Children of the Kradle (Trilogy Book 1)

by Alexa Hamilton

  Every single person was dead silent.

  Telly raised her hand. “So, maybe we could do a quiet night rescue.”

  “Who’s this we?” asked Kurt. “Women aren’t going.”

  “And why not?” protested Henny. “You’ll need our help.”

  Cree shook his head and rubbed his forehead. “I thought I had escaped all this when I came here, but it sticks. It follows.”

  “What follows?” asked Henny.

  But Cree didn’t reply. He just looked down at the trampled sand, shaking his head.

  Wil raised his hand. “Whoever brought up weapons, I don’t like that idea. Why do we need weapons?”

  Kurt looked at him incredulously. “Why wouldn’t we need weapons?”

  “I just don’t like the idea of needing them.”

  “Well it doesn’t matter if you like the ‘idea’ or not, if we bloody well need them, now does it?”

  “Look Kurt, I’m just saying I like things the way they are around here. Whatever we’ve been doing, it’s working—“

  “Yeh. Except it’s not anymore.”

  “Well, maybe that’s true, but, I don’t like the thought of everyone walking around with deadly, battle weapons all the time.”

  Kurt gestured sharply. “But it wouldn’t be all the time. We can destroy the weapons once we have the girl and it’s over.”

  Thomas stepped toward the middle of the circle. “I think we’re overlooking an essential point here. Our main defense is our silence. We remain hidden. We don’t bother them. They don’t bother us. The Poachers are evil. I’ve seen it first hand, but we live in relative peace with them because; one: there are plenty of resources for everyone on this island, and two: they have no reason to come after us, but, if we go and take their woman…now,” he raised a finger, “now they have reason. And they will come. They’ll come running over that mountain with a vengeance.”

  “And we’ll have started a war,” said Telly.

  Thomas nodded. “Exactly. However, I’m not saying we shouldn’t rescue the poor girl. If I could go back in time and have spared our dear Mevia of her captivity with them, I would do so. I simply wanted to bring up the point so we all know what we’re potentially getting into.”

  There was a beat of silence.

  “So we won’t be destroying those battle weapons anytime soon,” said Lin, twisting the hook in his ear. “In fact, we’ll probably have to carry them with us around the clock.” His glass eyes bore into Mevia, their expression unreadable.

  Sandra sighed. “That’s why I called you here so urgently. This decision is a difficult one and cannot be taken lightly. Even if only a few of us go in the night and bring Flora back, this will still affect us all. Every one if your lives will be in danger from that day forth.”

  “Yeh. Unless we kill them all,” called out Henny, “or at least most of them. We could leave one or two and convert them to Triton.”

  Cree frowned. “Hey, I don’t want blood on my hands. Ninety-nine percent of the world’s population is dead, why are we suddenly jumping at the idea of killing more people?”

  “But these are bad people! I say kill them all.” Kurt said.

  This brought about another hum of discussion.

  “I agree with Kurt!” Telly said.

  “Fucking relax, Telly,” Wil spat.

  “Watch it Wil!” Kurt jabbed his finger in the air.

  And that’s when the crystal of civility broke and everyone began yelling at one another. Mevia had never witnessed a cross word exchanged among the circle, and now, because of her, the peace was shattered. She stood up. “Stop! Everyone stop! Please.” But nobody was listening. She looked to Sandra who still held her expression of calm dignity. Sandra turned and grabbed the large cooking pot sitting just outside and removed the spoon.

  Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong!

  “Attention!”

  But the arguers weren’t ready to stop. “Do we even know for sure that she’s still alive?” someone shouted.

  Bong! Bong! Bong! “Listen everyone!” Sandra raised her hand, the voices eventually died. “I say we put it to a vote.”

  Then a new buzz of chatter broke out.

  “But,” she continued, “not right now. Not today.”

  “When?”

