The Ark Plan

by Laura Martin

  “I know what you mean.”

  Todd nodded, and headed across the last bridge. We made it back into the tree house with all the eggs intact, and I opened the door cautiously, not wanting to wake up Shawn, but he was already up and dressed. The green tunic he wore made his blond hair stand out in startling contrast.

  “Just in time.” Emily smiled as she scooped the bowl of eggs out of my arms. “I was worried you’d gotten lost.”

  “I was just giving her an egg-gathering lesson,” Todd said, smirking. “She was a natural.” I stuck my tongue out at him, biting back a grin as I wandered over to stand next to Emily by the fireplace. The bulge of muscle on her arms and shoulders was apparent even through the tunic she was wearing. She was used to a life of hard work. I watched skeptically as she banged each egg roughly on the edge of her pan to crack it. They just looked too much like snot to be edible.

  Once the blankets on the couch were folded, I looked around for my body armor. Emily saw and motioned with her hand toward the dresser.

  “Since you’re going to trade that thing, don’t bother with putting it back on, dear. I got you something more decent to wear from one of our neighbors with a daughter your size. Just step behind the curtain there and throw them on.” Behind the curtain, I found a pair of tight brown leggings and a forest-green tunic, more fitted than the boys’ but similar. I felt the tunic’s unfamiliar softness. After years of coarse fabrics, this was a luxury I could get used to. I shrugged into the clothes and neatly folded my scratchy gray leggings and shirt and put them in my pack. When I came back around the curtain, Emily was serving the boys their eggs. Todd dug in immediately, but Shawn looked down at the fluffy yellow mixture apprehensively.

  I sat down beside him, eyeing my own plate with suspicion, but I picked up my fork and took a bite despite my qualms about where this particular delicacy had come from. The flavor was unlike anything I had ever tasted. I smiled reassuringly at Shawn. “Go with it,” I murmured. He did. When we were finished, I helped Emily clear the table.

  “I’m glad you liked the eggs,” she smiled. “Todd told me these were your first.”

  “They were wonderful. Thank you for letting us stay the night, and feeding us . . .” I trailed off, feeling very indebted to these strangers. “We appreciate your kindness.”

  “My pleasure.” Emily waved us off. “No trouble at all. It’s nice to see new faces.”

  At that moment, Verde came scampering up to the table and sat back on her haunches. Todd flipped her a chunk of egg, and she chuckled happily. He picked up the body armor I’d set on the table, and wrinkled his nose as he held it up to the light. “We’ll need to trade these for a bow and knife for each of you. Minimum. Knowing how to use them would be even better. I could give you basic training if you wanted. In a month I could have you shooting straight.”

  “Nope.” I shook my head. “Not going to happen. I need to get to Lake Michigan, and I need to get there fast.”

  “She’s in a big hurry to get eaten,” Shawn said conspiratorially, winking at Emily. Emily didn’t smile.

  “Getting eaten isn’t funny around here,” she said quietly, taking the boys’ empty plates. Shawn’s ears burned red. I felt sorry for him. There was no way he could have known that Todd’s dad had been eaten only two years ago.

  Todd bounded to his feet. “Let’s go.”

  “Why don’t you take them to see Roderick first,” Emily said. “I think he’d like a look at their map, and he might be able to tell them the best route to Lake Michigan.”

  “Why didn’t I think of that?” Todd said. “Mom, it’s easy to see where I get my brains from.” He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and turned to us. “Roderick first, then the trading post.”

  “So who’s Roderick?” I asked a few minutes later as we made our way into glaring sunlight. I blinked, my eyes watering a bit. Did spending the first twelve years of my life underground damage them somehow? Todd didn’t seem bothered by the sun at all.

  “You’ll love him,” Todd said. “He’s a little nuts, but he’s a collector.”

  “What’s a collector?” Shawn asked.

  “Sorry,” Todd said, charging across a rope bridge, not even bothering to hold on as it pitched and jumped. My breath hissed out between my teeth at the sight of the forest floor far below us. “I keep forgetting you two don’t know much.”

  “It’s fine,” Shawn grunted, clutching at the rope bridge with both hands. “We keep forgetting too.”

