Firstlife

by Gena Showalter

  I'm stuck this time, aren't I? Twice before, my body has died, and my spirit has come to this realm, but both times, the boys were there to save me. Today, I'm on my own.

  Now I'll be forever separated from my mother...forever separated from my brother...forever separated from Killian and Archer. Tears of frustration spill down my cheeks. My hand trembles as I wipe the drops away and--

  Ten's tears fall, and I call.

  The words hit me like lightning. The song Loony Lina sang as I died. Could it be... No, no, surely not...but maybe...a survival guide?

  You sang it. Don't you remember? You sang it, and you saved them.

  Them? The other kids?

  Ten's tears fall, and I call.

  "Hello?" I call. "Is anyone out there?"

  Silence greets me. Maybe I'm wrong, but...

  "Hello?" I repeat a little louder.

  A few yards away, bushes slap together. I tense, wondering if I've just summoned the worst of the worst, until a girl shouts, "Where are you?"

  "This way!" The song is a blueprint to our salvation. It must be. "Follow the sound of my voice."

  I talk and talk and talk about nothing and finally she steps from the shadows. I recognize her pale braided bun--Kayla!--and race forward.

  "Stop," she screams, and I immediately obey. "Move to the right."

  I do, avoiding a shimmery pocket of air. A pocket that stands upright like a nearly imperceptible doorway. "Thank you."

  The moment I reach her, the peace-seeking activist draws back her hand to slap me. The blow is weak, because she is weak, but it still manages to turn my head.

  "I've been waiting for you, hoping you'd come back." She glares at me. "My brother was captured because of you."

  Okay. Should have seen that coming. I rub the corner of my lip. "I'm sorry. I tried to distract the beast. Tried to help you guys."

  "Well, you didn't." She withers, wrapping her arms around her middle. "How did you manage to escape? A flash of light radiated from you, and boom, you were gone."

  "My body was resuscitated." Now. The chitchat will have to wait. Nine hundred trees, but only one is for me. "I'm looking for a special tree. One that won't hurt us."

  "How did you-- Never mind. This way." She jogs off and I follow, sticking close to her heels, ducking when she ducks, jumping when she jumps. Limbs reach for us, plants bite at us, but none are able to catch us.

  "How do you know where you're going?" I ask.

  "The land is a maze filled with hundreds of invisible doorways that lead back to where you started--or into a trap. You either learn to navigate or you become bait for the animals. You don't want to be bait. Your screams will join all the others as your organs are eaten...regrown...and eaten again."

  Many ends...

  As we continue to run, I pick up the pattern in her actions. There's always a pattern, nothing by chance. Eight steps, duck. Nine steps, jump. Ten steps, turn. Eleven steps, turn. Twelve steps--

  This is a count up, I realize. As if I'm gaining more time the farther I go. And if I were to turn and head in the opposite direction--twelve steps duck, eleven steps jump, ten steps turn, nine steps turn, eight steps duck--it would be a countdown. Time running out.

  Symbolic?

  Boom!

  The ground shakes, but I'm used to it and manage to stay on my feet. The trees and foliage shrink away from us, and in the distance, the mushroom cloud rises.

  "Hurry!" Kayla pants. "The birds always know when fresh meat has arrived."

  The first tingles of dread arise. One step, five, eight and spin. A loud gaggle of squawks cuts through the smoky air.

  "How much farther?" I'm wheezing now.

  "Almost...there." She's wheezing worse.

  Eight times eight times eight they fly, whatever you do, don't stay dry.

  One of the birds swoops down, its claws open, ready to latch on to Kayla. As I dive on her, knocking her out of the way, the tips of those claws scrap my back and I cry out. When we land, we roll forward. Up ahead, there's an anthill and a swarm of ember-bugs. We're going to end up in one or the other, because this is freaking Many Ends, and there's no escaping an opportunity for pain.

  An-n-nd the anthill wins.

  The little beasties have upraised eyes, like alligators, yet they have the belly and stinger of a bumblebee and the legs of a cricket. And if the drool dripping from their fangs--because yes, we can add vampire to the mix--means anything, Ten is on the dinner menu.

