I hope they’re shivering in their perfect boots up there, thought Cora bitterly. She actually shivered from a gust of wind and retreated back into the house. It was just as cold inside, so she grabbed a few blankets from the corner (mites did not often visit Shyla’s home so her blankets lasted much longer) and threw one over both Shyla and Lyle. She kept the last one for herself and wrapped it around her shoulders. She was far from tired, but somehow watching the others sleep caused her to fade off into a deep slumber as well.
When she awoke, her eyes instantly started to sting. She scrambled away from the shaft of sunlight pouring in through the hole and retreated into the dark corner of the room, frightened by the rude awakening. In her struggle, she knocked over the fire pit, sending cinders all over the floor.
The chaos roused both Shyla and Lyle from their sleep and they jumped to their feet, looking ready for a fight. Chances are, if something woke you while you were sleeping, it was nothing good and you would have to deal with it. When they saw Cora hiding blindly in the corner, their survival instincts died away.
‘My eyes are getting worse!’ said Cora, panicked. She kept her hands over her face, even when the sun couldn’t reach her. ‘I’m going blind!’
‘It’s okay, Cora. It’s okay.’ Shyla patted her friend’s shoulder in comfort and shot Lyle a worried look that was not meant for Cora to see. ‘You’ll be all right if you stay out of the light.’
Only … Cora couldn’t stay out of the light, not if she wanted to survive. She still needed to make some trades with the vendors. Her water-catcher was broken and she needed to find some sort of material to mend it with. Then she had to track down someone willing to trade a burrower for sun-dimmers. They were like glasses, but instead of allowing you to see more clearly, they muted the light. Cora had a pair a few years ago, but they had gotten broken during a raid. Broken sun-dimmers were not useful and definitely not worth anything to traders.
‘What’s that noise?’ murmured Lyle, turning his head towards the hole in the wall.
Cora listened but could hear nothing. Shyla left her and wandered through the gap outside. She returned a few moments later in a hurry.
‘Utopians,’ she hissed, crouching low to the floor.
Cora tried to look through the hole, as well, but was met with blotches of red and black. She retreated away and pulled up her hood, trying desperately to rid her sight of the burning colours. She could hear the flying machines now, whizzing by overhead. Their ships hummed like night bugs.
They waited inside the house until everything grew quiet again, and then Lyle peeked outside to take a quick look at the village.
‘They’re gone,’ he said flatly.
‘They must have been just passing through,’ added Shyla.
‘I hate this …’ was all Cora said.
The three collected the leftover burrowers and wrapped them up in a blanket to carry. It was time to secure some goods from the traders and figure out what their stock was going to look like during the cold season. Last year had been tough, filled with nights so bitter that Cora thought she would freeze to death. Although there were no crawly creatures to contend with, there were certainly other things that wanted you dead.
The traders usually hung around the shadowy parts of the village, where the sun could not touch them and the wind could not toss their wares around. No one minded where they decided to peddle their foreign goods, because without them everyone would either go hungry or cold or both. Cora felt like she was a huge contributor to the traders sometimes. Her kills often went straight to them to bargain for other valuable things. Then those kills went to a villager that no doubt despised her Utopian blood, though they gobbled down the meat thankfully enough.
Rorian was the trader that offered the most for what you gave him, and that was who the three friends went to straight away. Today, however, he seemed a bit putout. His ratty hat and long scarf were no longer worse for wear than he was. Traders roamed around a great deal and so they developed various strains of The Death Mark. Rorian was caked in the sickness, having bumpy skin, red eyes, a limp leg, and no hair.
‘Ah, if it isn’t my favourite customer,’ he croaked when he saw Cora coming around the turn. She pulled down her hood once she was out of the reach of the sun. ‘Welcome, welcome! Have any nice finds for me today?’
The other traders eyed the sack Lyle carried with great interest and envy. They knew – if Rorian played himself right – the loot would go to him.
‘We do,’ answered Cora. She reached down into the sack and pulled up the plumpest burrower to wiggle in front of Rorian’s face. ‘How is this for a nice find?’
