Julie thanked the emergency systems yet again. With the palace on lockdown, no one would dump today. They were safe from falling, but not from the polluted mess in which they found themselves.
The soot seemed to sink into her skin, plastering over the cracks and crevices, molding into her open injuries. It stung, but she ignored it. The only way out was to keep going.
Finally, up ahead, she heard a clanging sound.
“I found it!” Malcolm called. That was all it took.
A rumble from above warned Julie a split-second before the pile beneath her shifted, tossing her onto her back. She looked up to see the mound of ash from whence they’d come crashing down like a wave over them. Malcolm struggled back to her and wrapped his body around hers just before the weight of the soot hit them full force. She covered her face with her arms, screwed her eyelids shut and held her breath.
Malcolm yanked on her body, struggling upward against the tide of ash. Gathering her strength, Julie braced herself for escape. Trying to swim through a solid, her limbs cried out in exhaustion, but she egged them on. One more stroke, one more push, the top has got to be here somewhere.
Her lungs were bursting from lack of air, and she could only assume Anna would be dead if they ever made it to the air supply. The girl had been asleep and wouldn’t have known to hold her breath. In fact, her shape against Malcolm’s back created a drag, and Julie soon outstripped him, pulling all three forward.
She didn’t think she could struggle even one more minute when the solid ocean around them gave way. Her hand met with no resistance, and she waved it around to be sure. A few more digs, now, and they would surface. She used the solidified mass of the avalanched soot to push against and wrenched her body free of the ash. Opening her mouth wide, she took in breath after breath while yanking and pulling her torso until Malcolm and Anna popped free.
“Is everybody okay?” she asked in a shaky voice once she’d caught her breath. Malcolm was kneeling over Anna’s limp frame, trying to dust the debris off her face. He didn’t appear to hear Julie.
“Come on, kid,” he said to Anna. “Breathe, damn it.”
Julie scrambled over and helped to lay out the young girl. They used the tablecloth as a sheet, protection against the blackened masses below. Julie checked the girl’s wrist and felt a slight pulse, though Anna took no breath.
“She’s alive,” she said.
“Not for much longer if we can’t get her to breathe,” Malcolm muttered, putting as much force as he dared on Anna’s chest and pumping the heart mechanically.
“That won’t help if her airway is clogged,” Anna said as an idea hit. “Give her back to me.”
Without questioning, though there was doubt in his eyes, Malcolm heaved the girl up and positioned her so that her spine and neck faced Julie. She wrapped her arms around Anna’s stomach, just under the rib cage, and yanked upward and toward herself as hard as she could.
Nothing. She tried again.
A dribble of damp dirt leaked from Anna’s mouth.
Using the last of her strength, Julie heaved Anna to a standing position and jerked her fists upward toward the girl’s sternum. The pressure was just enough to force small handful soot, solidified by saliva, from Anna’s mouth, and Anna began to sputter and heave. The girl vomited and retched, the tracks of grime on her face intensifying in her misery.
Julie grabbed the filthy tablecloth and used it to wipe off Anna’s nose, mouth and eyes. It mostly smeared the soot around, but at least, the girl’s passageways were opened now.
“You’re trying to kill me,” Anna croaked, distrust flickering in her tear-filled eyes.
“We’re trying to survive, actually,” Julie said in a business-like tone. She saw the hurt on Anna’s face and softened. Anna hadn’t asked for this. “I’m sorry,” she said. “This is incredibly hard for all of us, but mostly for you. I’m sorry we have to put you through it.” She straightened onto her hands and knees and pointed toward the wall which was just feet from them. “The good news is we are almost out of this hellhole and onto the next. We just have to make it through that piping, and you’ll see blue skies and green grass again.”
“Again?”
Julie grimaced. Right. As a Special One, Anna had never seen grass, and the only sky she’d managed to glimpse had been through thick, dusty windows.
“Even better,” Julie replied, trying to put a cheerful tone in her voice. “You’ll see them for the first time.”
