But as hard as the days were, the nights were worse.
At nights, Ernesto came to her.
The guerrillas had no tents nor barracks like the Earthlings. Like the animals of the forest, they slept on moss and leaves. Every night, as Maria curled up, Ernesto lay beside her, stroked her hair, and cupped her breasts.
"No, Ernesto," she told him. "We must not. We're not married yet. It's a sin."
He would reach between her legs, trying to feel her, but she squirmed away.
"Maria, I love you," Ernesto said. "A fire burns inside me. For you, Maria. We might die tomorrow. Let us make love tonight."
Maria shook her head, for though the world burned, her virginity was still sacred to her. It was not a gift she was willing to give him. When his hands became too persistent, she pleasured him in other ways. He spilled his seed inside her hand, then slept with his arms around her, and Maria felt trapped, and she lay like an animal in a hutch.
For weeks, this continued.
Marching.
Climbing.
Chanting.
Foraging.
Pleasing him.
And then it was time to fight.
* * * * *
Maria walked through the forest, wrapped in a ragged cloak, her long black hair billowing in the wind.
She emerged onto a burnt field, and her heart thudded so powerfully it banged against her ribs.
Please, God, be with me, she silently prayed. Give me strength.
Her cross hung between her breasts, exposed, cold against her skin even in the open sunlight. Her cloak fluttered in the hot wind. She took another step. Another. Ash fluttered around her bare feet. With every step away from the jungle, she felt more naked, more afraid. At any moment, a bullet could fly, could hit her.
She pulled her cloak open wider, revealing more of her breasts, hoping to kindle lust for flesh rather than blood.
Ahead she saw them. Still a hundred yards away.
Earthlings.
They had no idea how to live in nature. They had cut down huge swaths of the forest. With the dead wood, they had built a crude camp in the field. It rose upon the land like a tumor. Palisades of sharpened logs formed walls. A guard tower rose above them. Between the wooden spikes, Maria could see olive-green tents spread across the camp. Several helicopters flew above, ferrying supplies to and from the base.
They desecrated our rainforest, Maria thought.
These wooden logs had once been trees, beautiful and mysterious and ancient. The Earthlings' great machines had crushed the land, shattering trees as holy as any cathedral. Maria walked around tree stumps and animal skeletons.
She took another step toward the fort.
She was alone.
She could barely even breathe, and the air smelled of smoke, oil, and gun powder.
"Oi!" A bearded man cried from the guard tower. "Oi, slit, stop where you are!"
Maria came to a stop, still a good distance from the fort. The guard was staring at her through binoculars. More Earthlings appeared above the wooden palisade. One man whistled.
"Nice tits, slit!" a man shouted. His friends laughed.
"Turn back!" said the bearded guard. "This ain't no slit hole."
He cocked his gun. The click sent chills down Maria's spine.
She wanted to turn. To run.
Instead, she stared at them defiantly.
"I'm hungry!" she said. "Will you feed me? I'll love you for food."
The Earthlings looked at one another, then burst out laughing.
"Ah, put down your gun!" an Earthling said to tower guard. "She's just a slit whore."
"She could be a fucking Kenny," said the bearded guard.
"She could be fucking us," said an Earthling on the wall, already undoing his belt. "Come here, slitty. Come into our little abode. We'll feed you. We've got plenty of baked beans. They're almost as big as your tits." He laughed at his own joke. Nobody else did.
Maria raised her chin. "I'm not coming in there! I'm scared. If you want me, meet me under my trees. Or are you scared of the jungle like little girls, you stinky putes?"
She ran back toward the rainforest.
A bullet whizzed.
Dust danced by her feet, and she realized the bullet had almost hit her.
She ran faster, heart thumping.
Back on the wall, some men laughed. Others cursed.
"Oi, don't shoot her!"
"She'd be more fun dead."
"You perv. Open the gates, damn it, she's getting away."
Maria kept running. Another bullet whistled overhead, and more men laughed.
"Run, slitty, run!"
They were toying with her. Maria snarled as she ran over the scorched Earth.
