“With any luck,” he said huskily, “we’ll be able to continue that sometime in the very near future.”
Drawing a ragged breath, she nodded. With a flick of his fingers he brushed her loosened hair out of her eyes. “Time to go. We can’t wait any longer.”
“I know.” Hallie glanced to the darkened corridor beyond the common room. She strode quickly in that direction, listening for any sound of approach. Nothing.
Burke pushed past her. “I’ll go. I know you won’t want to leave without making certain. I’ll be right back.”
He trotted silently into the shadows, despite the burden of the pack on his back. Shoving her hand into her pocket, Hallie turned the delicate structure of Calypso’s bracelet, awaiting the return of the three of them together. In the quiet she heard a sound she recognized from the arboretum at home, that of leaves moving in an unseen, unfelt wind. Listening to the noise, she waited, hoping, hoping, hoping. But when Burke returned, he came alone.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She let her breath out, releasing her hold on the bracelet. A flare of grief at the loss of a new friend washed over her and was gone. She could do nothing more than she’d done. Time to leave.
Burke took her hand, guiding her to the place where he had piled broken debris against the tree’s enormous bulk to effectuate the climb up onto the top. He scrambled up first without apparent effort and leaned down to assist her. The fissures in the bark were deep, providing enough hold to secure hands and feet and elbows and knees. Even so, the rough bark cut immediately into her palms. They would both be bleeding before they reached the bottom. What the scent might attract she didn’t dare dwell on.
Once on top, she couldn’t stand upright due to the sharp edges of the shattered ceiling. Crouched beside Burke, she nodded at him. He touched his hand lightly to the side of her neck before preceding her down the tree. Hallie gave him enough room to ensure she wouldn’t impede his movement before following the steep angle of descent. Before long she felt the drag of it at her muscles. She kept her respiration steady, moved slowly and carefully, and did not look around. She wasn’t ready to see the darkness into which they were descending.
“Rest,” she heard Burke say beneath her, and she halted, lying on her belly on the tree’s broad surface. Hallie looked up at Zebulon prison, a building elevated by unknown means and too vast to encompass in its entirety in the dark. Shattered, now, and lightless. Despite that, the menace of it loomed in palpable threat.
“Let’s go on,” she said to Burke.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Yes, I am.”
His hand curved around her ankle in a reassuring squeeze. Fitting her fingers and the toes of her boots comfortably into found crevices, Hallie pushed upward from her prone position and looked around. Rank after rank of behemoth growth rose up in fantastic proportion, vanishing into the gloom in the near distance. Whatever else was out there, she couldn’t see it. No doubt they would know what existed in this world before long.
In the meantime they were still a long way from the tree’s base. Steadying her nerves, she followed the man who had betrayed her—but into whose hands she now willingly placed her life—down into the deep and emerald twilight.
EMERALD TWILIGHT – SEASON THREE
HUNTERS IN THE DARK
I.
THE HUNTED BELOW
After ascertaining the ground wasn’t so soft they would sink irretrievably into it, Burke reached up to assist Hallie in climbing down through the tangled, shattered root system of the massive tree. They’d had to descend into the clustered roots and damp soil in order to reach the ground. The darkness beneath, together with the massive breadth, made it seem more like they had entered some type of underground labyrinth. Grasping Hallie’s waist, Burke lifted her through a particularly difficult passage to the other side. The soft whoosh of noise she made alerted him to the fact she was hurting.
“Are you all right?”
“Yep.” But she wasn’t. He knew she wasn’t.
Not for the first time, Burke found himself torn over his decision to take Hallie with him. There was no easy answer. The choice had ultimately been hers and, at any rate, it was too late now to go back. The climb had been exhausting for him. He really didn’t expect Hallie to be able to return to the top even if he could convince her it was for the best. The injuries she was keeping secret from him would prevent her from doing so.
