by Hotter Edge
There in the middle of the charred room were two bodies charred beyond recognition.
“Your brother also?”
“Yes.”
“All dead except you?”
“All except me.”
“Good. Then no one will be coming after you.”
If only that was so. Hudson would be better off without her. They both would. Better if they would just forget about her, stay safe, and live their lives without the black cloud of destruction she seemed to bring to everyone who was unfortunate enough to love her.
But Lake knew her husband. He had followed her before—once across a desert plain, and once into the midst of an Elder’s raid. So Lake knew Hudson would come for her. He would come, or he would die trying.
Chapter Two
It was dark and hot, and Vonn’s nose itched. The back of his neck did also. He wanted to scratch, but he was afraid to move. Hudson had told him to be still. To not move at all, but that had been a while ago. It had been quiet for a long time now. Maybe it was all right to move?
Vonn shook the big shoulder that pinned him to the bottom of the wooden box they were hiding in. Nothing, just Hudson’s breath, slow and small, like little sips of water except it was air he was taking in.
Hudson’s body laid still and quiet, crushing Vonn beneath. His leg had tingled for a long time, but now it had gone all numb as if it wasn’t part of his body anymore.
“Hudson,” he shook the man he’d come to love as a father. “I think they’re gone.”
Nothing, just that same small sipping of air. It was like Hudson was asleep, but deeper, and Vonn had a feeling that if Hudson didn’t get up soon, he never would.
Should he get up? What if they were just waiting for him to come out? What if the Elders were out there waiting to kill him?
“Hudson, please wake up.” Vonn whispered, his heart fluttering like a trapped moth against a glass jar.
Was it getting hotter? He could smell smoke, but was it stronger? And that’s when he remembered the fire. Not that he had forgotten, but the Elders wouldn’t wait in a room that was on fire, no matter how slowly it burned. If they knew he was here they would’ve come for him by now.
He wiggled his body down, pushing Hudson for more room as best he could. Vonn braced his hands on the heavy trap door above them and pushed.
The panel barely lifted, but there was a crack enough for light and a little air to come through. Vonn pushed again this time using his feet to move the board sideways. Inch by inch the opening widened until finally Vonn could squeeze out. He scooted across the floor and peered out from under the bed, still scared.
The room was empty. Empty except for the long, red tongues that now danced along the ceiling beams, and the smoke that tasted like ash on his tongue.
He looked past the broken door and down the hallway. He couldn’t see it, but he knew after a sharp turn there was a straight path to the outside. He looked behind to the cut-out hole in the floor. Then back toward the door. He was fast. His father had told him he could run like a deer. Lakie said he was part fox. He could be outside faster than a rock could skip across water. But…
He crawled back to the hole in the floor.
“Hudson!” He tried to scream, but the smoky air hurt his throat. He pounded his fist on Hudson’s forehead. “Hudson!”
Vonn grabbed a fistful of Hudson’s hair and shook like he would a jar full of fireflies, but harder. Vonn would never be that rough with fireflies.
Hudson moaned.
“Come on, Hudson. Come on.” He didn’t care that he was crying. He just wanted Hudson to move.
The thump in his heart started to hurt as it beat in his throat. The gray air felt thicker than regular air and started to burn where he breathed.
Then finally… Hudson moved. Slowly one elbow then another. It took him one…no, three tries to bring his leg up. Then finally Hudson made it out and sprawled flat on the floor, but made no effort to get to his feet.
That was fine with Vonn, they could crawl. “Grab my foot. I’ll lead us out.”
It was slow. Really, really slow. There were times when Hudson lost his grip, and Vonn would have to wait for him to find his boot again, then tell him they were almost there and that he could do it. Hudson would groan, crawl a few more lengths then they’d do the same thing all over again.
Finally outside, Vonn stopped and raised his face skyward. Black storm clouds grew puffy from the trails of smoke that floated up from his home. Spits of rain found his face and the flames, by the sound of their angry hisses. He stood and tugged on Hudson’s arm. “Come on, we gotta go. Gotta try and make it to the river.”
Hudson’s head rolled like a dog’s wet, red tongue. Maybe if Hudson got some water on his face, Vonn could wash the blood away, and Hudson could see again. Maybe then he’d be better. Vonn looked around for help. There were always servants around or Hudson’s men. Always someone around to help.
For a second Vonn thought the sky had rained red. That the pools collected in the tall grasses were from special clouds that changed the color of water to pink. But that was just for a second. Just one instant for Vonn to remember he didn’t live in a childhood make-believe world anymore. No, he lived in the real-life world. One in which the fields were washed in blood and bodies were charred and black. Of horses dead and bloating and crows alive and feasting.
The real world of how he was going to get Hudson up and on his feet because they had to go after his sister. They had to go rescue her from the bad men, but Hudson had fallen again, this time face down in a puddle of red.
Chapter Three
Lake stumbled on a stone, but caught herself. She would not let them drag her. She’d walk, head high, even if that was the last thing she’d do. She’d done the death march before, nothing new here.
Of course here, her march was much less dignified. They had tied her up behind a horse and for miles she stared at the less attractive end and tried to avoid the grass ploppings as best she could.
