by Scott McCord
“Don’t worry.” Knox gulps again.
“On three,” I say. We ready ourselves. “Be fast. One, two—”
“Wait,” Knox interrupts my count.
“Dammit, Knox! Don’t be such a chicken-shit. We have to go,” Starter barks.
“No Cap, look.” Knox points over the clearing, and I see.
At this distance I can’t tell how old the girl is, but ten or twelve is a good guess. She carries one of our berry bags as she moves into the field. She slides the sack to the ground twenty feet in from the bush-line and fades back into the brush like she was never there.
“Was that a ghost?” Knox asks.
A moment later the girl reappears, shouldering two more bags of fruit. She floats out of the underbrush, closer to the bears, and slides the bags silently to the ground. The beasts are too preoccupied with Gas to notice her. She turns to our position and puts her finger to her lips, signaling us to stay quiet.
“What the hell?” Starter mutters.
The rest of the Scorpions move up to watch as the girl picks up one of the bags, spins her body for momentum, and slings it toward the bears. It hits the ground with a thud and splits open, spilling fruit into the grass. The beasts wheel about, coming to full alert at the unexpected noise.
“Get out of there, get out of there,” Starter whispers to himself as the dangerous game plays out in the meadow.
Side by side, the monsters bluster and prance back and forth, measuring the threat before committing to a full charge. But before they can decide, the girl is gone, disappearing into the bushes, leaving Gas unmolested for the first time since the beasts appeared.
“Whew,” Starter sighs. “Now what?”
“We wait,” Tommy answers.
“We wait,” I repeat. “If Gas falls, we go out with arrows flying, but for now, let’s see what our sneaky young friend has up her sleeve.”
The bears walk in wide circles around Gas, like they’ve been embarrassed and have something to prove. At least they’re not trying to drag Gas down or shake him out anymore. The beasts continue their circular patrol, until the smaller one runs across the bag of berries tossed by the girl. The bear shoves in its snout and bellows with delight. The brute isn’t inclined to share, snarling and posturing, as its companion approaches the cache of sweet goodness. No matter, the bigger animal finds another bag a little farther away, and doesn’t seem to mind when it’s mate joins in to finish it off.
“She’s drawing them away,” I whisper. “A little more and Gas can run for it.”
“Even with those things clear across the field, he’ll never make it,” Tommy says.
“We have to do something. Gas can’t stay up there all night,” Starter adds.
“He’s okay for now,” Tommy says. “Besides, that kid over there is clever. We need to let her work.” Tommy pauses. “You know what she is, don’t you Captain?”
Starter nods. “A Slitter.”
“Weird huh? Why would a Slitter put herself in danger to help one of us?”
Starter shakes his head.
“The way she moves, the way she thinks, do you know who that girl reminds me of?”
“Shut-up, Tommy,” I snap.
“What? My friend dies, and I’m never supposed to talk about her again? I don’t think so. You’re seeing the same thing I am, and that girl out there, well, she and Mim are…were cut from the same cloth.”
“Shut-up and focus. A little more room and I’m calling Gas out of the tree. Be ready to cover.”
The larger bear lumbers over to the first bag our little Slitter dropped about twenty feet from the bushes. This is our best opportunity. We have space—a head start. It’s probably not enough, but we don’t have a choice. We’ll have to…I don’t know…get lucky.
“Okay, the big one is as far away as it’s going to get. We’ll wait for the other one to move off, and we go for Gas.”
“He’s not fast enough,” Tommy says.
“You got a better idea?” I snap.
Tommy shakes his head no.
“Then we go on my signal.” I look to Starter. He nods he’s with me.
We wait for the second bear to finish eating and wander over to join its mate at the final bag of berries.
“That’s it,” I say. “Everybody ready? Knox, you ready?”
“Uh-huh.”
