by James Bow
Of course! The other cities! They must have seen the semaphore fall. They’d come to the rescue.
In this forest, the only directions I was sure of were down and up, but as another ornithopter passed overhead, I used the sound in its wake to point me toward my ruined home.
I stumbled on the uneven ground, my body protesting every move, but adrenaline pushed me forward. I touched a tender spot on my forehead. A wad of mud and mashed plants came away in my hand. I touched the tender spot again, and my fingers came away with enough blood to tell me I’d cut my head open.
My brain was addled from shock, as well as from the hit I’d taken in my fall. It was hard enough concentrating on staying upright. If I thought about anything else, like Rachel —
No! Don’t think about her! Whatever you do, don’t think about her!
Then, up ahead I heard … yes! Hammers! The buzz of chainsaws! I wanted to shout, tell them I was here, but I was out of breath. I stumbled closer, like a dying man toward an oasis. I topped a ridge and stopped. I heard … singing.
Someone was singing. A single female voice, carrying crisp and brittle through the fog. How could someone be singing?
Then I recognized the song, and understood. It was a town crier, from one of the other cities. She was there to sing the Lament.
I’d heard the Lament at Mom’s funeral. They may have sung it for Dad’s. Now they sang it for Iapyx, while hammers banged and chainsaws roared. I shuddered with sudden cold.
Suddenly a light flooded the foggy air around me. “Who goes there!”
A grey shape solidified out of the fog. I flinched, thinking it was one of Nathaniel’s men. But when he came up to me, I could see the hammer and cog insignia on his sleeve. He worked for Daedalon.
He looked at me like he was seeing a ghost. “Where did you come from?”
“Out—” My voice cracked. “Out there.”
He stared at me, open-mouthed. Then he holstered his gun. “You’re a survivor?”
I nodded. A mistake up there with shaking.
He caught my arm as I stumbled, but I pulled away and looked toward the fog-shrouded ruins. “Are there others? Did they get out?”
He sucked his teeth. “A few dozen from the wreckage, so far. And about two hundred people managed to escape beforehand by ornithopter.”
The crier sang.
“What is this that I can’t see
With ice-cold hands taking hold of me?
Well I am Death, none can excel,
I open the door to heaven and hell.”
Two hundred survivors. Out of five thousand. Of the remainder … I thought of schoolchildren, battery boys and girls, pilots and surgeons. Ethan, whom I’d told to lie low so he could stay safe. Marni. Gabriel. My friends … Rachel.
My knees gave out and he hauled me up.
“Are you okay?” the guard asked.
I struggled to focus on him, a thousand questions in my mind. For some reason, the first one to come out was, “How’d you get here so fast?”
“Fast? It’s been hours. We sent out ornithopters as soon as we saw your semaphore fall.” He shuddered as if he’d seen it himself. “Then the mayor of Iapyx arrived. He told us what happened, and we started the rescue and cleanup in earnest. Everybody’s in a panic.”
“The mayor …” I frowned. Why was that news disturbing?
But then he caught sight of my insignia.
“Wait a minute.” His brow furrowed. “You’re a communications worker … Are you Simon Daud?”
I have never been smart enough to lie. “Yes.”
He stared at me, his eyes all over my face. Then he looked away. “Oh, man.”
He was starting to pulse and blur. I realized I wasn’t too far from passing out.
The guard shook his head. “No.”
“No? What do you mean, no?” Then I thought: Why does this man have a gun?
“You’re an accused terrorist, Simon Daud. One of the people on the anchor.” He jerked his head back to where Iapyx used to be.
“But — I didn’t —”
“I know,” he said. “But that’s what everyone’s saying. The call went out as soon as Nathaniel Tal arrived. He blamed the Grounders. He said you were one of them. If you show your face to any other soldier, you’ll be arrested — assuming you’re not shot on sight. Tal’s orders.”
