Wasteland: Sirain Rises

by Ann Bakshis

  “You still haven’t told me why you took the kids.”

  “For Vladim, the destruction of Tartarus, and all those who oppose him.”

  The stream lights him up like a candle.

  CHAPTER 14

  I don’t let go until I’m knocked to the floor. Braxton has me pinned, while the others work on putting Iscariot out. His screams finally stop, along with his breathing.

  “How could you do that?” Rafer screams at me.

  “He deserved it,” I shout back. “Grainne is probably dead because of him. Mair and Thane are helping Vladim because of him. Jagger and Holunder are dead because of him.”

  “Enough,” he yells at me. “Ares will decide your punishment.”

  I want to argue, but Braxton shushes me before I get a chance.

  Medics are called down to take care of the body while Braxton keeps me hidden in the corner of the room, away from everyone. I have to crane my neck to look around his shoulders as they pick Iscariot’s remains off the floor. His clothing has been burnt almost completely off. One of the medics picks him up under his shoulders and I notice something shiny on the back of it.

  “Wait,” I shout. “What’s that?” I point to the red gem that is tarnished with ash.

  The medics place the body back on the ground, rolling it on its side. Braxton gives me room, so I can go over and peel back some remnants of Iscariot’s shirt to reveal an intricately scrolled half-moon with a sword thrust through it, and a red jewel in the center. Just like the one in the journal.

  “Remove that and have it examined,” Rafer orders.

  The medics slip the body into a black bag, load it onto a cart, and leave. Rafer tells Braxton to go back to his post. He hesitates, not letting go of my hand — I hadn’t noticed he’d grabbed. I squeeze to let him know it’s all right. As soon as Braxton is gone, Rafer strikes me hard across the face.

  I don’t flinch, nor do I retaliate. I just stand there, hands clasped behind my back.

  If he does it again, though, I’m not responsible for my actions.

  “All you do is think of yourself,” he begins. “You’ve put this city at great risk. If Ares doesn’t make the appropriate decision in regards to your punishment, I will.”

  He grabs my arm, escorts me down the hall, and into the lift. He doesn’t let go until we’re in the meeting room in the main building. There, I’m locked away again, awaiting my fate.

  What the hell is wrong with me? I can’t keep losing control like that. How many people have I killed because of my anger? I’ve lost count. Does that make me a monster like Iscariot?

  I sit down at the table, and slam my hand down on the surface. I know what’s going to happen. Ares didn’t want me here to begin with. She didn’t want any of us here.

  Hours pass, and still no one comes to see me. Not even Braxton. I stay seated, my head resting on the table. My stomach growls, but no one even comes to ask if I’m hungry. Another hour passes before the door finally opens. Ares and Rafer step inside, closing the door behind them. Ares takes the seat at the head of the table while Rafer stays by the door.

  “How did you know about the chaser?’ Ares asks, hands folded together as she leans on the table.

  “What are you talking about?” I respond.

  “The red stone in Iscariot’s shoulder is a chaser, a tracking device. How did you know he had it?”

  “I didn’t. I only saw it when the medics picked up his body.”

  “But you’d seen it before, hadn’t you?”

  I hesitate in responding, but I know she’ll figure it out eventually. “The journal had one also. When they were bombing the camp, I saw it blinking. I ripped it from its page and tossed it away from me. They bombed where I threw it and left.”

  “Where did you get the journal?” Rafer asks.

  “At the village Vladim bombed. A man dropped it when he fell.”

  “That must have been how they located the village,” Rafer says. “Not because of Grainne or Trea, but because of the chaser.”

  Ares nods in agreement.

  “Then why wasn’t Iscariot’s working?” I ask. “His was never blinking.”

  “The buildings in Tartarus are made of a dense iron alloy that prevents any radio signals from entering or going out unless it is directed to the security areas. Iscariot never had access to these sites, so the chaser would never have been activated. He also never left the city since the day he was picked up.”

  Silence settles in. I become increasingly uncomfortable in the presence of both Ares and Rafer, wondering what fate they have decided for me.

  I’m the first to speak after several minutes. “So, what’s my punishment?” I ask, wanting to get this over with.