When the trader reached out to touch the burrower, Cora drew it away. Even if Rorian was her favourite trader, she trusted none of them and would not let him handle any meat before the trade.
‘It is, it is,’ agreed Rorian, mumbling to himself. ‘How about a nice quilt for that burrower? I saw you eyeing them last time.’ He pointed to the stack of grey squares behind him. ‘Deal?’
‘Deal,’ agreed Cora. The quilt was going straight into the metal box when she returned home. ‘Although, I have more to trade. I need something to fix my water-catcher. It has cracks.’
Rorian felt around his coat pockets for a few moments before pulling out a metal tin. He popped open the cover and showed it to her. ‘Candle wax. You spread some of that in the cracks and no water will drip through.’
‘How much?’
‘Two burrowers.’
‘No deal.’ Cora moved towards the other hopeful traders, as she usually did when Rorian offered her a terrible deal, and the older man was already protesting.
‘Fine, fine! One burrower.’ He grumbled as they made the exchange. ‘What else do you want?’ he snapped.
‘Do you have any sun-dimmers?’ she asked, glancing behind the trader. She didn’t see any but they might have been stuffed in Rorian’s pockets.
The old trader shook his head. ‘Haven’t seen a pair since the one I sold you. Sorry.’
Cora sighed and looked to Shyla and Lyle. Her burrowers had been traded and she really shouldn’t have asked for anything more, but it didn’t look like her friends minded much. Shyla ended up trading her meat for a pair of gloves and fragranced soap (which hardly anyone bought because of the lack of water), and Lyle traded both of his burrowers for a pair of fur boots.
‘What’s this?’ Cora stooped down towards the blanket covered in goods and pushed aside a few metal containers to discover a strange, circular object. When she picked it up, the pointer inside spun towards the side.
‘Ah, that’s rubbish,’ grumbled Rorian. He muttered something under his breath before saying, ‘Go ahead and take it.’
Cora looked up in surprise. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yeah …’ Rorian eyed the object distastefully. ‘I’ve had it lying around for a good six years or so. It never sells. It’s broken – see how the pointer moves!’ Cora did see, but didn’t have enough knowledge about the thing to know if it was supposed to do that or not. ‘Take it. It’s yours.’
‘Thank you.’ Cora slipped the object into the pocket of her jacket. ‘We’ll be back in a few days.’
Rorian grunted in reply and the three left the traders. They did not get very far when they had to stop again, this time by impulse.
A few Utopians were standing by the alley entrance, all dressed up in their protective, white suits. They were raiders, though only a few of them were present.
Stay calm, Cora thought to herself. Yet the raiders were headed straight to the back alley where the traders were stationed – where she and her friends were standing. Though, the Utopians passed them by without a single glance and the three were left breathless by the encounter, too terrified to move.
‘What do they want?’ whispered Shyla, looking slowly and cautiously over her shoulder. Cora did the same.
‘Trouble,’ replied Lyle with a low snarl.
It was a good thing they had finished their
trading before the Utopians arrived, because soon after they entered the alley, loud bangs followed. Cora felt her quilt slip from her hands and she bolted towards cover. Her friends did the same, though their goods were already safely worn or stuffed in their pockets and did not end up lying helplessly in the open for anyone to steal.
Rorian fell first, tumbling over his wares in a puddle of blood. The other traders tried to run, but the weapons of the raiders were advanced and could shoot from a far distance. The alley became a place of death and Cora soon forgot to breathe.
The Utopians collected the weapons and wares of the traders and piled them into a box they had brought with them. Then they left the alley behind, passing by the mutants like they had done before, not bothering to acknowledge their presence. Cora felt a wave of relief rush over her. Moments before, they could have been the ones being killed, but somehow – by luck alone – they had not been in the alleyway.
Then Cora’s relief came crashing back down.
‘Lyle, no!’