Malcolm squeezed her hand, and she felt comforted. They were doing the right thing.
“Another upside is that you should be coming into some enhanced abilities soon. You may even have them now.”
“How will I know?” Anna asked.
Julie smiled at that. How did any of them know? “You just will. When it’s time, you’ll know.”
Chapter Eleven
Malcolm laughed aloud when he literally saw the light at the end of the tunnel. Given all they’d just been through, the phrase no longer sounded old and cliché. It sounded like freedom.
Reaching the mouth of the long, thin piping they’d been wriggling through, a blast of fresh air from the outside hit him in the face. He pulled himself into it then allowed himself to collapse on the grassy ground. He wiggled his fingers, feeling the blades between them.
Anna followed him then Julie, and all three just sat for a few moments, not speaking, just reveling in the openness.
Malcolm hunched forward and jerked off his shoes, peeling off the crud-laden socks beneath. The cool ground felt like heaven beneath him. Inspired, he ripped his shirt over his head, standing and walking a few paces away from the women to shake it out. The dirt clung to the sweat-encrusted garment, but a lot of dust and soot came out, and the shirt felt lighter when he shrugged it back on. He turned to find both his travelling partners staring at him.
“What?” he asked with a grin. “Never seen a man without a shirt before?”
Anna shook her head slowly, her eyes wide. “You look…different in the light of day.”
Julie laughed. “Hey, kiddo, eyes off. That one’s mine. Nice to look at though, isn’t he?”
The girl blushed and ducked her head, running her hands through her hair to rid it of some of the grimy soot.
Changing topics to ease any tension, Malcolm said, “Maybe, we’ll come across a stream before we find the ships.” He looked at Julie. Her taut abdomen was dirty and scratched, her breasts heaving under her tightly fitted black top. “Where are they supposed to be, anyway?”
Julie smiled and pointed toward the horizon. Following her direction, Malcolm squinted his eyes. Sure enough, down across a valley, probably meant as a drainage well for the watershed area, was a small, dilapidated port. The sun’s rays shone off the glass, preventing Malcolm from seeing the ships themselves or what shape they were in. The travelers would have to set off and hope at least one of the crafts could still fly.
“Do you think the port has any provisions?” he asked. He was starving.
“I don’t know,” Julie replied. “We never got that detailed. When you’re planning a revolution from the comfort of your bedrooms, stopping to eat doesn’t really cross your mind.”
“Let’s hope they do. I’ve nothing to eat, and you two must be famished.”
Anna nodded silently, and Julie inclined her head. “Shall we go, then?”
The three ragged companions pushed themselves up off the ground and trudged toward the distant port. Though the path was long, just being able to stand and walk freely was luxurious, and Malcolm felt almost as if he were on vacation.
He slowed his pace and laced his fingers through Julie’s. They walked hand in hand for a short time, but sooner than he would have liked, she disentangled herself and increased their distance from each other. He told himself she was doing that for Anna’s sake, but still, doubts niggled. Why was she so hot and cold? Were they lovers, friends, a team or merely strangers foisted into this role where they had to work together and
make the best of it? If she loved him, why couldn’t she hold his hand?
To keep himself sane, he forced his mind off the beauty at his right and went over the flight simulations George had put him through time and time again. Malcolm had to prepare mentally for flying the ship. If something went wrong, he’d need to react with quickness and surety.
They hadn’t a second to spare. No doubt the emperor would have scoured the entire palace for them by now, and having not found them, he’d extend the search to the countryside. There was no telling when or where guards would accost them, so they wouldn’t be able to remain at the port long before taking off.
* * * *
Julie stirred a sorry-looking stew, and the steam that wafted up from the dented tin pot on the soiled hotplate smelled divine. Her stomach rumbled, and she hazarded a taste, pulling a face when all she tasted was the dirty hose water she’d had to use as a base.
