Children of the Mountain (Book 3): Lightning Child

by Hakok, R. A.

  I lift a snowshoe high to clear a drift. Underneath my parka Hicks’ pistol shifts in its holster. It was sitting on the roof of the locomotive when I stepped outside; Cass must have tossed it down after she was done emptying it. My backpack’s gone, however, which means the only ammunition I have left for it is what’s tucked into the gun belt’s loops, less than a dozen shells all told.

  My ribs ache with every breath. I have no food, not even a canteen. And when I get back to the bunker I’ll have to come clean to the Juvies: admit to the lies I told about our food and break the news that we’ll be leaving again, not even a week after we arrived.

  But it doesn’t matter, any of it.

  Behind the mask I feel the corners of my mouth pull upwards into a smile.

  I can scarcely believe my luck.

  I don’t have to go back to The Greenbrier. I don’t have to convince Gilbey to give me any of her medicine, and I don’t have to trade Starkly’s inmates for it. Mags and the kid, they don’t need it.

  They never have.

  I think back to the newspaper reports I used to collect, when I was out scavenging with Marv. Among them was an interview with a scientist, one of those tasked with studying the virus, in the hope of coming up with a cure. The world had come to know ferro as a weapon, she said, something that had been designed to kill. But what she’d seen didn’t support that theory; the way it worked was just too complicated for that to be its purpose. She reckoned those that had become infected, it was like the virus meant to rebuild them, on the inside, to replace their internal wiring with its own.

  Problem was the circuits the virus meant us to have were way faster, and our bodies had never been designed for that kind of speed. Most people who got infected simply didn’t survive. Those few that did became something else, a transformation you’d be hard pressed to consider an improvement.

  Except it didn’t have to go that way - Vince and Cass and the others from the junkyard are the proof of it. If the virus got interrupted before it overwhelmed you, before you turned, there’s a chance you could become something else.

  Something better.

  Faster.

  Stronger.

  Getting Mags and the kid back to Eden and into the scanner, it must have done that for them. I don’t understand how exactly, but that doesn’t matter now. Once the Juvies understand they’ll stop being afraid. We can all return to Mount Weather together.

  I pick up the pace, ignoring the protests from my side. There’s already several weeks’ worth of rations in the airlock; it won’t take long to add enough to that for the journey back. We can be on the road within a couple of days, and safely back inside the mountain long before the storms arrive.

  *

  THE HANDLE COMPLETES ITS ROTATION and comes to a jerky halt. He stares at the metal door, undecided. The man with the gray eyes is dangerous, he knows that; the girl shouldn’t be out there alone with him. He hesitates a moment longer and then steps into the airlock, crossing quickly to the outer door. The slot is too high, so he drags a box of cans over from the stacks that line the wall and steps onto it. He has to go up on tiptoe, but now he can see.

  The girl is standing in front of the door, her back to him. A little way beyond the dangerous man waits, his arms held out from his sides. He’s holding something in one hand. The glass is thick, rimed with ice, so it’s hard to tell, but it doesn’t look like a gun. At his side is a boy he also recognizes, from that night inside the mountain. He stares at the girl through strands of lank brown hair. His nose looks funny, like what the girl did to it, it didn’t set straight. A lazy grin plays across his lips. Three others kneel in the snow in front of him, their heads down, their hands behind their backs. The two on either side he knows immediately; it’s the boy with the dark skin and the other one, the one who goes outside with him to guard the silo. There’s a third figure between them, a bag over his head. The plastic blurs his features, but he thinks he recognizes him. It’s one of the two large boys from the first place inside the mountain they visited, the place that had the machine, the one that fixed him. He can’t tell which of them it might be, however, because those boys were difficult to tell apart.

  Behind him he hears noises as others reach the top of the stair and start making their way along the passageway. The girl with the blond hair is the first into the airlock. When she sees him she comes to a sudden halt and shouts at those behind who are still trying to push forward. The boy with the curly hair squeezes past her and steps up to the door. He shuffles over to make room for him. The boy cups one hand to his brow and presses his face to the slot.

