Rise of the Scorpion

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Rise of the Scorpion Page 23

by Scott McCord


  “What is it?” a woman finally asks.

  “Loppers,” I say, staring into the distance. “A whole herd of them.” When I turn back, I’m met with a host of terrified eyes. “Don’t worry. They’re harmless Outside. I’m told you can throw a rope around the lead one, and they’ll follow you anywhere you go.”

  Rosie pipes up, “Like a bunch of dimwitted chickens at feeding time.”

  “Just like that,” I say.

  I look to the sky. I’m pretty sure I can make it to Community and back before sunrise if I leave now. I have to tell Gas I’m sorry—tell him I’m sorry about Ellie, tell him what we’re doing, and tell him about New Hope. He might come with us. Ellie would want him to, but even if he doesn’t, I owe him the opportunity. I can’t leave without saying good-bye. He’s the only one of us who is still what he used to be.

  Cassandra arrives. She is the last, strolling down to the Edge and shading her eyes to gaze out at the herd of Loppers moving by. She watches them and we watch them with her, until she finally turns and motions for us to sit.

  “So here we are,” she says, “at the end of an old life and the beginning of a new one. It’s like being born again…and we all know how difficult and dangerous birth can be. We’ve done all we can in the Ark and now we are off to a new purpose…the next purpose with the Redeemed. We are more than pilgrims, we are guardians of hope.”

  Cassandra paces in front of the crowd, motioning, using her hands to accent every encouraging word as she spins our dire circumstances into a noble mission only we can fulfill. The people listen and find courage as she speaks. It is easy to see how Cassandra came to lead the Utugi. She’s not a liar, but this woman could offer you a bear dung sandwich and make you believe your sole purpose in life was to eat it.

  “We are ready to embark on a new adventure, in a new place, with new challenges...” Cassandra glances my way as she speaks, but when she looks again, I’m gone.

  I have my bow, my knife, and Will’s Bowie. I’m going back for Gas. There’s time, but not much, so I run. My breath is heavy and blood thumps in my ears, but I’m still careful to leave no signs. Tommy knows where we are, but there’s no sense in making finding us any easier than it already is.

  I avoid the bluff where Jack and Ben were shot, circling down closer to where Will caught me at the Edge. The sun is sinking faster than I’d hoped, so I trade all caution for speed, abandoning every lesson of stealth in the woods. If I’m going to make it to Community and back before daybreak, I can’t worry about leaving a trail. Besides, if everything goes as it should, I’ll speak with Gas and no one will be the wiser. If he wants to go, if I can talk him into it, I’ll come back after the Utugi are safe at New Hope. It will take time to get him ready to cross.

  §

  Sometime between sunset and moonrise, when the sky is darkest, I approach a slick creek gully with bridges spanning its sides. Community is close. I move up through the trees trying to decide if I should slide down the steep embankment and climb the other side, or risk crossing one of the bridges. I’d rather not go through the water, but getting caught in the open would be disaster. Darkness is on my side for now, but the moon will be coming up, lighting the whole place like an overcast day. Where are the sentries? I haven’t spotted a single one yet. I get low and move in for a better look.

  I slow my breathing. The trickle of the creek and the baritone frogs it lives with, fills my ears. Crickets emerge from every hiding place to join them. Someone coughs on the far side. I freeze. A spark is struck, and a torch comes to life in the hands of a massive Scorpion guard. I didn’t see him before. He appears to be alone. The Scorpion strolls out onto the only bridge with handrails, raises the light to look over the side, clears his throat and spits. The ink of night absorbs his torch until it’s no brighter than a distant star, leaving only a faint glow to illume the Scorpion’s face…but it’s enough to recognize Gas.

  Goose bumps race down my spine and every tiny hair on my body, comes to standing. I shrink back to deeper cover. My hands tremble and my mouth turns to cinder. It’s almost more frightening that it’s Gas and not someone else. It was too easy to find him. This isn’t what I expected, and I need a moment to think before I show myself…no…I can’t chicken out now. This is why I’ve come.