No, this was it. Their chosen course. They were escapees from a multi-jurisdictional facility. He didn’t want to think about what the punishment would be if they were caught.
“Are you able to go on now?” he asked after they’d rested. “Hallie?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Let’s go.”
Leading the way, he held one of her hands in his so as not to lose her in the dark. He lifted his other arm to push away the hanging, hairy tendrils of the finer roots. As they stepped out from under the root ball, the oppressive gloom lifted, but barely.
Burke turned Hallie’s hands over in his own and eyed her abraded palms, where shallow smears of crimson oozed across her skin. Fortunately, it appeared there was little wind this close to the surface to carry the scent of blood very far. Of course, that was based on the optimistic assumption the creatures in this place hunted by scent. As a precaution he removed a strip of cloth from the pocket of his uniform to staunch the flow and then discarded the cloth in the soil, pressing it deep with the toe of his boot. “Are you sure you’re able to continue?”
Hallie nodded, respiration loud. “It’s a bit late for anything else, wouldn’t you say?” Though unnerved, her tremulous smile was genuine. She wasn’t overwhelmingly frightened, he supposed, but certainly on edge. Why not? So was he.
He reached up and pushed the hair back from her forehead, pressing his lips to the smooth surface of her sweating brow. “Rest a bit more, then we’ll go on.”
Standing beside her as she hunkered over her heels close to the ground, he listened for noises beyond their own. The lack of activity from above led him to believe the prison was still without power. He wondered briefly how Calypso and Emil fared, then dismissed them from his mind. He couldn’t afford to waste energy in concern over their well-being. If they did as they were told—biding their time in the library until power was restored—the two of them should be fine. He had more immediate concerns to occupy him. Hearing nothing in the vast forest but the sighing of the wind at a great distance overhead didn’t mean they were alone.
They had no weapons worth a damn. To hone the eating utensils he had brought with them to killing points would take time. Evens so, effective utilization of a sharpened knife would mean that any attacking creature would have to be close enough to kill them as well. Given what he had witnessed of the two embattled creatures through the panel, they might have to contend with more dangerous issues than proximity.
Burke closed his eyes, cataloguing probable dangers while dismissing the character of fear. He needed to be cautious and prepared, not afraid. He had to force himself to view Hallie’s safety as a lesser consideration than his own to ensure he was able to protect her. He had to.
“Burke.”
Lifting his lids, he looked down at her face, pale and washed in the strange, green cast of the forest gloom. She jerked her chin.
“Right there.”
Following her gaze, he pivoted slowly on his heel. Approximately twice his height from the ground on the nearest tree a pair of yellow orbs gleamed faintly, moving as if fixed on the end of some sort of biological protrusion. Muscles tightening, he searched peripherally for a branch within reach he might be able to snatch up. A club was better than nothing. He grabbed the nearest broken root end and twisted it. The wood, still green with life, merely bent. The eyes blinked out of existence, reappearing at double the previous height, quickly followed by a flicker of motion as the black shadow of the creature skittered away up the tree, vanishing from sight.
Hallie spoke quietly behind hi
m. “It’s very difficult not to be concerned when you can’t even see what’s looking at you.”
Burke’s mouth twisted in grim amusement. At another sound, he turned around to find Hallie on her knees searching the ground. “What are you doing?”
“Here.” She handed him a stout branch about the length and thickness of his arm before rising with another in her hand, thinner and longer than the height of her body. She leaned on it to check its tensile strength. Not on the ground long, the wood was green enough to withstand pressure. Lifting it, she stepped back and spun it in a dizzying pattern with a speed that made the air whistle.
Burke’s smile broadened. “I have a feeling you are a woman of many valuable talents.”
She grinned back at him as she planted the end of the branch into the ground between her feet. Her smile faded. “I would never have insisted you take me with you if I thought I would be a liability.”
Burke sobered, reading many things in her gaze. Trust. Resignation. Assurance. “I never doubted your courage, Hallie, or your intent.”
