Wait, he thought, the way people used to send messages.
Vlad’s mind raced. He did have a way to send a message to everyone on the ground.
Putting his hand to a set of little used switches on his left, Vlad began to turn one of them on and off in a series of short and long pulses.
“What the hell are you doing?” Wolf asked. Apparently, he realized that what Vlad was doing was out of the normal for a pilot of a Bird. Vlad was glad for the distraction—it kept Wolf from seeing what seemed to be the very obvious glint of light coming from where Heming, Fawn, and Iris were in the woods.
“Flashing the landing light system. With all the forests on Columbina, Iris had our Bird modified to have the lights act to detect anything we don’t want to land on,” Vlad lied and hoped Wolf wouldn’t care. And if he cared, he hoped Wolf would be at least hesitant enough as to the truth of the matter not to call him out on it. “Animals, large rocks, tree stumps, and the like.”
“Fine,” Wolf said. Vlad glanced back at Oly standing behind Beryl. She didn’t seem to believe a word Vlad had said, but she was, as Vlad had hoped, hesitant enough about the truth of the matter not to say anything.
Vlad just hoped that someone on the ground knew enough to recognize the message he had sent in the lights.
*
Below the Bird, Heming watched the ship hover over the clearing. Something seemed a bit off. He realized it was because the Bird seemed to be taking far longer to land than necessary.
“What if it’s not them? What if it’s the Civitians flying our Bird?” Heming asked. He, Fawn, Iris, and Camp were huddled just out of the clearing where their now-empty hammocks swung in the breeze. The Bird hovered above them, appearing to look for a place to land, despite the cleared land below it. The area where they had been sleeping should have been big enough for it, but something seemed to be holding up the Bird from landing.
“It’s not the Civitians.” Iris replied, her voice rising in something like anxious excitement.
“How can you be so sure? Why would they have abandoned Camp if nothing bad had happened?”
“How about, Vlad and Beryl somehow got split up from Camp and he headed back here, while Beryl and Vlad kept heading toward Whit’s compound? That seems like a good explanation to me.”
“Have you met Beryl? Do you think she ever would have abandoned her dog in the woods? She loves that dog even more than she loves Vlad.” Fawn gave Heming a questioning look at the statement. “Oh, come on, Fawn. We all know it’s the case. The only two who don’t realize it are Vlad and Beryl. I’m just going to keep saying it until you believe it.”
“I’m telling you, Heming. It’s them, not the Civitians,” Iris insisted.
“I just don’t know how you can be so sure,” Heming protested.
“I can be sure, because I made some modifications to the Bird.”
“Modifications? Does this have anything to do with why I have magically healed overnight from a broken ankle?”
Iris didn’t reply. The group watched the Bird start to descend vertically to the ground. As it did, its landing lights flashed.
“Why are they flashing their lights like that?” Fawn asked. Heming had been wondering the same thing.
“I don’t know,” Iris said. They all watched the lights, flashing in a series of short, then long, flashes. “No, wait. I think I know what he’s doing. No, I definitely recognize this.”
“What? What’s he doing?” Heming asked.
“He’s sending us a message in Morse code.” Iris spoke quickly.
Heming watched the lights. He had heard of Morse code from old movies and television shows, but he didn’t think anyone still used it, or really even knew what it was. Iris watched the flashing closer than he did, and Heming hoped that she had more knowledge of it than he did.
“Oh, shit,” Iris said as the flashing patter repeated itself. “We need to get back into the woods. They’re in trouble.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he’s flashing S.O.S.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Beryl felt the familiar bump of the Bird touching down on the ground and drew in a breath she normally didn’t upon landing.
As the Bird touched down, Vlad looked over at her. He wasn’t smiling, but whatever he had been doing with the lights, it had seemed to work to get Heming, Fawn, and Iris to move back into the woods. At least, whatever had been flashing off of them had stopped. Vlad looked pleased, though there was no way for that look on his face to last. Beryl knew they were both now on borrowed time.