“What?” I shouted. The guard waved his hands frantically for me to keep my voice down. “Nathaniel’s here?” I hissed. “You’ve got to help me.” I took a step forward. “Please! You’ve got to tell them the truth!”
He clenched his teeth. I saw his Adam’s apple bob. “I can’t.”
The world dropped from beneath my feet. Again. “What do you mean you can’t? You just said you know I had nothing to do with this! You—” The light dawned. “You’re a Grounder too!”
“Don’t say that!” He jerked around, making sure we were alone. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “They’ve banned the group! They’re arresting the members in all the cities!”
“All of them?”
“Octavia and Daedalon, for sure. The others, once the news reaches them.”
“You’ve got to help me!”
“I can’t.”
“I can’t survive in the fog forest on my own!”
“I’m sorry! If they find out I’ve helped you, I’ll be arrested! My family will be arrested!”
“Please!” I grabbed his arm. “I’ll die out here! You’ve got to listen to me! Nathaniel —”
He shoved me back. “I’m sorry, but you’ve got to go, or you’re under arrest!” He swung up his gun at me, released the safety catch and shouted over his shoulder. “I’ve found Simon Daud! Come quickly!” He glared at me. “Go!” he hissed.
I could hear heavy boots tramping toward us. I staggered away, until I could barely hear their voices in the fog. Then I tripped and landed face-first in a clump of ferns.
I froze when I heard Nathaniel’s voice. “Sergeant Gaal.” I heard the click of a gun. “What did you see?”
“I–I’m sorry, sir,” said the sergeant. “I thought I saw something in the fog. Might have been an animal. Guess I was spooked, sir.”
Nathaniel grunted. “We’re all spooked, sergeant. Keep it together. I’ll get your chief to send another guard to keep watch with you. I think we need to double up.”
“Good idea, sir.”
I pushed myself up and struggled through the underbrush, not knowing where I was going, except away from my home. Away from everything. I didn’t know what else to do.
The crier’s voice followed me into the forest.
“No wealth, no land, no silver, no gold
Nothing satisfies me but your soul.
I am Death, I take your soul
Leave the body and leave it cold.”
The air felt like cotton batting — soft and thick. Black shapes of ferns and trees appeared with every step I took. The heat pressed in on me. My feet slipped in mud and splashed in puddles. All around me leaves rustled and creatures mocked, their snarls and cries like laughter.
When I stepped into water that rose to my knees, I sloshed back, stared around me, and sobbed. I couldn’t survive here. There was no way. Though I knew the forest stretched around me endlessly, I felt closed in. I might as well have been buried alive.
I thought again about just sitting down and staying there until death took me, but I couldn’t bring myself to sit down. The ground was too wet.
In the end, I turned and walked along the shore of the swamp. I had no idea where I was going. All I knew was that I couldn’t go back.
Then something ahead of me roared.
My heart pounded. Nearby, somewhere, something stamped the undergrowth. The creature roared again.
No ticking. Not a ticktock monster. But still very large, very fierce, and probably very able to catch and eat me if it wanted to. The sounds were coming closer.
I could not see myself living much longer. Already, my legs ached
with exhaustion. The joints of my hands were tightening up. I had no idea what food to eat or even if the water was safe to drink. But I heard the words of the CommController in my head. If I am to die, let it be on my own terms, and not cowering in some hideaway.
I picked a direction, and hoped I was right. I staggered on.
Branches battered me, and I heard the creature roar and smash through the foliage. It seemed to be coming closer. I changed direction. A leafy bush loomed up. I raised my hands, about to crash into its branches, when a small shape shot up beside me, grabbed my arm and swung me back.
I fell backward into the brush. The small monster wrapped itself around me and sat on my chest. I yelled and punched, but the monster grabbed my wrists and pinned them over my head. I shouted and kicked. I would not be some lizard’s dinner! I would not!
Then something lunged into my field of vision and let out a ferocious series of snaps and clicks. Brown hair brushed my face. But this wasn’t why I froze. I stopped moving because I saw a face staring back at me. It was a human face.
