“It’s okay to talk, Gabi,” the man continued. “I can put two and two together. I know you’re an orphan. So is Diego, I’m guessing.”
“Of course he is,” she growled. “He’s my brother.”
“And you’ve been watching out for him, like a good sister. All alone, trying to get to Concordia. How long have you been on Demeter?” He paused, waiting for her to answer. “What happened to your parents?”
Gabi stood up and chucked the heel of her of her bread into the woods. Her teeth clenched together, and she was suddenly aware of the tension in her forearm as her fingers flexed closed tightly. “You don’t want to know.”
“I asked, didn’t I?”
“Mama’s with God now,” Diego interjected sadly.
She wheeled around, snarling at her nosy prisoner. “That’s right. Our mom is dead. She killed herself five years ago, shortly after Diego was born. She was weak and couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t take the fact that Diego was born because she was raped by the man that beat my dad to death. And all of this shit happened right in front of me. Right after we crashed on this planet.” Calvin’s jaw slacked and his eyes widened. “I told you that you didn’t want to know.”
Gabi let him choke on his surprise and horror, walking to the edge of the river to calm herself down. Her hands trembled, shaken by years of anger at her cowardly mother that never seemed to fade. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and thought of her hero.
You were way stronger than Mama. I just wish you hadn’t gotten sick. You never would have let Will stop, would you, Haruka?
She was startled by Calvin, who had somehow snuck up on her as she was reflecting. His voice was as calm as ever, not rattled as she expected him to be.
“You’re a survivor of Raphael,” he said. “I don’t know how, but you guys somehow made it. You landed, you survived, and now you’re here.”
“Sometimes I think the lucky ones died in the crash,” she mumbled.
Calvin chewed on his lower lip as he considered this. “That doesn’t sound lucky to me. Maybe someday you’ll feel different about it. Everything in life is worth it in the end. The laughter. The crying. The love, and even the loss.”
Gabi shot him a caustic glance as she stepped around him. “Come on, time to move on,” she deflected.
They were on the road again in a couple minutes. Diego did not roam ahead as usual; he stuck unusually close to Gabi. She accidentally stepped into him a couple times, once knocking him down before they finally settled in a rhythm. Calvin took the lead, strolling about six paces ahead of them. The monotony of marching soon set in, and she found her attention wandering.
The way Calvin tried to calm her still haunted her. When she replayed his words in her mind, she heard them in her father’s voice. She shook away the distant echoes from beyond the grave.
Keep it together, Gabi, she assured herself. You’re almost there.
Gov Darius Owens
25 July, 6 yal, 14:41
Lost in the wilderness west of Concordia
Get up.
The voice inside him no longer screamed with urgency. While it told him to move, its flat tone lacked spirit and focus; it was as broken as Darius.
The fingers on his left hand twitched. Parched dirt and twigs tickled the palm of his hand. His eyelids felt like they were staked to the ground, too heavy to consider opening. Dust invaded his nose and mouth as he breathed, but he could do little but cough. After a few fits he could no longer spit out the offending dirt, and was forced to swallow his own muddy saliva.
Get up.
The insanity of his position might have registered if he could step back and watch what was happening to him. Face down, sprawled across the forest floor, just feet from the bank of the creek, Darius couldn’t even pull himself to the edge for a drink. His lips were cracked and bloodied, and the wounds closed only long enough for the process to repeat itself. His right arm was completely limp, his injured leg nearly as lame. The nauseating stench of necrotic flesh mingled with pungent scents from bright flowers just beyond his reach.
That’s it. This is going to be your grave. He’s going to win.
Darius mumbled something incoherently. There was no one to listen. At least, no one human. Somewhere nearby, a pine ranger warbled its terse call over and over. A branch snapped in the distance; whether it was a careless Demeter deer or a scavenging reaper bear he couldn’t say, nor did he care. Days of wandering in the woods delirious and starving had finally taken its toll. His spirit was as shattered as his body. Only the weak protests of his conscience remained.
The pine ranger stopped calling out. Darius strained to hear, wondering if the bird had taken flight. He was envious of that freedom; his body was now nothing more than a rotting prison for his mind. A thinking corpse.
He picked up sounds just barely audible over the babbling creek. Not the bird he sought. The tones were much too low. Nor were they as patterned as the insectivore’s song. Darius cycled a deep breath, clearing his mind so he could process it better. There was definitely more than one voice, and they were moving closer. He didn’t recognize the animal, though. It wasn’t a bear, as the tone was too high, and not gravelly enough. Too low to be a deer or any of the known raptors. His eyes fluttered open and his heart raced when he finally identified what species could make the noises he heard.
Humans.
“No, don’t go over there,” a female voice protested.
“I have to look. I have to know,” the deep voice of her male companion responded.
Darius tried to call out to them, but all that escaped his lips was a pathetic, wheezing cough.
“Why?” the woman asked. Slightly closer. They were still moving toward him. “Haven’t we seen enough bodies?”
“It matters how. If this is another plague…”
“Don’t say that!” The woman’s voice was definitely wavering.
Who is she? Is she crying? What plague?