Hefting the branch she’d given him over his shoulder, he swept his free hand toward the gloom. “I suggest we head away from the facility first, then double back. Any landing pad can’t be too far from the building. We mustn’t lose our way. When night falls, we find the safest haven we can and stop, taking it in turns to keep watch. I don’t anticipate traveling at night to be wise, do you?”
She snorted her agreement and moved to stand beside him. Heat radiated from her, no doubt generated by the rigorous descent down the tree trunk. Clutching the long, pliant branch in her fist like a walking stick, she gave him an abbreviated nod. “I follow where you lead, Drifter. Don’t make me regret it.”
She laughed, taking any barb out of her words, but the weight of them lodged deep.
* * *
Her whole body ached—from Skelly’s attack and her subsequent defense, as well as the protracted climb. She said nothing to Burke. Neither of them could afford the distraction. Progress was slow enough as Burke continually checked the ground in concern about a thing he called “quicksand”. The qualities of desert sand could be dangerous enough under certain conditions, but a liquid sand from which one could not free oneself was not at all reassuring.
To make matters worse, they’d lost sight of the prison almost immediately. With the power outage still unresolved no distant lights existed to guide them. Creatures unseen, and as foreign to her as their present environment, rustled and whistled and fluttered in the twilight. She kept a ready grip on her makeshift lathesa and a keen eye to their surroundings.
Suddenly a penetrating wail rose and fell through the humid atmosphere, immediately repeated from a different location. Hallie’s skin shifted over the tense muscles beneath her flesh.
“They seem far away,” she whispered to Burke.
He merely nodded, dark hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. The fabric of both uniforms cleaved to the dampness on their skin. At least they shouldn’t have to worry too much about exposure, even when night fell.
“We’re being followed,” he said after a moment.
“By those howling things?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I think what is hunting us prefers to do so in silence.”
“Perfect.” She turned to look back in the direction they’d come. “I can’t see anything. Do you hear it?”
“On and off. Very stealthy, and possibly very large. It seems to be observing from a consistent distance, maybe still wondering what we are and if we’re good to eat.”
He uttered the last in a light tone, trying to alleviate the tension, but she was having none of it. Her mind formulated a phantasm of the unknown creature stalking them. Or was it creatures? “Do you think there’s more than one?”
“Just keep moving slowly. I can hear better that way.”
Hallie followed his lead as they started walking again, ears straining to hear what he had heard. She couldn’t pick out anything specific. Sweat trickled annoyingly down her back beneath the weight of the pack and along her neck, running between her breasts. Burke lifted his hand, stroking the damp hair away from the side of her throat in a reassuring gesture before dropping his hand down to his side once more. In the other he held his club roughly perpendicular to the ground, lowering the heavy end to test the soil as they moved.
“I’d give my left testicle for an impulse right now,” he murmured.
She grunted. “I’d give your left testicle for one as well.”
He permitted himself a subdued laugh.
“Burke…”
“Listen, Hallie, if we make it through all of this and I get you home safely, remind me I need to tell you something.”
She glanced sidelong at him, at the heavy concentration of his expression, the jagged scar wrinkled and pale. “Why not tell me now?”
“I can’t. Call me superstitious, but I’m going to regard what I have to say as a talisman, something only to be uttered when we’re back on Citadel. Agreed?”
Hallie suppressed a shiver. Nothing else he had said so plainly indicated his concern about achieving that goal. “I’ll remind you,” she whispered and fell quiet once more, listening as they walked.
Eventually she became cognizant of the sounds Burke had been able to single out. Muted and drawn out movement, almost like the drag of a long serpentine body, but not across the ground. She felt no vibration through the soles of her boots when she paused. Considering the length of time between the beginning of each sound of motion and its terminus, the creature was, as Burke had suggested, quite large. A serpent of that size would not have been able to move in utter silence across the debris laden soil.
“It’s above us, isn’t it?” she asked in an undertone.