“Anna, can you rummage in this plastic tub for some salt?” She pointed at the boxes beneath the counter, and the girl, who’d been crouched down by the old ship with which Malcolm tinkered, sprang to her feet. Julie soothed her jealous ego. Hadn’t she looked at George with the same wide-eyed wonderment? It didn’t mean anything, and even if it did, she trusted Malcolm. He’d said he loved her after all. Of course, that was when they’d been looking death in the face and before the spritely young thing was even conscious. Now, she bounded around pertly, naïve innocence radiating from her and enhancing her girlish beauty.
Julie scolded herself. She loved Anna, too, and she knew the girl would never try to hurt her. Julie felt so cynical lately, so distrusting, as if she were a lioness and everyone around her represented a threat to her pride.
What right did she have to be jealous anyway? She’d told Malcolm time and time again that they weren’t to get involved emotionally. That was why she’d taken her hand away as they’d walked here. Her feelings were getting out of control. She kept envisioning this journey over, not so they could fight the evil powers of the New Government and gain rights for millions of impoverished and ill people below, but so that she could curl into Malcolm’s strong frame and sleep forever, comfortable and loved.
It was dangerous, and it was up to her to pull herself back.
She added a can of pale, water-logged carrots to the broth, and Anna handed Julie some sealed salt-and-pepper packets which she dumped into the mix liberally.
The old port hadn’t been used or looked at in years, possibly decades. The only sign of human life was the empty slot where a larger ship that George must have taken down to The Levels had once sat. The spot was lighter, with less sun damage and less dust than the rest of the place.
To their relief, it looked as though no one had been here looking for the lost girls or George after that. Everyone really must think they were dead.
A hum started from behind her, and Julie turned to see Malcolm scrambling to his feet, wrench in hand and oil smeared across his cheek.
“Got her running,” he said with a smile, wiping his hands on his jeans and placing the wrench beside him on a small, makeshift table. “Now, we just have to find some gas.”
Julie shook her head. “I can’t believe people were still using gasoline to power their vehicles when they first came here. What a waste.”
Malcolm agreed. Walking over to her, he placed his broad hands on her shoulders. She sighed into the pressure for a moment before shrugging him off and turning.
“This stew, if you can call it that, is ready,” she said, ducking under him and rummaging in the old cabinets for some bowls and spoons. They were spotted, cracked and time-worn, but at least, they were clean. She poured out the slightly yellowish liquid and handed Malcolm and Anna their shares. “Bon appetite,” she joked half-heartedly.
“When this is all over,” Malcolm vowed between large mouthfuls, “I’m going to take you ladies out to the best dining we can find. I’ll go to the ends of the earth if I have to. Because for a while,” he paused to wipe his mouth on the cuff of his sleeve, “well, this is probably the best meal we’re going to have for a while.”
Anna’s face soured, but she recovered quickly. “I mean,” she said to cover up, “no offense, Julie, you didn’t have anything to work with, but this is pretty awful.”
Julie nodded. “And worse, it doesn’t have many nutrients. All prepackaged, non-perishable food fossils.”
Malcolm walked his bowl over to the counter and set it down with a clatter. “Well, I thought it was delicious,” he said and flashed her another bright smile. “I was hungry enough to eat, well, stew from twenty-year-old cans, and that really hit the spot.”
Julie laughed and placed her bowl next to his, bopping him lightly on the shoulder. He grabbed her wrist and turned her toward him, searing her with his dark gaze. “I meant what I said back there,” he said softly. “Don’t ever doubt it.”
Her mouth went dry, and she managed a small nod before ducking her head away again. “Let’s find that gas, shall we?” She had to be strong.
After a ten-minute search, Anna gave a small yelp.
“I think I found it,” she called, her entire body inside one of the cabinets. She pushed out a large red container with a nozzle, and Malcolm hurried over to her.
“Yup, that’s it,” he said, taking the canister. He fueled the ship and started the engine, which sprung to life with a satisfying roar.
