“Really? And when she’s gone, are you going to betray me again and send me back to the pits?”
His face formed a scowl, and he stared icy blue daggers back into her eyes. “I will do what I have to, no matter what you or anyone else thinks.”
“I see.” Her eyes narrowed and her lips retreated, revealing a predator like look. She scoffed. “It’s always about you isn’t it? You once asked me why the slaves hate you. Well, this is it.”
~~~
Late that night Merrick entered my room. In his hands, he clutched a backpack and my staff.
“I packed you some dried food, survival supplies, and a blanket.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
He grabbed my shoulders. I pulled back, but his grip tightened like a steel vise. “I know you’re angry with me, and I don’t blame you, but I did NOT choose you to die.” He let me go. “I chose you, because everything we have trained for has led us to this moment.”
“And just what am I supposed to do?”
He handed me the backpack. “Survive, and make it to Devron City.”
“Why? What is it you’re not telling me?”
Merrick turned away. “Follow the river south past the destroyed human city. The first farm you’ll come to is owned by an Exog named Cradlo. He has the answers you seek.”
“And if I don’t?”
He whipped around, his eyes narrow, cold, and harsh. “Then you’ll condemn every slave to this hell for all eternity.” He swallowed hard and softened his gaze. “Follow the bank of the forbidden river to the culvert. Here’s the key to the grate.”
He stretched out his hand. The key dangled on a long, beaded chain.
I swatted it from me. “I’m not the foolish little girl I once was. The Targ guards that patrol on top of the wall will spot me before I even get close.”
“I’ve arranged a distraction, but I need an hour to set it up.” He put the key in a pocket of my pack. “When you find Cradlo, tell him ‘I am Lumenara, daughter of Gaia.’“
“What does she—”
“Then say ‘Eighteen of twenty-three pairs, sequence five, seven dash two thousand and three.’. Repeat it.”
“What?”
“Say it!” His red veined eyes burned with desperation.
“Eighteen of twenty-three pairs,” I said quickly. “Sequence five, seven dash two thousand and three.”
“Good, Cradlo will know what to do.” He passed me my staff. “Draks isn’t expecting you to escape till morning. If you leave now, you’ll have an eight-hour head start.”
I gripped my staff, lacquered smooth from six years of my own blood and sweat. Without his, Merrick was just a weak old man.
With a thrust of my staff, I threw Merrick against the wall and pressed the center to his throat. I wanted to kill him right there. Not because of the training or the pain, but for tricking me into loving him, only to stab me in the back.
“Go ahead,” he rasped. “It’ll make your escape all the more convincing.”
I leaned forward, my rage consuming me.
Lies. It was all lies.
With one hand, he pressed my staff forward and whistled a soft melody.
I froze.
I know that song.
With his other hand, he pulled a carved wooden rod out from behind his back.
My flute.
Ever since he gave it to me, I tried to recreate the tune Lumenara played when I was baby, but it always felt incomplete.
I took a step back and Merrick played the notes I struggled to remember. Then his hand turned. He wore a silver ring I’d never seen him wear before. It had three round blood-red jewels, and they shimmered in the pale moonlight.
That ring… No!
My body shook.
You’re not him. You’re not.
He handed me my flute.
“Run hard, my child,” he whispered, “and don’t look back.”
CHAPTER 8
I crept down the stairs and into the kitchen. Indigo stood near the south door with a coat on.
“What are you doing?” she said. “You’re not supposed to escape until morning.”
I almost didn’t hear her. My mind too preoccupied with what he told me.
It can’t be him. It can’t.
“Quickly now. You need to get back to your room and rest.” She tugged on my hand, but I remained still. “What’s wrong, child?”
“Merrick told me to escape by the culvert in the wall. He’s planning a distraction to get me past the guards.” I stared into her dark eyes. My stomach churned. I had to tell someone before my head exploded. “He—he said he’s my father.”
Her shoulders jolted back and her eyebrows rose. “Your father? That’s not possible. None of us have mothers or fathers. We’re all born in Devron City and trained by the Exogs.”
“Not me. I was born here. I spent my childhood in the cellar.”
Indigo’s eyes widened, and she took a step back. “The rats…” she whispered. “How do you know he’s your father?”
“I found a book with my name on it, in a hidden chamber where he used to teach me. Inside was a pencil sketch of a baby’s hand clutching a man’s finger. On the finger was a ring and Merrick was wearing the same ring tonight.”
“A ring?” She tilted her head. “A three jeweled ruby ring set in a silver band?”
“Yes.”
“Her gift to him.” Indigo shook her head. “That makes no sense. If you’re his daughter then why would he choose you?” Her mouth dropped open. “Unless he was sending you to the Gaia Sanctum…” She hyperventilated and her lips curled into a smile.
“Unless he’s sending me where?” I grabbed her arm. “Please, I’m so confused. I don’t even know who I am anymore.”
Her eyes shifted from one side to the other and she pushed me away. “Let me think about this and we’ll talk in the morning.”
But, I won’t be here in the morning.
She headed toward the backdoor.
“Where are you going?”
