Exile

by S. M. Wilson

  It was too late. She’d touched him. If he had the virus, maybe she had it now too.

  Reban stepped between them. “It will be fine. That thing kills dinosaurs, not humans.”

  It was odd. But even though he was saying it in a brash and no-nonsense kind of way, he gave Storm a sideways glance. Her stomach did a little flip. Reban was just as unsure as the rest of them.

  Lincoln stepped closer to Reban. “What on earth made you stay and fight?”

  Reban shrugged. “Honestly? I didn’t think I could outrun it.”

  Storm couldn’t help herself. She bent down in the stream and uncapped her bottle to refill it. But as soon as she had done that she started scrubbing her hands together, even picking up a smooth stone from the stream bed to help.

  Raptors were fast. The truth was most humans would never be able to outrun them. But she had the strangest feeling that Reban hadn’t actually been thinking about himself.

  She lifted her gaze as she scrubbed at her hands. Lincoln was looking at Reban strangely, watching the way he was currently looking at Storm.

  Her stomach clenched.

  Reban hadn’t really been worried about not outrunning the raptors.

  He was just worried that she wouldn’t outrun them.

  The second night was far easier than the first.

  For Lincoln, it felt like some bizarre dream. By the time they’d tramped across the terrain and finally found a suitable place to camp, they’d all been exhausted. The burst of adrenaline earlier in the day seemed to have depleted their reserves. Reban had emptied his backpack of his remaining squashed food from the boat and shared it around. That, along with some berries found in nearby bushes, had been enough to replenish them.

  Campfire chat had been nil. Reban wouldn’t go into any details about the raptor – even though Lincoln had seen the blood on his weapon.

  After they’d finished eating, Lincoln had lain down on his bedroll and stared up at the ink-black sky above. Every time he blinked, he saw what had happened today. Storm hadn’t moved. For all she’d said she hated Reban, when he looked as though he might sacrifice himself, she’d been rooted to the spot. If Lincoln hadn’t turned back and grabbed her, he wasn’t sure if she would have ever moved.

  He was almost sure that’s why Reban had stayed to fight – to save Storm. In an ideal world, Lincoln would like to think that Reban had been giving them all time to flee. But he doubted Reban cared about the rest of them, and generosity had never seemed part of the Chief Stipulator’s personality.

  While chatting on their trek to the raptor nest, they’d mentioned a few times, in passing, that Leif and Lincoln were the fastest runners. Storm had won the final Trial because of her knife-throwing skills – not because of her speed. Reban would have known she was at risk.

  Lincoln gave a wry smile. Both of them were continuing to pretend they didn’t care about each other. But their actions were telling him something else.

  And he still couldn’t decide if Reban was a plant or not. He didn’t say much, but when he did speak he didn’t seem to have much love for the Stipulators. Could the man really still be working for them?

  Lincoln looked up at the dark, perfectly clear night. It felt like if he reached his hand up, he could pluck the moon out of the sky. The sky in Ambulus City wasn’t like this. It felt so much more closed in and shut off. A bit like the rest of the continent. If Lincoln held his arms out in the cave back home he could touch either side of the damp walls. The dank wetness filled his lungs every night. Getting into the sweating, claustrophobic lab the next morning was actually sometimes a relief.

  Would the virus have any effect on the raptors at all? Could it actually kill them?

  He shifted subconsciously on his bedroll. Some of his thoughts were making him uncomfortable. What would his mother and Arta think of this place? Arta would have the remedy for the blistering plague at her fingertips. For the first time in months her life wouldn’t revolve around infected, bleeding lesions.

  The stars shone brightly above. Beside him, Leif moaned a little in his sleep and turned over. Leif hated this place. Hated it, and its inhabitants, beyond measure.

  But Lincoln wasn’t quite so sure how he felt any more. If the viruses actually worked and the predators were taken out of the equation, wouldn’t Piloria be a whole lot more attractive?

  The climate was different. So was the plant life and the soil. Things actually grew here. Different things. Edible things. And they weren’t rationed.