  I rise from the bushes and step away from their protection. “Hello,” I say.

  “Who’s there?” the Scorpion asks, raising his torch for a better look. The light is weak and falls short of where I stand. I could back away and he’d never know it was me. “Who’s there?” he repeats, more menacing this time.

  “Gas,” I say, “it’s me…Mim.”

  Confusion sweeps his face. Without saying anything, he crosses the bridge toward me, stopping near the end of the structure. I move closer. The halo of the torch is a half-step away. All I have to do is lean forward, and he’ll see my face. A lump swells in my throat, and I wonder if this was a good idea.

  He sniffles. “Mim? Really?”

  There’s a soft familiarity in his voice. “Yes, really,” I say, and move into the light.

  He stares down in wonderment, absorbing me with his eyes, fumbling with the notion this is some sort of horrible joke. His throat trips, and a glistening trail runs down his cheek. Gas lowers his arm, letting the torch slide from his fingers. It lies burning on the deck of the bridge.

  “Mim? Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  He reaches for me, pulling me off my feet into a grand hug. I drop my bow and put my arms around his neck. My stomach knots and convulses with too many emotions. He buries his face next to mine and lets his feeling spill out over my shoulder. The sound of my big friend crying burns in my temples, and tears I should have shed long ago roll across my cheeks. I’m glad to be in his arms. It’s been a terribly long day.

  Gas sets me to the ground and wipes his eyes. “It’s really you,” he says, picking up his torch. “What happened?”

  “A lot,” I say.

  “You know, we won the Grand Championship?”

  “Tommy’s goal counted?”

  He nods. “Do you know about Ellie?”

  “Will told me.”

  “Will knows you’re alive? You talked to him?”

  “Yes…this morning…right before he tried to shoot me.”

  Gas shakes his head, letting out a huge sigh.

  “Tommy saved me,” I say.

  “Yeah, Tommy is the same guy—more serious…not as happy, but he does what he does like always. He’s still his own man. But Will worries me.” Gas purses his lips. “Ellie really affected him…and losing you, and his parents getting killed…he needs somebody to blame…he needs a purpose…a reason to get up in the morning. I guess being a Scorpion does it for him. He’s become a pretty important guy—meeting with Ayden, Ven, and Starter all the time, making plans, and stoking up the war-effort.”

  “There’s a war-effort?”

  “A big one…the Barbarian Resolution…to cleanse the Ark.”

  “Are you serious?”

  He nods. “The military is up to six or seven hundred men when you count the Scorpions and militia together. Soldiers are being trained every day, and with all the focus on the Slitters, there’s a lot more freedom and prosperity in the groups. The war-effort is good for Community. People like it.”

  “How about you, Gas, do you like it?”

  “You know me, I’ll fight if I have to, but this seems to be more about economics. Will fixed it so all I really have to do is build stuff. Technically I’m a Scorpion, but I don’t much care for the military. I only work these bridges so regular people will be safe when Brother Ark decides to leave.”

  “Sounds like you haven’t changed much either.”

  “I’m sadder.” He looks down, his torch flickering as suicidal insects dip into the light.

  “Me too,” I say, and let the crickets and frogs have the next few moments of conversation to themselves. “So, what are you doing out here in the dark?”


  “I’m supposed to be guarding the bridges from Slitters,” he groans.

  “Just you?”

  “No, there are three militia boys out here with me. I sent them to get dinner in Group 14.” Gas smiles. “It’s good to see you, Mim. I’ve missed you.”

  “I miss you too.”

  “You’ve been gone a long time.”

  I nod I have.

  “Mim?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you a Slitter now?”

  “I suppose.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “To get you…to come with me.”

  His eyes crinkle into questions. “To go with you? Why?”

  “Because Ellie would want you to.”

  36

  Mim

  “There isn’t much time,” I say. “You have to trust me. The Utugi…the Slitters aren’t what you think. They’re not going to attack this bridge or raid Community.”

  “They killed Tommy’s mom.”

  I shake my head. “Do you think I’d have any part of murder?”

