Broken Lands

by Jonathan Maberry

  “Yeah,” agreed Gutsy.

  Spider said, “This is bad.”

  “Thank you, Captain Understatement,” said Alethea.

  Gutsy looked up at a family walking past. Father, mother, two little kids, all talking and laughing at some joke. The father cut a look at the three of them and the dog sitting in the shade of a canopy. He smiled and moved on. The smile looked creepy. Suspicious.

  “Okay,” said Spider, “I officially don’t trust anyone.”

  “Sweetie,” said Alethea, “glad you finally caught up to where I’ve always been.”

  “I don’t want to be like this, though. I like people.”

  Gutsy and Alethea exchanged a quick, small, sad look. Spider was without doubt the nicest of the three of them. Most people treated him like he was a weirdo, but he never seemed to mind. Gutsy was sure he noticed, but it didn’t matter to him as much as being himself. It had to hurt on some level, Gutsy knew. It was tough to be disliked for no good reason. It probably made Spider go deeper into himself. It sure as heck made her do that. And Alethea, tough as she was, as uncaring as she always seemed to be, had her own scars from cheap shots.

  Unlike Spider, Gutsy didn’t automatically like people. She was much more calculating in that she had to have a reason to like someone. Maybe that was a flaw, or maybe it was how she was wired, but it was a fact of her life. Now, after talking to the Chess Players, she was even less enthusiastic about bonding with the people in town.

  Well, with a notable exception. She could still feel that kiss. Quick as it was, Gutsy knew that it had made a permanent mark on her. She wanted another one. A longer one. And about a million hours of conversation, preferably under a tree or somewhere quiet.

  “You’re smiling again,” said Alethea in a definitely accusatory way. “How can you smile with everything that’s going on?”

  “Um . . . ,” began Gutsy.

  Alethea straightened, seeming to come to point like a bird dog. “Alice Chung!”

  Gutsy blinked in surprise. “What? How? I mean . . . how did you know?” She looked sharply at Spider. “You told her, didn’t you?”

  “He didn’t need to tell me anything, girl,” said Alethea, puffing out her chest and raising her eyebrows. “You talked to Alice, didn’t you? Come on, don’t lie. It’s written all over your face. I have only ever seen you blush three times in your whole life, Gabriella Gomez. Once when Corey Hale told you how pretty you looked at the Christmas party in school. And twice when you saw Alice Chung on the street. You were redder than a fresh-picked tomato then and you are twice as red now, which means it was more than seeing her on the street. You talked to her, didn’t you? No . . . you told her how you feel. Come on, out with it. Don’t make me beat it out of you. I can go fetch Rainbow Smite and we can do this the old-school way. . . .”

  Gutsy had to laugh.

  “Wait,” said Spider quickly, “you mean you did tell her?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Well, what exactly happened?” demanded Alethea.

  Gutsy told them. When she got to the part about the accidental collision and Alice falling into a pile of steaming manure, Spider laughed so hard he choked. Alethea gave him a hearty thump on the back that knocked him out of the chair so that he nearly crushed Sombra, but the coydog scampered away and stood wagging, tongue lolling, excited by the laughter though confused by it as well.

  By the time Gutsy finished her story Alethea was nodding as if it was all something she’d foreseen.

  “Well, it’s about time. You only had like months to say something to her.”

  “I . . . almost did,” said Gutsy weakly. “A few times. I mean I thought about it . . . but I didn’t know how she’d react. Her mom’s so proper and—”

  Alethea held up a hand to stop her right there. “Proper? Proper? What’s that supposed to mean. Are you saying that you talking to Alice isn’t proper? Who says? What’s improper about it?”

  “No, I mean . . . I didn’t want to offend her.”

  “Offend? God, I am so going to smack the stupid off you.”

  “You know what I mean,” said Gutsy. “How could I know Alice was bi?”

  “Actually,” said Alethea, “Alice Chung is not bi.”

  Gutsy stared at her. “What . . . ?”

  “You’re bi, sweetie,” said Alethea. “Alice is a lesbian. She only likes girls.”

