The Ark Plan

by Laura Martin

  “You aren’t going to help me get my mom and the rest of the Oaks back?” Todd asked.

  “I will,” Ivan said. “But not until after we have delivered Jack’s plug.” Todd sagged in disappointment. I thought over what he’d just said again. Protectors. He was acting like I was this helpless little girl getting taken care of by Shawn and Todd. If anything, the opposite was true—at least for Shawn.

  “I have a backbone,” I snapped, glaring at Ivan. “And before you ask if I have guts, I have those too.”

  “Very good,” Ivan said, nodding approvingly. “Compound life can make you soft and dependent. It’s good to see you’re neither of those things.” He seemed amused rather than offended, his blue eyes sparkling with humor. I had a feeling I’d just been tested. “Back to Jack’s plug,” he went on, his face serious again. “I’m worried. Your father, despite his numerous faults, loved you. He would never have put you in danger. I’m anxious to find out what is on that plug that was worth risking your life for.”

  “Do you think my dad might be at Lake Michigan?” I asked hopefully.

  “No,” Ivan said, shaking his head. “My best guess is that your father’s dead.” His words fell like lead weights into my stomach, and I felt myself visibly sag in despair. When he saw my expression, he raised an eyebrow. “Don’t look so defeated, child. It is only a guess. If you want to keep your hope alive, don’t let me take it away from you.”

  “Do you know what’s in the middle of Lake Michigan?” Shawn asked.

  “I can only assume one of the surviving members of the Colombe,” Ivan said. “But we won’t know until we get there, will we.”

  “How soon do we leave?” I asked, anxious impatience shooting through my nerves again.

  “This afternoon,” Ivan said. “I want to work on your shooting skills first.”

  “I taught her the basics yesterday,” Todd said. “And she hit that Croc Killer dead in the eye.”

  “She needs more than the basics,” Ivan said, “and I would like to work on your shooting skills as well.”

  “Mine?” Todd said. “Why?”

  “You were a decent shot yesterday, but you could be better. You only hit two of the four dinosaurs you were shooting at.”

  “They were moving,” Todd objected. “It wasn’t exactly an easy shot.”

  Ivan raised an eyebrow. “They will always be moving.” I covered my mouth to hide a smile as Todd frowned and stared down moodily at his plate. Ivan sure was good at putting people in their place. Todd had been so confident in his shooting skills from the moment we met him. Now he was being told that they needed some work. I had a feeling his ego was more than a little bruised.

  “I wasn’t shooting with my bow,” Todd muttered. “I’m a better shot with mine, but it busted when it fell out of the tree.”

  “I can fix that,” Ivan said, and he pushed himself away from the table and stomped across the length of the skyscraper to a back corner. Moments later he was back, a bow almost identical to the one Todd had lost held in his hand. “Stand up,” he said, and when Todd did, he held the bow up to him, squinting with one eye. “It’ll work,” he said. “It’s a tad large for you, but you’ll grow into it.”

  “This looks exactly like my dad’s,” Todd said, running an appreciative hand down its gleaming length.

  “It should,” Ivan grunted. “I made it from the ribs of the same beastie.”

  “I didn’t know you made my dad’s bow,” Todd said, and I thought I saw tears shining in his eyes for a moment before he looked down and ran a hand roughly across his face. “Thanks,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  “You’re welcome,” Ivan said, clapping him on the shoulder. He turned to us. “Don’t just stand there staring; go grab your bows and packs. We won’t be coming back here.” We did, and I helped him to unhinge the heavy metal plate. He jumped down the ten-foot gap to land on the dilapidated escalator in a crouch, bow drawn. He scanned the room below, and then motioned for us to follow him. Moments later we were in the sunlight.

  Ivan headed for the woods at a brisk trot. He never looked back, and he never said a word. After I shared a “here we go again” look with Shawn, we followed. Ivan was quick, zigzagging through the woods with a grace and stealth I wouldn’t have thought possible at his age. When he finally stopped thirty minutes later, it was in a small meadow surrounded by thick trees. Shawn and I were breathing hard and even Todd looked a little winded. Ivan didn’t look like he’d been running.