  ‘What’s she doing out there, without a parka? She’ll freeze. And what’s…’

  He stops midsentence and takes a sudden step backward. His hands drop to the handle.

  ‘She said we were to wait.’

  ‘That’s Peck. I’m not leaving her out there with him.’

  He grips the wheel, but the girl has set the lock; when he tries to turn it it just clanks against its stop. The sound is loud inside the small chamber. Outside the girl must hear it too. She doesn’t turn her head, but one hand slides behind her back and she splays her fingers.

  Stay.

  The boy with the curly hair doesn’t say anything, but after a moment he lets go of the handle and presses his face back to the glass.

  Outside the dangerous man is saying something to the girl. The man’s voice is muffled by the thick steel, but he can still make out most of his words.

  ‘…need to watch carefully now…not do anything stupid.’

  The man turns and nods at the boy with the grin. He steps behind the large boy in the middle. The large boy looks frightened, but the boy with the grin lays one hand on his shoulder, like he means to reassure him, and that seems to calm him down. With his other hand he reaches for a corner of the plastic, pinches something there, then takes a quick step backward.

  For a moment nothing happens, and then the large boy’s eyes suddenly go wide and his whole body convulses. Something white that looks like foam spews from his mouth, spraying the inside of the bag. He tries to stand but fails in the attempt, and instead falls forward, landing face first in the snow. He twitches once, twice, and then goes still.

  The girl reaches behind her back, draws the gun. For a second the man’s expression changes, like the speed of it might have taken him by surprise, but then he recovers. He raises his hand and now he can see the thing he’s holding is a radio.

  ‘Those explosions you may have heard, they were grenades, dropped into each of the vent shafts to open them up. Jason, Seth, Zack, Sergeant Scudder, they each have a canister of the same stuff that just did for Angus there. Some sort of nerve agent Gilbey had us pick up from Fort Detrick. It’s nasty business, make no mistake.’ His eyes drop to the body lying in the snow. ‘Only took the tiniest little capsule of it to do that.’ He holds up the radio. ‘They’re waiting for me to tell them whether or not to drop those canisters down the shafts.’

  The girl takes aim at the man’s head.

  ‘’Course if they don’t back hear from me, or if they hear a gunshot, their orders are to drop them anyway.’

  The girl pauses for a moment, like she’s considering this.

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Why, you. And the other one Gilbey had been working on, the little one.’ He turns to the boy beside him, the one with the grin. ‘What’d she say his name was, Kurt? 99?’

  The one called Kurt smiles, nods.

  ‘That’s it.’

  The man raises his voice, as if he’s addressing not just the girl now.

  ‘Gilbey doesn’t care about the rest of you anymore. She’s only interested in the two who were infected and found themselves a cure.’

  He hears murmurs from behind him as this news makes its way back along the passageway. The boy with the curly hair tells them to be quiet. Outside the girl still has the gun trained on the dangerous man.

  ‘You working for Gilbey now, Randall?�
�

  ‘I serve at the pleasure of the President, little girl, same as I ever did. I guess you thought you were being smart, sending him back to her like that? You think a man like Kane wouldn’t be able to cut himself a deal?’ He looks at her for a moment, as though he’s expecting a response. When he doesn’t get one he continues. ‘So here it is: I fetch you and the kid back, she lets him go.’

  The girl shakes her head.

  ‘You won’t drop those canisters. If you do you’ll kill us all. And if I’m dead you have nothing to bring back to Gilbey.’

  The man just stares back at her.

  ‘You might want to think that through a second. Without you and the kid Kane’s dead anyway. Or worse. So you decide. What’s it to be?’ He raises his voice again. ‘You and the kid, or everyone in there dies.’

  ‘You can’t have Johnny.’

  ‘I’m not sure you’re in any position to be making demands.’

  The man nods at the boy he called Kurt. He pulls a plastic bag from his pocket and takes a step towards the boy with the dark skin who’s still kneeling in the snow. The girl shifts her aim and he freezes. The smile disappears from his face.

