Jaenen reached down, pulled her to her feet, and enveloped her in his arms, glaring at the bandits. “Leave the girl alone. Take our supplies.”
The others, all men and equally as dirty, laughed at Eye Patch writhing on the ground, clutching his face. He jumped to his feet, cursing, and scrambled back over the side. Jaenen pushed Selah away from the danger and assumed a fighting stance.
Her lip trembled, but she refused to show these men that she feared them. She lowered herself to the floor behind Jaenen and moved just her eyes to search for the leather bag of kapos. They weren’t her first thought for self-defense, but she would feel more secure knowing exactly where they lay if she needed them.
Treva and Cleon were circled on three sides with rifles pointed at their faces. Cleon kept his hands high. “What do you want? We don’t have anything worth stealing.”
“I think we’ll take this here fancy wagon of yours.” Dirty Nails had been chewing something, and now he spit, leaving a trail of brown slime on the floor of the AirWagon near the seat Selah had just vacated.
Another man with a dark green rag tied around his head climbed up on the side wall and leaned in. “This ain’t gonna rightly do us any good. I told you we shoulda let them pass by. This machine needs to be charged. How you think we’re gonna do that after it runs out?”
Selah took mental notes. They didn’t come from a town or community with fusion power sources.
A raggedy man with leather ties holding his pants to his worn boots climbed over the side near Dirty Nails and pointed at the console in front of Cleon. “And that’s got one of those bio-print controls. Only his hand will run the thing.”
Selah perked up. She didn’t know that. How did these guys? They looked like they didn’t know what water was, let alone technology.
“Then we take his hand,” Eye Patch sneered.
Selah’s chest clutched at the thought of losing her brother in such a vicious way for a meaningless theft. Her breathing shallowed. She would fight to the end to save Cleon.
“That won’t work, you dumb knot. It’s a bio-computer. The hand needs to be alive. And we ain’t even takin’ another mouth with us to feed,” Leather Ties said.
“Ain’t you just mister smart britches,” Dirty Nails said. “Then what do you propose we do? We gotta get something out of this.” He ogled Treva and Selah.
Selah raised her chin in defiance. Try it and I’ll detach your body parts, she thought. Treva’s head snapped in her direction. A hint of a nervous smile crossed her lips. She must have heard Selah’s thought.
“Take our supplies.” Jaenen gestured to the neatly stacked packages. “We have a lot of food.”
Selah noted he didn’t offer up their hidden weapons. Her heart pounded. She hadn’t prepared for a battle. She needed focus, not fear. She pulled in a few long breaths to calm her quivering extremities. A flash popped before her eyes. She squeezed them tight. Not now!
Dirty Nails and Eye Patch herded Selah and the group out of the AirWagon and onto the side of the road. Leather Ties held them at gunpoint while the AirWagon was stripped of belongings, and several of the bandits moved off into the woods with the majority of the booty.
Selah cringed watching the supplies disappear. One of the bandits noticed her leather bag. He poured the kapos out on the ground and picked one up by the blade using two fingers.
“What would anybody want with this baby pig sticker?” He threw his head back and laughed.
“You could probably give them to Lys to clean his nails,” another answered.
Dirty Nails growled his displeasure at being the butt of their jokes and fired off a round, just missing the ear of the one who’d last spoken. Everyone scrambled from the vicinity, leaving the man standing there motionless as a tree, still holding Selah’s knife.
“You don’t have to get so ornery about it. I was just joking.” The man threw the knife to the ground with the others, walked over the bunch, and ground them into the soft forest floor at the edge of the road.
Selah tried to make eye contact with Treva to keep her friend calm. She thought any show of emotion might give the bandits further provocation, and Treva appeared on the verge of tears. Cleon and Jaenen took up positions in front of the girls as a shield.
Dirty Nails grabbed Selah’s backpack from the remaining pile and dumped it out. He kicked through her clothing and other items, then felt over the bag and ripped open the side pocket, exposing the wrapped cloth. She tensed.