  They converge on me en masse, crawling all over me, biting me. Screaming, I bat at my face, my arms. Kayla's screams soon blend with mine. We're being eaten alive, and we can't go on like this. It's too much, but the sad thing is, it won't kill us.

  An ember-bug joins the party, stinging me, blistering me, but also killing some of the ants. An idea hits me. It's horrible. It's going to get me hurt. But I'll recover. Maybe.

  I throw myself into the swarm of ember-bugs. They sting me repeatedly, and I'm pretty sure my skin is melting off, but the ants are dying, too, so I consider it a win. Though my eyes are so swollen that I'm nearing total blindness, I'm able to find Kayla through her screams and throw myself at her. Our limbs tangle, the ember-bugs attacking her, as well.

  When the last of the ants are killed, I tighten my grip on Kayla and roll over the grass, rocks cutting into exposed muscle but also smashing the ember-bugs. By the time we still, I'm leaking so much Lifeblood I'm not sure I'll have the strength to stand.

  "Almost...there," Kayla gasps. Her eyes and lips are as swollen as mine, and there are puncture marks all over her face, neck and arms. She manages to climb to all fours. "This way."

  Squawks sound from the sky. The birds must be circling us. We're easy pickings.

  I grit my teeth and climb to all fours, as well. Dizziness nearly topples me as I make my way forward, staying behind her through touch alone, my fingers brushing her foot every time I extend my arm.

  Finally, blessedly, she stops. "Eat," she says, placing something in my hand.

  I don't take the time to study it--why even try? My eyes are still too swollen to see more than shadows. I just stuff the thing--a leaf?--into my mouth and chew with what little strength I have left. The moment I swallow, however, that "little" strength multiplies.

  My swelling goes down, and skin begins to grow over my muscles.

  I realize I'm under a Wisteria tree. The largest I've ever seen, with a trunk the size of a freaking house. The flowers are magnificent, some deep violet, some soft pink and some snow-white, all thick and lush, absolutely perfect, hanging from the branches like clusters of grapes.

  I stand and pull Kayla to her feet. The sweet scent of sugarcane permeates everything here.

  "Eat," she repeats, plucking a handful of petals and stuffing them in her mouth. Soon after she swallows, the rest of the punctures fade from her skin.

  I eat a handful of petals myself, the taste as sweet as the smell, something I hadn't noticed while I was in so much pain. I swallow, and my skin begins to tingle, my blood to heat. This is how she and the others survived so long, no doubt about it. But...how is the tree here, in such a desolate place?

  "The birds don't come near us when we're in this shade," she says. "I don't know why. I only know this is the center of the realm."

  "How many other spirits are here?"

  "Thousands. Millions. I'm not sure. The birds carry them to the mountains. If you want to know how many others are safe, like us, the answer fluctuates as newcomers arrive, but right now there are only two others. Reed and a man I've seen in the forest. He runs from us."

  "Kayla?" Reed steps around a car-size branch. When his gaze finds me, it narrows. "You came back."

  "Unfortunately." And now I'd like to find a way out.

  You saved them.

  How?

  Eight times eight times eight they fly, whatever you do, don't stay dry.

  "Last time I was here, you told me there's a lake," I say.

  Reed's smile is cold as he waves
his hand in the direction he just came from. "It's just outside the shade, but the moment you reach the shore, the birds will descend."

  "Even if I jump in?" Don't stay dry...

  His laugh has a very sharp edge. "No. The birds won't get you if you jump in, but something else will. Everyone who's ever touched a drop of that water has been sucked into its depths--and come out in pieces."

  chapter twenty-five

  "If at first you don't succeed, kill your opponent."

  --Myriad

  I stand at the edge of the shade, my pockets full of leaves from the tree, Kayla and Reed beside me. The birds know what I'm planning. They must. They circle overhead, waiting to dive--to attack--the second I move.

  Kayla gives herself a hug. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

  Seven ladies dancing, ignore their sweet romancing. "There's a difference between wanting to do something and knowing I need to do it."

  "Okay. Why do you need to do this?" Reed demands.

  "I think it's the way out." I opt for honesty rather than evasion. As much as I don't want to get their hopes up, I do want to get their hopes up. Hope empowers. It's the reason we wake and the reason we rise. The reason we keep moving forward. "If you could leave, and choose one of the realms--"

  "Yes," they say in unison.

