Black Water

by D. J. MacHale

  Bobby nodded. “Okay, good plan. But . . . how? This gig doesn’t have any weapons, does it?”

  “Let me ask you something, Pendragon,” Kasha said, avoiding the question. “How important is this? I mean, if the worst happens and Saint Dane destroys Eelong, what does that mean for the rest of Halla?”

  Bobby shrugged. “I don’t exactly know. I think Saint Dane got more powerful after wrecking Veelox. I can only imagine that he’d get stronger still if he won on Eelong, and it would be that much harder to stop him.”

  “And if he isn’t stopped? I mean, if he gets what he wants and takes control of Halla. What does that mean?”

  “I’ve asked myself that question a million times,” Bobby said. “I’ve only heard bits and pieces, so I don’t even come close to understanding it all, but I believe there’s a more powerful force at work in Halla. It’s a positive force. I think it’s what makes things right. Don’t ask me what I mean by that, because I’m not sure myself. But I think that’s what the war with Saint Dane is all about. I believe he’s trying to destroy whatever it is that makes things right. It’s way bigger than the problems of any one territory. I think if Saint Dane takes control, there will be no more order. I’m not even sure what that means, but it won’t be good.”

  Kasha thought about his answer for a moment, then said, “So if you’re right, stopping Saint Dane is the single most important task in the history of everything.”

  Bobby nodded. “I guess you could say that.”

  “Then it’s worth dying for,” Kasha said.

  Bobby snapped her a look. In that one moment he came to a realization. Kasha may have been the most difficult Traveler to convince of the importance of their mission, but now that she understood, she saw it more clearly than any of them. Nobody had put it out there as plainly as that. Kasha wasn’t in it for the adventure, or for revenge, or because she wasn’t given a choice. Of all the Travelers, Kasha now believed in their mission so wholeheartedly, she was willing to die for it. The question immediately sprang to Bobby’s mind: Was he willing to do the same?

  “Does this mean you don’t know how to bring down that gig without getting us killed?” Bobby asked nervously.

  Kasha looked ahead. Her eyes narrowed. “There it is,” she announced.

  Bobby scanned the sky. He soon made out a small speck of yellow in the distance. They were catching up.

  * * *

  The tang had Spader and Courtney backed into a dead end. They both smelled the putrid odor it gave off when it was ready to feed.

  “Two on one,” Courtney said.

  “Could be worse,” Spader said bravely.

  Three _ more tangs dropped down from above, making Courtney jump back in surprise.

  “Just got worse,” Courtney said weakly.

  The tangs stood in twos. They slowly stalked forward, their vile smell making Courtney gag. “Is it gonna end here?” she asked, her voice cracking.

  “If it does,” Spader said, “it won’t be because we didn’t give ’em a go.”

  With one quick move, Spader reached both hands back over his head, grabbed the shoulders of his harness, and pulled it up and over, tank and all. He bashed one end of the tank on the ground, hard enough to smash off the nozzle. A jet of high-pressure liquid shot from the broken valve like a portable water cannon. The chemical spewed at the tangs, making them scream and back away. The surprised beasts waved at the rush of chemicals with their lizard arms . . . and fled.

  “We got ’em!” Spader shouted, and took off in pursuit. Courtney followed right behind. Spader kept the spewing tank aimed at the squealing lizards. When the tangs reached the mouth of the crevice, they kept going and jumped right off the ledge, tumbling down the side of the steep mountain to escape from the attack. Spader kept the high-pressure tank aimed down at them until the chemical finally ran out.

  “That was awesome!” Courtney yelled. “How did you know it would work?”

  “I didn’t,” Spader answered with a chuckle. “Lucky us.”

  Spader tossed the empty tank aside and said, “Except now we’re down to two tanks.”

  “Wrong,” Courtney corrected. “We’re down to one tank, and Mark’s got it. The tank on my back’s no good if we can’t get it to Black Water.”

  Spader put his hands on his hips and looked back into the crevice. He stared into the opening, then his eyes traveled up the craggy face of the mountain.

  “What are you thinking?” Courtney asked.

