Exile

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Exile Page 23

by S. M. Wilson


  Storm pressed her lips together. Oh, to have five minutes with her mother again. To ask her the questions that she would now. To ask her about Octavius and Reban. To find out what she thought about them – to find out what she would think about Storm now. She hated that there was no opportunity to do that.

  She blinked back tears and concentrated on the landscape ahead. They were heading for yet another patch of jungle. This one looked identical to the other three they’d thought might hold Blaine’s shack. It turned out having been on Piloria before wasn’t always as much of a help as it should be.

  She was beginning to understand the terrain a little better though. The trickling streams, the hills, the distant mountains. It was so vast that there were parts which had never been explored. The desert. The marshes – but she’d no wish to be near those. There was a valley that the diplodocuses seemed to favour. It was beautiful. They seemed such docile creatures. Sociable and parental. And if they couldn’t kill her with one swish of their tails she might actually think that would be a good place to set up camp.

  There was a crop of trees ahead with fruit hanging from some of the branches. She reached up to grab one, rubbing it against her leg. It was an unusual shape, not round like an apple, it was almost like someone had pulled one end of the fruit to make it longer. She bit into it, and gave a yelp as the juice ran down her chin. The others were watching her, waiting to see what she made of the latest find.

  She almost choked on how sweet it was. She laughed. “Fill up your backpacks. I could eat these all day.”

  They all grabbed some, then tramped on through the jungle, still trying to find Blaine’s shack.

  “This place does look more familiar,” murmured Leif. He ran his hands across the bark of some of the trees.

  “I think I smell something,” said Reban.

  Right on cue they all lifted their noses in the air and sniffed. But this time the smell wasn’t evergreen. Instinctively Lincoln lifted the axe in his hand. There was something in the air. A hint. A tang.

  Their voices fell silent. Now they all watched where they put their feet, trying not to crunch twigs too loudly, or to let branches crack as they pushed their way through.

  The smell was getting stronger. There was a horrible familiarity about it.

  And they all recognized it. The smell of death.

  Every hair on Storm’s body stood on end. Jesa might not have known the smell straight away, but it didn’t take long for recognition to hit. She didn’t make a sound, but Storm watched a single tear of fear trickle down her cheek.

  Please don’t let it be Blaine. Please don’t let it be Blaine.

  It wasn’t as if people didn’t die on Earthasia – the blistering plague took care of that. But because the city was so populated, no death went unnoticed for long and bodies were disposed of fast. Piloria was almost at the other end of the spectrum; add in the higher temperature…and the smell of death quickly became putrid.

  They were practically tiptoeing now. On one hand, it might make more sense to turn around and head in the opposite direction. On the other – they all knew they had to find out what the source of the smell was.

  If it was one of the other team members, they would have to send the news home to the family.

  Storm pressed her lips together and willed the rising bile away from the back of her throat. The last thing she wanted to do right now was be sick.

  Lincoln shot a glance at Leif and they both wordlessly took the lead. Her heart swelled a little in her chest: both of them were trying to protect Jesa. Reban seemed to understand what they were doing, and he moved directly in front of Jesa too, as if to block her view from anything that might lie ahead.

  The thick jungle seemed to thin a little around them. The stench was stronger every second, rancid. Storm closed her eyes. She couldn’t take this. If a human body was causing this smell, the sight would be too distressing for words.

  Lincoln waved with his hand, gesturing for the rest of them stop.

  He and Leif moved forward again, disappearing out of view.

  By now, Storm had her hand over her mouth and nose. She gagged. She couldn’t help it.

  Reban gave a little jolt, as if something had just occurred to him, then the frown disappeared from his face and he strode forward, following Leif and Lincoln.

  A few seconds later there was a shout. “All clear. Come on.”

  Storm’s heart gave a leap. It wasn’t Blaine! Jesa’s shoulders slumped in relief, but her footsteps were still tentative.