  "No longer interested in peace?" I ask.

  "Peace will always be my first priority, but I know I can't achieve it here," Kayla says.

  I don't have the heart to tell her she'll never achieve it. Troika and Myriad will never call a truce, and their battles will always spill into the Land of the Harvest.

  Reed frowns at me. "Tell me you have a plan to survive whatever's in the water."

  "I do. I'm going to figure it out when I get there."

  He rubs the back of his neck.

  "What do I have to lose? My life? Been there, done that." But what happens next? I don't believe in Fusion, not anymore. Not for anyone. But I'm in Many Ends. I don't think I'll get to enter into the Rest.

  "I can't believe I'm saying this," Reed grumbles, "but I'm coming with you."

  Kayla moans. "I knew you'd insist."

  "You don't have to--" he begins.

  "There's no way I'm staying if you're going," she interjects. "Don't even suggest it."

  A little bubble of hope expands in my chest. There's more to the girl than I realized.

  Reed nods. "Just...be prepared for the worst."

  I hate the thought of risking their lives--and I use the term lives loosely--but if I'm right, and the song is the road map to freedom, this is our best option.

  "I'm prepared," Kayla says. "Every day, I'm prepared."

  "Your faith in me is humbling, guys." I run the wire of a wrist cuff through two belt loops in Reed's mud-stained jeans. Kayla doesn't have belt loops, so I press her finger through the small metal hook. "Whatever happens, you keep a tight grip."

  Her nod is reluctant, but hey, a nod is a nod.

  "Oh, a word of warning. There may or may not be seven women in the water, and if they try to romance you, you have to ignore them." I grab their hands while they sputter in confusion. "Okay, then. On your mark, get set, go!"

  We bound forward, running as fast as we can manage. The birds swoop down, dive-bombing through the sky. And that's not even the worst. The gorilla-spiders spring from the shadows of the forest, using their powerful arms to gallop and increase their speed. I should have known they were out there!

  Fight the panic. Stay focused. Any moment now they'll reach us...almost there... I leap to the side, dragging Kayla with me to avoid another doorway. Then I sprint for the shore, forcing Reed and Kayla to keep pace. We end up belly flopping, the top halves of our bodies in the water, our legs on the ground.

  A gorilla grabs Reed's ankle. A bird sinks sharp claws into my back while another bites Kayla's calf, drawing Lifeblood. I kick my attacker and twist to throw water at the animals. The droplets splash over them, and like the Wicked Witch of the West, their flesh sizzles. We're released, allowing us to scramble deeper into the water, but there's no time to rejoice. No reason to bask in a sense of relief. In seconds, we're sucked into a whirling vortex, traveling down, down, deeper and deeper into the water.

  As I attempt to kick my way to the surface, I swallow too much water and choke. We continue to spin, round and round, the wire wrapping around Reed's waist. Zero! My plan to keep us together might just sever him in half.

  Finally, the spinning stops. I'm dizzy, but at least I can breathe again, the water sucked away from us--even from my lungs. We're trapped in the eye of a great and terrible storm, suspended inside a beam of jellyair, I think. Fish...things...swim around us; they have the face and torso of a human female. The shape, anyway. Rather than skin, they are covered in scales. Long strands of pink hair drift around shark-like bodies.

  "Come with me," one says. As she speaks, two layers of dagger-sharp teeth are revealed, a piece of flesh trapped between the two in front.

  "No, no, come with me," another says.

  They giggle like little girls and continue inviting us over.

  A third speaks up. "Let's be friends. Everyone could use a new friend."

  Yes, yes, I'd love to go with them, would love to make a new friend. Sounds like the best ideas ever. Reed and Kayla must agree with me, because they're already paddling forward, reaching for the seven ladies dancing.

  Seven ladies dancing, ignore their sweet romancing.

  Loony Lina's voice fills my head, drowning out the giggles and the chatter. I shake my head to clear my thoughts and concentrate fully on the task at hand, only then realizing the "ladies" are licking their teeth, preparing to chomp into the first person to come within reach.

  Zero! I yank on the wires, pulling the kids to my side. They fight me, actually kicking at me, desperate to join their new "friends."