“To the servant’s room.”
I pointed to the hallway. “The servant’s room is that way.”
She froze.
“Of course it is.” She turned and headed down the hall.
I stood still for a few moments. A stupor of thought followed by a creepy clamminess came over me, like wrapping my hands around a warm dead fish. Was she lying to me? That night, I didn’t get that feeling with Merrick, but I did with her.
I opened the backdoor and crept behind the storage shed. A few minutes later, Indigo left the house. She pushed through some mulberry bushes in the garden and I followed her down a worn path I’d never seen before.
She crossed the river, and I poked my head around one of the trees by the bank. From there she marched straight to the Targ guards at the main gate.
The guards stepped forward. “Hold it right there, slave.”
“Oh please,” she said putting a hand on her hip. “You know who I am. I must speak with Draks. It’s urgent.”
Draks?
“Draks will be awake in the morning. You can talk with him then.”
“The information I have can’t wait until then.”
“Then tell me and I’ll decide if I should wake him.”
She cocked her head and put her hands on her hips. “And no doubt you’ll take credit for it as well. Not a chance. This information is my ticket out of this hellhole. Now fetch me Draks.”
The guard unholstered his weapon. “I don’t like your tongue, slave. I suggest you crawl back to the house before we have an,” he licked his protruding yellow teeth, “accident.”
“Moron,” she huffed and turned back to the hidden path.
My heart beat faster and I bared my teeth. I followed her as she wandered up the path. She muttered something about stopping me at the culvert before I jumped in front of her, my hands strangling my staff ready to strike.
“Fives? How did you—”
&n
bsp; “You were going to betray me to them.” I ground my teeth. “I trusted you.”
She raised her hands. “It’s not what you think.”
“Then what is it?”
She put a foot behind her and bit her lower lip before leaping down the path toward the gate.
“Guard!”
I rushed in front of her and swung at her head. Blood splattered from her forehead and she collapsed. Yet to my surprise, she started laughing.
“It was you. All this time, the answer Draks searched for was right in front of me, and I didn’t see it.”
I knelt down and turned her around to face me. Her eyes bulged and her mouth frothed.
“What are you talking about?”
“I thought Merrick banished me to the pits for not delivering Lumenara’s message.” She continued to cackle in delirium. “But it was because I endangered you.” Her hate filled gaze glared back at me. “The rat in the cellar.”
“Lumenara’s message? You…”
Indigo, hurry! A soft voice echoed.
I staggered up. The memory of that day roared back. Lumenara confronting Draks. The seconds ticking away and yet Merrick never came until it was too late.
“You’re responsible for Lumenara’s death?”
Her lips twisted into a wicked smile and she bolted up. She yanked out a kitchen knife from her sleeve and slashed at me. I jumped back, and she hurled herself forward, swinging the knife in frantic arcs.
I took a wide stance and with an upward thrust, I smashed her hand. The knife flew backward, and I swung my staff at her head. Blood burst from her eye socket and she fell to the ground convulsing.
You killed Lumenara!
As my guilt faded, my earliest memories flooded over me; images of us playing, giving me my rag doll, brushing my hair each night. Memories I tried so hard to forget.
Mama?
My teeth clenched and a boiling rage inside my mind consumed me. I raised my staff and struck Indigo’s skull until it exploded, scattering blood and bits of pink gore across the grass.
It was the first time I had killed anyone.
Her bloodied body laid limp on the ground with a ragged crimson and pink stump for a head. I couldn’t believe what I had done. I turned my hands over. Splotches of blood drained down my arms and dripped from my fingers.
My muscles tightened, and I began to breathe in short gasps. I had to get away from there. I didn’t care where.
The culvert.
I needed to get to the culvert and escape.
I fled down the path to the forbidden river.
I was in survival mode, only thinking of the next task I needed to do and avoiding the jumble of emotions inside me. If I didn’t, my feelings of anger and betrayal, fear and terror might have ripped me apart.
Lies. Everything about me was a lie.
There, on top of the wall, spaced about every ten paces were the Targ guards. Their bright spot lights, probing the darkness under them. I hunkered down and waited, my mind torn.
I knew it. Merrick has betrayed me as well.
Minutes passed and my body shook, like a compressed spring waiting to jump forward. Merrick, where are you?
A whistling sound, like an arrow pierced the air above me and one of the Targ lights went out.
A group of slaves emerged, taunting the guards and throwing rocks. Rope ladders descended, and the guards climbed down the wall. It was my chance.
I burst out of hiding and ran to the culvert.
The slaves screamed as their skull stars glowed and they scattered. I inserted the key and turned.
“What are you doing off the wall!” Merrick shouted.
I froze.
“Your slaves,” a voice hissed, “are being disruptive and will be punished.”
“The law states…”
I ignored him and slipped through the grate.
~~~
All night I ran following the river, never looking back, the full moon lighting my path.
One question drove me.
Who am I?
Another question smoldered.
Merrick, Lumenara could they be?
But I banished it each time it entered my heart.