Darius could hear the footfalls of their approach, growing louder with every step. He summoned all of his strength and forced the air in his lungs past his vocal cords. Somehow he managed to groan, though not terribly loudly. The footsteps stopped suddenly.
“Holy shit, he’s alive!” the man exclaimed, bursting into a run.
Darius was rolled onto his back. Light flooded his eyes, forcing him to squint. He could only barely make out the shape of a man kneeling over him. Someone moved his arms, laying them flat against the dirt.
“Hey,” the man said loudly, shaking Darius’s shoulder. “Hey, can you hear me?”
The response that escaped Darius’s lips was so broken that he couldn’t even understand it.
“W-what the hell did that?” the woman stammered, clearly agitated.
“I don’t know, maybe a bear?”
Darius gurgled and tried to nod, though it wasn’t clear if they could perceive the motion.
“No! No bears!” a third voice called out, whining. It was that of a young child. Frightened. Unsure.
“Shh, Daph,” another woman soothed. “There’s no bear here.”
The man scrutinized him, probing his wounds and placing a palm to Darius’s brow. He shook his head. “It looks like he’s been putting on some kind of herbal paste. Maybe something to slow it down. He’s got a bad infection, though. Here, Kris, help me out here.”
A dark shape moved quickly through his line of vision, where he lost it in his periphery. Wrenching pain coursed through his body as he felt his torso lifted from the ground. His arms were spread wide, draped between the two people lifting him. He groaned in agony, his head suddenly swimming.
“Easy, buddy, easy,” the man chirped. “Hang on for us, okay?”
Lord, please let this be real.
“Follow the creek. I saw the smoke coming from downstream. We can’t be far now.”
Darius felt his heart leap as they moved forward, lurching at first then settling into a wide, swaying rhythm. He closed his eyes. The m
otion made his stomach churn, and at times he felt as if his body was entirely apart from his consciousness. He tried to protest several times, but couldn’t make a discernible sound. Even time didn’t adhere to rationality; there was a sensation that it slowed to a crawl, or simply skipped several minutes.
Eventually shadows crept in and the forward motion stopped. He was lowered to a horizontal position again. Gone was the coolness of shade and dirt. Warmth and softness surrounded him, though something cool and wet brushed across his brow. There were voices, even more than before. Conversations surrounded him, but the words were mostly gibberish.
Lord, what is happening to me?
Bright light pierced through into the depths of his soul. As quickly as it came, it was gone.
No. No, not now. I can’t die.
“Governor Owens?” A man’s voice. Deep. Echoed. Distant.
What?
“Governor, can you hear me?”
His eyes drifted open just a crack. He was indoors. Four people stood around him, though their faces were blurs. “Yes,” he managed, just barely more than a whisper.
“Governor, you’re safe. It’s me, Doctor Kilborne. I’m going to take care of you now, but we need to act quickly. I’m going to put you under in a second. Do you understand?”
Doctor Kilborne. A competent practitioner originally who was originally a passenger on Gabriel. A man he’d met a couple times in the early years, but lost contact with since he moved to Rust Creek.
“Y-yes.”
“Hold up a sec, Doc,” another man interjected. His voice was oddly familiar, but one he hadn’t heard in years. “Governor, do you know who did this to you?”
Jacob Granger. Calvin’s former neighbor.
“Yes.” He licked his bloody lips. “Young,” he rasped.
Darius felt the pinprick in his arm as the doctor slipped the drugs into his veins.
“We’ll see you when you wake up.”
As Darius faded into the darkness, he heard his caretakers curse Young’s name.
I’m coming for you, you son of a bitch.
Gabrielle Serrano
25 July, 6 yal, 18:37
Outskirts of Concordia
Exhaustion was her eternal enemy. More persistent than any predator she had escaped in her years as a hunter. Picking away at her consciousness as the pounding seas eroded the shore. She was so close to her final goal, yet her feet grew heavier with every step. The throbbing of her feet escalated almost in perfect harmony with Diego’s increasingly urgent complaints of fatigue.
The great city, the one that Will had promised would be there, lay before them. Its heart was only a mile or two away, but a mile too far. She had seen its expanse as they came out of the hills, sprawling out in a wide circle. The city seemed to shimmer in the dying light as brightly as the river that neatly bifurcated it. Massive gray hulks, more than a dozen times larger than the pods she had seen back on Raphael Island, lay dormant on each side of the river.
But the vision disappeared as night fell, even as they pressed closer to the dwellings and shops that Calvin had spoken of. Gabi pressed on along the road, lined on either side by tall stalks of corn. Endless. Suffocating.
She had no more to give. Her feet dragged to a halt, and without so much as a second thought, she dropped her pack to the ground. Her vinewood bow, useless without any arrows, clattered to the dirt next to her. Gabi could hear her brother’s sigh of relief as his miniscule load quickly met the packed earth.
Calvin stopped in the middle of the road, his outline barely visible in the moonlight. Gabi couldn’t see his expression, though she knew by the tingling in her nerves that he was looking at her.
“Are you serious?” he grumbled.
“We’re stopping for the night,” she replied coolly.
“You’ve come all this way, and you’re going to just stop now?”