  “First things first,” he said, “you never carry your arrows at the center of your back; too hard to reach.” He adjusted my quiver so the opening sat at my left shoulder. “I saw you drop your arrows yesterday,” Ivan admonished, and my face heated in embarrassment. How had he had time to study me while simultaneously killing a pack of rampaging dinosaurs?

  “I was scared,” I said, and even to my own ears I sounded pathetic.

  “Learn to function scared,” Ivan instructed. “I want you to shut your eyes and practice grabbing arrows.”

  “That’s it?” I asked. “Just grabbing them?”

  “Grab one, notch it, draw, and then do it again, until you could do it in your sleep,” Ivan said. “I’ll let you know when to stop.” So I did. Ivan spent the next three hours working with each of us in turn. First with the bows, and then when he saw that our arms were getting tired, he switched to knife throwing. I was surprisingly good at it, better even than Todd, a fact I could tell bugged him. I was wondering how I was going to hack an entire day of hiking after all of this training when Ivan finally held up a hand to signal we were done. I let my arm drop, sending a ripple of pain through my exhausted muscles. Despite the throbbing ache, I was excited. For the first time since coming topside, I felt like I might have a chance if I was attacked by a dinosaur.

  “That’s enough for now,” Ivan said. “We need to get going. From the way you and Shawn were huffing and puffing, it may take us longer to get to the lake than I originally thought.” He froze then, his head cocked to the side, listening. I froze too, but all I could hear was the tittering of birds and the low buzz of insects. My skin prickled as goose bumps broke out on my skin.

  “What is it?” Shawn whispered, but Ivan held up a hand to silence him. I strained my ears, and I heard it: footsteps. A moment later, the world erupted in noise and gunfire as the ground around our feet was peppered with bullets. They seemed to be coming from every direction as dirt shot up and hit our shins and legs. I shrieked, throwing my hands up to protect my face and head. Ivan and Todd dove behind a nearby outcropping of rocks, but I stood frozen in panic for a half second longer before I shoved my terror aside, grabbed a petrified Shawn, and followed. I hit the hard-packed dirt with a painful thump that knocked the wind out of me. I wheezed, trying to force air back into stubborn lungs as my brain fought to process what was happening. Guns could mean only one thing. Had we really been tracked again? Shawn pounded me on the back until I took a few gasping breaths. With air in my lungs again, I maneuvered myself carefully next to Shawn. The rock we crouched behind would have fit two of us comfortably; four was tight. Ivan had the big black gun I’d seen earlier in his hands.

  “You’ve been followed,” Ivan growled. “I should have heard the buggers. Getting old. Hearing isn’t what it once was. We were sitting ducks waiting for them to take some target practice on us.” He glanced over at us, concern in his bright eyes. “None of you were hit, were you?” We shook our heads, staying low as bullets continued to ricochet off the rocks. My mind flashed back to when the marines had shown up at the Oaks. This was what the villagers had felt like, trapped in the trees, outgunned and outmatched. And just like the people of the Oaks, I didn’t see any way out. I swallowed hard. We would have heard a plane or a helicopter, which meant we’d been followed on foot. The thought had me scanning the thick woods behind us, worried that a marine in body armor was about to emerge any second.

  “Bows up,” Ivan said, jerking his head at the trees as though he’d
read my mind. “If you see movement of any kind, shoot first and ask questions later.” A cold trickle of sweat ran into my eyes, but I didn’t take my hand off my bow to wipe it away.

  “You aren’t using your bow?” Shawn asked, his voice shrill. His shoulder was pressed against mine, and I could feel him trembling. Although it might have been me. It was hard to tell. Shawn leaned forward and got a look at Ivan’s gun for the first time, and his eyes went wide.

  “I only use bows on innocent beasts,” Ivan said. “It puts us on even footing.” He popped his head above the rock for a second to look, quickly ducking back down as another flurry of bullets pinged off the hard stone. He glanced over at Shawn. “With humans, I use bullets.”

  “They have body armor,” Todd said, his face strained as he scanned the woods. “They were wearing it when they attacked the Oaks. Our arrows won’t penetrate it.”

  “That’s nice,” Ivan said. “I have a .458 Winchester Magnum.”

  “What’s the plan?” Shawn whispered.