He dropped the bag and unfolded the cloth, discarded the data glass pack, and turned the reader over in his hand. “Does everything you people use take some kind of power? You’re all slaves to the order.” He tossed the reader on the bag.
Selah squeezed her lips tight, hoping the reader and data glass hadn’t broken.
“We need something more to give you passage through our land. How much money you people got to go with this bounty?” Dirty Nails walked the line of them, stopping near Selah. Her stomach lurched. She forced down her gag reflex at the rancid smell emanating from him. How could one person possess such a vile odor?
“We’ve got very little, but I don’t think it will work for you.” Cleon held out his ComLink and opened the bio-coin interface.
Dirty Nails slapped his arm away. “I mean real money! Gold, silver, stones?”
Selah jerked her head around. She hadn’t heard anyone talk of stones since she was little. He meant diamonds, the stones of barter in the wild lands. Very few people she knew dealt in any physical currencies—too bulky, and easily lost or stolen.
Cleon shook his head. “No. We don’t use metals or stones, only virtual coin.”
Selah knew just what he was thinking. If they spent virtual coin it could be traced.
Dirty Nails grabbed Treva by the arm. Cleon reached to stop him. Two rifles drew down on him. He raised his arms in surrender as he backed away.
“I think we may need to take these here women with us as the rest of the payment.” Dirty Nails sneered at Cleon and turned to face Jaenen. “You had something to say about my friend touching your woman before. What you got to say now?”
Jaenen opened his mouth.
“I’m not his woman.” Selah put fists to hips. “You talk to me if you have something to say about me.” Suddenly she realized how stupid that sounded, but there was no taking it back. She stuck out her chin and glared at Dirty Nails.
The bandits howled, making snide comments about Dirty Nails’ lack of ability to control one little woman. His hand shot out and he slapped Selah across the face.
She saw it coming as if in slow motion. She flinched, turning with the slap to lessen the blow. Fear dissolved. She licked her lip, looking for blood, then cracked her neck from side to side. Her nails dug into the palms of her hands. Pain heightened her sense of fear.
Jaenen lurched to her defense. A rifle barrel intercepted him. He retreated, hands raised, forehead bloody.
Selah’s eyes narrowed. What manner of craziness was this? Everything was moving in singular frames of time. She glared at Dirty Nails again, wishing she could shoot flames from her eyes.
The smile left his face. He threw his rifle to the side and grabbed the front of her shirt with both hands, drawing her into his putrid smell. She gagged and recoiled. He yanked her forward again to stand nose to nose, snapping her head back.
A guttural roar burst from her chest. “Nooo!” Selah thrust out both palms to push him away. Dirty Nails lifted from the ground and slammed into the top side of the AirWagon. He dropped to the ground with legs and arms splayed.
The remaining bandits turned and ran, leaving Dirty Nails to flop around on the ground. The sound of horses galloping away into the forest punctuated his curses as he gained his footing and snatched up his discarded rifle. He spit and scrambled after his men. At the end of the forest he turned back. “What kind of freak are you, lady?”
Selah stumbled back, extending her arms to steady herself. Cleon and Jaenen stood rooted.
&nbs
p; Treva rushed to her side. “What was that?”
“I don’t have a clue.” Selah held up her hands and scanned both palms. They vibrated again like this morning. Fear and wonder consumed her at the same time. Was this part of being novarium?
“I guess you won’t have a use for these.” Cleon gathered up her scattered kapos and dropped them back in the leather pouch.
“Are you going to tell us what’s going on, or do we just pretend we didn’t see you make that guy fly through the air?” Jaenen stood his ground, noticeably farther away.
Selah winced, though Treva didn’t appear intimidated.
“How long has that been happening?” Treva rested her hand on Selah’s arm.
“I don’t know. I think I first noticed it this morning.” Selah continued to stare at her hands as though some invisible text would pop up with a warning label and directions.
“Can you do it again?” Cleon closed the pouch.