  “Those wogglies got up there somehow.”

  “You’re kidding?” Courtney said. “You want us to climb over this mountain?”

  “Well, like you said, this tank’s not doing any good out here.”

  Courtney glanced up at the mountain, imagining what it would be like to climb up the rocky face. She had been to the climbing gym back in Stony Brook many times, and was pretty good at it. But that was always with a rope for safety. And a big thick pad on the floor.

  “If you can’t make it, I can go myself,” Spader said.

  Courtney Chetwynde never, ever backed down from a challenge. She wasn’t going to start now.

  “I’ll lead,” she said, and began climbing up the craggy face.

  EELONG

  (CONTINUED)

  The small, yellow gig grew larger in front of Bobby and Kasha as they sped to catch up. Bobby looked to the ground below where thousands of gars were making their way along the route to Black Water. They looked to Bobby like an army of ants, all moving toward the same goal. Bobby nudged Kasha and pointed down. She looked and nodded. “It really is incredible” was all she could say.

  Far ahead, the gray mountains that held Black Water were in sight.

  “Don’t worry,” Kasha said. “We’ll catch him.”

  “Then what?” Bobby asked.

  Kasha didn’t answer. Bobby truly felt as if her plan was to pull a kamikaze stunt and crash into the gig to knock it out of the sky. The idea terrified him, of course, but he was torn. If this was the only way to stop Saint Dane, then maybe this is what had to be done. He could only hope that Kasha was a good enough pilot to land their gig once it was crippled by a collision. One thing he knew for sure: There were no parachutes on board. He wouldn’t be able to bail out the way he did with Jinx Olsen’s plane. If the gig went down, they were going down with it.

  They were near enough to the yellow gig so that Bobby could see the klee pilot was looking down, probably to check Seegen’s map against the terrain. Bobby figured that the pilot was so intent on carrying out the mission, he never thought there might be somebody chasing him. Kasha kept their gig directly behind him so there was less chance of him catching sight of them if he looked off to either side.

  “I don’t want to have to crash into him,” Kasha said, as if reading Bobby’s mind. “But I will if I have to. There’s a chance we’d survive, but I wouldn’t bet on it.”

  “Me neither. Is there a Plan A?”

  “The gigs have a tool package underneath,” Kasha explained. “That’s where we keep the net for harvesting and a few other cutting tools.”

  “Can we get to them?” Bobby asked.

  “No,” Kasha answered, smiling slyly. “But we can dump them. I wonder what would happen if they landed on his main rotors?”

  Bobby smiled with relief. Kasha had a nonsuicide plan after all. If they could fly over the gig and dump the tool package, the netting and the other tools might foul the klee’s rotors.

  “I like this,” Bobby said. “Can you get on top of him? He’s going pretty fast.”

  “I can catch him anytime I want,” Kasha said. “I was waiting until we hit . . . that.” She pointed out in front of them to the huge lake they had detoured around on their previous trip to Black Water. “It’s better if he crashes in the water than on a bunch of innocent gars.”

  Bobby chuckled. Kasha knew exactly what she was doing.

  “Strap in,” she ordered. “This might get bumpy.”

  Bobby quickly sli
pped the safety straps that were built into the seats around his shoulders. Kasha did the same. A quick look down told them that the klee pilot was nearing the shore of the lake. They would have a short window of opportunity when he was flying directly over the water. After that he’d be back over the streaming mass of gars on the far side. They had to make their move now. Kasha reached for the throttle. Bobby felt the gig shudder. He had thought they were flying under full power. He was wrong. The little gig shot forward with such force that Bobby was pressed back into his seat. Kasha nosed the craft up and they rose higher. Timing was going to be critical. They needed to fly directly over the other gig, which was pretty dangerous in itself, and drop the tool package before the klee pilot realized what was happening. Then they had to hope it would do enough damage that the gig would crash into the lake.

  Bobby held his breath. Kasha maneuvered their gig closer to the klee. They were only a few yards behind the yellow gig when Kasha toggled a switch on her control panel. Bobby heard a mechanical sound, along with a bump. It reminded him of the sound he heard on passenger planes when they dropped the landing gear. He figured that Kasha had opened up the tool hatch below.