  Blaine had survived here for nine years. Nine years with no running water or power. He’d adapted. He’d learned how to make systems that worked for him. Couldn’t other people do the same?

  There was a sniff beside him and he turned on his side. Storm was curled in a ball, rocking back and forward with her eyes closed.

  “Hey,” he whispered, touching her shoulder. “What’s up?”

  Her eyes opened and she sighed. “I don’t know. I’m sore. I’m tired.” She sucked in a deep breath. “I’m worried.”

  Lincoln had opened his mouth to offer instant reassurance, but he stopped. Storm was worried? She didn’t do that. She didn’t show any vulnerability. She liked the world to think she was invincible.

  But she’d said those words out loud. To him. The guy who’d betrayed her for his family. Maybe they were finally getting back to an even keel.

  “What are you worried about?” he asked gently.

  She met his gaze. Under the moon’s glow, her violet eyes were so like Reban’s. “Dinosaurs. Blaine. And…the virus.”

  Lincoln frowned. “Okay, dinosaurs? Right there with you. Blaine?”

  She glanced in the direction of sleeping Jesa. Jesa had huddled her bedroll next to Leif’s so that he was within touching distance.

  Storm kept her voice at a whisper. “You know what he was like the last time, Linc. What if he’s worse? What if, even though we think he wants to see his family, after all this time he just can’t cope? What if…he’s bad to her?”

  Lincoln’s stomach coiled. “I didn’t expect her to come,” he admitted. “When they stopped me in the street…I just couldn’t lie. They were desperate, Storm. They wanted news. What gave me the right to keep it from them?”

  She nodded. “I know. But now…” She let her voice tail off.

  Lincoln took a deep breath. “He’s crazy. We both know he’s crazy. But is it just because he’s been left by himself? Or is it because he’s filled with grief about never seeing his family? Think about how long he’d treasured those sketches. Think about the way he looked at them.”

  Storm nodded and Lincoln instantly felt regret at his words. Her eyes glazed a little. She was thinking about her mother. He reached over and squeezed her shoulder. “It’s my fault Jesa is here. I’ll take responsibility. I’ll look after her. If Blaine can’t cope, I’ll take her away.”

  Storm shook her head determinedly. “No, it’s our responsibility. I just don’t know how to prepare her. I don’t think we can. I think we just have to wait and see how he is.” She stopped for a second.

  “What else?”

  She blinked and pressed her lips together. It was almost like she didn’t want to say the words.

  “You didn’t want us to find the eggs before. You didn’t want them to get the DNA. Is this about the virus?”

  She shook her head and an unexpected tear slid down her cheek. Lincoln was surprised. “Yes, and no. It is. But not the way you think.”

  Now he was really confused. “What do you mean?”

  She held up her hand. It was shaking. “I should be angry about the virus. I should have smashed those vials on the beach. But the whole time I’m here and looking over my shoulder, I’m wondering how much easier Piloria would be to live in without those dinosaurs. And now, instead of worrying about what we’re doing, I’m worrying about myself. How selfish is that?” She grimaced as she looked at her hand. “What if the virus doesn’t only affect dinosaurs?”

  Lincoln’s first
instinct was to shuffle backwards. But he tensed every muscle and refused to allow himself to do that. “You’re sure Leif got it on his hands?”

  She nodded. Tears were pooling in her eyes.

  He swallowed and touched her shoulder again. “You’re not selfish, Storm. Don’t you think I’ve had the same thoughts about this place? Do you think I like working in the lab and living in the caves? If the dinosaurs weren’t here, Piloria could be paradise. There. I’ve said it. I’ve said what the Stipulators have been saying all along. Does that make me a bad person?” He shook his head. “And the virus? Each lab worked on a specific virus for those specific dinosaurs. It shouldn’t be able to harm us. We’re an entirely different species.”

  He had left out the part about all the precautions the staff took in the lab. The fact they worked in separate air-pressurized rooms. The fact they all wore protective clothing and masks. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

  “Don’t worry. You’re safe. I’m sure of it.”

