Kara drew herself up. “I’m, err, one of The Five’s advisors,” she said. “I’m just getting up early to … to fetch them some breakfast. These are the cooks.”
Nate smiled awkwardly and Joe gave a little wave. There was a rattle of steel and the guard looked down. “Why has he got handcuffs on? What’s really g—”
Kara lunged, slamming into him shoulder first. The torch flew from the guard’s hand, shadows leaping as it rolled across the sand.
“Go,” Kara hissed, looking back at Nate and Joe. “Now!”
“Not without you,” Joe protested.
“Run!” she yelled as the guard seized her arm, twisting it. She cried out in surprise then she swung with her free hand, packing all her frustration into her fist and feeling a grim satisfaction as it made contact. The guard fell on his back and Kara advanced on him. All around she could hear muffled shouts as the fort began to come awake.
Joe ran for the edge of the canyon, Nate hard on his heels. Behind them he could hear Kara scuffling with the guard, followed by the sound of voices and doors slamming.
They darted between a pair of jeeps, startling a sleeping mule that whinnied and tottered to its feet. The little plane stood out in the open and Joe made for it, grabbing the steel frame with his cuffed hands and scrambling up into the cockpit.
Nate climbed into the pilot’s seat, studying the rusty control panel. To Joe’s surprise it had far fewer buttons than the submersible they’d driven, just two rows of switches and a black plastic handlebar, like a steering wheel with no top or bottom.
“Propeller, propeller,” Nate muttered as gunfire sounded from the ramparts. He turned a key and the engine began to rumble, the prop turning, picking up speed. “Good start,” he said. “And this must be how you control it.”
He grabbed the bar and pulled it towards him, the flying machine juddering, the propeller whirring faster. Through the steel-mesh floor Joe could see rubber wheels turning as the plane rolled forward, angling towards the rim of the canyon. He squeezed on to the seat beside Nate as men converged on them from all corners of the courtyard, yelling and firing. But most of their shots missed – the flying machine’s frame was so skeletal that the bullets passed right through.
They began to pick up speed, dust rising beneath the wheels. But the canyon’s rim was getting close now and Nate tugged desperately on the control bar. “I don’t think we’re going fast enough,” he shouted. “We need more power but I don’t know how!”
They reached the edge of the canyon and the plane tilted sickeningly. Nate wrestled with the controls as they tipped on to a steep, rocky slope, the wheels bouncing over piles of scree. Then the ground dropped away and Joe saw nothing beneath them, just a long drop to the canyon floor.
The wind rose and the plane bucked, riding an updraft but still descending. Then Nate flicked another switch and suddenly the engine seemed to kick in, the propeller doubling its speed. They began to climb, up into the churning air.
“Must have been some kind of fuel pump,” Nate said. “Either way, it worked.”
As they soared out over the canyon, Joe could see the treetops far below and the narrow band of the river. For a moment it was almost peaceful, the sky paling around them as colour soaked back into the world.
Then he heard gunfire and jerked round. The soldiers on the precipice were out of range now, just wasting bullets. But something else caught his eye and he grabbed Nate’s arm. “Look!”
Kara stood in the shadow of a tall truck right on the edge of the canyon, waving both her arms. As Joe watched, she began to sweep her hands outward in a gesture of dismissal. “I think she’s telling us to go,” he shouted. “She wants us to leave her. But we can’t, can we?”
Nate looked back and Joe could see the struggle behind his eyes. The light was rising in the east, above the dark line of the forest. Nate lowered his gaze, scanning the cockpit floor. He reached down and grabbed something – a length of rope. He shoved it into Joe’s hands then he hauled on the control bar, the flying machine banking steeply. “Either we all go,” he said, “or none of us does.”
The soldiers watched in disbelief as the plane circled back towards the stockade, dropping as it came. Wrestling with his handcuffs, Joe tied the rope to the sturdiest-looking strut and gripped it, poised.
As they drew closer he happened to glance down at the cliffside below the fort and was amazed by what he saw. A series of caves had been burrowed into the rock, linked by rope walkways. He saw faces peering out, children and parents and goats and dogs, watching as the flying machine swept overhead.