“Yes.”
Well. Dandy.
Each time the creature moved the other sounds ceased, resuming only in the absence of momentum between. Hallie’s heart rate increased with an uneven bound. Pushing the damp hair from her face, she arched her neck, studying the intertwined shadows well above their heads. She couldn’t see a blasted thing.
Burke’s hand came up against the back of her neck and pushed her head down. “Watch where you’re walking. Right now we both look fairly mobile, strong, but you hit the ground you’re going to appear vulnerable to anything hunting.”
She nodded, sinking her teeth into her lip. He kept his hand against her nape. Briefly she allowed herself to wonder beyond the bare necessity of making it through this mammoth and alien forest alive. She visualized facing Arad, challenging him with the truth. She thought of Burke’s daughter.
“Burke, you must stay alive for Lese. If it comes down to that delineating event I will do what I can, but she needs you, not me. I am no one to her.”
He said nothing for several minutes and then he asked her softly, “And what is it you need?”
At his tone her throat tightened. At the sensation of his warm fingers against her skin one word came to mind in answer. You. But she didn’t say it. What did she know of him, really? She had placed her trust in him, true, but the placement of her heart was another matter entirely.
“Nothing,” she said and stepped out from beneath his hand.
The creature above them paused yet again. The sounds of the forest resumed at a distance. Hallie controlled her breathing, her pace. She almost wished the creature would make a more definitive move and get it over with. “Once power resumes, do you think there’s a chance we’ll be monitored and located?”
“Possibly. If we can put enough distance between ourselves and the facility, then return by a circumspect route, I’m hoping we’ll foil the system in place. However, security outside the building might not be as strict as that within. It’s probably not considered necessary,” he stressed, reminding her of the unknown entity stalking them. As if she needed reminding.
Shifting her shoulders to redistribute the weight of the pack on her back, she resisted the urge to look up again. She didn’t need
to, as she could hear the creature on the move once more. Suddenly, Burke stopped. He swore, not quietly.
“What—” she began, but then she heard it, too.
Something was coming their way at ground level. Fast.
* * *
With an explosion of adrenaline, Burke forced Hallie aside as he spun to face whatever was charging them across the uneven, damp ground. Its arrival was preceded by a high-pitched scream, nearly human in quality. He raised the club, inadequate weapon that it was. Hallie pushed past him, shoving the stout branch down as she ran. The gray of her uniform was all he could see of her as she launched herself toward the approaching creature, tumbling with it to the ground, rolling into shadow. An instant later she regained her feet, the long, pliant branch held parallel to the forest floor in both hands. He heard her voice, urgent, breathless.
“Is Emil with you?”
Shit.
“Thing has him! Back there!” the island dancer wailed. Hallie told Calypso to shut her mouth, in no uncertain terms.
Burke was already on the move.
Thundering past Calypso and Hallie, Burke hoped Hallie would be able to deal with the beast following them through the trees. He knew she wouldn’t thank him if he permitted Emil to die in order to keep her safe. Damn it, these were not the choices he wanted to make.
Sprinting over the ground, he tried to discern which of the shadows ahead of him might be Emil and which the thing that had gotten hold of him. A flash of brilliance behind the hulking bole of a tree was followed by a shriek. By the time Burke reached Emil he was lying on the ground, pulses of a blue-white charge encircling him in uneven tempo. The beast had gone. Stooping beside Emil’s prone form Burke hesitated to touch him, instead peering closely for signs of life.
As the charge dissipated, Burke felt for a pulse, pressing Emil’s throat. Normally pale, the only color the man now possessed was a reflection of the forest, giving him a ghastly hue. After finding a firm beat, Burke shook Emil by the shoulder.
“Emil? Can you hear me?”
The man’s eyes opened, followed by his mouth in preparation of an outburst of pain or fear. Burke clamped his hand over Emil’s fleshy face, feeling the damp chill of his skin.
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