Shyla’s voice was shrill and pleading, and by the time Cora acknowledged what was going on, Lyle had jumped out of hiding. He leapt up onto the back of one of the raiders and wrapped his legs around him, crushing the Utopian. Another sky-dweller had his weapon drawn, pointing it at the two strugglers, though he could not get a clear shot.
Cora felt her heart in her ears for the third time today, and she withdrew the knife at her belt, the one she had forgot to leave at Shyla’s home. The other girl was shaking her head, tears in her ears, but Cora knew if she did nothing, the raiders would easily kill her friend.
‘Damn mutants!’ shouted one raider, shooting at the ground near his companion’s feet. It startled Lyle, but not enough to him to release his grip on his prey. A moment later, Cora heard something snap and the Utopian cried out in pain.
Now was her chance. Using the brief distraction, she snuck up around one of the raiders and swung her knife out at his neck. The blade pierced through the fabric of his suit and tasted blood.
He collapsed to the ground, dead.
The others were getting anxious now. Only two remained standing, though one was carrying the box and could do nothing to help. He swore nervously and dropped the crate, causing the woman raider to cry after him in a panicked voice.
Another crack from Lyle’s victim sent her running, too.
‘Get away from him, Lyle!’ begged Shyla, staying back from the violent mess the others had created.
He eventually listened to her and let the Utopian go, although the man’s suit had already been torn in some places and he was now condemned to live on Earth. This realization sent him into a fit of sobbing and he gradually crawled away. Cora never saw him again.
‘Are you both insane!’ shouted Shyla, tears clinging to her eyelashes. ‘You just murdered two Utopians!’
‘It isn’t like they don’t murder us!’ Lyle rejoined. He spat at the ground.
‘What were you thinking?’ Shyla’s hands were shaking, and the quilt Cora had dropped earlier was huddled against her chest.
‘I was thinking, “Raiders just murdered our only chance of surviving this cold season”,’ snapped Lyle. His back was as straight as it had ever been, a sign that he was clearly very angry. ‘What was I supposed to do? Ignore them?’
‘Yes,’ said Shyla softly. ‘Yes, that is exactly what you should have done.’
Lyle turned to Cora, his face full of rage. ‘Are you listening to this? What would you have done?’
Cora didn’t answer. What Lyle had done was risky and they would probably suffer for it later, but it also did not feel wrong. Cora had been completely calm while taking down the raider, which slightly unnerved her, but there was something else about the encounter that made her think. Today they had gotten a taste of what victory felt like … and it tasted very sweet.
‘She isn’t going to say because she thinks I’m right!’ yelled Shyla. She tossed the quilt at Lyle’s face and he awkwardly caught it. ‘You attacked that man for your own selfish desires and nothing else!’
‘He wasn’t a man – he was a monster!’
‘No more monster than we are to them!’
Cora pushed her hands against her ears and waited for them to yell it out. There was no point in interfering. One of them would storm away after a while, and the other would rant to her for a few hours before eventually apologizing. She had seen it before. Their pointless arguments never lasted long.
‘That’s it!’ Shyla had tears in her eyes again. She drew in a deep breath. ‘I’m going to the colonies.’
‘What?’ Lyle had stopped yelling and Cora moved her hands away from her ears.
‘I have had enough of sitting around, fearing the Utopians and their flying ships for too long.’ Shyla wiped her wet eyes in her sleeve. ‘I’m going to the underground colonies.’
‘You don’t even know if it’s real!’ protested Lyle. He sighed. ‘I’m sorry, all right. I shouldn’t have jumped on that raider. Now can you –’
‘No!’ Shyla was defiant. She walked around Cora and Lyle, keeping her distance. ‘I’m going home … and I’m packing … and then I’m heading out there –’ she pointed towards the barren desert ‘– to find somewhere safe to live.’
‘You’re just going to find sharp-tooths out there. Please, listen to reason, Shyla,’ said Cora, trying to ease her friend’s mind.
‘Better the sharp-tooths than the Utopians and their experiments!’
Lyle flinched from that comment and turned away from the girl. Cora became angry.