  Gas looks down at me. Shadows from the torch dance across his face. “I know you wouldn’t.”

  His answer tells me I’ve done right by coming. Things suddenly seem terribly urgent. I pick my words carefully. “I’m going to trust you first, so you’ll trust me back, okay?”

  Gas says nothing, waiting for me to continue.

  “There is a place with real homes and real farms—a permanent place that doesn’t move and doesn’t leave anyone behind. It’s a place where you can be what you want to be and do what you want to do, where families stay together a long time, and men and women grow old. There is no culling. There is no pairing. It’s not like the Ark. There is plenty for everyone.”

  Gas is silent as I speak. I’m afraid he doesn’t believe me.

  “The Slitters are going to this place, and they are taking people from Community with them. It’s a brand-new life outside the Ark, away from The Body. It’s what we’ve been waiting for, and it’s ready for us…it’s ready for us now.”

  I’m not sure if I’m babbling or begging.

  “I want you to come. I need you to come. This thing you’re doing with the Scorpions will end badly…it always ends badly…I know Ellie wouldn’t want that for you.”

  “So that’s why you’re here? To get me.”

  “It is,” I say, and another thought strikes me. I slide the Bowie from my belt and lay it on the handrail of the bridge. “And to leave Will something of his father’s.”

  Gas looks down at the big knife. “This place, is it far away?”

  “Hard to get to, but not far. You can’t go tonight, but if you want, I’ll come back and we’ll go together.”

  Gas drops his eyes and scratches the back of his head the way he does when he thinks. I’m sure he’s about to say yes, but when he looks up, something startles him.

  “Holy crap,” he exclaims, “why didn’t you tell me someone was with you?”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Rosie says stepping into the light.

  Every fiber of my body stands on end. I’m furious. This is the second time I’ve been followed today, and this kid being here makes everything riskier than it needs to be. She has to go home, and I have to take her. Cutting my conversation short with Gas for this little pain in the butt infuriates me, but ripping into her now will only make things worse, so I bite my lip, keep my cool, and look for a way to work the situation.

  “Gas, this is Rosie. Rosie, this is Gas,” I say through gritted teeth.

  “You look familiar. How do I know you?” Gas asks.

  “We never really met. You were in a tree, trying to keep from seeing the inside of a bear.”

  “And you’re the girl who saved me.”

  “It wasn’t just me. Ben and Jeremy—” Rosie breaks off. “It wasn’t just me.”

  “Rosie, what are you doing here?” I ask.

  “Being a busybody. I heard what you were saying, and thought I’d come over and offer my personal invitation to your friend. After all, I’ve been Utugi most of my life, and you’re still new.”

  Rosie steps over to Gas and takes his free hand in hers. “You remind me of a bigger version of a friend I have…a friend I used to have until today, although I suspect you’re more pleasant than he is…was.” She regards Gas under the torch light, searching his face, perhaps wondering if he could ever be a surrogate Jack. “I think I’d like it if you would come to New Hope with us.”

  Gas starts to answer, I think to say yes, but approaching voices interrupt him.

  “Do you here that?” I hiss.

  Gas nods. “It’s the militia guys coming back from dinner.”

  “I thought you said it was three—that’s more than three.”

  “Sounds like it. You two hide. I’ll find out what this is about, but if I can’t get rid of them, don’t come out…no matter what. Do you understand?”

  “I understand.”

  “Promise, Mim?”

  I’m listening to the voices, trying to count them in my head.

  “Mim, do you promise me?”

  “Yes, yes, I promise.”

  “Because if you do something stupid, and Rosie ends up getting caught—”

  “I said I promise.”

  “Good, because things are getting crazier and crazier around here, and I don’t want to worry about anybody but myself. Rosie, thanks for keeping me outside the bear. I owe you bacon, lots of bacon. Now move.”

  Rosie shoots Gas a thumbs up, I pick up my bow, and we fade into the trees as three militia men and a dozen Scorpions with torches arrive. Their voices are clear in the nighttime air.