“What’s the plan?” Vlad asked Wolf, as if he was the one in charge. Beryl suppressed a smile.
“For you to shut your mouth,” Oly replied, temporarily pointing her gun at Vlad instead of Beryl. “Or I’ll make you shut it.”
Wolf moved to the front of the Bird, looking out its large front windows as he stood between the seats of Beryl and Vlad.
His gun was only inches from Beryl’s head. If her hands had been free, she would have been able to pluck it out of its holster and at least get to take Wolf out before the rest of them killed her. There would be a lot of satisfaction in killing the man responsible for Camp’s death, even if he hadn’t been the one to pull the trigger. Perhaps she would be fast enough to take out Oly as well. After all, Oly had been just fine with killing Camp back when they had been at her father’s house. If she was going to die here, Beryl wanted to take some of them out with her.
Especially those who were responsible for Camp’s death.
And maybe without their leader and the crazy woman, the rest of the group would think twice about their mission to find her father.
“Where are they?” Wolf asked, the question being directed at no one in particular. Neither Beryl nor Vlad answered him, and the scene outside the windows remained a view of the clearing and jungle beyond. “Are you kidding me? What were you doing with those lights?”
“Exactly what I told you.” Vlad looked up at Wolf and smiled wide, not caring that Wolf now knew Vlad’s statements about the retrofitting of the lights had been a lie. Vlad smiled wide enough that Beryl could see the beginnings of teeth poking through his gums, replacing the teeth Wolf had smashed the day before.
Beryl would have thought more about the strange healing, but Wolf pulled out his gun and put it to Vlad’s head.
“Give me one good reason not to blow you away right here and now for warning them and lying to me again,” Wolf said.
Vlad’s smile didn’t fade a bit. “You need me to fly this Bird. Unless, of course, you want to take your chances with whatever is in the woods on your hike back to Whit’s compound to get your own ship.”
From behind where she sat, several voices raised up. Unlike earlier, when whatever caused the Civitians to be concerned was easily squelched, this time the other Civitians were not going to be silenced.
“I’m not walking back through that jungle,” one of them said. Two or three others agreed with the sentiment.
Beryl suddenly understood that the Civitians were afraid of the jungle.
This fear wasn’t the healthy sort of fear where you respected the dangers in the woods, without unnecessary worry that something would happen to you while out there. This was actual fear.
All of these people had grown up on Civitas, where there was almost no natural vegetation. What little plant-life existed there was moss-like or low to the ground. They had surely planted orchards and other trees from Earth, but those would not have grown into the woods that naturally existed on Columbina or those her father had created here on Libertas.
“Did you see those fences back at the compound?” Another of the Civitians spoke up, emboldened by his friend who had commented already. “They aren’t there to keep out something small.”
“You should have seen the Caterkillers. They make our Vos back on Columbina look like puppies,” Vlad added, only stoking the worry of the Civitians. Beryl knew the Civitians would have seen dozens of pictures
and videos of the Vos. People on other planets seemed unable to get enough of the creatures that seemed like something out of an old summer blockbuster. She suspected it was more fun to view videos of the creatures than to be in actual danger of being eaten by one. Having been in actual danger of death by Vos more than once, she was probably biased on that point, though. “And I don’t think those fences are there to keep them out of the compound. I’m pretty sure there is something worse in these woods. I mean, we don’t need fences to keep the Vos out. And they are truly nasty creatures.”
The Civitians behind Beryl began to talk loudly to each other, protesting that they didn’t even want to get out of the Bird, let alone tramp through the woods.
“Dammit, I thought at least some of you had guts,” Wolf growled. He went to put his gun back in its holster, then thought better of it.
He smashed it against Vlad’s face, crushing the bridge of Vlad’s nose. It almost immediately began bleeding, but Vlad didn’t even lift his hands to his face. The smile on it didn’t fade, either.
“Fine,” Wolf said. “If I can’t kill you, I do have someone I can kill.”