‘Was there really any need of that?’ she snapped. ‘Shyla, you’re going too far with this. Just calm down and think about what you’re doing!’
‘I have thought about it, and I’m leaving,’ said Shyla, and with that she took off towards her house, mind set on her new mission.
Cora sighed angrily and ran her hands through her hair. Lyle remained quiet, looking half ready to either cry or express his rage like Cora. He eventually bent down towards the ground and started collecting the items dropped by the raiders and placing them back in the box. Cora helped him, too frustrated to speak, and they managed to secure every belonging of the traders. No one was bold enough to venture out into the open after what had happened, anyway, and they were probably just as frightened to touch the wares. The raiders would be back. That much was true. But Cora wondered what the Utopians would decide to do to their village after losing two of their own and gaining nothing by it.
We have won a battle in their eyes, she thought sullenly. They will strike us back.
Cora helped Lyle carry the box back to his house. The hollowed statue was much too tiny to fit all of the items inside, so they would have to store the belongings in Lyle’s living quarters. They had no fear of anyone coming to steal it, since the wares were branded “Utopian wares” now.
They sorted through the box, taking back the burrowers they had traded to Rorian. As hard as she tried, Cora could not feel sorry for Rorian. While you lived you struggled and fought to survive, but once you passed into death, there was no reason to feel saddened by it. Rorian was most certainly in a better place right now.
‘This is nice,’ murmured Lyle, still a little angry from before. He held a rusted locket in his hands. The clasp looked corroded shut, though a little tinkering could definitely fix it.
‘Shyla would like it,’ said Cora, feeling a pang of worry. Will Shyla really leave us?
Lyle slipped the necklace into his pocket and continued digging through the items. Cora had already found a pair of fur gloves, which were now trapped under her belt, and a thick hat. Those would both come in handy during the cold season when the white rain fell. The white gathered in heaps along the ground and stuck to your clothes. It was a most unpleasant thing.
The quick-claw mutant suddenly lifted his head up, alert. Cora knew that look well enough.
‘What is it?’ she asked.
Lyle shook his head and rose from the floor. ‘I don’t know.’ He
ran from the house and Cora followed him, clumsily tripping through the stuff on the floor.
They were back outside, standing in the middle of town where the dried-up well was. Lyle’s eyes were on the sky, but Cora had her hood pulled up and dared not look directly upwards into the sun’s rays.
‘The raiders are back,’ said Lyle quietly. His voice sounded anxious and Cora wished she knew what he saw.
‘What is it? What’s out there?’ she rapidly asked.
‘Ships … big ships.’ Lyle took her arm and guided her around to the side of his house where the flying ships could not spot them. ‘There must be hundreds of Utopians inside those things.’
Cora felt panicked. Of course the Utopians decided to attack during the day, when everyone but a single girl could see!
‘They’re dropping something …’
Lyle did not get to finish his explanation of what was dropping, for a thunderous bang echoed in the distance. Cora felt the ground shake and a warm wind touch her face. She fell against Lyle and clutched his arm for support.
‘W-what was that?’ she asked, panicked.
‘I-I don’t know,’ responded Lyle, also jittery.
Another crash boomed nearby, causing the earth to tremble once again. Cora saw pieces of stone hurtle into the ground at tremendous speeds and she cowered against the side of the house and behind Lyle, using him to shield the light.
‘What’s happening!?’
‘Explosives,’ breathed Lyle, ‘and Shyla is closer than we are. Wait here.’
Cora felt Lyle break free from her grip and she abruptly looked up in fear. The full force of the sun struck her, and her gaze filled with darkness, leaving her – not just alone – but blind.
‘Lyle! Lyle, come back!’ she cried. Another tremor knocked her to the ground and her hands clawed through the dirt, reaching for the side of the house. She felt the hot stone and moved towards it, her breathing shaky. She held on through the tremors, too terrified to move.
I am sitting prey like this, she thought bitterly, her eyes slowly filling with tears. They will blast me into the sky.
The Mutants Page 3
