by Beth Reason
Broken
Tenets
By Beth Reason
Copyright 2013 Beth Reason
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Table of Contents:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
About the Author
More Great Books By Beth Reason!
Chapter 1
Tenet lay in a pool of his own blood, the result of a bad situation completely of his making, and cursed everything and everyone he wanted to blame instead. He refused to accept responsibility. As his life congealed unapologetically beneath him, such a revelation surely would have meant the end. He cursed the stars as he tried to move the shattered remains of his arm. He cursed the sky as he made a pathetic attempt to clench what was once a fist. He cursed his mother for having instilled in him a reckless streak of abandon, and he cursed his father for daring to try and quell it. He cursed the migration. He cursed the police. He cursed the bots and crops and bugs...
As long as he had breath to curse, he was breathing. And that, most of all, was what mattered.
While his left arm was mangled beyond recognition, his right was mostly intact. His mind ran through the short list of things to blame for his situation. His instructors. They hadn't warned him just how bad it would be, so it was all their fault too, wasn't it? He cursed them as he gritted his teeth and made a valiant effort to shift into a better position. It felt as if his arm had successfully moved mountains. In reality, it was just barely out of the rut in the sand it made on impact.
“Goddammit!” he screamed, not caring that anyone around to hear him would be exactly who he was trying to avoid. He wriggled in a fit and was happy to find that at least one leg could move enough to send up a plume of dust. “Ha!” he shouted in triumph, as he watched the sand settle back in place. As small as it might be, it was indeed a victory.
Victory was short-lived. The outburst in the middle of the blazing sun had sapped him. And so, he cursed again, this time finally admitting whose fault it all was: his own.
Tenet panted and tried to will his heart to slow. He had to get himself under control if he had any chance of survival. The thought crossed his mind, and actually made him laugh. A little maniacally, true, but it was still a laugh. What was it that his mother always said? “If you can laugh, it can't be that bad.” He took a deep breath and tried to move his arm again. Rightie creaked, and he was certain he heard a crunch, but slowly he got it to obey.
Movement was limited. Being a shattered heap at the base of an unsheltered cliff had left him with very few options. Every inch of movement took ten times the effort it would have in normal circumstances, and he quickly discovered that it was better to plan how to move next before trying to come up with something along the way. When he had finally moved enough to prop himself up on his elbow, he felt like collapsing with relief. He took a few deep breaths, wishing he could somehow maneuver to wipe the sweat off his face. It was out of the question, of course. He hadn't mastered his face mask with two hands just yet, never mind trying to let rightie go solo. Even if he miraculously had the dexterity of a superhero and somehow got it off, he couldn't leave it that way. He'd last maybe an hour, if informations from the Undergrounds was correct...half that if the government was to be believed. He sighed. There was nothing to be done but let the sweat drip.
His fast, shallow breathing slowed. That was something, anyway. He took a deep breath and nothing popped or cracked, so he figured it was another good sign. Carefully he twisted to the right, then left. The leftward movement was a mistake. Searing pain shot up his arm and he nearly succumbed to the dark threatening to claim him. “Left bad,” he mumbled over and over, trying to remain conscious.
Eventually his mantra helped the dizziness pass. He was sorely tempted to lay down and wait to see if someone would come to help him, but the thought was absurd, both to his ego which still insisted he could take care of himself, and the practicalities of the situation. He needed to move. He needed to find shelter. He needed to remove the face mask. He needed to check his wounds. He needed to stop the bleeding. He needed so much that he had no idea how to get that in the end, he resolved to just look around. Look around, find somewhere. Then think of the rest.
As it had for days, the hollowness of the land both astounded and confused him. He knew this land. He'd spent his whole life here on the Tenet Ranch.
No, that wasn't true. As he'd been reminding himself for just as many days, he'd only spent half his life here. The cold half.
But still, he thought he should recognize something, shouldn't he? He looked around at the scorched fields and cliffs and tried to picture them green. If he could picture them green, he might have a chance. Surely he combed every inch of this land in his childhood. Was this where he and his sister hid for two days because there had been no way of hiding the broken lamp? Or was this the other side of the ranch, where he and Jiti Ton had the tree climbing contest? There were trees, or trunks of trees to be more accurate. Were those the ones?
No green anywhere. Last week, the land had started to turn. As with every spring that fades into the oppressive heat of summer, the leaves took a darker hue, drooping instead of being vibrant and excited to stretch toward the sun. A haze had developed in the afternoons, watery sheets of heat hovering over the crops. Even the dogs had taken to resting under the porch instead of chasing after flies. The signs of summer were all there.
But...it had still been green.
He wondered again idly how many people knew this happened? Of course, they all knew in the abstract sense of those who have gained knowledge from the tales of others. But how many of them actually knew? When they were boarding the transports, trying to remember what it was they surely forgot to do before the migration, did any of them realize just how quickly it happened? Just how lucky they were to beat the true heat of Summer?
It didn't really matter when there were more important things to focus on. He let the thoughts slip away and tried to search the horizon. He had been walking for days, so he doubted he'd be able to see the house, especially from ground level. Much to his surprise and chagrin, the transport network had been shut down as the last migration transport pulled away from the station. He knew they shut it down for Summer, but, like everything else, he had no idea how quickly the process would be complete. There must be a switch somewhere. One big switch. Maybe a big red button that some maniac giggled about finally getting to hit...
Tenet shook his head. Focus. He had to focus.
His head rolled to the right and he saw shade. That's where he was going. Right there. It didn't matter that it was a good mile long crawl. He could make it. Yup.
And with that thought, he heard a soft thud in his chest. Just before he blacked out, it occurred to him that it was odd he didn't feel anything.