It was a girl.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THE GIRL OF THE FOG FOREST
SIMON:
The girl was about my age or maybe a year younger. Her skin was olive-dark and stained with mud. She had on skins or something that matched the olive of her cheeks. Her brown eyes bored into me as she held my wrists down with one hand and stuffed my mouth with her fist. Her eyes flicked up to the forest behind me.
There was a ferocious stamping in the undergrowth, then a roar, closer than ever. The girl gnawed her lip. The crashing grew louder. A shadow loomed up in the fog.
She took her fist from my mouth and then, palm toward her, swiped it through the air in front of her lips. I took her meaning and stayed quiet.
It seemed an age, but finally the tramping started to fade. We waited until all we heard was the rustle and smaller cries of the forest. She still pinned my arms above my head with one hand. My shoulders ached, but I didn’t dare move.
“Who are you?” I asked.
She looked me up and down with little jerks of her head. Her brow furrowed and her half-opened mouth showed her teeth. Then she opened her mouth, and … ticktocked!
My mind flashed to the stories I’d read and the games I’d played as a kid. The ticktock monsters! I struggled against her grip, but I was exhausted and she was wiry and strong. She pushed down on my wrists and clicked loudly in my face.
Gradually, my mind started working again. If she was a monster — and she didn’t look like a monster — she wasn’t going to attack, at least not yet. I stared up at her, gasping, but calming down.
She opened her mouth and made that strange ticking noise again, a series of clicks. She looked at me sharply, as though waiting for an answer, and that’s when I realized she had been speaking to me.
Speaking in the language of the ticktock monsters.
“Um,” I said. “Uh … I–I’m sorry. I don’t understand you.”
She jerked her head with obvious contempt. Then she fixed me with a meaningful glare and released my wrists. She crouched there, hands poised while I was careful to lie still. This seemed to satisfy her, and she climbed off me. She crouched down a few paces away and began sorting through one of her bags.
I sat up — with difficulty — and stared at her. Who was she? Where had she come from? She was human, there was no doubt about that, even if she spoke in the monsters’ language. She had human hair and human eyes and skin and she was wearing —
My mouth fell open when I realized she wasn’t wearing anything. At all. The skins that covered her were nothing more than carrying sacks. The clothing element was accidental. I had never seen women wearing clothes that showed anything more than an ankle. I blushed furiously.
The girl frowned at me. Without a second glance, she pulled off one of the bags and set it on the ground. I looked away.
I pushed myself up. She watched me warily as she sorted through her bags. I opened my mouth. “Um …” I had no idea what to say. “Uh …” This was worse than speaking to Isaac.
The girl looked up and said something else in her click language — something that required her to snap her fingers twice. I shook my head.
She tried clicking again. I shrugged. She flinched at that, looking bewildered, so I tried holding out my hands, palms up, miming bafflement.
She turned away with a click. She went to the bush I’d almost run into. Her face lit up and she let out a happy squeak, tapping her knuckles together. She stepped forward, opening one of her bags, and began pulling off leaves.
I staggered to my feet and stared at her. “What are you doing?”
The girl glanced at me over her shoulder, said nothing, and returned to her work.
Around me, the animals hooted and cried. In the distance, I thought I heard the crash and roar of the creature the girl had saved me from. I took a step toward her. Then I staggered, and clutched the stalk for support.
The bush she was pulling leaves from — the one she’d stopped me from crashing into — was round as a globe and a metre tall. Nearby were smaller, spiny globes. Even in a forest full of plants I’d never seen before, these were distinctive. What oddly shaped leaves! I reached out.
The girl batted my hand away. Her click language wasn’t much good for shouting, but she managed it.
“What?” I rubbed my wrist.
She chittered at me and pointed at the bush with her index and middle finger. I looked at the bush and back at her. I shrugged. Her brow furrowed at that and after a moment of silence she clacked at me again, and pointed again. Then she tapped my chest with her fist and did a two-finger point at the ground. Stay there, I thought that meant. Well, I could do that.