“I’m tired!” Diego whined emphatically.
“My feet are killing me too,” Gabi added. “Besides, it’s too dark to see. Might break a leg or twist an ankle if we keep going.”
“Sure. Spend a night in a cornfield,” Calvin replied. “Sounds great. Totally comfortable. Great view of the stars.” He thrust his hand skyward, emphasizing the glittering, milky multitude of lights strung in the cosmos above. He then abruptly turned toward the city and started walking.
Gabi reached to her pack and drew her tomahawk from its makeshift holster. “Hey, where do you think you’re going?”
“Home. To sleep in a real bed.”
She brought her arm back, ready to hurl the weapon at her prisoner’s back, but stopped.
A real bed, she thought. No more dirt. No more waking up in the middle of the night looking for bears.
“Wait,” she blurted.
Calvin stopped.
Gabi cursed herself silently for the moment of weakness. The idea of an actual bed was tempting. Her joints and feet ached badly.
“The town will be there tomorrow. Diego’s too tired. We rest.”
“Diego,” he called out without a moment’s hesitation. “Do you want a warm, soft bed tonight? Or do you want to sleep in this creepy old corn field.”
“Bed!” Diego jumped to his feet, clapping.
“D!” Gabi snapped at him. She turned to the tall, dark form of her prisoner. “Do you want to listen to him whine the whole way there?”
“Christ, Gabi, I’ll carry him on my shoulders. You too, if I have to. You have no idea how badly I want to be home right now.”
Before she could react, Calvin knelt next to Diego, who scrambled up his back and perched on his shoulders. He took a few steps, wobbling awkwardly as he tried to correct his balance.
“Stop,” she protested.
“This would be a lot easier if you’d cut me free.”
“Don’t even think about…”
“About what?” he cut her off. “You saved my life. Even though you’ve kept me tied up ever since, I wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt you. If it’s tomorrow, next week, or a month from now that I can prove myself, I can wait. Just please, I want to go home. I want to see my daughter. I want my hands to be free so I can hold her. That’s the only thing I’ll ever ask of you.”
Gabi closed the gap between them. Her fury over his arrogance and manipulation of her brother seethed. But something else was building within her. It was subtle at first. She wondered why she didn’t bury her tomahawk in the man’s chest, why she hesitated. But then the similarity struck her, and it was almost too much to bear.
There, in front of her in the darkness, stood a man far too much like her own father; a silhouette in the night, with a small child hoisted on his shoulders. The gesture seemed innocent enough, but the reflection was too striking. She saw herself aloft on her father’s shoulders. Taller than the world. Secure atop his broad frame, held by his sheltering arms.
Gabi dropped the tomahawk, instead selecting the dead assassin’s knife to slice apart the bonds. The black nylon rope dropped in a heap at her feet. Calvin rubbed his wrists together and whispered, “Thank you.”
She shook her head, as disappointed in herself as she was irritated at his ability to sway her. She went to retrieve her pack, but he followed close behind her, picking it up as she reached for it.
“Hey,” she protested.
“You’ve done enough already. Let me do something for you now.” He shifted Diego slightly as he slung the pack over his shoulder, then marched steadily toward the city.
The time passed silently, though not uncomfortably. Without the weight of her pack, Gabi felt as if she was floating along the road. They were within the city in a half hour, and Calvin opened the door to his home a few minutes later. He ushered the Serrano children inside.
Without Persephone’s illumination, the inside of the home was pitch black. Gabi stumbled blindly in the darkness, shuffling a few inches at a time until her hands came into contact with something solid. A moment later, Calvin lit a lantern, bathing the room in a soft, warm gl
ow. She stood next to a small bench. Racks on either side of the room were stocked with dozens of brown, green, and clear bottles full of liquid. Diego had been placed in the middle of the floor, rubbing his eyes and blinking.
“This way,” Calvin motioned with the lantern. “Bedroom’s upstairs.”
He led the way up a steep wooden staircase. The room above was lavishly decorated, with a dresser full of woven baskets, a water basin, and the biggest bed Gabi had seen on Demeter backed up against the wall. She stared at it, blinking incomprehensively. It was easily large enough to sleep all three of them, and the cloth blanket that was draped over it looked as if it might keep a pleasant balance of warmth through the night.
“You two can have the bed,” he said, placing the lantern on the dresser and starting for the staircase. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“Wait,” Gabi blurted. He stopped, and there was a brief, awkward pause. “Won’t you be cold?”
He shook his head. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered.”
Calvin disappeared long enough for Gabi to shed her pack and get settled under the covers with Diego. The mattress was thicker and softer than anything she had ever slept on in Camp Eight, and the blanket almost tickled her as it brushed across her chin. Diego drifted to sleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. Calvin returned, wrapped in a massive, dark brown fur blanket. She shuddered, recognizing the animal that it came from.
“Did you kill that thing yourself?” she asked.
He shook his head before finding a bare patch of floor to settle into. “Traded for it. I’ve seen what these bears can do up close. They’re dangerous. Stay away from them.”
Too late for that.
Conversation would have to wait for the morning, as exhaustion quickly overtook her.
Project Columbus: Omnibus Page 129