  “A collector is someone who specializes in something from the old world. You’ll see.”

  We moved from one bridge to another, snaking our way through the trees. When I wasn’t preoccupied with trying not to fall to my death, I studied the surrounding tree houses with interest. Just like Todd and Emily’s house, they were all constructed of a dinosaur-bone frame with wood walls, but that was where the similarities ended. Some sprawled across the entire width of the tree, obviously containing multiple rooms, while others utilized the trees’ height, sporting two or even three levels. Circular, square, rectangular, and octagonally shaped windows dotted the houses, obviously scavenged from the wreckage of abandoned buildings. Shawn bumped into me from behind when I paused too long to study one particularly beautiful window I thought must be made of stained glass. And under every window was a window box overflowing with flowers, herbs, and bright red tomatoes. Each tree contained only one house, and trees without houses had small wooden decks built on them that acted as hubs for the various rope bridges that crisscrossed through the branches.

  We stopped on one of these decks, and I looked out at the village. The day was in full swing now, and people called to one another across the gap between trees, and rope bridges bustled with activity. Brightly colored clothes hung out to dry on long lines tied from one tree to the next. I watched in amazement as a little boy, no bigger than two or three, tottered out of a tree house unaccompanied. I grabbed Todd’s arm in terror as he climbed up onto the railing and, with a giggle, threw himself off the deck. I shrieked, and Todd laughed.

  “It’s fine,” he said. “Look.” A moment later, a flustered woman came out onto the deck, looked down, and then grabbed onto a rope and hauled the giggling toddler back over the railing. It was only then that I noticed the boy was wearing a harness, very similar to the one I’d worn the day before.

  “I think I just had a heart attack,” I said, sagging in relief as the mother disappeared into the house, toddler in hand.

  “I used to get in so much trouble for deck diving,” Todd said, smiling wistfully at the memory.

  “Deck diving?” Shawn said. “That’s a thing?”

  “All kids are required to wear safety harnesses until the age of five,” Todd said. “It’s the law here at the Oaks. The harnesses are attached to a rope tied in the house. That way no one accidentally falls.” When we still looked unconvinced, he shrugged. “It’s a real rush. If you two were going to stick around, I’d show you. A few of us still do it every now and then for fun.”

  “I’ll pass,” Shawn said, looking a little green.

  “I’ll let you know once my heart starts beating again,” I said. Todd laughed. Five bridges later, we were standing in front of a two-story tree house built into the branches of one of the biggest trees I’d ever seen.

  “These houses really are amazing,” Shawn said, poking experimentally at one of the deck railings.

  “Thanks,” Todd said. “We rebuild them every ten years.”

  “Why?” I asked, thinking of the compound, in use now for over a hundred and fifty years.

  “Wood rots,” Todd explained. “We tear houses down before they fall out of the tree.” He smiled when I shuddered, picturing one of the houses crashing to the ground. “It’s not that big of a deal. The houses seem to get better each time we do it. My great-grandpa was one of the Oak’s founders, and he said the first houses were barely more than a few boards tossed together.”

  “Now I’m even more impressed,” Sh
awn said grudgingly.

  Todd grinned cockily. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” He knocked on the door of the house. I heard the excited snort of an animal inside, and then something collided with the door.

  “Back! Back!” came a nasal voice from inside, followed by the sound of a brief scuffle. Moments later the door opened and a tall, thin man stood in the doorway, holding the collar of what I initially thought was some kind of strange pig. But it couldn’t be a pig, I reasoned. For one thing, pigs were extinct; for another, this creature was a rubbery gray color with a longer snout than a pig was supposed to have. Before I could say anything, it pulled free from the man’s grasp and charged over to snuffle at my boots excitedly.

  “Tilly, no!” the man said, lunging forward to grab the collar again. “I apologize,” he said as he dragged the animal back into his house. “She loves people.” He grunted, pulling back on the collar as Tilly attempted to greet Shawn. “Maybe a little too much,” he added. “Please, please, come in.”