I cup my hand around my mouth to call Gas, when a thundering roar explodes across the meadow, stopping me cold. The terrible sound crashes against the trees like a shockwave as the larger bear howls and skidders away from its berry meal like lightning struck it in the ass. The smaller bear stops eating to look around at its companion, but when it gets popped, it leaps straight up like a startled cat, yowling, and scurries to its mate’s side. Their noses go to the air to determine if the assailant is anything more than a couple of bees.
“What did they walk into?” Starter asks.
I shake my head I don’t know, and Tommy says nothing, as the uncomfortable bears twitch in the field. They seem to be settling down when the smaller beast jerks around with another yelp, sounding more like a dog than a bear. It looks like it’s trying to kiss its own butt, flinching hard when it’s hit again, turning to chase its ass the opposite way. The hide of the larger bear jumps each time it’s struck. Bellows of pain rattle the Ark, driving off every other animal for miles in its wake. The monster-bear swats the air to no avail before finally charging off through the trees with its partner—tails tucked and not looking back.
“Holy shit,” Knox breathes.
“Holy shit,” Tommy agrees.
“Holy shit!” Gas yells from the tree.
We move into the meadow to collect Gas as he drops to the ground. Starter orders some men to search the bushes for the Slitter girl, but they find nothing. When Tommy and I look, we can tell there were four of them, but there’s no way to determine which way they went. Leave no trace—the cardinal rule of my former mentor.
The men collect their gear and shoulder the remaining berry bags for transport to Community. There’s not much left of the day, so we put all the ground we can between ourselves and the meadow before settling down to run a cold camp. Gas, Tommy, and I sit apart from the group as the final breath of day fades out through the trees above. Starter strolls over to join us.
“What happened today?” Starter looks at Gas.
“Big bears.”
Starter smirks at Gas’s response, picks up a stick and starts to draw circles on the ground. “Why do you think a Slitter would want to save you?”
“Maybe she’s his fairy godmother,” Tommy answers.
“Maybe because I’m so handsome,” Gas suggests.
“Maybe because he was the one who needed saving…after Thatcher that is,” I say.
“Have you ever seen that girl before?” Starter continues.
I don’t like the sound of his question. “What are you driving at, Captain?”
“Gas?”
“No, I have never seen that girl before, but if I ever see her again, I’m going to give her a big hug, carry her around on my shoulders, and feed her lots of bacon.”
Starter huffs and shakes his head. “I don’t understand.” There is no more accusation in his voice. “Why would a Slitter risk her life for a Scorpion—an enemy?”
“Are we enemies?” Tommy asks.
“They’re Slitters.”
“I thought we had a treaty.”
“Then what were they doing on our side of Middle Ground?”
“Saving Gas.”
Starter shakes his head. “No. They were stealing Community provisions.” He sighs and looks to Tommy. “What do you think we’re doing out here? What do you think you’re training these men for? Slitters are a bunch of cutthroats and kidnappers. They’ve violated every agreement we’ve ever had. They squander, wasting resources—resources we need to survive. Without them, Community will thrive.”
“Without them, Gas is dead,” Tommy shoots back.
“
If you have something to say, civilian, spit it out,” Starter snaps.
“I saw a little girl beat down a couple of monsters that had a squad of Scorpions shitting their britches. Do you think it’s wise to pick a fight with people whose children—children—are that much better than we are?”
“She got lucky,” Starter growls.
“No, Gas got lucky. She was good…and well-equipped. I found this in the field.” Tommy tosses what looks to be a dart on the ground in front of Starter. “Be careful how you touch it, Captain, I have blisters from holding it too close to the tip.” Starter picks up the dart to examine it. I slide closer to get a look as well. “Doesn’t look like much, but if it makes bears jump, can you imagine what it would do to one of us?”
Starter shakes his head, trying to reconcile what he knows and what he has seen. “I just don’t understand why she would help us. Slitters don’t do that.” He turns the dart over in his hand. “Ouch! Shit!”
“I told you to watch the tip.”
11
Mim
“That was great! I can’t wait to tell Jack we popped the King and Queen,” Ben chirps as we make our way back to the Utugi camp. Hidden sentries standing in the trees let us pass as the children babble about the adventure.