  “The Verdant faction is putting together a traveling kit for you as we speak. Once it’s complete, I will open up the tunnel below and you will be escorted out of the city. You will be on your own and not permitted to return.”

  “What about the others?”

  “They will stay here. Unlike you, they haven’t broken any rules or caused any problems.”

  “What about Braxton?”

  “He has his own choices to make, but I’m sure he’ll make the right one.”

  He’s going to go with me and I’m going to get him killed. I’ll never be able to live with myself if he died. I’ve grown to care for him too much, almost to the point of loving him. He’s been with me so long that life without him seems unbearable, but I need to keep him safe.

  “Stop Braxton from going,” I say. “He can’t leave the safety of Tartarus.”

  “We will not force him to stay if he chooses to leave,” Ares replies.

  “Let me speak with Lehen. Please,” I beg.

  “Very well.” Ares stands as Rafer opens the door. “You will stay here until it’s time to go. Rafer will fetch Lehen for you.”

  I hear the lock click into place followed by hushed voices from Ares and Rafer. It’s only a matter of minutes before the door reopens and Lehen walks in. Rafer shuts and locks the door as Lehen takes a seat.

  “What do you need me to do?” he asks without being prompted.

  “I need you to have Vier keep Braxton here. He can’t know that I’ve left when the time comes, and I don’t want him following me.”

  He nods. “Anything else?”

  “I want you to come with me.”

  He hesitates. Possibly weighing his options. If he stays, safety, food, and a dry place to live await him. If he goes with me, starvation, wandering into the unknown, and possible death are the only things I can offer.

  “I’ll go with you.” He stands, knocks on the door, and leaves.

  I feel a little better knowing I’m not going alone, especially since another Antaean is going with me. I won’t have to worry too much about keeping Lehen alive as he’s well suited to protect himself.

  A food tray is finally brought to me a while later. I eat everything, practically licking the tray clean. Another hour passes before the door opens again, this time by security. The three officers escort me to the heavy metal door. Lehen is waiting for me, a backpack in one hand, while he wears another.

  “This is for you,” he says, handing it to me. “We’ve got five days’ worth of food packets, a water canteen, tarp for bedding, and a Levin gun.”

  “Where’s Ares?”

  “She’s waiting for us at the end of the tunnel.”

  One of the security guards opens the door, we pass, and the door closes behind us. The guards don’t follow. We walk in silence. Both of us not knowing what to say.

  A thought pops into my mind. “What did you do with the tablet I gave you?”

  “Vier has it.”

  I just hope he keeps it hidden.

  The door at the end of the tunnel is standing ajar. The only light visible is from those in the tunnel. It’s pitch black outside. Once we exit, we climb the stairs and meet Ares with Bevan, who is wearing a collar brace and arm splint, Caitrin is with him. Each has a pack like
Lehen’s and mine.

  “What are they doing here?” Lehen asks, seemingly outraged by their presence.

  “Traitors are dealt with in one of two ways,” Ares begins. “They can either be put to death, or expelled from Tartarus. The latter is the option most chosen.”

  She smiles and begins to retreat down the steps. “One more thing,” she says as she reaches into her pants pocket. “Here, Trea, a present for you.”

  She tosses the journal to me, enters the tunnel, and locks the door. I tuck the book into my pack, secure it to my back, and begin to head east. Lehen follows close to me, and Bevan and Caitrin have to run to catch up.

  My first thought is to head to the village, only because I know where it is, but that’s not the direction I ultimately want to go. I’m not happy with the two tag-alongs since they’ll make getting into Sirain harder, and put Lehen and me at greater risk. We begin to head north thirty minutes after leaving Tartarus. The terrain is rocky, with thick trees, and a few steep hills. We stop after the second hour. Lehen and I lay out our tarps and turn in for the night. Caitrin and Bevan follow our steps, but they sleep several feet away.

  The crisp morning air rouses me from sleep. The sun is just breaking over the horizon. I take out one of the food packs labeled “Breakfast”, tear open a corner of the aluminum pouch, and squeeze a bit of the mash into my mouth. I next take out the journal, and flip through several of the pages until I come across the one outlining an entrance into Sirain at the north ridge of Acheron’s territory.