  “You need to get to the lake,” Ivan said, his words rushed and clipped. “I will do my best to deal with this lot, and I’ll catch up with you as soon as I can.”

  “But, Ivan,” I protested, letting go of my bow to clutch at his arm. “You’ll never survive this alone. There has to be twenty of them. Come with us. We can outrun them.”

  “Twenty,” snorted Ivan. “They should have sent fifty.”

  “It’s too dangerous,” I objected, but Ivan just shook his head at me.

  “Don’t worry, granddaughter. I didn’t find you just to lose you again. Get to the lake as quickly as you can.” He looked at Shawn and Todd. “You keep her safe, or I will skin both of you and use your sorry hides as a rug.” Ivan turned back to me. “Look out for those two knuckleheads. You have more brains in your pinkie finger than either of them combined. Wait for me to distract the marines and then run.” And before I could protest, Ivan pressed a whiskery kiss to my forehead and rolled out from behind the rock and into the woods, heading swiftly toward the sounds of men’s voices and gunfire.

  “Sky, which way are we running? Which way is north?” Shawn asked, his voice high and panicked, and I ripped my gaze away from the spot where Ivan had disappeared to look at Shawn’s dirty sweat-streaked face.

  “We can’t just leave Ivan to do this alone,” I cried.

  “We have to,” Todd said. “And don’t worry, if anyone can survive this, it’s Ivan. That guy’s a living legend.”

  I pulled out my compass and found north, but instead of tucking it back inside my shirt, I held it for a second. The warm metal pressed into my palm, and I wondered what would happen if I just ran out into the open and gave it to the marines. Would it save my friends from being killed? My dad had asked me to risk everything to deliver the plug to Lake Michigan, but was it really worth dying for? I wasn’t so sure anymore. Just then, a loud bellow came from behind us, followed by a man’s terrified scream and gunfire.

  “Go,” Todd cried, and we scrambled to our feet, careful to stay low to the ground as we sprinted into the woods.

  The woods were eerily quiet, the sounds of the gunfire quickly muffled by the thick trees that surrounded us. Tree branches whipped past us as we ran with nothing but the sound of our footsteps and labored breathing thrumming in our ears. I was in the lead, with Todd running behind me on my right and Shawn on my left.

  I wondered if Ivan was still alive. I hoped so, but I was worried. We had no idea how many marines were hiding in those woods with weapons, and he was just a little old man with only one arm to work with. Not that any of those factors seemed to slow him down in the slightest, but I still couldn’t shake the sick feeling of dread in my stomach.

  As we ran, a prickly wariness started poking at the edge of my consciousness. Something felt off, and I wasn’t sure what it could be. A quick scan of the woods didn’t do anything to ease the feeling. They were too silent. Too still. I skidded to a stop, my bow drawn. Todd and Shawn ran on a few more steps before they realized I was no longer with them. They both turned to face me, questions on their lips, but I held up a hand to stop them.

  “Something’s wrong,” I whispered. “Listen.”

  “I don’t hear anything,” Shawn said.

  “I know.” I frowned. “That’s the problem. The birds aren’t singing; the bugs aren’t chattering. Why?”

  The hairs on the back of my neck went up, and I strained my ears for a sound as my heart thudded in my chest.

  The bullet buzzed so close to my ear that at first I thought it was a mosquito or a bee until it thumped into the tree behind me, sending a spray of splintered wood over my shoulders and head.

  “Get down,” Todd yelled, diving to the ground. I spun behind the tree that had taken the bullet meant for me. More bullets pelted the ground and the surrounding trees for another few seconds and then stopped.

  “Sky Mundy, I know you’re there,” General Kennedy called out. I sucked in a breath as fear, hard and hot, burned in my chest. “Come out, and I won’t shoot your little friend Shawn.” Peeking around the tree, I saw Kennedy standing fifteen feet away, a gun trained on my best friend. Shawn glanced my way and shook his head ever so slightly, his eyes panicked and pleading. I ducked back behind the tree and squeezed my eyes shut for a second, willing myself to think. There had to be a way out of this. I looked around for Todd, but he must have hidden farther into the woods. I prayed he hadn’t been shot.

  “I’m not a patient person, Sky,” Kennedy warned. “One. Two.”