  She thought for a moment. “I want you all to think about what we discussed. Consider every point. Most importantly, I want you all to discuss the issue openly with one another. Please, that’s the most important part. Then, the day after tomorrow, we’ll put it to a vote. The majority will decide. Will we invade the Poachers?”

  There were some grumblings. Wil stormed off muttering something about his tools. The rest of the group slowly rose and dissipated, murmuring to one another.

  “This is how it starts,” Cree said. “This was how it all began.”

  That night, after dinner and chores, Mevia wasn’t tired. She told Sandra she was going to see James on the mountain.

  She took a torch and climbed. She went past a white family of goats, huddled together. They acknowledge her presence by making short, chipped grunts in their throats, but made no effort to leave. Right before the top, she stopped at a jut in the rock, and left her torch. She found James, just a sliver in the night sky, looking out to the moonlit ocean.

  She approached, whistling so as not to startle him. He turned. It was dark but she could tell he was glad to see her.

  “Is this about the power module or the rescue mission?” He asked, sitting down.

  She sat and gazed at the land below. “Both.”

  He said nothing.

  “They brought up a good point back there,” Mevia said, “I don’t even know if Flora is still alive. And I can’t allow everyone to risk their lives if it’s all for nothing.”

  James was silent.

  “So,” she continued. “I have an idea.”

  “I’m listening.”

  Mevia pointed toward the Poachers’ domain hidden in the shadows of the rocks. “I just want to go down there and take look, see if she’s still alive.” She turned to him. “They’ll never know we’re there. James, I just want to make sure I’m not sending the Tritons into war for nothing. You understand?”

  James rubbed his chin and stared into the distance at the death valley below. “So,” he said, “if I help you find Flora then we’ll also get the power module and we’ll get off this island.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And if Flora is alive we’ll come back and tell everyone.”

  “Absolutely.”

  He studied her face. “And then? What will happen after that?”

  Mevia sighed. “I guess we’ll put it to a vote. I don’t know, but we can’t worry about that now. We just need to take a look and grab that module.”

  James sat quietly for a minute before he spoke. “So, where are you going after we get to the mainland?”

  “To the drug factory,” Mevia replied without hesitation. “Do you think Kilt still wants to help?”

  James shrugged. “Beats me. I haven’t seen him in over a year.”

  “What about you? Do you want to?”

  James didn’t answer. He was looking out into the ocean. “Are you going to look for Eli?”

  She pulled her knees to her chest and looked up. “Don’t have to.” The full moon hung in the sky, sneering down at the Earthlings as if it were a champion war lord, scarred and regal. “I already know where he is. He should be looking for me.”

  She must have replied more curtly than she intended because James chuckled. “Relax. I’m just giving you a hard time.”

  She threw a pebble and pegged him in the arm.

  “But, seriously,” he leaned toward her, “if you have nowhere to go, why don’t you just stick with me and Kilt? I’m sure he’d be happy if you came.”

  Mevia abruptly stood and brushed off the seat of her skirt, avoiding his eyes. “Maybe,” she said. “After the drug factory.” She leaned over and peered down at the beach, white and smooth as
spilled milk. “Hey, can you get Henny or someone to take over for you tonight?”

  “Uh, maybe. Why?”

  “Just say you’re feeling sick.” She turned and walked back the way she came. “You need to get your sleep. We’re leaving in the morning.”

  James stood. “Tomorrow?”

  “Yes, the sooner the better. Flora isn’t going to last much longer down there.”

  “Tomorrow? As in the day time? Isn’t that dangerous?”

  She turned and met his expectant eyes. “In the daylight we can keep our distance, observe them from afar. I’m not planning on getting any closer than we have to.”

  James shifted his weight from foot to foot.

  “And James? Remember, from the minute we step foot off this mountain, up until we get back, not a moment will pass where our lives are not in danger.”

  James’ back was to the moon and his face was shadowed so deeply, she couldn’t see his lips move. “I understand.”