  Storm pushed forward, sweeping the remaining dark-green leaves away with her free hand, and stepped out into a sort of clearing.

  Her eyes immediately started watering. The sight was disgusting. On the ground in front of them was the swollen, bloated corpse of a velociraptor. Its head was at a peculiar angle, its mouth and eyes open.

  Jesa vomited all over her boots.

  Reban walked around it slowly in a circle.

  Leif just shook his head. “Man, that stinks.”

  Storm kept her hand firmly over her mouth.

  “Let’s go,” said Lincoln.

  Reban held his hand up. “Wait.”

  “Why?” Storm gagged again. She couldn’t bear to be around this any longer.

  Reban obviously didn’t have a normal sense of smell. He didn’t have his hand over his nose like the rest of them. He had his hands on his hips. “How did it die?” he asked.

  “Something killed it,” said Lincoln quickly.

  “No.” Reban shook his head.

  Storm stopped looking away and shot a glance back at the bloated corpse. The grey skin was stretched with what looked like trapped air. Some kind of insects had taken root in the mouth and eyes. But there was no huge open wound. No visible signs of a predatory attack. There were some slighter wounds around the legs – but they looked as if they’d been made by some smaller creatures, and probably after the raptor had died.

  Storm’s eyes widened. “Do you think it was the virus? The watering hole? That was only a day ago.”

  They all exchanged glances. Reban held up his hands. “I’m not sure what else could have caused it to die.” He wiped some sweat from his head. “From the temperature, I would think that things will smell bad pretty quickly around here.” He looked around. “Trouble is, I’ve no idea where we are in relation to the watering hole.”

  “Can we just move?” choked Jesa. “This smell is terrible.”

  Reban nodded in agreement. “We should probably move. If we can smell this, other predators can smell it. It will attract scavengers. We should be careful.”

  The stench was bringing tears to Storm’s eyes. “Yes, let’s go.” She went in the direction that Reban pointed, because she had no idea where they were anyway.

  Reban fell into step beside her. Lincoln led the way, watching carefully as they trekked through the jungle.

  Storm glanced sideways at Reban. Her stomach churned. “Do you really think it was the poison?”

  Reban met her gaze. “I hope so.”

  “You do?” It came out much more squeakily than she wanted.

  He nodded. “Of course. If the virus really works, then Piloria will be a safer place for me, and for Blaine.” He lowered his voice. “If he’s still around.”

  She felt sick. “’Can it really have taken hold so quickly?”

  Reban shrugged. “There was no other sign. That raptor hadn’t been attacked by another dinosaur. Unless it just fell over on its own, there is a chance that the virus did its work.”

  Storm stopped walking and sucked in a deep breath. “Do you really think that will make Piloria a safer place? What if the virus kills them too quickly and doesn’t get a chance to spread? Those can’t be the only raptors on the continent. Same with the T-rexes and the pterosaurs.” She flung up her hands. “If the viruses only kill a handful of dinosaurs, what difference will that really make?”

  Just then, Lincoln increased his pace ahead of them. “Come on,” he shou
ted.

  Storm began to jog, the evergreen smell starting to surround her. That’s what Lincoln had noticed. They might be near Blaine’s hideaway after all.

  After that, it didn’t take long to find the shack. Jesa ran ahead, pushing her way inside. “Dad!” Her exclamation sent a wave of relief through Storm’s body.

  They crowded in behind Jesa. “You’re okay?” Leif asked.

  Blaine was sitting on the floor of the shack, mixing up some new ointment. “Of course I’m okay. I’ve been dodging these dinosaurs for years.” He gave a wave of his hand. “I wondered where you’d all got to.”

  The hurt was written all over Jesa’s face. She put her hand over her mouth and pushed her way back out of the shack. Storm dropped her backpack on the floor and followed Jesa out.

  Jesa was sitting on the log outside, shaking her head. Storm sat down beside her. She didn’t talk, she just reached over and squeezed Jesa’s hand.