“We not only popped the fool out of them,” Jeremy says, “but we made them skedaddle like they never skedaddled before…tails tucked and everything. I didn’t know a bear could jump so high, but when you nailed him with that second dart, the King looked like he was going right through the top of the Ark.”
“That was funny,” Rosie laughs. “Didn’t you think that was funny, Mim?”
I don’t answer, because I don’t think any of it’s funny, especially Scorpions so deep in the woods…so far from Community. I shift our last bag of berries from one shoulder to the other. Why is Will doing this? He’s going to get someone killed. I’ve scouted everything including the fringes clear out to the Edge, and I’ve found no evidence that the Utugi tribe is any larger than Jonathan says. So if Will brings Scorpions out here, these people won’t stand a chance. Community will invade. I don’t know why I care. Jonathan is gone all the time, I’m on permanent babysitting detail with these three kids, and everyone else keeps me at arm’s length. The infamous Cassandra hasn’t even spoken to me. She just glares…a lot…old crone.
“Mim?”
“No, I didn’t think it was funny, and I didn’t like you being seen. I should never have taken you across Middle Ground. You were right, we should have left Community to take care of itself.”
The children are surprised by my reaction.
“It was still cool,” Ben says.
“Yeah, dangerball and shooting bears, it was the best day—ever!” Jeremy adds.
“If we hadn’t helped,” Rosie says, “somebody would’ve died.”
“I’m afraid somebody is going to die anyway.” I stop before saying—because of what we did. “Here, Ben, take the sack. We’re almost home so make sure Mary gets it.”
Ben turns around and I slide the bag of stolen fruit from my shoulder to his. He takes it with a smile as Jeremy continues on about the bears and dangerball. He chatters, and the weight of the day comes to rest squarely on my head. I need to speak with Jonathan about Will and the Scorpions before anyone else finds out. There’s no sense in upsetting everybody until we have a plan, so Jeremy needs to shut up.
“I know you guys want to tell all about the King and Queen, but it might be better to keep it to ourselves for now.” The children look at me like I’m stupid. I lower my voice and step closer like I’m about to share the most valuable secret in the world. “When I was little, Jonathan taught me sometimes the bravest thing you can do, is say nothing about the brave thing you did.”
“You don’t want us to tell about the bears?” Rosie asks.
I shake my head I don’t.
Ben scrunches his face. “Why?”
“You need to trust me. Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” they answer begrudgingly, and promise not to say anything until I do. The kids traipse behind me in disappointed silence, every step making them braver and more devoted to our pact of secrecy. Even so, I won’t be winning a popularity contest anytime soon.
I’ll deliver the news to Johnathan privately, and let him decide what to do. The Scorpions aren’t training for polite conversation, so I hope there’s more fight in these ragtag people than I’ve seen so far. They’re clever, but there aren’t many of them…and nobody looks real tough. If Community wants, it will eat these people alive.
The day has been long, too long, and as the broken sunlight speckling the forest floor begins to dim, the faint scent of a smoldering fire wafts out to greet us. We’re nearly home. When the boys realize where we are, Ben drops his bag, and they take off straight for camp.
“Guess what? Guess what?” Jeremy calls out as he clears the first tent. I hear a woman tell the boys to slow down as the secret they agreed to keep proves too much to contain.
“I’m sorry,” Rosie says, hoisting the dropped sack of berries to her shoulder. “Everyone wants a shot at the King and Queen…it’s kind of a big deal. I knew Ben and Jeremy wouldn’t last two seconds without spilling the beans.”
I shake my head. “It was a lot to ask.”
“Especially of boys.” Rosie smiles, and we walk into camp together.
By the time we arrive, a small crowd is gathered around Ben and Jeremy, but the boys still haven’t settled down. They’re talking fast and over each other so their audience is only getting snatches of dangerball, Scorpions, and giant bears. They mix a few things up, but I don’t bother correcting them…this is their story. Rosie stands beside me and lets the sack of fruit slide to her feet.