  Chapter 32

  They set out just after breakfast. Mevia mentioned to Sandra that she was going out to “gather herbs” and would be “gone for hours,” She felt bad for lying and didn’t want the others to worry, so she scratched a note on the back of a rough clay plate using the soot of a small burnt twig: Went scouting poachers w James. Dont come look. Im ok. The plate wouldn’t be used until lunch, giving them some time to get away.

  They began their climb over the eastern point of the mountain where it was camouflaged by jungle. Each carried a crafted backpack filled with food—boiled Guinea eggs, bananas, boiled potatoes, and handmade canteens of water. Both brought bone nosed knives, long and sharp which they tucked inside their goat skin belts.

  James picked out a walking stick along the way for balance. He offered it to Mevia but she declined, wanting to keep her hand free in case she needed to make a grab for her knife.

  “Make sure your head is screwed on and you keep track of where we are,” James coached as he walked ahead. “If you forget where you came from, you won’t know where you’re going.”

  How right you are.

  They hiked in silence. At first, every flutter, every rustle in the bush triggered a grab for the knives, but eventually, they grew accustomed to the sounds of nature and relaxed.

  “I think we should ignore the sounds from above. If they’re around, we’ll hear noises from the ground, like twigs snapping,” said Mevia.

  “Yeh.”

  Hours later they stopped for lunch. Mevia made the suggestion, worried that the sound of James’ wheezing would attract someone. He feigned reluctance but quickly shed his pack and slumped against a tree trunk. They sat in the shadows with their backs against a fat palm for protection.

  James ate quickly and finished while Mevia was still only halfway through. He must have been feeling better because he began chatting, telling about himself.

  “Kilt and I were born in the Corps. Lived there for a long time too. See?” He moved his scarf over revealing his thin naked chest which bore an impressively deep vertical line.

  Mevia frowned. “Ow. For your heart?”

  “Yeh.” He replaced his shirt. “And that’s not just one scar but ten—one upon the other, upon the other, and so on and so forth.” He smiled sheepishly.

  “So you were really sick?”

  He laughed. “Ten open heart surgeries in eight years. Yeh, I’d say so.”

  She shook her head unable to imagine such a feat.

  “But,” he continued, “maybe the eleventh one would have saved me.” He turned his darkened eyes to her. “I’m still a pretty sick kid, as you probably know.”

  They were both quiet for a minute. Mevia finished an egg. “So what happened if you don’t mind me asking?”

  He shook his head, fidgeting with a brown egg peel. “I don’t mind. We got kicked out of the Corps when I was eight. My dad was having issues. He was some kind of an accountant, apparently high up there too. But, I dunno, maybe he got depressed or something. All I know was it got to where he couldn’t seem to leave the apartment most days. Then he kept getting fired, or demoted or whatever. We had to move like five times that year.”

  “What about your mom?”

  James made pssh sound and shook his head. “She was…I don’t know. Let’s just say she didn’t handle it well. She certainly didn’t want to get a job if that’s what you’re asking. She was as the phrase goes; ‘a lady of leisure.’”

  “I see.”

  “Anyway, I don’t know how much Kilt told you back at the Training Center, but we eventually got sent down to the Slags. Nothing changed. Dad couldn’t work. Mom wouldn’t work, so later that year went were sent down again to the Farms.”

  “Sounds like those Corp bastards. They work you until they have no more use and then whoosh. You’re out of there.”

  “Yeh, that seems to be their policy. But, actually,” he said, “for us it was a good thing, well minus my heart condition which never got fixed despite what the doctors claimed.” He picked up a rock and tossed it into the brush. “Funny, apparently I was miraculously cured at the exact same time we got kicked out of the Corps. Helluva coincidence huh?”

  “Terrible.”

  “I’m all right. But like I said, it was sorta a good thing. Farm work got us out of the house, and away from our screwed up parents.” He laughed. “We had a good time out there in those fields.” His face was pale and damp with sweat. Mevia wondered how much further he could go.