  She kept a hold of it as she finally spoke. “I should have warned you. I wasn’t sure how much you remembered about your dad.”

  Jesa frowned. “Should have warned me about what? That one second I would be the most important thing on the planet, the next he would just ignore me?”

  Jesa’s words made Storm cringe. “I only met him for a few days. He seemed passionate about getting a message to or from your mother and his family. But…” She paused as she tried to find a way to say it. “He wasn’t that good around people. We weren’t exactly sure why. He kind of hinted he didn’t want us around and that he was glad when we were leaving.”

  “But what does that mean?” A tear rolled down Jesa’s cheek.

  Storm shook her head. “I don’t know. I asked Reban—”

  “You mean, your dad?” Jesa looked annoyed now. “You never call him that. Why don’t you ever call him your dad? You know that he is.”

  Storm kept shaking her head. “But I can’t call him that. It doesn’t seem right. I hardly know him.”

  “And whose fault is that?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Jesa held up her hands. “He wants to talk to you – I can tell. He saved you from the raptors. And you had two of them saving you from the dilophosaurus. He watches you all the time. Sometimes, when he knows you’re not paying attention, he gives this…this kind of proud smile. As if you’re doing and saying exactly what he’d expect you to.”

  Storm stood up and waved her hand. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. This isn’t about me, it’s about you.”

  But Jesa shook her head. She stood up too, so they were virtually nose to nose, and pointed towards the shack. “I had a whole host of dreams about what my father would be like. Is it his fault he doesn’t live up to them?” She shook her head and put her hand on her heart. “It’s enough I’ve met him again. It’s enough I can go home and tell my mum and Caleb that he misses them, that he loves them and he still has a picture of us all that he’s drawn. They don’t need to know the rest. They don’t need to know he’s agitated. They don’t need to know he seems to have a cut-off point. I don’t understand it – how could I expect them to?”

  Tears were falling down Jesa’s face, and Storm reached out to her and wrapped her arms around her neck. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I didn’t prepare you better for this. I just didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t sure he’d still be the same. I don’t know…I just thought, once he actually met you—”

  “His whole personality would change?” Jesa smiled as she pulled back and wiped the tears from her face. “I was too young before to know what he was really like. And we only ever saw him for short periods of time. I guess I didn’t really understand. I guess all memories of my father were wrapped up in the mystery of him being a Stipulator and being taken away from us.”

  Her warm brown eyes met Storm’s. She pressed her lips together, taking a second to collect her thoughts. “But you have a whole other chance.”

  “What?”

  Jesa nodded. “I don’t want to be blunt, but I still have my mother and my brother, even after I leave Dad here. You don’t. Reban is all the family you’ve got left.”

  Octavius’s face swarmed into her mind. Her great-uncle. But Jesa didn’t know about him. “And?”

  Jesa held up her hands. “Then you have about one day left to get to know your dad. We’ll be heading back to the pterosaur nest tomorrow, and then along the coast to meet the ship. You barely have any time left at all. Stop being so stubborn! Talk to him. Find out more about him.”

  Storm put her hands on her hips. Jesa was setting every one of her nerves on edge. “I have spoken to him.”

  Jesa rolled her eyes and gave a quirky smile. “Maybe a little. But you’re still holding back, I can tell.” She sighed and pushed her curls out of her face. “I’m going to go back in there and try to get my father to remember I’m actually here. I’m going to see if I can persuade him to write a note to my mother. That would mean the world to her.” She tilted her chin. “He only has to put up with us for a short spell. Whether he likes it or not, he’ll have to suck it up.”

  Storm gave a smile as Jesa turned on her heel with an angry toss of her mad curls.

  Sometimes Jesa reminded Storm of herself.

  He couldn’t sleep. It didn’t help that he could hear constant murmurs coming from Blaine in the shack about “too many people”. And even though his whole back was covered in ointment, every part of it still stung. The acid spray was almost as painful as a T-rex bite.