  ‘You can’t have him because he’s already dead, Randall. He turned the same day we left Eden. Gabe had to put a bullet in him. His body’s lying in a ditch, not more than hundred yards from the railroad crossing, right there on the other side of the state line. Go look for yourself if you don’t believe me. Should be easy enough to find.’

  The dangerous man studies her for a long moment, as if considering. In the end he nods.

  ‘Well, Gilbey said that might happen. I guess you’ll just have to do then.’

  The girl nods, like she understands. She lowers the gun.

  ‘I need to gather my things.’

  She turns back towards the entrance.

  The dangerous man calls after her.

  ‘Don’t be long.’ He holds up the radio, as if to make his point. ‘I’m not in a patient mood.’

  *

  THERE’S A SERIES OF CLICKS as the girl enters the code, then the grumble of gears and the handle starts to turn. He steps off the box. There are too many of them in the room beyond the airlock and he doubts they will let him hide among them, so he scurries over and crouches behind the stacked rations. A second later the door swings back and the girl steps inside. She grabs the wheel and pulls it closed behind her.

  The boy with the curly hair steps forward.

  ‘That was just to buy some time, right? I mean, you have a plan, don’t you?’

  He says it like he needs it to be so. The girl looks past him, into the faces pressed into the passageway beyond the airlock. Her eyes settle on one near the back.

  ‘Amy, can you run down to the dorms and fetch my backpack? My parka too; it’s behind the door.’

  There’s a pause and then the sound of footsteps, growing softer as they descend the shaft.

  The boy shakes his head, like he doesn’t want to believe it. His mouth opens, but he looks like he’s struggling to arrange words into sentences. He finally manages to get one out.

  ‘You can’t go with them.’

  The girl with the blond hair had pushed herself back among the others, but now she steps forward again.

  ‘She has to, Jake. You heard what Peck said. It’s her or all of us.’

  She looks around. A few murmurs of agreement, but most of them just stare down at their boots. She points a finger in his direction.

  ‘The little fury; he should go too.’

  He does not want to go back in the cage, and for a moment the thing inside him takes control. He snaps his head around, bares his teeth. The blond girl yanks her hand back like it’s just been burned. The smell of her fear flares in his nostrils.

  He feels the girl’s hand on his shoulder.

  ‘Johnny’s not coming with me, Lauren. I hear that suggestion again, though, and someone else will be.’

  The girl with the blond hair glares back, but after that she stays quiet.

  The girl digs in the pocket of her overalls, retrieves the nub of a pencil. She glances around, searching for something to write on. Her eyes settle on the boxes. She tears the lid from one, presses it against the wall.

  The boy with the curly hair looks around, desperate for something to say that will change her mind.

  ‘What about the airlock? We can move the cans; hide in here.’

  The girl doesn’t look up from what she’s doing.

  ‘We’d never all fit. And even if we did, then what? If Peck dumps whatever that stuff is into the vent shafts the whole silo will be contaminated. We couldn’t go back inside.’

  Footsteps echo up the shaft as the girl she sent to get her clothes returns. There’s only one thing left that might convince her. He doesn’t want to say it out loud, but he also doesn’t want her to leave with the dangerous man, and he’s running out of time.

  He takes a step closer, tugs at her overalls. His voice drops to a whisper.

  ‘The doctor will take you into the other room.’

  As soon as it’s out he’s sorry. Of course the girl knows this. The pencil stops scratching its way across the card and she closes her eyes as the fear rises up in her. He can smell it now. She takes a deep breath, stepping down hard on it so she can concentrate. The nib of the pencil returns to the paper, resumes its path. When she’s done she reaches inside her vest and lifts out the crucifix. She presses it into his hand with the note.

  ‘Give that to Gabe when he gets back.’