The giants were cruel and big and stupid. They had powerful machines, but mentally, emotionally—they were so weak.
She glanced over her shoulder and saw the gates open. An Earthling machine emerged from the fort—an armored jeep. Maria had seen such machines from a distance along the Freedom Trail. The jeeps were like their masters. Big, dumb, and loud. A squad of soldiers filled this jeep, and another jeep followed. Men hooted and hollered inside, sticking their tongues out at her, already pulling off their shirts.
Maria scoffed. Stupid putes. They had no brains under their helmets. They could only think with the little titis between their legs.
She reached the tree line and leaped into the rainforest.
She ran among the trees, leaping over roots, swinging from branches, as nimble as a greendeer. She heard the jeeps stop at the tree line, heard the giants open the doors, laughing, lumbering through the forest. They cracked branches. They smoked cigarettes one could smell from a distance. They snorted and spat and joked.
Stupid putes. Their only power was in machines. They had to leave those behind. Here in the jungle—this was her domain.
Only a few weeks ago, I was terrified of the jungle, Maria thought. But now I'm a ghost among the trees.
"Hey, sweet girl!" an Earthling cried.
She spun around, standing on a boulder, and stuck her tongue out at the Earthlings.
"Stinky putes!" she said.
She ran onward. They laughed and followed.
They stopped laughing when the first trap sprung.
Maria knew how to avoid it. She had seen the little stone—flipped over, its mossy side now facing the soil, its underbelly pointing at the canopy. To a Bahayan, it was as obvious as a flashing light. But the Earthlings could not read the forest.
The pit opened up, and the first Earthling in line fell.
Maria had spent that morning digging the pit, then filling it with poisoned bamboo spikes. A few weeks ago, she had dug graves for her parents. This morning she had dug graves for Earthlings.
She swung on a vine over the trap.
Behind her, the Earthling tumbled into the pit of spikes.
The sharpened bamboo tore through him. He screamed, impaled but still alive. The spikes ended with fish hooks. They could enter flesh—but not exit.
Maria stared at the surviving Earthlings.
She made eye contact with one. The man who had shot at her.
He sucked in air and shouted, "It's a slit trap, ru—"
And then the wrath of Bahay burst from the trees.
The Kalayaan filled the branches, covered with cloaks of leaves and vines, camouflaged so perfectly even Maria could barely see them.
But she could hear their bullets.
She could see the Earthlings fall. The blood spill.
She scurried up a tree, raced along a branch, nearly fell, and grabbed a vine for support. Ungoys fled, their many tails flailing in terror.
There, among the branches, Maria found her rifle.
With the other guerrillas, she opened fire.
The Earthlings were screaming. More fell dead. Suddenly they seemed less like fearsome giants, more like boys. A few were trying to escape. From a branch nearby, Ernesto shot one in the back. The Earthling fel
l, screaming, still alive, only for more bullets to hammer him.
Maria's heart pounded, and she kept firing. She could barely see through the leaves. She didn't know if she was hitting anyone. But she fired again and again. For her parents. For San Luna. For all Bahay. She fired her gun, and she laughed at how easily the enemy died, and tears flowed down her cheeks.
"Hold your ground, dammit!" an Earthling shouted.
"Burn those trees!" shouted another.
The surviving Earthlings took cover behind boulders and logs. They raised their guns and fired back.
Their guns were a lot more powerful. The Bahayans fought with old rifles with wooden stocks. The Earthlings wielded fearsome assault rifles.
A bullet whizzed by Maria.
Another slammed into the branch she stood on. The branch cracked. Maria swayed and nearly fell.
One guerrilla screamed and fell, a bullet in his chest. The assault rifle left a hole the size of a plum. More bullets pounded the man before he even hit the ground.
Maria grimaced. She had been too quick to gloat. She had underestimated them. The Earthlings were brutish, yes. They were big and dumb and noisy. But they were not cowards.
"Fire in the sky!" an Earthling howled and tossed something at the trees. It looked like a little metal pineapple.