“I don’t know. I’ll try.” Selah extended her hands. She didn’t know how to turn on whatever it was that made the energy burst. She tensed her muscles, then jerked her hands forward. Nothing happened.
Treva jumped back. “Hold on! I think you need a focal point and I don’t want to be it.”
“Me either!” Cleon and Jaenen spoke in unison.
“Maybe it’s an emotional reaction, and you need to be upset or something,” Treva said.
“I was angry about being slapped, and his smell made my stomach lurch.” Selah rubbed at her hands.
Jaenen shook his head. “We came out of that a lot better than I expected. This is why a caravan is always the safest bet through this part of the country. You two women were very brave.”
“I wasn’t scared like this morning in the earthquake,” Selah said.
“Earthquake? What earthquake?” Cleon slowly approached.
“When I was in the Repository.”
Treva waved a finger back and forth. “We’re going to have to work on improving our communication, ’cause I don’t remember you saying a single word about anything like an earthquake.”
Selah hung her head. “I thought you’d make me stay home if I told you I was seeing things.”
“Ladies, how about we continue this conversation on the road and get out of here before our company decides to return?” Jaenen snatched up Selah’s bag and stuffed the contents back inside, including the reader and data glass holder. He started to toss it into the wagon, but Selah caught his arm and gently relieved him of the bag.
The four scrambled into the AirWagon. Cleon rubbed the control panel and encouraged it to start, using sweet cooing sounds like Selah heard him use when talking to his cows. She and Treva traded glances and giggles, but when the AirWagon fired up, they both cheered. Cleon threw it in forward, and they shot up the road at close to the max of forty miles an hour.
No one spoke. The silence was almost a group signal for “don’t break the good fortune by talking until we’re completely safe.” Fifteen minutes later they let out a collective sigh of relief as the waters of the Delaware Bay appeared.
“How long will it take to cross the water?” Already glistening with sweat, Selah rubbed her hands down her pant legs. Thinking about one of those large-finned monsters chomping down on a leg and dragging her out to sea had kept her on land since the age of ten, when she’d witnessed a shark attack that left the waters churning red with blood. She loved the ocean smell and the hypnotic motion of the waves, but that was as close as she wanted to get even though she could swim well. Mother said swimming was like riding a horse—you never forgot how.
“Maybe fifteen minutes,” Cleon said. “I’ll keep it at top speed. I know your love of the water.”
Treva turned. “Oh, you like to swim too! I love—”
“I hate it. He was being sarcastic,” Selah said.
Jaenen reached over and patted her arm. Selah grabbed his hand, turning her knuckles white with the strength of her death grip. Jaenen grimaced but lifted the left side of his mouth in a tortured half smile. Selah appreciated his sacrifice as she restricted the blood flow to his hand.
She needed something to alleviate her fear of the AirWagon pitching and dumping her in the water at any second. She took a few quick looks at the waves sliding along the bay. Her chest squeezed. Small whitecaps dotted the peaks on the surface, and an occasional gull dove for fish. For the most part, she kept her eyes closed, content to smell the seaweed and brine in the air. That was as close as she wanted to get.
She bit her lip raw until they safely edged onto shore at the other side, then expelled the breath it seemed she’d held since they started across.
“How soon can we get to the Mountain?” Selah said without thinking.
“The Mountain?” Treva turned to face her. “What do you, of all people, want with the Mountain?”
Selah slid her hand from Jaenen’s. He looked at her apologetically. “You might as well tell them. It’s now or never.”
Cleon cycled down the AirWagon and it drifted to the ground. “Tell us what?” He looked at Jaenen. “Apparently you knew about this?”
Jaenen bristled. “Listen, my job is to find your—”
“It’s not Jaenen’s fault. I didn’t tell him the whole story.” Selah looked around. “Are we safe to stop here? I don’t want to get attacked just for the sake of conversation.”
“We’re on the safe side of the bay. We’ll be camping a few miles farther up the road near WoodHaven. Tell me what’s going on.” Cleon swiveled his seat around to face her.