  “Wait, what? Since when?”

  “Since always, I expect. It’s not like something you catch. Pretty sure you’re born that way, unless everything I ever read is wrong, and it isn’t.”

  Gutsy gaped at her. “But . . . but . . . how do you even know?”

  “How do you not know?” Alethea said with a laugh. “Have you ever seen Alice talk to a boy about anything except the time of day? Have you ever seen her kiss a boy? No, you have not, and you’re not likely to. She likes girls, Guts, and for some reason she likes a particular girl who I find occasionally annoying.”

  “She was just being nice.”

  “No, seriously, I really am going to have to smack you.” Alethea rolled her eyes. “You knocked her into a pile of crap and she was still nice to you? She kissed you. Her. No one’s that nice. Not unless they like you enough to make something like that not matter.” She shook her head. “I’m straight as an arrow and I can see that. How can you be bi and not see it?” She sighed, then adjusted her glittery tiara. “Gutsy, you may be able to fix anything and find anything, but when it comes to figuring out how your own heart and mind work, you are dumber than a box of rocks.”

  That stopped Gutsy in her tracks. She looked at Spider, who was rocking back and forth, laughing so hard he couldn’t make any noise. His brown skin was now a violent brick red. Sombra looked at Gutsy and gave a single, happy bark.

  “See,” said Alethea, “even your weirdo dog knows.”

  62

  LAUGHTER, EVEN THE WEIGHTLESS AND unburdened laughter of good friends, fades away in time. When it faded, the weight of reality dragged them all down.

  “The Rat Catchers,” said Spider. “What are we going to do about them?”

  “What can we do?” asked Alethea glumly. “Much as I want to beat their heads in and keep beating them until I feel better—which might take a while—there’s a lot of them and they have guns.”

  “We have to find out about them,” insisted Spider.

  “Sure,” said Alethea, “and then what?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, once we find out, what do we do? If those two old farts are right and half the town council and some of the guards are in on it, what can we do without getting in more trouble? This isn’t one of your comic books, Spider. We don’t have superpowers and there’s no one we can call, like in those novels you read. When you can’t trust the cops, who do you call?”

  “Not all the guards are involved,” said Gutsy. “Karen Peak is cool. And the guards who got beaten up. They can’t be in on it.”

  “Don’t make any assumptions,” warned Alethea.

  Spider nodded. “Besides, even if they’re all innocent, that’s only three people, two of whom are in the hospital. Really some army we’re putting together. Maybe we can get old Mr. Kilroy and his blind cat, too.”

  But Gutsy shook her head. “First things first. I want to go talk to Karen and see what she knows. Then Sombra and I are going hunting. I bet between his nose and what the Chess Players told me, I can find that lab.”

  Spider leaned forward and studied her, his face screwed up with concern. “And then what?”

  “I don’t know yet,” said Gutsy. “And before you ask, I can’t even work out a rough plan because I don’t have enough information. Investigate first, plan next.”

  “What book is that from?” asked Alethea.

  “The Book of Gutsy,” she replied.

  63

  KAREN PEAK WAS JUST LEAVING her office to head home when Gutsy and Sombra caught up with her.

  “Got a sec?” asked Gutsy, fallin
g into step with her.

  The security officer smiled. “Sure. What’s up?”

  There was no one on the street, so Gutsy took a chance and asked, “Karen . . . what do you know about the Rat Catchers?”

  Karen stared at Gutsy with wide eyes that were instantly filled with fear. “What? How do you even know that name?”

  Gutsy faced her and felt a tightness in her chest. “Then you do know them? Who are they?”

  Karen went pale. In a fierce whisper, she said, “Listen to me, Gabriella, you can’t say that name. You can’t ever mention them. You’ve never heard of them and you won’t ever talk about them. Do you understand me?”

  “No,” said Gutsy, “I don’t. I want you to tell me who they are.”

  Karen shook her head. “I . . . I can’t.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  The panic in Karen’s eyes gave her the answer. She was too terrified of the Rat Catchers to talk about them. That much was obvious; but Gutsy thought she saw something else. Karen was afraid, but she didn’t look guilty. Or angry. Or hostile. Just scared. Did that mean she knew something but wasn’t involved?