  Lincoln had so many plans in his head. Once he got back to Earthasia, he would talk to Lorcan about growing these plants. The lab managed all growing of food, because the soil was so devoid of nutrients due to overuse. It didn’t matter that the plants probably needed a warmer and more humid environment – Lorcan could help create that. Lincoln had some plant specimens already. If he could collect a few more and keep them safe during the transport back on the ship, he was sure they could grow the plants and make the ointment back on Earthasia.

  In the meantime, he’d spent most of the night following Blaine’s instructions and making as much of the ointment as he could. It was a fail-safe. If something happened to the plants he would still have enough ointment for Arta, for Lorcan’s daughter and for Rune’s brother and sister. While the others slept, he used the time to fill their backpacks with ointment. This way, if something happened to him, one of them could still get the cure home.

  Leif woke early in the morning. He disappeared for a few minutes to wash in the nearby stream then sat down next to the fire, taking some scraps of paper from his backpack. He smiled when he spotted the stash of ointment. “Getting us ready?” he asked.

  Lincoln nodded. “We don’t have much time here. Makes no sense to waste it.”

  He wrinkled his brow as Leif pulled out some graphite and started to sketch. “What are you doing? I didn’t know you could draw.”

  Leif shrugged. “That’s because I didn’t tell you. Anyway, paper is hard to come by. I’m just making use of what there is.”

  Lincoln leaned over to glance at Leif’s work. His fingers moved swiftly, the graphite quickly capturing the outline of a face. In only a few minutes, he had sketched the contours, the light and shade, the tiny lines, the strands of hair, the ragged, earth-worn look.

  “You’re sketching Blaine? Why?” Lincoln was surprised. It wasn’t quite what he expected. Leif had captured so much of Blaine’s essence – but although he’d outlined the almond shape of Blaine’s eyes, he’d left the detail until last.

  Leif sighed and put down the graphite.

  “What’s up?” said Lincoln quietly. “You’re almost done.”

  “How true do I make it?” Leif had a troubled expression on his face.

  “What do you mean?”

  Leif held up the graphite. “The eyes. They are the most important part. People say that the eyes capture the soul, and I think they’re right.”

  “So why haven’t you finished?”r />
  Leif pulled a face. “You know that look that Blaine gets in his eyes. That mad, far-off look. Is that what I want to give Jesa to show to her mother and brother? Do I really want to capture the true Blaine?”

  Lincoln shook his head straight away. “No. Not at all.” He looked back at what Leif had already drawn. He examined it a little closer. It wasn’t quite as accurate as he’d first thought. “I think you’ve already answered that question.” He gave a smile as he pointed. “The hair isn’t quite as wild as it is in real life, and you’ve made his clothes look a little more normal – less patchwork, less dishevelled. I guess you already knew what you were doing.”

  Leif gave a conciliatory nod and quickly finished the eyes. They were accurate but there was no spark, no essence to them, they were quite flat.

  But now Lincoln understood why. “It’s good,” he said. “But there’s something else.”

  Leif looked up as he set the paper on the log next to them. “What?”

  “You didn’t see Kayna or Caleb, Jesa’s mum and brother, and I can’t describe them well enough for you to draw. But you could capture Jesa. You could give Blaine an up-to-date picture of his daughter. Do you have any paper left?”

  “I have one piece.” Leif pulled it from his backpack. It was slightly crumpled and he took a few moments to flatten it. This time when he lifted the graphite, his hands flew. It only took him a few minutes to capture Jesa. Her wild curls, the laughter in her almond-shaped eyes, the determined tilt of her chin. Lincoln gave Leif a suspicious smile. “Wow, it’s perfect. It’s absolutely Jesa. Every bit of her.”

  Leif gave an appreciative nod. “Good. Hopefully Blaine will like it.” He wandered a little further away to collect some fruit.

  Around them the others started to wake. Reban groaned, spending a few minutes stretching out his back. Storm sat straight upright, her eyes going immediately to the entrance of the shack.

 

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