  We walked into a house very similar to the one Todd and his mom shared, except the walls were covered in maps. I turned in a slow circle, taking in the faded pieces of paper tacked to every square inch of the available space. Maps were rare in the compound and, like books, they were not something the general public was allowed to own or display. It was amazing that my dad had been able to get his hands on one of those closely guarded maps, and I wondered how he’d managed it.

  “What can I do for you?” the man asked.

  “Roderick, this is Sky and Shawn. They are just passing through on their way to Lake Michigan,” Todd said. He didn’t mention that we were from a compound, a fact I appreciated. “They were hoping you could take a look at their map.”

  Roderick’s eyes brightened with excitement. “I’d love to look at their map; just let me put Tilly outside.” He brought the snuffling animal to the door and, with a little pushing and shoving, sent her out onto the deck. “Go play!” he instructed, shooing her away from the door. “Sorry about that,” he said, turning back to us.

  “Is it rude if I ask what Tilly is?” Shawn whispered to me, and Roderick whipped his head around.

  “Of course not!” he said. Shawn jumped.

  “Roderick has killer hearing.” Todd grinned.

  “He does,” Roderick agreed. He turned to Shawn. “Tilly is one of the smaller dinosaur breeds. I believe her species eventually evolved into elephants. Or was it pigs?” He stopped a moment, thinking. “No,” he said, “definitely elephants. The irony is that elephants and pigs are now extinct, and she isn’t anymore. Funny how that happened, isn’t it?”

  “Funny,” Shawn mumbled. “Not the word I would have used.”

  “She seems nice,” I said, not wanting to be impolite.

  “Oh.” He smiled. “She’s my baby. She’s quite smart, but she hogs the bed like you wouldn’t believe.” I saw Shawn’s jaw drop, and I stifled a laugh.

  “Show him the map,” Todd said.

  “Right,” I said, and I handed Roderick the folded map. He opened it eagerly, and while he studied it, I wandered around his house, looking at the faded images of Hawaii, South America, China, and Japan. Were any humans left in these places I’d heard of but would never get to see? Sighing, I turned my attention back to Roderick’s maps, specifically the ones of the surrounding areas. Someone, presumably Roderick, had written down things like Long-necked dinosaur nesting ground, large blueberry patch, Nightmare hunting ground, and freshwater well.

  “Roderick keeps track of things for us,” Todd explained, peering over my shoulder at the map I was studying. “It helps us remember what places to avoid.”

  “How did you get all these?” I asked Roderick.

  “Hmmm?” Roderick looked up to blink at me as though he’d forgotten I was there. “Oh, my father fell into what used to be the basement of a travel agency while he was hunting. He brought back everything he could carry. I’ve had them ever since.” He pointed at my map. “This is a very good map. It’s older than mine but in better condition.” He pulled out a pen, and before I could protest, he was writing on my dad’s map.

  “Right here, here, and here,” he said, drawing wiggling lines across the tracing paper on top of the map, “are freshwater streams. And here,” he said, sketching in another long line, “is an old highway. The actual road is gone now, of course, but the larger dinosaurs use the old road networks to travel. It’s best to avoid them altogether, if you ask me.” He dabbed his pen in a bottle of ink and reached up to draw a large circle. “This is where the city of Chicago used to be. You are going to want to avoid that too.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Lots of road relics, concrete, and building ruins,” he said. “Very few places to take cover, and the larger dinosaurs roam that area a lot.” He drew a line to the right of the circle. “I would go this way. It was much less developed, with more tree cover. Although some of the larger dinosaurs still hunt in this area if the trees get thin.”

  “Thank you,” I said when Roderick handed the map back to me.

  “Happy to help.” Roderick smiled. A loud bang came from outside, and we all jumped. “That would be Tilly.” He glanced out the window to see the sun. “She thinks it’s lunchtime.” He stood up and went to the door to let the overexcited Tilly back into the house. No sooner had he turned the doorknob than Tilly was back inside and racing for a dish sitting on the floor of the tree house. Finding it empty, she turned and charged Shawn. He threw his hands up protectively, but Tilly got a few good snorts in his ear before Roderick managed to pull her off. We took that as our cue to leave.