The Earthlings ducked for cover.
"Watch ou—" Maria began.
An explosion shook the forest.
Maria's ears rang.
Shrapnel flew everywhere, embedding into trees. Three guerrillas fell, pierced with metal. The shock wave rattled the branches, and Maria nearly fell from her tree.
A grenade, she realized. She had heard of such monstrous weapons.
"Fire in the sky!" shouted another Earthling.
And another.
And a third.
And more grenades flew, and explosions filled the forest, and branches shattered, and trees caught fire.
And suddenly Maria was falling.
She fell through burning branches.
She tried to grab a vine, but she kept falling, and bullets whistled around her, and she hit the ground.
The forest blazed above. Bullets streaked above her. A man ran, screamed, fell at her side. Somewhere far above, helicopters rumbled. Burning leaves glided around Maria, a thousand little lights.
She stood up, coughing in the smoke, eyes stinging. Her leg was bleeding, and a bullet whistled by her head. A man ran, burning, a living torch. Another man ran through the brush, his arm ending in a stump. Somebody was shouting something in Tagalog. Maria's ears rang, and she could barely hear.
He emerged from the smoke before her.
The bearded Earthling. The guard who had fired on her.
He sneered, approaching her.
"You're gonna be mine, you little slit. I was going to kill you nice and easy. Now you're going to beg to die."
She spun and began running up a steep hillside.
He grabbed her leg. Painfully.
She yelped and pitched forward.
Her face hit the ground, and he was on top of her. He flipped her onto her back and pawed at her chest. She screamed, flailing and kicking. She might as well kick a boulder. The brute pinned her down. He grinned, drooling into his beard. He was so big. The biggest man Maria had ever seen, a veritable giant.
He gripped her throat.
"Oh, don't worry, slit. I won't kill you. Not yet. You're going to suffer first. You're going to suffer so much."
She couldn't breathe.
Darkness was closing in around her.
Above, the burning leaves still glided, and she imagined the thousand Santelmos in the night.
She saw the eyes of the dreamtoad.
She pulled her father's knife from her belt, and with a single fluid movement, she slit the Earthling's throat.
Blood sprayed her.
He gurgled, rose up, and clutched his neck, trying to hold in the blood.
Maria scurried away, and he fell down dead.
"Maria, come on!" Ernesto shouted in the distance. "Fall back! The helicopters are coming!"
The guerrillas were retreating into the forest. The mission was over. Maria could hear the helicopters roaring above. Through the burning trees, she saw more Earthlings approach, rolling forth machine guns.
Two Earthlings ran toward her.
She found her rifle on the forest floor.
She fired.
One Earthling fell dead, a bullet in his chest.
"Drop your gun!" she shouted at the second man.
"Maria, come on!" Ernesto cried from behind.
"Drop your gun!" Maria shouted at the Earthling.
He was a tall man. She looked like a child beside him. But he was young, his cheeks soft. He dropped his weapon.
"Move!" Maria jabbed him with her rifle. "Into the forest! Go! Faster!"
The Earthling raised his hands. This tall, powerful Earthling—trembling. Obeying her. She barely stood as tall as his belt buckle.
They moved deeper into the forest, fleeing the fire. An explosion bloomed behind them. Flames roared. They ran, and Maria kept poking the Earthling's back with her muzzle, herding him onward.
Ernesto approached her, cheeks singed. "Maria, what are you doing?"
"I took a prisoner," she said. "He's going to tell us who destroyed our village. And then—he'll lead us to the killers."
Chapter Seventeen
Etty's Secret
The door slammed shut, sealing Jon and Etty in the brig.
Dust flew, then settled over a small chamber, barely larger than a closet. There were two concrete bunks, a rusty sink and toilet, and a ventilation grate near the ceiling.
"Wonderful," Jon muttered. "My first week in the army, and I end up in jail."
"At least there's a lot of artwork to admire." Etty gestured at the walls, where a previous prisoner had scrawled dicks with wings and faces. "Hey, looks like self-portraits of Clay!"