  We’ll have to travel north for approximately another day before heading west for two days, at which point we’ll come across a large body of water. From the rough drawing, it seems the entrance to Sirain is over a lake.

  Lehen wakes, and eats a little breakfast before packing up. Bevan and Caitrin have to eat while we walk as I’m not taking a break for them. Halfway through the day, we come across a large opening in the trees. The land ahead is decimated, a mass of rusted, torn metal. Craters the size of the city of Acheron mark the area, making navigation hard. This slows us down considerably as there isn’t any smooth path to follow. The air begins to become heavy with humidity, and there’s a faint scent of ozone. I turn my head to see thick storm clouds move in rapidly from the south. Lightning streaks across the sky, striking the ground a half-mile away.

  “We need to find someplace to stay until this passes,” Lehen shouts as the rain pours down on us. “Standing by anything metal during a thunderstorm is suicide.”

  Bevan locates a concrete alcove nestled ten feet below the hill we currently stand upon. We half slide, half run down just as another bolt strikes nearby. The opening is tight: just enough room for the four of us if we stand very close together. Caitrin gathers our canteens and fills them up with the rain. We’re parched from the day’s walk, and we drink them dry, so she has to fill them up again.

  The winds pick up as the storm grows stronger. Lightning lights up the sky for over an hour. The thunder begins to fade, but the rain is still coming down in sheets.

  “Anybody have something to write with?” I ask, digging through my pack for the journal.

  “Will this work?” Caitrin asks, handing me a small charcoal stick.

  I open the journal to the map I’ve been using, and add the ruins, since they were missed.

  “Where did you get that?” Bevan asks.

  “From the village Grainne had been visiting. It contains a complete outline of Sirain and everything in it.”

  “Is that where we’re heading?” Caitrin says, panicking. “I don’t want to go there, they’ll kill us.”

  “Well, we never asked you two to come along, so if you don’t want to follow you can stay here,” I say angrily.

  Thunder begins to grow again. We hunker down for a longer stay, as the storm shows no sign of letting up. Lehen takes the journal from me and flips through its pages, analyzing every drawing. He hands the book back to me as the thunder escalates, but then I realize it’s not the same thunder.

  I know that sound.

  I begin to panic.

  How could they possibly know we’re here? Vladim couldn’t know. But that’s the sound of bombing. It’s them.

  “We need to leave,” I state, opening my pack back up, shoving the canteen and journal inside.

  That’s when I see it. A flashing red light at the bottom of my pack.

  Oh hell.

  “What’s that?” Bevan asks, pointing to the object now blinking in my palm.

  “Someone planted a chaser. Sirain knows where we are.”

  A Quantum mortar ignites a mile south of us. I need to act fast or we’re all dead. I shove my pack into Lehen’s hands and bolt out of the alcove. Running past high metal sculptures, I grip the stone tightly in my hand.

  Why don’t I throw it away like I did the other one? What am I doing? What am I looking for?

  Another mortar ignites just south of me. The lightning in the air must be hindering their guidance, so their aim isn’t precise. My eyes focus on the ground beneath my feet. I keep running, heading far away from the others. The steel acts like tree roots and trips me. I stumble, falling head first down a hill. A mortar ignites close by, debris and earth fall on me. I stand up and try to climb out. My feet slip, but I manage to find a footing and breach the top. I can hear the motion above me. I wish I knew what the vehicle looks like, but it only makes an appearance when it’s cloudy. A good way to camouflage itself.

  “Think, Trea, think!” I shout.

  A few feet to my left is a pile of metal piping. I dig through it, looking for a small piece, hopefully with caps at the ends. I find a piece no bigger than the size of a syringe, drop the stone into it, and look around for something to top it.

  The whirring of engines above me is deafening. I find a small thin cylinder to shove into the pipe, but I’m too late. I hear the whistle of a large object falling. I curl into a ball as the mortar hits inches from me. The heat from the blast ignites the air around me. I feel like I’m breathing fire. My flesh reacts by sending a blue energy pouring out of the markings on my arms and legs. I’m swallowed up into a ball of energy, protecting me from the destruction. After a few moments the heat subsides and I’m able to get up onto my hands and knees. The dust begins to settle. I look to my left and see Lehen, Bevan, and Caitrin staring at me.