Wolf turned the gun to Beryl’s forehead, its metal cold against her warm skin. But Beryl didn’t care. She had already anticipated this moment the night before. She had something Wolf needed as well, even though he didn’t know it.
From the driver’s seat, Vlad went to stand up and defend Beryl.
“Don’t try anything, lover boy,” Oly said, stepping toward Vlad so that Beryl could see her and pointing her gun at Vlad. Vlad sat back down. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how you look at her. And unlike the rest of the cowards on this ship, I would rather walk through this jungle than see anything happen to Wolf here.”
The smile had faded from Vlad’s face, but now one appeared on Beryl’s.
“You can’t kill me, either,” Beryl said.
“Oh, really? In case you didn’t notice, we have someone to fly the Bird. You’re extraneous at this point.” Spittle flew out of Wolf’s mouth as he talked.
“I’m extraneous unless you want to find my dad,” Beryl said. “You may have Ellis, but thanks to the communication blackout, you don’t even have contact with him. Not that it matters, because it seems that he hasn’t figured out what we know.”
“Spit it out fast, or I take you out. What don’t we know?”
“Just before we lost contact with my dad, he sent me a special message.” Beryl smiled wide. “The last thing he told us was that I’m the key to finding him.”
Beryl watched as blood rushed to Wolf’s face.
She might still be close to getting killed, but Beryl was sure it wasn’t going to happen at that particular moment.
Chapter Thirty
“Are we far enough into the woods now?” Heming stopped where he was walking, having tramped through what seemed like miles but was probably a distance better measured in feet. Ahead of him, Iris, Fawn, and Camp stopped as well.
They had been pushing their way through the jungle, with no path to guide them. Heming had left the machete back at the camp, not realizing when they fled into the woods that he would need it.
Not that they would have wanted to use it. Blazing a new trail through the woods would have been a good way to show the Civitians exactly where they had gone.
“I don’t know why we’re leaving them alone back there. It seems like we have a much better chance of keeping Beryl and Vlad alive if we, you know, fight back.” Heming touched his gun.
“First, we don’t know if both of them are alive,” Iris said. Heming saw Fawn’s face fall, and he suspected he had looked just as surprised by the statement as she did. “Look, I assume Vlad is alive. Beryl wouldn’t have known how to flash the lights, let alone fly the Bird. But that’s just an assumption. They didn’t need Beryl to fly the plane, though.”
“But they wouldn’t kill Beryl. Wouldn’t she have told them about the message?” Fawn asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe. I would hope so. But I don’t trust any of those Civitians, especially that Oly character. I think if you looked at her the wrong way, she would blow your head off and think it was funny.”
“Fine. We don’t know if they are still alive.” Heming crossed his arms across his chest. “But I’m going to go with the optimistic side of things, and assume they are both still alive. What is the second thing?”
“The second thing is that we definitely do not want to get in a gun fight with these guys,” Iris looked as if this was the most logical thing she could have said.
Heming thought she was crazy. A gun fight was exactly what Heming wanted.
“Why not? We’ve been in a gun fight before. And that fight was with hundreds or thousands of drones. And we managed to get through that just fine.” As he spoke, Fawn winced. With all of his siblings having gotten through the actual drone fighting, Heming sometimes forgot that not everyone was so lucky. And Fawn had been unluckier than anyone on Columbina. “Sorry, Fawn.”
“It’s OK.” Fawn’s quiet voice suggested it wasn’t entirely OK, but it was OK enough for the hostile situation in which they now found themselves.
“Let’s see, there are eight of them, and there are three of us and a dog, and I don’t think Camp counts in this equation because that whole lack of opposable thumbs keeps him from being able to shoot. So, we’re outnumbered almost three to one. When we were up against the drones, we were the ones with the superior firepower. Against the Civitians, we’re going to be up against equivalent weapons. It thus becomes a battle of attrition or slight advantages. If it is the former, we’re toast. If it’s the latter, we might have a chance, but I don’t think we all come out of it alive. I’m not willing to take that chance. And I can guarantee neither Beryl nor Vlad comes out of that equation alive. Presumably, they don’t have weapons. And bringing no weapon to a gunfight is a good way to get killed.”