  In an effort to drown out the sweet romancing, I sing the song out loud. The kids fight me less and less, the fish-girls growing more and more agitated, screaming and cursing, the long strands of their hair actually standing on end and crackling with bolts of lightning, as if they've stuck their hands in a socket.

  When Reed and Kayla at last still, the bottom of the jellyair vanishes, and we're dropped.

  Down, down we fall through a tunnel of darkness, finally hitting something sharp. We roll over dirt and rocks, the wires now wrapped around all of us, cutting both my arms to the bone. I hemorrhage, strength draining out of me at a rapid rate. I tremble, my limbs weakening as I untangle myself.

  In my pocket, only one leaf remains; the others must have been sucked out with the water. Reed and Kayla, who also packed their pockets, come up empty. I tear the leaf in three and we each eat a section.

  Warmth...my skin patching itself...a return of strength, but not a full recharge.

  I work my way to my feet, and Reed and Kayla struggle to stand alongside me.

  "Where are we?" she whispers. There's a tinge of horror in her voice--a tinge I feel myself.

  "I don't know."

  The room is lit by bone torches--flames crackling at the end of human remains. The ground isn't rock and dirt as I assumed but pulled teeth and...cat litter? The scent of baking soda does not prevail against unwashed bodies.

  Walls tower all around us, but they aren't made of stone, wood or drywall. No, these walls are made of cages. Too many to count, one stacked upon the other. Inside each cage is a single spirit. The Unsigned? Those captured in the Realm of Many Ends? The occupants are contorted in different positions of pain, moaning with various degrees of torment.

  Laughter suddenly rings out, and it doesn't come from the cages. Someone's coming!

  "Six seconds to hide, up, up, and you'll survive," I command softly. "Climb. Now."

  We scale the cages as if the ground is on fire, able to use the upper bars as handrails and use the lower bars as footstools. The caged people watch us, but they're too pained to comment. This is going to haunt me for the rest of my--death.

/>   When three men turn the corner, we go still. I shake, beads of sweat trickling down my temple. The men don't bother to look anywhere but the bottom row of prisoners. Prisoners who are shrinking back, making the men laugh.

  They stop at the cage on the far right, unlock the door and reach inside, dragging out a sobbing teenage boy.

  "Please, no," the boy pleads. "Please."

  "You know better." One of the men holds the kid's mouth open. "You don't speak to your betters."

  Another man palms a dagger, reaches out and slices off the kid's tongue.

  The sheer brutality of the act makes me suck in a breath. As the men drag the boy away, he fights as best he can, but it does him no good. He's too weak, and they are too strong.

  I'm too weak to help. Three against one. Or three against three if Reed and Kayla help, but who knows if they will. I tell myself I'll be captured. We'll all be captured. We'll be locked away, and we won't be any good to anyone. It's a choice. A smart choice. I can come back for him. For everyone. I'll know the way to a safe place, and I can return armed to the max. Maybe. Hopefully.

  But I remember the time Bow--Archer--fought the guards inside Prynne. I did nothing and guilt ate at me.

  I might regret this, but--

  I drop, my stomach floating into my throat. I pull the wire in my bracelet--Thank you, Killian--the second I land on one of the guard's shoulders. He grunts. As we fall, I wrap the wire around his neck but as soon as we reach the ground, I roll off him, the wire remaining in place, choking him. My arms are extended overhead, and I use them to pull myself around and kick him in the face. A face that's bright red, almost blue.

  His eyes bulge as he struggles to free himself, making little gurgling sounds.

  Another guard boots me in the stomach. Stars explode behind my eyes and pain shoots through me. He doesn't help his friend--if they're even friends--because the jerking motion of my body only tightens the wire.

  Mr. Boot draws back his leg, preparing to deliver another strike. I prepare to take it like a girl. Better than a man. Reed lands on him, and the two topple in a tangle of punching fists.

  The third guard releases the tongueless boy and runs. If he gets away, we're toast. He'll come back with others.

  Sometimes you can offer someone a second chance. Sometimes you shouldn't.

  I yank my arms with all my strength. The wire cuts through the guard's throat--completely. Suddenly I'm free of my burden and running after the last man.