“There was a bunch of guys picking berries, so we stayed low thinking we might get a chance to help ourselves to a bag or two. They didn’t even know we were there,” Ben says.
The crowd grows larger, and Johnathan’s face appears among the people across from me. Cassandra joins him.
“They started playing dangerball and we begged Mim to let us watch,” Ben adds.
“Who was playing dangerball?” Jonathan interrupts.
“The Scorpions, but it was only a pick-up game. There wasn’t a pit or an arena or anything like that.”
“How do you know they were Scorpions and not Community scouts?”
Ben shrugs. “They wore black and crimson, all except one.”
“And where was this, exactly?”
“In the meadow by the berry bushes,” Jeremy answers.
“Across Middle Ground?” Cassandra asks. Her voice is younger than I imagined.
The boys glance at one another and then back to me before dropping their eyes to the ground. In all the excitement, they’d forgotten about breaking the rules.
“Yes ma’am,” Ben gulps.
“Yes ma’am,” Jeremy echoes.
An uncomfortable hush falls over the camp as the boys, Rosie, and me are showered in disapproving stares. A murmur snakes its way through the crowd, and I’m sure it’s about the dangerous girl who shouldn’t be here in the first place. I haven’t done much to win the trust of anybody, and I feel more like an outsider than ever. Jonathan glares at me, but I refuse to make eye contact.
“I’m sorry,” Rosie whispers. I give her a half-smile and drape my arm across her shoulders.
“Go on, boys,” Cassandra says.
Ben and Jeremy look up. All excitement is gone, and now the story of their heroics is more like a confession than an adventure. Their voices are barely audible until someone tells them to speak up. They tell about swiping the berry bags while the Scorpions were having their game.
“It looked like fun,” Jeremy states, “but Rosie says it wasn’t real dangerball…not the kind Mim plays.” He glances at me, but I don’t react.
“We’ve never been to a real match before, so we made Mim let us stay and watch. She said we should leave, but we didn’t want to,” Ben adds. “And
then the bears came.”
“It was the King and Queen,” Jeremy pops. “They crashed right into the clearing, charging down some cripple, but a big guy drew them away. He wound up in a tree with those bears about to claw him down any second. We decided to help.”
“What did you do?” Cassandra asks.
“Well, we had some double-dips that we took from Mary.” Ben looks to find Mary standing beside Jack. “Sorry Mary, I know we shouldn’t have taken them without asking.” Mary purses her lips, and Ben continues. “Rosie lured the bears into range.” Cassandra and Johnathan glance at Rosie. She drops her head to avoid their gaze. “And when they were close enough, we drilled them good with all we had.”
“I never saw something so big jump so high. The old King went straight up like a startled jackrabbit. That must have been a super batch of double-dips, because you could hear those bears yowling clear across the Ark,” Jeremy spouts. He’s more excited than contrite now, and his tone dials Ben right back up.
“It was so great—the best time I’ve ever had.” Ben looks around expecting approval, but finds only sullen faces. The writing is on the wall. Cassandra and Johnathan are unhappy. The boys drop their heads in a false air of regret, trying not to smile as their eyes flash with the day’s fun.
“Were you seen?” Cassandra asks.
“Only me.” Rosie steps forward.
“And how far beyond Middle Ground were you?”
Her question isn’t meant for me, but I answer anyway. “Not far.”
“The berry bushes are a couple hundred yards over,” Johnathan says.
“About,” I answer, locking eyes on Cassandra. “But you know what? I’m tired of the third degree. You people treat me like a turd in the grass. If you want to blame me for Rosie being seen, fine. We weren’t doing anything everybody else doesn’t do. Maybe you shouldn’t have kidnapped me in the first place.”
Everyone looks to Cassandra, but she doesn’t even acknowledge I’ve spoken. She says something to Johnathan and walks away. The last breath of day has faded, leaving us in the wake of darkness. Insects join each other in a nightly chorus and people gathered for the story of bears, slowly disperse, murmuring about Scorpions in the woods.