  CHAPTER 15

  The sounds from above diminish, then disappear. I sit on my butt once the Quantum Stream has returned to my body. I’m tired. All I want to do is sleep. Lehen is the only one who approaches me.

  “You okay?” he asks, sitting next to me.

  “I’ve been better.”

  We chuckle slightly.

  “You’ve looked better, too,” he adds, nudging my shoulder.

  I’m covered in mud. My clothes are soaked, down to my skin. Lehen stands, then helps me to my feet. Caitrin has my pack, and I ask her to hold on to it until I can get cleaned up. I give Bevan the pipe, which he holds gingerly in his fingers.

  “It’s not going to bite you,” I say to him.

  “Why did you keep it?” he asks, shoving it into my pack.

  “You never know when we might need it.”

  “So, if it still works, why did the mortars stop?” Lehen asks, taking his pack from Bevan.

  “This metal must be like that in Tartarus. It prevents any type of signal from reaching what’s inside. The cylinder is plugging up the pipe, keeping the chaser’s signal hidden.”

  Lehen removes the journal from my pack, and leafs through the pages until he finds what he’s looking for. “There’s a small lake a few miles west of here. We should go there so you can get cleaned up and we can eat.”

  I let Lehen lead the way. It takes us over thirty minutes to reach the tiny body of water. Bevan hangs his tarp over a long tree branch, separating me from them so I can clean up. I strip down, wash my clothes in the clear water, hang them over a branch to dry, then wade into the lake. Slowly at first since the water is surprisingly cold, but
continue until it’s over my head. The sun emerges from the clouds, but is lower than I would like it to be, which means we’ve lost a lot of time. I stay in the water until all the mud is off. I wish I had a towel, but I don’t so I drip dry behind the tarp. Lehen hands me a lunch pouch over the branch along with my canteen. I sit on a rock and eat.

  “Why do you think the chaser was in your pack, Trea?” Caitrin asks, munching on some food.

  “Ares probably put it in there hoping we would get killed. She knew what it was, even asked me about it. She’s probably laughing her ass off thinking about it.”

  That puts a halt on any further conversation. Bevan and Caitrin have never experienced the feeling of someone wanting you dead. Lehen and I have had that our whole lives.

  My clothes are still damp, but I put them on anyway and we head north again. As the sun sets, we make camp under an old rock formation. I can’t sleep, not because of the hard ground, but because of what could’ve happened back at the craters.

  “Trea,” Lehen says lying on his tarp, a few feet next to mine, “what do you plan on doing once you get into Sirain?”

  “I don’t know,” I admit. “I’ve been so focused on getting to Sirain that I haven’t really thought about what I would do when I got there.”

  “Well, you’ve only got a couple of days to think about it.”

  He’s right. I need to have a plan in place before then. My ultimate goal is to stop Vladim by killing him, but I don’t know if he’s still in Tyre. It would take months to cross all of Sirain by foot to get there. And what happens to the country after Vladim is gone? What then?

  I close my eyes and try to sleep. It ebbs and flows throughout the night. Sometimes I think I hear Quin rustling behind me, but am disappointed when I remember it’s Lehen. I miss Braxton, but he’s safer in Tartarus. I miss Devlan, a man I looked up to. I miss Magda, and hope she’s still in Siedler Village, alive. I miss Jagger and know it’s my fault he’s dead. So many left behind.

  My arm is wet with tears when I finally wake. Lehen, Caitrin, and Bevan are all eating breakfast. I take my leftover packet from yesterday and eat only half of it. I notice everyone else has been doing the same, saving most of the food and eating only a little bit at a time to make it last longer. After ten minutes, we pack up and head north. Around midday we begin our journey west, then spend the night in an open field. The stars shine brightly overhead. I spend most of the following day trying to determine what to do when we get into Sirain, which will happen tomorrow, hopefully.