Chapter Twelve
The ship bounced and screeched along the small, abandoned road where Malcolm had attempted his landing, waking Julie and Anna who were in the back. He had to hand it to George. That flight game had given Malcolm all the skills needed to commandeer the craft. The gears, the altitude and pressure shifts, everything had been exactly the same. Except for the landing, they’d made the journey without incident—and quickly, too.
“Are we there?” Anna asked, her voice groggy. He turned to see her rubbing her eyes. Julie patted her back in a motherly fashion, and his heart wrenched in his chest. The overwhelming care he felt for these two women threatened to overcome him, and he berated himself for putting them in such danger. Whether or not it could have been avoided, Malcolm felt responsible. He’d egged them on, he’d agreed to this crazy scheme, and if they all died, it would be his fault.
He’d better not let that happen.
“Yeah, we’re here,” he said, “and good thing, too, since I ruined the ship.”
“But good job flying,” Julie said, her voice full of admiration. “I didn’t know you knew how.”
He shrugged. “George taught me.”
He looked out at the landscape, taking in the graying, ash-filled world. “Jesus,” he said, “we may as well still be in the incinerator.”
He clicked open the craft’s doors, allowing the three to get out to test their legs. The ground beneath his feet was hard—barren and cracked and parched. The light brown-gray soil puffed up underneath his stomping motions but didn’t give at all. A stark skyline of a city loomed to their left, under the reddened sun as it threatened to dip under the horizon.
“We’d better head that way,” Malcolm said. He knew from his geography lessons with George that while the earth was enormous, the closest city to Terrecina was New York. He also knew that George loved New York with a fiery passion unmatched by anything Malcolm had ever seen. George would be in the city somewhere, but with all the skyscrapers, rotted-out building, alleys and places to hide, the question was where.
The ragged team headed back to the road then trudged over what must have once been a bridge over a river, though there was no water running there now. The pavement was wide, four or five lanes’ worth, but no cars drove it. They saw not a soul for the first few miles.
“It’s so big,” Anna whispered. “So lonely and…scary.”
He nodded.
“We’ve been ignoring these people for a long time,” he said, after they’d passed the remnants of a body on the side of the road. “Let’s hope they’re glad to see us, eh?” He laughed, the mirt
hless sound carrying over the pavement and echoing through the tunnel they’d finally reached.
He was about to utter a few words of warning before they entered the dark confines of the tunnel when a thin but strong arm reached from behind an old highway streetlight pole and wrestled him off the road.
He shouted in surprise, and Julie and Anna ran to his side.
Julie raised her hand to strike the attacker when a woman’s voice rang out in an urgent whisper. “Stop!” she said, still holding Malcolm. “I’m here to help you!”
“Yeah, right,” Julie shouted and dropped her elbow on the woman who howled in pain and released Malcolm.
He turned and grabbed her around the neck, not choking her but keeping her stable. His other arm pinned hers to her torso in a hug-like grasp.
The woman sucked in a breath, battling the pain, then chuckled softly, an empty sound.
“You don’t recognize me, Two?” she said, looking at Julie.
His lover peered at the thin, dirty blonde then took a step back, gasping.
“Five?”
“As I live and breathe,” the woman said, struggling against Malcolm’s hold. “Though not for long with this brute snuffling the air out of me.” She craned her neck to look up at Malcolm. “Mind backing off, buddy?”
He looked at Julie, and she inclined her head slightly, so he loosened his grip, and the woman wrestled free. She openly appraised the three then snorted.
“This is George’s idea of a revolution?” she asked, mostly to herself. “Well, we’re right fucked then, aren’t we?”
She paced around the group, looking each member up and down. After some moments, she came back around to stand before them, her long, lean frame towering over even Malcolm by a few inches. Her blonde hair was cropped short, resting around her face in springy waves. Her pale skin shone under the streetlight, which had just flickered and buzzed to life as the sun gave up its battle against the horizon.
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