She stepped into a swampy puddle, wading toward a thin-leaved, long-stemmed plant. After a brief struggle, she pulled the long stem from the ground and held it like a javelin as she waded back to me. She reached with this pole and eased the leaves of the globe plant aside. She looked at me, clicked, and tilted her head toward the opening.
That’s when I saw the animal skeleton trapped within, thorns lacing through the bones. I felt the blood drain from my cheeks. The world swayed. Then again, that was probably just me.
The girl clicked twice. Using the pole, she eased me back. Dizzy, I eased myself back on the ground. She stepped to the plant.
“What are you do—”
She snapped off thorns. She worked fast, but expertly, shoving the thorns through little holes in one of her carrying bags — one of the thickest and most heavily padded, I noticed. She also took care not to get scratched.
Then she walked back to the stiff-stemmed plant and snapped smaller twigs off, peering down the length of them and tossing them aside until she selected two. The larger of these was hollow, and she used the smaller one to clean it out, blowing through it occasionally to test.
“What are you making?” I said. But the girl kept cleaning out that tube of hers.
She picked up the carrying bag she’d set down and put it on. She looked at me, her gaze running me up and down. I felt myself thoroughly appraised. Then she clicked and nodded over her shoulder. The meaning was obvious, especially when she turned to go.
I hesitated. Did I just get up and follow her? Yes, she’d saved me from that animal, but … who was she? How could she be there? And speaking in the language of the ticktock monsters? How could I possibly figure out who she was if I couldn’t even talk to her? Could I trust her?
Suddenly, there was a crash of vegetation, and the air beside me went black. A lizard — possibly the same one the girl had rescued me from — leapt with a roar, its claws outstretched.
In one smooth moment, the girl pulled out her hollow twig, shoved a thorn inside it, brought the twig to her lips and blew. The thorn zinged past my ear and struck the creature in the chest. Its roar turned to a screech, and it crashed to the ground at my feet. I leapt aside.
The girl let out a wordless cry of triumph — clearly s
he could make sounds other than ticking — shoved her new blowpipe back into its pocket, and knelt by the creature. It was breathing, but just barely. The girl wrapped her arms around its neck and gave the head a sharp twist. There was a crack, and the creature’s stiff limbs relaxed. I stood there, my face frozen in a grimace of shock and horror.
She hefted the lizard onto her shoulders like a big sack, and stood up. She looked at me, clicked twice and nodded over her shoulder. She turned away without another word, slipping through the underbrush.
I cast a glance at the impression the creature had left in the soft ground. Before the fog shrouded the girl from sight, I turned and followed her.
* * *
EK-TAAK-TOCK-TAAK:
I did not know what to expect when I got to the invaders’ metal hives, though I imagined many things. What I had not imagined was that I would find an invader boy and make him my responsibility.
But once I had decided to let him live, he became my responsibility. He would have died otherwise. Even if he had been in good health, he was not prepared for the dangers of the forest. And he was not in good health. He walked slowly, stiff and limping, leaning on anything that could offer support.
The strange invader boy followed me as I made my way up the slope toward the side of the chasm. He stumbled back, startled, when the cliff face emerged from the fog. He was that hopeless.
The gurgle of water told me I was close. A few steps later along the rock wall, I found a cold stream pouring from the cliff face. It had cut a hole into the rock large enough for me to step inside without lowering my head. The air smelled clear. No animal had made the cave its home.
I turned to the invader boy. « In here. » I tilted my head at the cave to make my meaning clear. It seemed to work. He followed me.
The heat left me after a few steps. This was the one thing I hated about these caves. Though shelter and shade were welcome, there was too much of it here. I would need to build a fire. But the cave opened up as I entered. It looked large enough to handle a fire and — here! — was a dry spot where I could put the slink down and lay the tinder.
The boy looked around and took deep breaths. He seemed to like the cold. I left him as he fell to his knees beside the stream and ran his hand through the water.