  Seeming to read her mind, James stood up. “Shall we?”

  They continued. Every so often Mevia reached for her knife, her fingers tracing the precious edge.

  ***

  It took nearly three hours for them to get to the slate-like hill which surrounded the Poachers’ valley.

  “This is it,” Mevia whispered as they ducked behind the bushes. “It shouldn’t be too difficult to climb.” She glanced down at James’ pitiful chest heaving like a dying steam engine. His eyes had a wet, strained look. She would have offered to go on her own, but she was too scared and afraid she might freeze up once at the top. Besides, it wouldn’t be smart for them to separate with darkness falling. “Come on,” she said in a lowered voice. “We’ll take it slow.”

  Their hike over the mountainside was as ominous as a funeral march. Neither said a word. They moved sideways up the slick hill by crisscrossing their sandaled feet: left, right-over-left, left, like they were line dancers preforming on a slanted floor.

  Just before reaching the top, they unanimously plopped down to catch their breath.

  They lay there for a minute staring at one another, heads turtled into their shoulders, each with a fine layer of sweat across their brows.

  “Do they live down there?” James whispered.

  Mevia nodded, already shaking uncontrollably. This was going to be harder than she anticipated.

  “You want me to look first?” he offered. Without waiting for a response, he wrapped a timid hand over the ledge and slowly lifted his head.

  Mevia held her breath and watched his eyes darting back and forth over the valley below.

  He lowered himself and returned to the turtle position. “I didn’t see anyone, but it’s definitely the right address. Take a look.”

  She bit her lip and peered over.

  A fire was going in the middle of the main camp. The sand was curly with footsteps. Tools and weapons were strewn about like bored toys, but not a man in sight.

  The open valley was framed by a circle of loosely scattered jungle. The cave sat at the far west end, looking like an ancient beast that was running but mid-stride fell and died instantly, it’s mouth cranked open by rigor mortis. A few yards from the opening was a hole—the hole, and it was open, the bamboo cage tossed aside.

  She watched the hole for a little while, hoping to see something, but the deep concave was as still as the dead, a black O, as if the surrounding earth was frozen in a horrible moan.

  In all her time, she had never witnessed an aerial p
oint of view, and now understood why Slit, the leader, had never shown interest in the Tritons’ living. This valley was easy, unobstructed, uncomplicated. Not like the Clearing which was only made livable by the Originals who carved out a piece of land through months of bone-grinding labor. Below in the valley, there were no rocky paths, no stone to clear, and no choking jungle to forage. She couldn’t see it from where she sat, but there was a freshwater spring further north—although they never had much of a taste for water, and bathing was not among their priorities.

  She lowered herself.

  James was wide-eyed. “Could you see anything?”

  “No. We need to get a better look.” She gestured past him. “That way. This rock wraps around the back end.”

  They climbed back down to the base and made their way on foot through the roughage, soft steps and knives drawn. When they came upon bramble too thick to pass, they resorted to climbing along the rock until the jungle thinned. It was hard going, and the sun was drawing closer to the west. Although she knew James needed a break, she pushed on. No way was she sleeping out here tonight.

  The day was almost over by the time they made it around and back up the hill. The sun wasn’t pink yet, so they still had time. Peaking over the rock ledge, they watched. No one in sight.

  “Is this normal?” asked James.

  “Nothing that happens here is what we would call ‘normal.’ All they do is hunt, eat, and drink.”

  They peered down for another minute.

  “Well, what now?” He asked.

  “I think they might be out hunting.”

  “If they’re out, we might run into them on our way back. How many are there?”

  “Eight.”

  James lowered his head between his arms. “Damn.” He looked up. “Do they all go hunting together?”

  Mevia frowned. “Sometimes. Actually, maybe some of them are passed out.” She made a “drinking” signal with her hand.

  “There’s only one way to find out.”

  She ducked down and lay against the rock, puffing for air. Her head was growing light as if it were lifting off. Her vision swam before her eyes.