  Sombra stood next to Gutsy, glaring up at the older woman.

  Karen looked at the dog and chewed her lip nervously. “You never told me where you found that dog.”

  “Does it matter?”

  “It, um, might. The people who own him could come looking for him.”

  “People? You mean the Rat Catchers, don’t you? He belonged to them, didn’t he?”

  Instead of answering, Karen said, “You should turn him loose. He’ll find his way back and no one will be mad at you for taking him in.”

  “I think the Rat Catchers are already mad at me.”

  Karen said nothing.

  “Karen,” said Gutsy evenly, “let me tell you what I think, okay? I think the Rat Catchers are soldiers working for some secret lab hidden outside town. I think the lab is doing medical experiments. I think those people made my mother sick. I think that’s why Mama died.”

  Karen shook her head, but it was clear that it was more a matter of not wanting to have this conversation than denying what Gutsy was saying. The woman did not turn and run away, though. There was that.

  “The other night,” continued Gutsy, “when the riders came into town, that wasn’t the first time, was it? They were here the night before, too.”

  “No . . . ,” said Karen hoarsely. “You don’t know that.”

  “Yes, I do. And you know what they did that first time? They brought Mama home.”

  Karen’s face, already pale, turned the color of ash. She backed a half step away and put her hand over her mouth.

  “I took Mama back to Hope Cemetery and buried her again,” said Gutsy. “Do you know that? Can you imagine how that felt?”

  Karen said nothing, but she kept shaking her head.

  “Then two nights ago the Rat Catchers brought Mama back and put her in my bedroom,” said Gutsy, and she had to fight to keep from snarling. “In my bedroom. I had to fight my own mother, Karen. I almost died.”

  “You didn’t report anything like that. . . .”

  “Of course I didn’t,” snapped Gutsy. “Your night guards didn’t stop them the first time and they got hurt the second time. What good would telling you anything do?”

  “I could have helped.”

  “Really? Against the Rat Catchers? You almost fainted when I said that name.”

  “Gabriella, please . . .”

  “My name is Gutsy,” she snapped. “Gabriella was the little girl you used to babysit. She’s gone now. It’s just me. Gutsy Gomez.” She took a step closer. “I went out to the cemetery again yesterday to bury Mama, and those Rat Catchers had dug up nearly everyone who died in the last few months. The Santiagos, the Cantus . . .” She rattled off a list of names. “All of them dug up and their bodies stolen. If I’d buried Mama again, they would have taken her body too.”

  “What did you do with . . . ?”

  “It doesn’t matter what I did,” said Gutsy viciously. “I took care of my own. She’s safe and they’ll never find her. Besides, don’t change the subject. You’re supposed to be the head of the guards, which means everyone in town is your own. Why aren’t you taking care of us?”

  Karen Peak said nothing. Her face was pale but her throat was bright red, and small red poppies seemed to bloom on her cheeks. “You don’t understand,” she said weakly.

  “You’re right. I don’t. That’s why I’m talking with you, Karen. I’m giving you a chance. I want to understand. I need to. So, why don’t you help me?”

  “Help you? Help you? You want me to help you? Fine,” said Karen angrily, “then listen to me. Go home. Never mention this again. Not to me or anyone. Don’t tell your friends. Don’t speak of it. Put it out of your mind.”

  “You really think I could do that?”

  “You have to.”

  “I can’t and I won’t,” insisted Gutsy. “Want to know why? Because I think that whatever happened to Mama has happened to a lot of people. And I think it’s going to go on happening unless someone stops it.”

  “You can’t stop it.”

  “How do you know what I can and can’t do?”

  “Gabriella—Gutsy—please . . . you can’t get involved. You can’t stop this.”

  “I can’t if you don’t help me by telling me what you know,” Gutsy countered, “but even if you don’t, I’m going to try.”