"Sure, laugh about it," Jon said. "This is going on our permanent record, you know."
Etty gasped and placed her hands on her cheeks. "Oh no! Our permanent records! What ever shall we do?"
"Shut up. This is all your fault."
She snorted. "Oh please. You earned your own trip here."
Jon tried to pace, but he could only take three steps back and forth. There were little ventilation grates near the floor. Through them, he could dimly hear prisoners in other cells—talking, snoring, cursing. They would all be better company than Etty, but Jon was stuck here with her. Begrudgingly, he sat on one of the concrete slabs.
"You're the one who jumped on a chair and started ranting," Jon said. "Now we're stuck in the brig for twenty-four hours." He rubbed his arm, wincing. "Not to mention covered with marks from Lizzy's whip."
He expected Etty to get mad. Maybe to rant some more. But instead, the girl sat beside him. Her shoulders slumped. Strands of black hair fell across her face.
"I wish President Ben-Ari were still here," she said softly.
Jon rolled his eyes. "More politics."
She punched him. "Shut up! Things were better back then. I met her once, you know."
Jon raised an eyebrow. "You met President Ben-Ari, the Golden Lioness, the legendary heroine?"
Everyone knew the tales. A century ago, aliens had attacked Earth, slaughtered billions, and nearly destroyed the planet. It was Einav Ben-Ari, a young officer, who raised the broken, bleeding scraps of humanity, who defeated the aliens, and then built a human empire among the stars. Around the world, there were statues and murals of the Golden Lioness. Jon even had a poster of her in his bedroom back home. Many kids did. She was normally depicted young, golden hair billowing in the wind, charging into enemy lines. It was an iconic poster, hanging in millions of bedrooms.
For decades, the Golden Lioness had led humanity. But then, fifteen years ago, Ben-Ari disappeared.
At age eighty, the legendary leader of humanity decided not to run for re-election.
&
nbsp; The day after announcing her decision, she vanished.
Some say she died. Others claimed she was exploring another galaxy.
Earth had a new president now. And some claimed the golden age was over.
"I was only an infant," Etty said. "Not even a year old. My parents took me to see her. Ben-Ari was Israeli, you know. Like me. On her last day on Earth, she gave a speech on the hills of Jerusalem. I was there. But I don't remember anything. I just know the stories. That the Golden Lioness stood on the holy mountain, spoke to her people one last time, blessed them… and then rose into the sky. Like an angel." Etty wiped her eyes. "She's still alive. I believe. But somewhere else. And now we're lost. If Ben-Ari were here, she would never fight a war against Bahay. Before she disappeared, she saw the seeds of the war, and she spoke out against it. She believed that humans should never fight other humans. I miss her so much."
Jon frowned. "Wait a minute. Your story doesn't add up. Ben-Ari disappeared in the year 2208. Fifteen years ago. You would have been a little kid. Not an infant."
Etty winced. "Um, yeah… about that. I'm sixteen. Actually, I just turned sixteen yesterday." She gave a shaky smile. "Happy Birthday to me!"
Jon blinked at her. "What?" He stood up. "You're sixteen? Dude! You have to be eighteen to join the army!"
Etty cringed. "I know, I know! I kinda… lied about my age." She stood up too and grabbed him. "Please don't tell anyone! Please. If they found out, they'd kick me out. Maybe even leave me in the brig forever. Promise you won't tell!"
He blinked at her, head spinning. His perspective of Etty completely changed. He was only two years older than her. But at eighteen, a soldier, he felt like an adult. Etty suddenly seemed like a child.
I was too hard on her, he thought. She's sixteen and scared and confused. My God. I can't even imagine.
"I won't tell," he said.
She hugged him. "Thank you."
He brushed back a strand of her hair. "Aren't your parents worried, Etty? Did they let you do this?"
A tear flowed. "My parents are dead. My whole family is dead."
Jon froze. He was silent for long seconds.
"God, Etty," he finally said. "I'm sorry. I don't know what to say."
The Earthling (Soldiers of Earthrise Book 1) Page 13