“Please don’t be mad.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I went to the healer, and she let me . . .”
“What?” Cleon leaned down to look into Selah’s downcast eyes.
“I’ve been to the Repository looking for information on novarium who’ve gone before me.” She just couldn’t talk anymore about Bodhi’s loss. It was his private business, and she didn’t think it was right to be discussing it in a group setting. As it stood, Bodhi would be livid Jaenen was on this trip.
“Okay, so what does that have to do with the Mountain? Please tell me they don’t have novarium trapped in there too.” Treva’s forehead wrinkled with worry lines.
“No, nothing like that. But I did find a corrupted Mountain file with part of my stepfather’s name.”
Cleon jumped to his feet, banging his hip on the control levers. He winced. “Father’s in the Mountain? How is that possible? Are Mother and Dane with him?”
Selah shook her head. “I don’t know anything else.”
Cleon pointed a finger at her. “We have to go there, but you’re going back home. You’re their main target, and I don’t want you in that kind of danger.”
“No, I’m not going home. It’s my information, and if I don’t get to go, you can’t have it.” She would give it to him anyway if there was a chance their parents were somehow trapped there, but making threats at the moment might work in her favor.
Treva attempted to smooth things over. “Wait, you two. We need to think logically of the best and safest plan.”
Jaenen silently watched the exchange, then raised a hand. “Since I’m the navigator Glade hired for this family retrieval operation, I think I get a say. Selah has the data glass, so I say she gets to come. Cleon, they’re your parents too, so you get to come. Treva . . .” Jaenen threw up his hands. “It’s your Mountain—join the party.”
Relief washed over Selah as she tried to stifle a grin. After Jaenen evoked Glade’s name, there was nothing Cleon or Treva could say to make her go home. She’d won this round. That was another one she owed Jaenen.
Cleon sputtered and gritted his teeth but voiced no further protest. He turned back to the controls. “Since we don’t have any food, we need to get to the camp area so we can hunt for dinner before it gets dark. But first, Sissy, I want to know about the earthquake you said you felt this morning.”
“I’ll tell you on the way. I’d feel more comfortable off the ground and moving,” Selah said.<
br />
He fired up the AirWagon and they headed west toward the rusted skeletal remains of the city called Dove. The name made Selah think of peace—something she could really learn to appreciate at the moment.
9
Bodhi, Glade, and Taraji met with the commander of Lander security for Wilmington. His sparsely furnished field office at the landing pad consisted of a desk and chair, a computer link, and a couple of basic seats in a dusty brown room—a classic example of the quality of security Bodhi had seen in Wilmington on a number of occasions in the past. Most crime on this trail could be attributed to bio-coin payoffs of the local officials along the way. Unfortunately, corruption was also prevalent in Lander security in the larger cities like Wilmington and Baltimore.
“You three have certainly put a dent in the criminal element around this substation,” the commander said. He’d arrived five minutes after they slammed the security door shut.
“Do we know if these are your ordinary malcontents or one of the splinter groups?” Bodhi chose to lean against the wall instead of taking an uncomfortable-looking metal chair.
“We picked up two bodies and captured both of the wounded trying to get away. They’re splinters all right. They’re all marked,” the commander said.
“What kind of marks?” Bodhi looked at Glade. He hadn’t heard of this before. There were more Landers with marks on their heads?
Glade shook his head. “Not like you’d think of Landers. Both splinter groups lost their Lander head markings with intermarriage of the first generation. They’re still of Lander blood, but from the second generation forward, they were changed.”
Taraji leaned forward on her chair. “They fought against the original Lander mission, so they intermarried on purpose to wipe out the head marks, then created their own marks.”
“One group has a tattoo of a bird, and the other group has a sword,” the commander said as he fingered the halo-keyboard. He tilted the screen so they could see illustrations of the two marks.
Bodhi stared at an image of a slender bird with long tail feathers that started near the fingers of the right hand and extended up the arm to the shoulder. The other image showed a sword laced with a lightning bolt on the upper arm.
Lightning Page 8