  He wasn’t. Of course he wasn’t. But how could he say that?

  But he’d put his trust in Lorcan. He had to believe that as a scientist, Lorcan would ensure his work didn’t harm humans.

  Storm blinked back her tears. He could tell she was angry that they’d been revealed. She kept parts of herself so hidden that Lincoln even wondered if she knew they existed.

  She pulled her blanket up over her shoulder. “Night, Lincoln,” she whispered.

  Lincoln turned on his back and looked up at the stars again. “Night, Storm,” he replied, as a shooting star sped across the dark sky.

  He could get used to this.

  They were all tired. Sweat was running down every part of her. The jungle seemed to be closing in around them.

  Storm turned for the hundredth time, trying to orientate herself. Every part of this jungle looked the same. Every trampled bush. Every broken twig. Every darn gigantic green leaf that smacked her in the face.

  They’d been in here for hours.

  Tramping first one way, then the other.

  The trouble was, last time they’d come here Blaine had led them from the cave to his home – his home in the middle of the jungle. They were sure they were in the right piece of jungle, but they didn’t know where to turn next. The only positive was that so far they hadn’t met any predators.

  “I think it’s this way,” said Leif, pointing to the left.

  “I think it’s this way,” said Lincoln, pointing to the right. He reached up and touched the enormous trunk of the tree he was standing next to. “This seems familiar.”

  Reban let out a choked laugh. “Really?” He held up his hands. “All these trees look the same.” He slapped the trunk nearest to him. “What makes this one different to the one next to you?”

  The scratching noise was unexpected. It was quickly followed by a head and short beak poking out from a bush and scrabbling along the ground just in front of them.

  Everyone froze, as the giant chicken-like creature emerged from the bushes. It was much bigger than the few scrawny remaining chickens back on Earthasia – almost half the size of a human. It had brown feathers on its thick body, short light-grey feathers on its elongated neck, a flash of red around the beak, oversized claws and prominent tail feathers.

  It was closest to Leif. While Leif’s body stayed frozen, his eyes widened and he glanced first at Storm and then Lincoln. It seemed as though they all remembered that apparently a dinosaur’s sight could be partially based on movement. But they couldn’t stay frozen for ever – not when they were so obviously exposed.

  “What is it?” hissed Lincoln.

  Everyone around Storm shrugged. “A giant chicken?” she mouthed. That’s what it looked like to her. She was curious now. Something about it seemed a little familiar, but she couldn’t place what.

  Reban smiled, his voice low. “Dinner. Anything’s better than the packs they gave us. Maybe we could try and catch it.”

  The creature seemed oblivious to them and started scratching around the ground – the same way the chickens did back on Earthasia.

  There was more rustling. More scraping. In the blink of an eye another appeared, then another and another. Within a few moments, around twelve of the creatures had emerged from the bushes.

  Storm could hear the beat of her heart in her ears. She started to feel just a little uneasy. Her brain was still trying to fathom what she could remember from the book in Octavius’s study. Very carefully, she turned her hands palm up, asking the silent question: What do we do?

  One of the newly-emerged creatures butted its head against Reban’s thigh. “Hey!” shouted Reban, an automatic response. Jesa let out a squeal.

  It was almost like flicking a switch somewhere. It seemed the creatures – whatever they were – reacted to sound and hunted in packs.

  Some surrounded Reban, the others surrounded Jesa.

  Leif was quick – he picked up his spear just as one of the creature’s claws slashed at Jesa’s hand and she let out another squeal.

  The creatures seemed to attack at once. Their wings were useless, but their claws fierce. Their short, stubby beaks ripped through Reban’s trousers before he had a chance to even move.

  His double-ended weapon came into contact with the first one at the same time as Leif thrust through the one closest to Jesa with his spear.

  Both animals let out high-pitched squeals. Within a few seconds more emerged from the bushes, surrounding them on all sides.