Then the ground sloped up to meet them, the ramparts rising ahead. Joe saw a woman in uniform screaming orders, men sprinting to obey. The Five emerged from the train car, clad in identical black-silk pyjamas. But none of them seemed to have spotted Kara on the canyon’s edge – they were too preoccupied with the plane itself.
She watched them come, shaking her head incredulously. Joe grinned and dropped the rope, the loose end trailing above the scree slope. Kara darted for it, hands outstretched. As Joe watched she snatched, missed, and snatched again. This time she caught hold, wrapping both hands tightly around. The plane dipped but only for a moment, Nate pulling hard on the control bar.
“Take us up!” Joe shouted. “We’ve got her!”
Nate nodded and the plane began to lift, struggling with the added weight. The ramparts rose ahead of them, but Joe was sure they were going to make it. He looked down to see Kara climbing the rope, the wind from the propeller battering her face. Then something moved beneath her, a figure leaping from the shadows, bounding on to the roof of the bus.
Joe gave a cry as Lynx sprang, both arms clasping around Kara’s legs. Kara tried to kick but Lynx’s grip was too tight. And now the plane was dropping again, the weight dragging them back below the level of the battlements. The engine whined and Joe could taste scorched chem fuel.
Lynx clung to Kara as she dangled from the rope, staring helplessly up at Joe. He saw the decision in her eyes as she made it, the look of resignation. And before he could protest she had dropped, plummeting to the courtyard floor, landing with Lynx in a cloud of dust.
Nate looked down in horror. “She let go!”
“She had to,” Joe shouted back. “What do we do?”
Nate bit his lip. “Someone needs to warn my people,” he said, seizing Joe’s hand and placing it on the control bar. “Just follow the sun. Keep going west and you’ll find them.”
Joe shook his head. “No, wait, don’t—”
“I can’t leave her,” Nate said. “You were right.”
And he scrambled from the seat, and jumped.
He landed hard on the battlements, sprawling flat on his back. Joe saw armed men closing in, the Mariner boy raising his hands as they approached. Then he forced himself to turn away, gripping the control bar as the plane rose into the grey light of morning.
13
Wildcat Rodeo
Once the flying machine was in the air, Joe found it quite a simple task to keep it there – all he had to do was hold the control bar steady and watch out for tall trees. By the time the sun was up he’d left both fort and forest far behind, keeping the light at his back and following the westward shadows. The fuel tanks were full and there was a spare canister tucked behind the seat, along with a bottle of water. His hands were still cuffed and he had no food; the few scraps they’d stashed last night had been in Nate’s pocket. But hopefully it wouldn’t be long before he reached the Mariners.
He tried to remember the last time he’d been separated from Kara for more than a day, but he couldn’t. She’d always been there, watching his back, keeping him out of trouble. Now he was alone in hostile territory, and she was back there facing The Five. The urge to turn around was so strong at first that he almost broke, but he just had to picture Nate’s face and remember his words – Someone needs to warn my people. It was all up to Joe.
Below him the dry brown country stretched to the
horizon, utterly silent, utterly dead. Broken highways followed their ancient courses and in empty towns the shattered houses were arranged in vast grids, the streets piled with rubble and refuse. Vehicles lay strewn, the paint peeling back like skin to reveal the rusted carcasses beneath. Some had wheels, some wings, some sat on straight rails that ran for miles upon miles, like seams stitching the frayed land.
Birds drifted by, silver-black ravens and brown eagles, mirrored eyes fixed on the flying machine as it made its way through the hot, rising air. Herds of wild horses thundered over the plains, streaming like water through rocky canyons. And on the banks of a shallow river he saw a cluster of triangular tents, smoke drifting from a cookfire in the centre of the camp. People pointed and dogs barked furiously as Joe passed overhead, waving until they were out of sight behind him.
Kara crouched in the dust, her hands cuffed in front of her. The sun blazed and the air stank of hot metal. Thirty or more trucks had been arranged into a ring, forming a large enclosure. The soldiers sat on roofs and hoods, knocking back cups of home-brewed beer and waiting for the fun to start.