Her bound wrists in front of her were nothing she couldn’t handle. It was the leather leash around her neck that frightened her. The slip knot hung loose when there was slack in the rope, but if she lagged behind, or fell…
She swallowed. She wouldn’t lag. Wouldn’t fall. She’d stay alive. She’d been through worse, this was nothing. Besides, they wanted her alive. Who else would fabricate their precious microbiotics if not for her? Her knowledge was what had killed her parents before, but it was that same knowledge that would keep her alive now.
She recognized the road they were taking. They were heading to Portal City, the seat of the Elders’ power and the place where the portal to Dark Planet was. Ironically, Dark Planet was where she had tried to escape to when she’d first been married to Hudson. At the time, Dark Planet was controlled by the Rebels and there had been much excitement over the Rebellion finally getting enough of a foothold to make the New Republic a reality. But the tides of power changed quickly in this desert land and no sooner had she started supplying the Rebels with the microbiotics than the Elders waged an all-out battle on the soldiers on Dark Planet and wrestled control back from the Rebellion.
The problem was that most of the male children were trained as soldiers, and their loyalty to the Elders ran deep. As they became adults, the most ruthless and cold-blooded ones flourished under Elder law, and that’s how battles were won. The strongest always ended up on top.
The thought of children had her throat tightening which had nothing to do with the strap of leather around her neck. Her thoughts immediately went to her unborn child still safely concealed by the flatness of her stomach. She remembered the joy on Hudson’s face when she’d told him about their child. She remembered how she’d used the excuse of her pregnancy to fall into the bad habit of sleeping in during the mornings, and how Hudson had fallen into the bad habit of letting her.
Sometimes, he would wake her with breakfast in bed—toast with fruit, weak tea, and milk, always milk. He’d
said it would help make the baby strong. He’d said a lot of things in the few months they’d been married. He had told her he loved her. Had called her his Little Dove.
Had they survived? Were Hudson and Vonn still alive?
Lake closed her eyes for a brief moment then quickly opened them preferring to see the harsh realities of the real world than think about the last of her family hiding away under flames that burned everything to black.
Two men rode up beside her, dark hoods thrown off, faces still young and unlined by the years.
One turned and spat on her. “Rebel whore.”
The other laughed.
“Do Rebel whores scream like regular whores when they get poked from behind?”
She turned a haughty look his way. “If you are asking if I’ll scream like every other woman who gets a look at your non-existent pecker, then yes.”
The bark of laughter from his friend didn’t help her any.
She anticipated the kick from the boot and stepped back, but the leash prevented her from moving enough and his boot still caught her lip. Warmth tickled her chin, but she refused to wipe the blood away. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.
“I’m watching you, whore. At camp tonight, know that I’ll be coming for you.”
She swallowed. She wasn’t afraid of some angry boy still high from his first battle. She knew she was too valuable to be abused, but she hadn’t realized that they were taking her to the training camps inside Portal City or as some called them, the “killing fields”. The camps were where young boys were trained as soldiers and sent to Dark Planet to fight off the aliens that had invaded and caused the Global War—the war that had devastated earth and killed off billions of people. She had no idea what the world was like before the invasion, but she’d heard that society had been different. Safer, more women, more children.
Security in the training camps was tight. Had to be to keep the boys from escaping. She’d never even been past the barbed wire fences that surrounded the tents herself, but heard the methods that were used to turn the boys into hardened warriors were harsh. That was why she had become a Rebel in the first place. She had wanted to spare Vonn the life of a soldier. She had wanted to fight the system that would turn a kind-hearted boy into a cold, killing machine. But within the last six months the Rebellion had all but died off. Sure, there were still pockets of the Resistance left. Still believers in a prophesy about a leader who would bring about the New Republic. But that’s all it was— talk.
She no longer trusted in men, in politics, in prophesies. She trusted in Hudson.
Trust me, Lake. I will get you back.
Lake didn’t trust easily, never had, and with Hudson it hadn’t been any different. It had taken a long time, even after The Marking, the tattooing of his name on her back, for him to win her over. But when Hudson had tattooed her name over his heart, something in her took root. A hardy kernel of a seed drilled down deep into her heart—hope. How hope had taken root in a soul as barren and as arid as hers, she’d never know? But it had.
Don’t give up. Don’t give up on us.
Isn’t that what Hudson had said? How, after everything he’d done for her, could she doubt him already?
Just then Lake rounded the bend of the mountain path and looked down into the valley of Portal city below. Even in the distance she could make out the training camps with their barbed-wire and tower lookouts. She could see the guard stations, and knew without a doubt that armed men were posted inside each one.
Her heart sank.
There was no way Hudson could come for her. No way one man could steal into the camp and leave with a woman by his side. Not with both their lives intact.
Lake stumbled, not caring that the leash snapped tight around her throat. She’d been alone before. Made it through prison on her own. But she’d never been this desperate, pregnant with Hudson’s baby, and the only Rebel sheep among dozens of Elder wolves.