  Now Storm couldn’t stay quiet. She pulled a knife from her belt and threw it without stopping to think – but her aim was accurate, catching one beast in the neck, a spurt of red blood covering the closest tree. She looked around frantically. “There’s nowhere to go!” she yelled.

  It was true. She saw the rest of the team look around frantically. It wasn’t the size of the creatures, it was their number and the ferocity of their attack. Their claws were swiping with alarming precision. Blood had already stained Reban’s trousers and was smeared along Jesa’s arm.

  Reban’s eyes looked skyward. “Up!” he yelled. “We go up.”

  He jumped towards the nearest tree branch just as another three creatures tore at him with their angry beaks and hooking claws. He was right. There was no other way to go.

  Storm grabbed at the tree behind her, as Leif speared another beast and bent down to give Jesa a boost up the nearest tree.

  Lincoln charged, his axe above his head, swinging it wildly from side to side. Storm froze as she pulled herself up onto a branch. Why wasn’t he climbing too?

  Crunch. One creature’s head went flying past her, swiped clean by Lincoln’s axe.

  Leif’s eyes were wide. The creature’s body, its claw raised to rake at Leif’s head, shuddered and fell to the side. He gave the slightest shake. Lincoln had seen the danger before anyone else.

  Reban had only climbed to the first branch on his tree – high enough to be out of target range, but low enough to continue swiping at the creatures with his weapon.

  “Move!” screamed Lincoln to Leif, as he continued to brandish his axe.

  Leif gulped and scrambled up the nearest tree. But Lincoln couldn’t get clear of the pack to follow him.

  Jesa was now balancing on a branch with her crossbow loaded. Storm could see blood dripping from her elbow but from the determined look on Jesa’s face, no injury was going to stop her.

  Jesa nodded at her and started firing. Storm followed her lead, aiming her knives at the squawking creatures below.

  One. Two. Three.

  Down they fell. It seemed that the animals could attack in force, but had little manoeuvrability. From their higher point in the trees, the team had the advantage.

  Now that his friends were holding the creatures off, Lincoln leaped towards the nearest tree, swinging up to the first branch, then scrambling further up and sitting astride one of the stronger tree limbs.

  After a few moments, the creatures realized they’d lost their closest prey and turn
ed their focus on Reban sitting on his low branch, crowding around the bottom of his tree.

  Reban didn’t hesitate. The sword end of his weapon swiped fearlessly, injuring one after another, blood spraying the jungle floor.

  Storm looked down. Her knives were all gone. Hopefully she would have a chance to retrieve them.

  “Jesa, are you okay?” she shouted over.

  Jesa finally seemed to notice the blood dripping from her elbow. Her body shuddered as Leif leaned over to get better a look.

  “Lincoln?”

  He gave her a swift nod.

  The words caught in her throat. “Reban?”

  Reban took one final swipe at the last remaining creature below, missed, then laughed as it scrabbled off into the bushes.

  He stood up on his branch, turning around to give them all a clear view of his torn trousers, part of his bare, ripped flesh on show. “Oh, they got me all right. But not as much as I got them.”

  Storm gulped and looked at the carnage on the forest floor. She counted. Twelve creatures lay dead – or almost dead – at their feet.

  Jesa was visibly shaking. “What…what on earth are they?”

  Leif pulled a cloth from his backpack and tried to catch the blood dripping from her arm. “Here, wrap this around it.” He looked down and shook his head. “I have no idea what they are.” He wrinkled his nose. “I just assumed they were plant eaters when they appeared.”

  “That’ll teach us,” muttered Lincoln. “Just because it’s a chicken on Earthasia, doesn’t mean it’s a chicken here.”

  Reban pointed down. “The claws. Their hooks. You don’t have those kind of weapons if you’re a plant eater.”

  Storm tried to search her brain. “I’ve seen something like them.” Her gaze connected with Reban. “In one of Octavius’s books. This really old book full of sketches.” She screwed up her nose. “Something like…therizinosaurids? There was a drawing and a name, but nothing else. I assume the author didn’t know that much about them. What was his name? Magnus something…”