At dawn, the sun rose behind a veil of dark clouds and I arrived at the outskirts of the human city, or what was left of it. Not a single building stood. Husks of crumbling brick walls leaned against tall trees. Concrete and rubble were strewn everywhere, overgrown with vines and prickly weeds. The sunlight lit up the ominous sky in hues of orange and dull reds making it appear as if the ruined landscape was on fire.
I shrank back from the terrifying sight.
Thunder struck and a pounding rain fell. My legs burned with a pain I could no longer ignore, so I searched for some kind of shelter. Alongside one of the cratered streets leaned a corner of twisted metal. I crept inside and made my way down a creaking staircase.
Lightning flashed, and a shadow jumped out. I flung my staff forward, my hair standing on the back of my neck. When my vision cleared, I saw two skeletons seated on the floor against the wall, the smaller one wrapped in the bony embrace of the other.
My heart raced, and I backed out into a shower of icy water falling from the wrecked ceiling.
I gasped and stepped forward. I’d have to stay there, at least until the rain stopped. I gathered the shattered remains of a wooden chair and searched for something to start a fire.
One hand of the larger skeleton curled around a small book. The paper would help, so I got on my knees, stretched forth my arm, and snatched it. I opened the weathered brown leather cover. The pages were yellow and bubbled with age, but still dry. A faint curly handwriting caught my eye.
‘Sara Williams Journal’ it read.
Something familiar about that last name teased in the back of my mind. I knew I’d seen it before, but couldn’t picture where.
Curiosity took hold and drove out my exhaustion. I sat against the concrete wall and flipped through the pages until a worn picture fell out. The image was still visible, despite the faded colors, so I picked it up.
It was a family of four. A mother seated on an ornate chair with a red velvet cushion holding a baby. I assumed a girl from the washed-out pink outfit. The father stood tall behind with a young son next to him. Both the mother and the son had blond hair and blue eyes just like mine. An uncanny resemblance radiated from her face, especially the eyes. I turned to the final page.
March 12, 2107
Our town is surrounded and we’ve no place to go. Over the radio, we heard the Americans have just surrendered which leaves only the Chinese Army. Johnathan has left me to join the other men. They are going to engage the Targs and try to draw them away, so we can escape and head north to the Chinese. I begged him to stay, but he insisted…
March 14
The attack by our husbands has failed. Those who didn’t die were captured and taken away. Where we do not know. Julia was watching from the top of the apartment building and said Johnathan was among those who survived. Part of me is thrilled he’s still alive, but I’m also heartbroken. The children ask about him all the time. What am I to tell them? Oh Johnathan, why did you have to leave us…
March 16
The Targs have begun shelling the town block by block and driving us out into the open like rats. Our building was hit, but somehow the boiler-room we were hiding in remained standing. From the tiny street level window, I watched a group of women and children try to surrender to them. They shot the women and girls and took the boys away. We’re out of food and I nearly suffocated Jessica to stop her from crying when another Targ patrol passed by…
March 22
We’re starving to death, and I’ve no more milk to feed Jessica. We’re surviving off the filthy water from the boiler tank. Targs are everywhere, searching the rubble for survivors. My children no longer cry when an explosion sounds or when the screams of others break the silence. Sam looks so thin, I fear he will waste away in front of me if we don’t get so
mething to eat.
Writing this journal, somehow keeps me sane. Reminds me I’m still alive. Tonight I’m going to—
The letters trailed off.
They are coming—
CHAPTER 9
I flipped to the next page, but there was no more writing. My arm holding the book collapsed.
My God.
I looked again at the skeletons, but there were only two skulls.
What happened to her son?
Was he captured? His blond hair… Could he be my ancestor?
The pile of bones no longer repulsed me and I pitied them. I put her journal in my backpack. Her story deserved to be told. I leaned back and wrapped myself in a thin blanket. The sweet embrace of sleep overtook me at once, and I awoke hours later in a panic.
After a meal of dried potatoes and nuts, I ran again, staying close to the bank of the river. All day I ran, and into the night. My legs wobbled as I drove myself forward. I didn’t dare rest again because of how much time I had lost sleeping in the building.
When I came to a field of potatoes, I rested on my staff and grinned. I was close. At the top of a rise were three worn, red wooden buildings. I went to the largest and hid within, between a long waist-high plastic bin and some shelves. Sleep pressed against me and my stomach thundered, demanding to be fed.
I rummaged through my sweat-soaked backpack, when the door slid open.
My heart jumped into my throat, and I grabbed my staff.
A four-foot-tall, tan, hairless tri-ped with a large bulbous head and three eyes entered. In one of his three fingered hands, he held a lantern and in the other, a small crossbow like device.
I staggered up, my staff ready to strike.
“Humph, another Hu-man,” his crackled voice said. “No doubt one of Merrick’s slaves.”
His limbs were rail thin, and he had a skull star just above his middle eye. If not for the crossbow, even in my weakened state I could dispatch him with a single hit.
“Be-gone with you.” He waved with his weapon to the sliding door. “I have no interest in Targ trouble tonight.”
HIDDEN: A Dystopian Science Fiction Adventure Page 5