  “That’s insane. You’ll get hurt.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

  “No, you’ll get killed,” said Karen. “They—”

  “If you don’t help me,” interrupted Gutsy, “and I get killed, then it’s on you. But if you do help me, if you tell me what you know, then maybe they won’t do anything to me. Maybe I’ll be able to stay a step ahead of them. And maybe I’ll stop them from hurting other people.”

  Karen Peak laughed. It was a short, shrill laugh. “You have no idea what they are. You don’t understand why they’re doing this. You have no idea how many of them there are.”

  “Then tell me.” Gutsy almost yelled it. Sombra growled and showed his wickedly sharp teeth. Gutsy believed that if she told the coydog to attack, he would.

  Karen backed away again, shaking her head. “No. I can’t. I have a family. I have my own daughter to think about. I . . .”

  She suddenly whirled and ran away. Actually ran.

  Sombra quivered with a desire to give chase, but Gutsy stood her ground. Fists balled, jaw clenched.

  For maybe five full seconds.

  Then she and Sombra were running.

  64

  KAREN PEAK WAS FIT AND quick and ran with desperate energy.

  Gutsy caught her less than a block away.

  Quick was fine; fast was better, and Gutsy Gomez was very fast. They were still on a deserted street, but someone could come along any moment. No time to waste. She clamped a hand on Karen’s shoulder and jerked her backward with such force the woman backpedaled five steps and then sat down hard on the pavement. Gutsy had to fend Sombra off from pouncing on her.

  “What are you doing?” cried Karen. “I’m the head of the town guard, I could have you arrested for—”

  Gutsy slapped her across the face.

  It shocked Karen to utter, aghast silence. Before she could recover, Gutsy leaned in close and spoke in a fierce and uncompromising whisper. “You shut your mouth and listen to me. We’re done with you being the responsible adult and me being only a kid. You know something about what happened to Mama or you know what’s going on with the Rat Catchers, and you’re going to tell me. You don’t want to know what I’m willing to do to make you tell me.” Beside her, Sombra growled with eloquent promise.

  “You’re out of your mind,” gasped Karen as she climbed angrily to her feet.

  “Maybe so. If I am, then that’s even more of a reason not to mess with me.” Gutsy put her hand on Karen’s shoulder again. The w
oman was a few inches taller, but it was clear that she knew who held the power. Gutsy was angry, but this also made her sad. She liked Karen; she liked her daughter, Sarah, too. But she was not going to back down. Now or ever. That line had been crossed and by crossing, it had been eliminated. Now they were in a strange new territory with no clear set of rules. Fine. That meant that the person in power had to make new rules, and for the moment Gutsy was in power. Even so, she did not want to be totally ruthless. “Listen,” she said, “I know you’re scared. I’m scared too. The apocalypse happened, the dead rose, there are mutants and wolf packs and bad guys. People are dying all around us. Who isn’t scared? But being scared isn’t an excuse for standing back and looking the other way. You know who these Rat Catchers are and you’re going to tell me.”

  “My daughter . . .”

  “Yeah, your daughter. You love her, right? What makes you think Sarah will be safe just because you keep a bad secret? The Rat Catchers are hurting people. Making them sick. Killing them. They tried to kill me and I was somebody’s daughter. They—”

  “Gutsy, you really don’t understand,” interrupted Karen. “Sarah’s sick. She’s . . . infected.”

  That jolted Gutsy. “Infected? With what? One of the diseases like what Mama had?”

  Tears broke and fell down Karen’s cheeks, and in that moment, Gutsy understood.

  “She has the plague?” she gasped.

  “Yes.”

  “How? Sarah never goes outside the walls.”

  The answer was there in Karen’s silence and in her eyes. It chilled Gutsy to the marrow.

  “The Rat Catchers made her sick?” she whispered. “They gave Sarah the plague? How?”

  “They’re scientists. Maybe they injected her, maybe some other means. I don’t know. All I do know is that my daughter is infected and they have the only medicines that can keep her alive. And they’ll do that and worse to you and to me, and to anyone who interferes with their research.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Karen glanced around. They were alone on the street, but even so the woman was clearly terrified. She leaned in. “Not here. Not out in the open. I can’t.”