  Kasha eased their gig forward. She flew with one hand on the joystick and the other on the control panel, fine-tuning the rotors. Bobby’s heart leaped. They were actually going to do it!

  But there was one thing Kasha hadn’t counted on—the sunbelt. The band of light in the sky was behind them. As soon as they got above and behind the yellow gig, their shadow crept over their quarry. The klee pilot saw the looming shadow and spun around in surprise. Busted.

  “Drop the tools!’ Bobby shouted.

  “We’re not over him!” Kasha shouted back.

  The klee pilot instantly dove down and away to his left. Kasha didn’t panic. She dove right after him. The quick drop made Bobby’s stomach lurch. Now it was a true chase, because their prey was on the run. The klee pilot was good. He made quick, evasive maneuvers to try and ditch them. Kasha matched him, turn for turn. They were like two jet pilots in a dogfight.

  “Don’t lose sight of him,” Kasha ordered.

  The klee pulled out of his dive into a steep and sudden climb. Kasha wasn’t fooled. She stayed with him, pointing the nose of their gig to the sky. The sudden change pushed both of them back into their seats with such g force that it slammed Bobby’s head into the back of the seat. It felt like a ten-ton giant just sat in his lap. The only thing he could move were his eyes.

  “Look!” he shouted.

  The klee’s gig suddenly began to fall straight down, as if he had lost power. It plummeted toward the ground, twisting in the air like a feather.

  “What happened?” Bobby shouted. “Is he crashing?”

  “No, he cut the rotors,” Kasha said. “He’s good. I’m better.”

  Kasha didn’t use the same maneuver. Instead she went into a power dive that was so sudden, it made them both go weightless. Seconds later, after Bobby fought back the urge to puke, he looked around for the yellow gig. It was nowhere to be seen.

  “Where is he?” Bobby shouted.

  Kasha had lost sight of him too. She looked around quickly, then shouted, “There!”

  Sure enough, the yellow gig was back under power. It had righted itself far below them and was headed in the opposite direction, back toward Leeandra.

  “He’s going back,” Bobby shouted. “He’s giving up!”

  Kasha watched the yellow gig, trying to guess her quarry’s thoughts. “He knows he can’t outmaneuver us with that heavy tank in front.”

  “Exactly! That’s why he’s going back.”

  They both watched as the yellow gig dropped low to the ground, barely at treetop level. The side rotors twisted to the horizontal position, parallel with the body, which slowed the gig down considerably.

  “Why’s he slowing down?” Bobby asked.

  “Because he’s not going back,” Kasha exclaimed. “He’s setting up for a run.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “He’s getting in position, as if he were going to spray fertilizer,” Kasha said.

  “But why would he—” Bobby didn’t finish the question because the answer hit him a second later. The klee pilot knew he didn’t stand a chance against Kasha, so he was going to make sure he was successful in at least one part of his mission. He was going to go back and dump the poison on the thousands of gars on the ground.

  • • •

  Gunny trotted out from the crevice on his zenzen and looked out over the beautiful crater of waterfalls. He was followed right behind by Boon and Mark.

  “Wow” was all Mark could say as he got his first glimpse of the wooded valley and the seven waterfalls that fed the lake at the bottom. The sunbelt had made its way up over the rim of the crater, bathing the lake in light, making the waterfalls sparkle.

  “It’s more beautiful than Pendragon described it,” Boon said. “Which one is the entrance to Black Water?”

  “Second waterfall from the right,” Gunny answered.

  “Should we wait for Courtney and Spader?” Mark asked.

  Gunny frowned. “We can’t risk it,” he answered. “We don’t know how much time is left. I’m sorry, Mark.”

  Mark was pained, but chose not to argue. The thought of leaving Courtney behind was horrible. A wave of guilt washed over him for having gotten her involved in the first place, but he pushed it out of his head. He knew he couldn’t look back, at least not yet. They had to get the antidote to Black Water.