  “This is so gross,” Shawn said as he attempted to wipe dinosaur slobber off his liberally coated neck.

  “She liked you.” Todd smiled.

  “I got the feeling that she likes everyone,” Shawn said. “Do all of you Oaks people have dinosaurs as pets?”

  “No,” Todd said as he headed back across the rope bridges and Shawn and I followed. “A few people do, though.”

  “Which one of these is the trading post?” I asked, looking around at the surrounding tree houses. The sun was creeping higher and higher overhead, and I was anxious to be on our way.

  “We can’t get to it by bridge,” Todd said over his shoulder. “We need to go to ground level.”

  “How do we do that?” I asked.

  “My house,” he said simply. Five minutes later, Todd opened up the panel in the floor of his house, and I peered down to the distant forest floor and gulped.

  “Harness?” Todd asked, offering one to Shawn and me.

  “Not you?” Shawn asked.

  “Not me,” Todd said. With the practiced ease of someone who had done this a thousand times, he wrapped the rope around his foot and, holding on with only one hand, disappeared from sight. I rushed to the edge to watch him slide down and sighed in relief when he reached the ground safely.

  “It doesn’t look that hard,” Shawn said. I groaned, already knowing what was going to happen next. He grabbed the rope and began his own descent. Emily shook her head at Shawn’s stunt and turned to me.

  “Would you like to show off how tough you are too, or do you want to use the harness?” I was about to say harness, but then stopped. Todd was right; life topside was not for the weak.

  “I think it’s time I got tough,” I said.

  “Good choice.” Emily smiled. “Please remind that rascal of a son of mine that I’ll be at the garden plot until noon.” I nodded and, taking a deep breath, grabbed the rope in both hands, and began to climb down.

  “Welcome back to terra firma,” Todd joked when I reached the ground. I brushed my sweaty hands off on my pants and glanced nervously around the forest, our near miss from the night before still fresh in my mind.

  “Is it safe to be standing here like this?”

  “Sort of.” Todd shrugged and readjusted the bone bow across his shoulders. “We have a morning patrol that makes sure the area is secure before anyone comes down.”
I relaxed a little. “Don’t do that,” he cautioned.

  I jumped. “Do what?”

  “Relax like that. Never relax.”

  “But the trees are thick here,” I said. “And you said the Nightmares only come out at night. Shawn and I were in the trees all day yesterday, and the only dinosaurs we saw were tiny.”

  “Then you were really lucky,” Todd said. “Some of the bigger dinosaur breeds will venture into thick trees if they get hungry enough. Plus, the forest is where a lot of the adolescent dinosaurs hide out until they get big enough to protect themselves. You have to stay alert. It was my dad’s number-one rule.”

  “His dad?” Shawn whispered.

  “Got eaten two years ago,” I replied quietly. Shawn winced, realizing why his comment at breakfast had gone so badly.

  “Now I feel like a jerk,” he whispered.

  “Keep up, you two,” Todd called over his shoulder.

  Five minutes later, we were standing underneath a massive oak tree. Todd walked up to a small dangling rope and gave it three hard tugs. Nothing happened. He frowned and yanked again. This time a small rope ladder was lowered.

  “Remember,” Todd cautioned as we climbed, “let me do the talking.”

  “Why isn’t the trading post connected to the rest of the village?” I asked.

  “Two reasons,” Todd said. “One, old Adler is paranoid. He is convinced everyone is out to steal from him. So he’s close enough to benefit from the Oaks’ protection, but far enough away that no one can get to his store without his knowledge.”

  “What’s reason two?” Shawn asked.

  “Oh,” Todd said. “He hates people.”

  “This just keeps getting better and better,” Shawn muttered.

  We finally reached the top of the ladder, and Todd held out a hand to help me up onto the wide wooden deck. The trading post was a small dark structure crammed floor to ceiling with mismatched plates, old pots and pans, small scraps of fabric, and the woven material I’d seen over Emily’s windows. Every available surface was covered in an assortment of jumbled, dusty items, and I recognized a few tools from my history textbook. It smelled of spices, burned wood, and something I couldn’t quite place.