  The girl she sent to get her things appears among the others, her face flushed. They part quickly, letting her through. The girl takes the backpack she offers, undoes the snaps and starts pulling out what’s inside. When she finds her thermals she stops, lets the pack fall to the floor. She takes the gun from the waistband of her overalls and hands it to the boy with the curly hair, then starts to undress.

  There’s a loud clang as something strikes the blast door and her eyes flick that way. She shouts that she’s coming, then goes back to putting on her clothes. When she’s done dressing she pulls on her boots, laces them up, stands. She reaches for her parka and steps over to the door.

  ‘Coming out.’

  She closes her eyes, bracing herself, and then turns the handle.

  The seal breaks with a soft sigh and she pushes the door back, slipping through without a backward glance. It closes behind her. There’s a series of clicks as she enters the code and then the grinding of gears as the handle turns to lock it.

  He drags the box of cans back over, steps up on it, peers through the slot.

  She stands in front of the entrance, her arms held out at her side, while the boy named Kurt checks her for weapons. When he’s done he pulls her hands behind her back, loops something around her wrists, ratchets it tight. Then he bends down and does the same to her ankles.

  ‘You planning to carry me all the way back, Randall?’

  The dangerous man doesn’t answer. He says something into his radio. There’s a long pause and then he sees the girl tense. Moments later the huge soldier with the beard and the empty eyes appears, lumbering through the compound. The dangerous man points at the girl. She tries to back up, but her legs are bound. He lifts her as if she weighed nothing, throws her over his shoulder.

  The dangerous man unzips his parka and reaches inside. The girl sees what’s coming and starts to struggle, but the huge soldier holds her easily. There’s a single gunshot and the boy with the dark skin slumps forward into the snow. The other boy stares at his body for a second, then tries to get to his feet. The man adjusts his aim and fires again. He joins the other two in the snow.

  ‘What are you doing? We had a deal.’

  The dangerous man returns the pistol to his jacket.

  ‘I said Gilbey wasn’t interested in the rest of them. I never said anything about Kane. He doesn’t much care for being betrayed.’

  *

  I FOLLOW A TWO-LANE FEEDER Marv’s map says i
s the old North Carolina highway south from Calvander. My snowshoes start to unravel in a serious way just outside a place name of Dogwood and I lose more time than I would like fixing them. Somewhere far behind the bruised clouds the sun reaches its peak and starts tracking for the horizon, but I’m close now. In a few miles I’ll pick up 501, and from there it’s not much more than an hour’s hike to Fearrington.

  I spot the tracks not long after I join the Mount Gilead Church Road: a wide swathe of churned up snow, cutting across the field from the woods that surround the bunker, then turning south. That many prints, at first I think it must be the Juvies. They wouldn’t have left Fearrington without me, though, not unless something very bad had happened. And why would they have taken off in that direction if they had? The only places they know are north of here. I stare at the tracks a while, trying to make sense of it. Then I spot a set of prints, off to one side, indentations so deep they could only belong to one person. I feel something in my chest tighten.

  I take off for the trees, the pain in my side forgotten. Branches swipe at my parka, but I pay them little mind. I clamber over the security barrier and stagger into the clearing.

  It’s Tyler I see first, his frozen corpse face down in the snow. Eric’s lying on his side a little further on. His head is turned away, the gray powder beneath stained dark with his blood.

  I find Angus last. His hands have been cable-tied behind his back, just like the others, but his method of execution was different. I bend closer to examine the bag that’s been taped around his neck. He stares back at me through the clear plastic. His eye are wide, the whites bloodshot, the pupils little more than pinpricks. There’s something around his mouth that looks like foam. More of it sprays the inside of the bag.

  I head for the blast door, fumbling my mittens off to punch in the code. I heave it open, step inside, close it behind me. Someone must have canceled the override because I have to wait for the airlock to cycle. At last the fans die and the wheel on the inner door rotates. I push it open. The corridor beyond is lit, but the bulkhead lamps are dimmed and I don’t hear the generator, which means they’re running off the batteries. A backpack I recognize as Mags’ lies on its side. The snaps are undone; items of her clothing lie strewn across the floor.