They had left Fort Coronado not long after Joe, the army’s ranks swelled by two huge black lorries, twenty assault vehicles and over four hundred armed men from the Arizona Brigade. On The Five’s orders Kara and Nate had been chained in the bus, a captive audience for Lynx to gloat over. But Kara knew it was just the start – they’d have to be properly punished for trying to escape and for helping Joe. Scar wouldn’t let it go, not this time.
As the sun reached its peak, the convoy had rumbled to a stop, pulling off the DustRoad on to a patch of dead land overlooked by a huge, ruined church. Lynx had dragged Kara out, ignoring Nate’s feeble protestations. Now she was chained on the edge of this huge circle of trucks, wondering what form her punishment was going to take.
In the centre of the enclosure was a stack of wood and brush and, as she watched, a man came forward with a canister, drenching it in chem fuel. Then she heard laughter and saw Nate being pushed into the ring, stripped to the waist with a rope around his neck. Lynx tugged him forward like a dog, leading him to the woodpile and tying him to a post in the middle. His mouth moved but Kara couldn’t hear his words – he was too far away and there was too much noise from the crowd.
Behind her the train car’s door slid open and Scar stepped down, giving a brisk wave. The crowd cheered, drumming on the hoods of their vehicles as his brothers followed – Grey and Knuckles and Boxer. Kara waited for Dash but there was no sign of him. She felt her mouth go dry.
Scar strode over, crouching with his face just inches from hers. He took hold of the chain between Kara’s wrists, unlocking her cuffs with a silver key. “If you thought my brother was going to save you, you’re very much mistaken,” he said, a smile playing around his lips. “He couldn’t even bring himself to watch. He was always the weakest of us, you know. Even when we were boys.”
“I thought you were all the same,” Kara said. “How could one be weaker?”
“Every litter has its runt,” Scar spat. “Our situation is … complex. We are the same but we are also different. We are many but we are also one. I wouldn’t expect a child like you to understand.”
Hearing scattered laughter, Kara looked out across the circle. Lynx had struck a flame, lighting the wick of a short candle and placing it between Nate’s bare feet. When it burned down, the fuel would catch and the pyre would go up.
Lynx glanced at Kara, flashing a silver-toothed smile and retreating from the arena. Kara got to her feet. “I may be a child,” she told Scar. “But I’ve beaten bigger men than you.”
The clone laughed. “It’s one thing taking on men,” he said. “Try beating machines.”
And he gave her a shove into the circle, hard and unexpected.
Kara stumbled, skidding on to her knees. The crowd hooted, banging and hollering. Every eye was on her as she picked herself up, brushed herself down. Scar took his seat beneath a canvas awning with his brothers. Boxer passed him a beer and he nodded gratefully.
Kara advanced into the enclosure. Nate hung from the pole some distance away, his eyes pleading as the candle burned. Silence fell, the anticipation building. Then Kara heard the rumble of engines, two – no, three – of them, amplified in the stillness. She started to run, but she already knew what was coming.
The Wildcats roared from a gap in the trucks, soldiers scrambling clear as they shot into the arena. Lynx cut right around the central woodpile while the others broke left, rocketing towards Kara. She froze. Which way to run? All she could hear was the din of their engines; all she could see were the reflections from chrome hoods and wheel rims flashing in her eyes and making her dizzy.
Then they were on her and she ducked aside – too late. Tigress’s orange-striped roadster clipped her, spinning her into the dust. Kara rolled on her back and Leo roared over her, the rumbling tailpipe inches from her nose. She coughed, staggering up in time to see Lynx circling in, the sleek, low-roofed vehicle the same colour as the dust beneath its wheels.
Again Kara tried to leap clear but the car was moving too fast. It struck her and she rolled over the hood, briefly coming eye to eye with Lynx as the wheels twisted, throwing her clear. She bounced and spun, bruised and blinded as she came to a skidding stop back on the edge of the circle.
The crowd screamed their approval, punching the air and shouting, “Lynx! Lynx! Lynx!” Kara dragged herself up, blinking the dust from her eyes. Nate looked at her in panic, his mouth working soundlessly, the flame still flickering between his feet.