Chapter Four
Hot. Hot. He was burning, trapped under the bed as his house burned down around him. He couldn’t move. His arms were pinned to his sides. No wait, he could move, but something was wrong with his arms. They were so heavy and it took so much effort.
“Shh shh.” Someone took his hand and lowered it to his side. “Here. Drink.”
His head was lifted and cool water wetted his lips. He wanted more, but his head was lowered, and Hudson couldn’t summon the strength to lift it on his own.
Slowly awareness trickled in as if filtered through a dirty, glass pane. He was lying motionless, but somehow still moving. There was a bandage around his head. His ear felt as if a raccoon had gnawed it off. His body hollowed from the inside out.
Tired. He’d never been this tired in his life. All he wanted was to fall back into nothingness, but there was something he had to do. Something was driving at him like a whip on a slave’s back. He had to get up.
But first things first, he needed to open his eyes. He squinted trying to make sense of the fuzzy black and white images that filtered in. He blinked a few times and the fuzziness went away, but not the black and white.
“You’re awake.”
A soft voice floated to his ears and a pretty face hovered above him. Her hair was a shade of dark gray, her face a pale white and lips a light black.
Panic sped up the beat of his heart, and the need to move had him flailing about.
“You’re all right. Calm down, you’ll hurt yourself,” said the woman hovering above him. Something or someone restrained his arms, but he didn’t feel like anyone was trying to hurt him.
“I...I...” It hurt to talk, but the pressure building in his chest was worse than the scratch at his throat. “I can’t see.”
No, that wasn’t quite right. Technically he could see, just not in any color. Everything was in black and white and various shades of grey. No blues, no reds, no browns. Wait, maybe there was brown, it was hard to tell.
He pushed himself to sitting, fear making him strong. “What happened? Where am I?”
“Can you see me?” the woman asked, her brow crinkled in concern. “Can you see this?”
She waved her hand in front of him. He swatted it out of the way, already annoyed. He didn’t want to explain—he could see her hand well enough, just not the way a hand was supposed to look.
“Oh,” she smiled. “You can see just fine. You had me scared. It took so much out of me just to get your ear reattached. I don’t think I could do anything more for you if you’d lost your sight.”
He reached up and touched his ear. The whole side of his head was wrapped in a bandage. He couldn’t tell if he had an ear or if his entire skull was even intact—it all just felt like one big mass of singed flesh.
“It’s there all right.” She made a gesture to her own ear. “I made sure before I wrapped you.”
It was hard looking at someone who was completely gray.
“How?” There were hardly any medical services available, and what remained came through the Elders and their limited supply of microbiotics—something he would never be privy to.
She wringed her fingers and gave him another white and grey smile. “Me. I am a healer. When I hum, I see rainbows and the colors help…well, it doesn’t matter.” She shook her head. “I’m just learning, but sometimes, if I really, really want to, I can heal obvious injuries. And yours was pretty obvious. It took me all night and most of the next day to heal you, but I didn’t mind.”
She blushed or at least she looked like she did since her cheeks darkened. A wave of blackness fell over his vision, and for a moment he thought he'd lost his sight altogether, but when he laid down flat the black wave receded. His burst of anger had exhausted him, and he could barely keep his eyes open. “Where am I?”
“On my father’s wagon. We found you and the boy by the river. You both were in bad shape so my father loaded you up on the back, and I've been trying my best to heal you.”
Her voice seemed far away like it was coming from a
deep pit or muffled underwater. There was a boy? But he didn’t want her to know he had no idea what she was talking about. “What about the boy?”
A cool hand touched his forehead. It felt like heaven. Soft and soothing. It was exactly what he needed to push him the last bit under, but not before he heard her answer. “He's safe. Don't worry.”
There was something else. Something he had to do. So important.
“Just sleep.”
But he couldn't remember, and so he fell back under and let the wave take him.
Chapter Five
Lake sat down at her work table and picked up a dried, gray-white shell of the Mercenaria clam that was harvested in the sandy bottoms of the bay. It had taken some time to realize that the microbiotics needed the natural inhibitor of the clam shell to help slow the rate of absorption into the blood stream, thus reducing the chance of bursting capillaries.
When she’d first been brought to Syon’s house, she’d almost fainted from relief to find that she wouldn’t be staying inside the actual camps. Instead, Syon brought her to a house that had her believing the stories about pre-Global War mansions, which was set just outside the fences. She was still under heavy Elder patrol, but at least she wasn’t behind barbed-wire.
Despite herself, despite her best efforts and every logical thought, selfish hope bloomed in her chest. If she were outside the camp, then maybe, maybe Hudson could get to her. Maybe, if he still wanted to, if he thought she was worth it, he would come for her.
When she’d first been brought down to Syon’s cellar and ordered to make him the microbiotics, she’d racked her brain for ways to sabotage the drug. She may’ve given up actively fighting for the Rebellion when it went deep underground, but she was still a Rebel at heart. There was no way she’d willingly give the microbiotics to Syon. His power would know no bounds.
But during her experiments, she realized she wouldn't have to fake the process. The warm water clams, long believed to have aphrodisiac properties, didn't work the same way the clams she’d harvested from Black Creek did.