  I threw myself out from behind the tree before he could make it to three, my hands in the air. “Don’t shoot him,” I said. “Please don’t shoot.”

  “Very good, Sky,” Kennedy said, turning to face me, his gun still pointed at Shawn. “Now hand over the plug.”

  “What’s on it?” I asked. “Why does the Noah want it so badly?” Kennedy stared at me a second in shock, and then he burst out laughing. But his laugh wasn’t genuine; it had a hard, angry edge to it that frightened me almost as much as the gun he clutched in his hand.

  “You mean to tell me,” Kennedy gasped, “that we’ve been tromping through these dinosaur-infested woods, chasing a little girl who doesn’t even know what she’s carrying?” He broke into another peal of laughter. I didn’t say anything. I was calculating in my head just how far it was from me to Kennedy. Was I fast enough to get my bow up to shoot him? And what if I missed? Could he get a shot off at Shawn before my arrow reached him?

  “Why are you chasing me?” I asked, desperate for more time to think.

  “We shouldn’t be,” Kennedy said, anger dripping off every word. “I’ve lost three good men trying to bring you to justice. Men I grew up with and trained with lost their lives for a girl that we should have killed five years ago. The Noah was too kind, granting you a pardon due to your age. He didn’t think a child presented a danger, especially if we kept you under the strictest of surveillance.” He shook his head. “Wasting precious resources to search the room and port screen data of an orphan girl who was nothing but a burden on our society. And how do you repay his kindness? By stealing vital compound supplies to take your father’s secrets to the very people who could undo the Noah’s entire plan.”

  “What plan?” I asked.

  “I am out of patience,” Kennedy said. “Hand it over, or Shawn dies and then you do. I have no problem taking the plug off of your corpse. I would have shot you already if I wasn’t worried about accidentally hitting the plug.”

  “How do I know you won’t shoot him as soon as I give it you?” I asked. I didn’t look at Shawn. I couldn’t. If I saw the fear on his face, my own terror would overwhelm me. Every muscle in my body was tense, and I worried I might snap from the pressure.

  “Don’t do it,” Todd said, stepping out from the woods, his bow trained on Kennedy. “Your dad wouldn’t want you to hand it over.”

  Kennedy sneered at Todd’s bow. “That bow doesn’t scare me, boy. Put it down before you hur
t yourself.”

  “My dad would say to save Shawn,” I said, not taking my eyes off the gun in Kennedy’s hand.

  “Dead men don’t say much, last time I checked,” Kennedy drawled, a smirk on his face that made my blood run cold.

  “What did you just say?” I asked, feeling like I’d been punched.

  “Don’t worry.” Kennedy smiled. “Your father will never know that you were a failure. Just like him.”

  “You killed him?” I asked. “He’s dead?” It couldn’t be true. I’d have known if he’d been dead all this time. I would have felt it. Wouldn’t I?

  “We found him a day’s travel from the compound,” Kennedy sneered. “He didn’t know that we’d implanted tracker chips into all of our high-risk technology specialists.” Kennedy smirked at Shawn.

  “You’re a liar,” I said, my fists clenched. “If my father was dead, you would have broadcast it across the entire compound.”

  “I’m a liar, am I?” Kennedy said. “Maybe I just have to show you that I mean what I say.” He turned back to Shawn, aiming the gun right between his eyes.

  “Don’t give him the plug,” Shawn said through gritted teeth. “You can’t trust one word he says.”

  “She’ll do what I say,” Kennedy said, enjoying the moment and my pain. “She wants to save your sorry life, just like her father thought that he could save hers by leaving her behind. Had we known that the plug we pried out of his cold dead hand wasn’t the only one, she wouldn’t have been treated so kindly.”

  “Kindly?” I spat, anger overcoming the fear and making my entire body hot. “You call how I was treated for the last five years kind? You made everyone in that compound hate me. I was seven. Seven! You assigned me work detail after work detail. I would have gone insane if it wasn’t for Shawn.”

  “That Shawn,” Kennedy said, shaking his head slowly. “Quite the friend you have. It’s going to be a shame when he gets killed because you wouldn’t hand over the plug. A plug you don’t even know the value of.”