Then she saw Leo powering towards her, his hulking, steel-topped monster tracking the very edge of the circle, forcing onlookers out of his path. He grinned over the steering wheel, teeth bared as he closed in. Tigress was approaching from the other direction, aiming to cut Kara off if she tried to run. But she ran anyway, putting herself right in harm’s way. The two vehicles screamed towards her, leaving her nowhere to go, no way to escape. Except one.
She faked left then leapt as high as she could, her foot striking Tigress’s speeding hood, the impact vaulting her forward into the circle. Both drivers were confused; the cars slammed against one another at high speed, metal twisting and tyres popping as they juddered to a halt. Kara heard the hiss of steam as she dropped to the earth and sprinted.
Again the crowd roared, some in dismay, others in surprise and excitement. Below the woodpile the candle was still burning, but now she knew she was going to make it. Nate struggled against the ropes, his eyes blazing with reflected fire.
Then Kara saw something in the corner of her eye and glanced aside, just for a moment. A figure stood in the crowd, taller than the rest and dressed in a long black coat. Why had he drawn her attention, what had made her look his way? Then he pulled back his hood and she almost skidded to a stop. He had a bandage around his eyes, his pale face framed by long, greasy hair. Kara felt her heart seize, her mind rolling over, her pace slowing.
Lynx’s car screamed out of nowhere, slamming Kara sideways and sending her flying. She skidded on her back, her skin scraped raw, the breath knocked out of her. She gasped air, coughed dust, dragging herself up. She looked for the dark figure but he was gone, an hallucination, or a coincidence. It was impossible, impossible – it couldn’t be him.
There was a quiet whump and a wave of heat hit her.
Nate screamed as the flames rose around him. Kara ran, pounding through the dust. Lynx steered for her but Kara dodged, feeling the car glide past. The crowd bellowed.
Kara reached the woodpile, covering her face as another pool of chem fuel caught, singeing her eyebrows and making Nate howl. She tried to reach him, turning as she heard a rumble behind her. Lynx had U-turned in the dust and was hurtling back, closing fast. If the car knocked her into the flames, she’d be badly burned. If she retreated, Nate could die.
Thinking quickly, Kara grabbed a blazing plank, spinning and tossing it as hard as she could, seeing it twist end over end towards the dus
t-coloured car. Lynx tried to steer clear but the board slammed into the windshield, exploding in a spray of sparks. Lynx lost control, skidding wildly.
Kara ran into the flames. Nate was half conscious, his skin turning red, his hair smoking. She tugged at his bonds but the knots were too tight. She grabbed another piece of wood, feeling her fingers burn as she pressed it down on the rope. String by string it came loose.
The rope snapped and Nate fell into her arms. Kara held him around the waist as they staggered clear. She could smell her own hair burning, feel blisters on her feet and hands. Nate dropped to the sand as the soldiers howled and pounded, making Kara’s head spin.
Then suddenly the crowd fell silent and she heard the rumble of an engine coming closer. The car’s windshield was patterned with spider cracks but Lynx leaned from the driver’s window, steering one-handed. The throttle roared, dust flying around the wheels. Nate lay slumped at Kara’s feet, unable to stand. This is it, she thought.
Something moved beside her, a shape striding through the flames. Strong hands pushed her aside, taking the place she’d been moments before. Lynx looked up, eyes widening in horror.
Dash held up a hand as the car sped closer, the engine screaming. Then at the last second Lynx jerked aside, twisting the wheel as the car rolled, smashing into the pyre, scattering blazing planks across the arena. Kara shielded her eyes as sparks rose, smoke billowing around them. Dash turned to her. His eyes were bright.
“I couldn’t let them hurt you,” he said. “I just couldn’t.”
Kara looked up at him, struggling to focus. “Your brother’s going to be mad,” she managed, then the heat overcame her and she stumbled to her knees.
On Dash’s orders they were taken to the medical truck where a military doctor with an ash-grey face and kind eyes inspected Kara’s injuries and pronounced her essentially indestructible. But Nate’s burns were more serious and the doctor suggested he spend the night under observation.
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