“Fine. Unless we can’t come up with something better, a straight fire fight is off of the table,” Heming reluctantly admitted. “Do you have any brilliant ideas? Because I’ve got shit.”
“Brilliant ideas? No. But I do have an idea that is something less than brilliant.”
“Great. A less-than-brilliant idea. What are the odds that this plan will work?” Heming asked.
“Let’s just say, it worked pretty darn well for a certain group of pint-sized teddy bears.”
Heming looked at Iris, trying to figure out what she meant by that statement.
“Does the name ‘Wicket’ mean anything to you?”
Heming shook his head and put it in his hands. Unfortunately, Wicket did mean something to him. And now he knew exactly what sort of half-baked plan Iris had in mind.
Why the hell had he ever volunteered for this trip?
*
The Civitians half-pushed and half-let Beryl and Vlad walk out the back of the Bird. They had retied Vlad’s hands behind his back, negating any chance he could take advantage of the use of his hands. Once outside, the Civitians all huddled behind the Beryl and Vlad, as if the two Columbinians could protect them from anyone shooting at them from the woods.
Or, just as likely, as if Beryl and Vlad could protect them from whatever creatures lurked just beyond the clearing.
Despite the seeming absurdity of this plan, it had taken the Civitians a surprisingly long time to come up with it. Huddled in the back of the Bird, the Civitians had been quiet enough that Beryl hadn’t been able to hear any of what they were saying, though she suspected keeping either her or Vlad alive did not figure prominently in whatever plans they had finally decided upon.
Beryl nearly tripped and fell walking across the uneven ground. The whole time, the Civitians kept her and Vlad between themselves and the woods. The large ship would prevent anyone from shooting at them from the other side of the clearing, or, at the very least, it would keep someone from getting off a clear shot. It would also give the Civitians a good way to retreat in case shooting started.
A quick retre
at to the Bird would give the Civitians an excellent platform for shooting at anyone else should firing begin.
Unfortunately, in this scenario, she and Vlad were, essentially, human shields.
Beryl really hoped that, if Iris, Heming, and Fawn had come up with a plan to save them, it did not involve a gunfight.
It was very clear to Beryl that the first people who would die in that situation were herself and Vlad.
“Stop there.” Wolf barked the order a few steps out away from the Bird.
Wolf put his gun to Beryl’s head. She was getting surprisingly used to the feeling. So far, she was doing excellent at staying alive in these situations.
“Hey Columbina,” Wolf shouted into the woods ahead of them. “We have Beryl and Vlad here. If you want to keep them alive, I suggest you come out now, without your weapons and with your hands up. If you do, we might let them live.”
“Because that didn’t sound like a bad guy in a movie at all,” Vlad said. Without warning, Oly smashed her gun into the back of Vlad’s head, making him stumble a bit. Vlad looked pleased with himself for the statement, despite the blow to the head.
In the woods, nothing stirred to indicate any response to the comment. If Iris, Heming, and Fawn were still nearby, it seemed they were not going to let any of the Civitians know that fact just yet. The only sounds in the woods were those of the birds and insects who had come out after the killing of the Caterkillers.
Beryl took the opportunity to look around the clearing. There was nothing special about it, with the Bird taking up most of the cleared space. Three hammocks hung in the trees, swaying lazily in the breeze. Had this been any other situation, they would have looked inviting, like something out of an old-time advertisement for tropical beers.
Nearby, the path they had cut through the woods from Whit’s compound to the clearing was already looking overgrown, though it was still noticeable heading off into the jungle. It seemed like an eternity ago that they had been trudging through the woods, looking for somewhere to spend the night after fighting off the Caterkillers—and it had only been the day before yesterday.
Third Rock Page 15