  “Well, well,” Gas calls, strolling back to the middle of the bridge. “I didn’t know we were having a party tonight. How are you, Figg?”

  “I’m fine, Gas, how are you?”

  “I’m hungry. What are you doing here?”

  “Just walking your men back to duty where they belong.” A tall, slender Scorpion with a torch walks out on the bridge, pats Gas on the shoulder as he goes by, and leans against the handrail about six feet from where I left Will’s knife.

  “You let them get a hot meal, didn’t you?” Gas asks.

  “This isn’t an officer’s club,” the slender Scorpion scoffs. “They have grain pouches and waterskins like the rest of the men on sentry.” He straightens up and turns to give the railing a quick jerk. “Damn, this thing is solid…probably hold two ox carts at once. How do you get these so tight?”

  “What do you want, Figg?” Gas asks.

  Figg raises his torch and calls to his squad of Scorpions. “Bring those boys over here so I don’t have to repeat myself.”

  There’s a short scuffle on the other side, but the militia boys know better than to resist too much. Men in crimson and black shove the lesser soldiers stumbling onto the bridge.

  Gas bows up to his full height, “Figg, what is this?” he rumbles.

  Figg scratches the back of his head like he’s put out by the question. “Nothing personal, just orders.”

  “Orders for what?”

  He steps up. The slender Scorpion is almost as tall as Gas, but only a third the width. “Now look, I’ve had a bad day. You might not know, but we ran into a bunch of Slitters on patrol. We got two of them, but not before they took out Thatcher and Knox. That dangerball girl you and Will used to play with, was the shooter. Can you believe it? No one saw that coming for a million miles.”

  Gas’s face turns to stone under the torch light. I take Rosie by the wrist.

  “Is he going to turn us in?” she whispers.

  “I don’t know,” I whisper back. “Be ready.”

  Rosie nods, and we continue watching the men on the bridge.

  Figg strolls toward our end, dragging his hand along the rail. He stops when his fingers brush over Will’s knife. He takes up the sheathed blade and examines it under his light. I see him smirk from where I’m hiding. He whirls aroun
d.

  “The first three bridges,” he orders, and four men trot down the bank into the darkness, torches bobbing as they go.

  “What are you doing?” Gas growls.

  “Ven thinks it’s important to keep up the war-effort. Things are better that way, but if the enemy doesn’t ever do anything…well, we have to improvise. The machine takes sacrifice. You can’t win people unless you give them what they expect, even if it isn’t necessarily what they want.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I don’t know, something Ven said. You know how he can be sometimes. Anyway, I’m out here to ask if I can burn a few bridges to keep things going. The bad guys have to do something sometime if they’re going to stay scary.”

  “You’re going to do this and blame the Slitters.”

  “Not as dumb as people say, are you?”

  “But why do you have to do anything else? Isn’t it bad enough the Slitters killed our guys today?”

  “Yeah, that was a hiccup…didn’t really expect that, and Ven doesn’t want it interfering with the bigger plan. So how about the bridges?”

  “No.”

  “Come on, Gas, we’re only talking three bridges. The Slitters will get the blame, and you can build them right back. Besides, you owe me. You wouldn’t be working out here at all if Ven hadn’t sent me to retire the old builder.”

  “It was you? You killed Will’s father?”

  “Don’t forget the two women.”

  “Why?”

  “Orders…something about a debt and the price for disobedience. You know how Ven is…doesn’t like to let things go.”

  Down the creek, flames explode into the sky, licking at treetops, followed by the cracking and popping of burning wood. The Scorpions, the militia, Gas, and Figg, are instantly bathed in yellow light, throwing their disproportionate shadows to the ground. Without the cover of darkness, my hiding place evaporates, leaving me and Rosie clearly visible to anyone who is looking. No one is, but Gas.

  “Run!” he yells. I hesitate. “Get Rosie out of here!” he screams.

  “Come on, Rosie,” I say, but she doesn’t move, stunned by the sudden light and volume of flames. “Let’s go.” I take her arm and hustle her into the brush. I stop for a last glance at my friend.

 

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