  “Stay close together,” Gunny said. “We’re almost there.”

  He coaxed his tired zenzen off the rocky ledge and down the steep slope. Boon and Mark followed close behind. The two animals were near exhaustion, so they let gravity do most of the work. They descended along the grassy slope and into the trees that became more and more dense as they drew closer to the lake.

  “Once we get into Black Water,” Gunny said, “we should find Aron. We’ve got to explain to him the danger that’s headed this way and get him to—” Gunny never finished the sentence.

  The tang didn’t let him.

  With no warning the beast leaped from the thick underbrush and knocked Gunny off his zenzen.

  “Gunny!” Mark shouted as the tall Traveler hit the ground.

  Boon instantly leaped off his zenzen to help Gunny. On his way down he slapped the animal on the backside and shouted “Yeahhh!” The animal bolted forward, with Mark still on board.

  “Get out of here!” Boon shouted.

  Mark lunged forward to grab the saddle so he wouldn’t fall off and break his head. He took one quick glance back to see Boon leap at the tang. But turning around threw him off balance and he nearly fell again. He turned back forward as the zenzen charged through the thick forest, out of control. He dug his fingers under the front of the saddle in a death grip. Branches whipped by, tearing at his arms and legs. The zenzen may have been exhausted, but surprise and fear gave it a second wind. Mark knew he had to get control before he was knocked off, or thrown off, or crashed into a tree. He gripped the saddle even tighter with his right hand and tentatively let go with his left. He reached forward to grab the reins, but they bounced freely on the zenzen’s neck, out of reach. If he was going to get them, he was going to have to move forward and let go of the saddle.

  The zenzen flew past a tree branch so closely, it hit Mark’s shoulder, nearly knocking him off. It was the last bit of convincing he needed. He had to act. He gripped the saddle with his hands and let go with his sore legs, pulling himself forward and into the seat. He locked his legs around the animal and let his hands leave the saddle, lunging for the reins. His chest hit the zenzen’s neck, snapping his head back and making him nearly bite through his lip, but he grabbed hold of the reins with both hands.

  “Whoa!” he screamed, and pulled. The zenzen didn’t stop. Mark pulled harder, but the zenzen kept galloping through the forest. Finally Mark wrapped the reins around each of his hands, got a tight grip, and
yanked both straps as hard as he possibly could. “I . . . said . . . WHOA!”

  The zenzen bucked, whinnied, and finally jogged to a stop. Mark sat in the saddle, exhausted but still in one piece. He felt the tank to find it hadn’t moved. He was still in business. He glanced around to find he was in the middle of an unfamiliar forest. He had no idea how long his wild jaunt had gone on, but he knew he was nowhere near the spot where Gunny was attacked. Looking up, he saw that he wasn’t far from his destination—the base of the waterfall to Black Water. Mark knew his mission. He had to get the tank to Aron.

  But he also knew that Gunny may be hurt. Along with Boon. And if he was being totally honest with himself, he’d admit that he was terrified to go ahead without them. So rather than press on toward the waterfall, Mark grabbed the reins the way he had been watching Boon do for hours. The zenzen responded. It was too tired not to. The animal turned around. Mark gave it a kick, and they trotted back toward the spot where they had been attacked.

  * * *

  Courtney scrambled up the rock face as quickly and expertly as if she were climbing a jungle gym at home. There were plenty of places for her to find handholds and spots to wedge her toes. Her soft, rubberlike Cloral swim shoes were almost as good as climbing boots. They weren’t much protection, but they allowed her to feel the rock and find safe purchase.

  Spader climbed beneath her, doing his best to keep up without taking dangerous chances. He didn’t have the experience that Courtney did, but what he lacked in technique, he made up for in strength.

  “There’s only one rule,” Courtney shouted down to him. “Keep moving and don’t look down.”

  “That’s two rules,” Spader said.

  Both tried not to think how a single misstep would be disaster.

  “How did the tangs get up here? I thought they couldn’t climb?” Courtney asked.

  “Maybe there’s an easier way up,” Spader offered.

  “And we’re not on it because?”