The loop stopped and Tar was at her desk. Her dark eyes sliced into me and her voice wavered. “Lev? Lev? Are you there?” For the first time in my life, I saw her look anxious. Did she regret sending me out here?
“Yes,” I choked. “I’m here!” I scrambled up, leaning towards her hologram. But she couldn’t hear me.
“If you are, come back.”
I choked on a sob as the image cut away.
Kaia
It was my third day in the Prim camp and a degree of normalcy had descended on Mara’s hut. She returned to her usual routine and spent a lot of the day checking on people. Rufus, for example, needed his dressing changed. She brought other people medicines she made at the work table in her kitchen. When a patient came to her, I’d excuse myself and wait outside to give them privacy.
“You could take inventory,” she told me as she ground dried herbs with the mortar and pestle. She’d just returned from checking on an elder with a bad cough. “Make a list of anything that’s running low.”
I looked at her blankly. Without my pulse point, I had nothing to record information. She gave a little laugh and pointed to a piece of charcoal sitting on a shelf. “Use that and a piece of bark,” she told me. “Do you know how to print?” Mara asked.
I did, but most Citizens of my generation didn’t. We could read, of course, but there was no reason to learn to print since we had pulse points. Mae had taught me by dipping our fingers in water and practising our letters on the floor of our dwelling.
I picked up the charcoal and a rag to protect my fingers. It felt good to have a job to do and the two of us worked quietly until we heard Sepp’s voice outside. He burst into the hut, trailed by two girls. “I’m going to the waterhole. Kaia, do you want to come?” The two girls stood behind him, peeking through the door to get a look at me.
“I think I’ll stay here,” I told him, casting a look at Mara. I still wasn’t comfortable leaving the security of the hut. Nadia and her group hadn’t returned, but I’d be vulnerable out in the open. “But thanks,” I added as an afterthought.
“I saw storm clouds coming,” Mara said, going to him. “Don’t stay long.” She whispered something in his ear and kissed him on the cheek. I felt a pang of jealousy at how easy it was for them to be together. Sepp and the girls had only been gone for a minute when there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” Mara called. The door opened and a very pregnant female walked in.
“Aliana!” Mara said. “How are you?”
“Huge!” she said with a laugh. “And exhausted, but otherwise fine.” Aliana eyed me with curiosity. I gave her a tentative smile and she returned it. “My daughter, Kaia,” Mara said. It sounded funny to hear my name and the word ‘daughter’ in the same breath.
“Yes, I heard about you,” she said shyly.
I’d seen a lot of pregnant women at the clinic. Some got sickly and couldn’t eat, but others seemed to enjoy pregnancy. Aliana looked to be in good shape. “Is this your first?” I asked.
She shook her head. With sunken cheeks, but bright, dark brown eyes, she probably looked older than she was. “My fourth.”
“Fourth!” I sputtered.
“I know,” she moaned. “The littlest isn’t even walking yet.” But she said it with a laugh.
“And they’re all healthy?” I asked.
Mara ladled water into a wooden cup and passed it Aliana. She took a sip and nodded. “Two boys and a girl. I’m hoping this one is another girl,” she said with a sigh. “The boys are a handful.”
Mara put her basket on the table beside Aliana and pulled out medical supplies she’d taken from the City when she’d left: a stethoscope, blood pressure gauge and a thermometer. I watched as she put her hands on either side of Aliana’s belly and concentrated. Then, Aliana lifted her shirt and flinched as Mara put the cool, metal stethoscope on her bare skin. She listened for a moment and smiled. “Strong heartbeat. It’s kicking? Still moving a lot?”
Aliana smiled. “All the time.”
“Good,” Mara said with a nod. “It’s your fourth, so it might come quickly. Send one of the children to fetch me as soon as the pains are regular, or your water breaks.”
There was no proper clinic for the birth to occur in. Would Aliana really deliver the baby in her own hut? No matter how clean she made it, it would never be sterile.
“I’ll see you next week, then,” Mara said and helped Aliana to stand.
“Hopefully sooner,” she said as she opened the door to leave.
Mara watched her go, a wistful look on her face. “I’ve known Aliana since she was twelve years old. She’s a wonderful mother. You should see her with those boys,” Mara shook her head. “Chasing them around the camp, even eight months pregnant.”
“How did you learn all this?” I asked as Mara went back to crushing the leaves in her stone bowl.
“There was a healer here when I arrived. She saw the antibiotics I’d brought with me and took it as a sign. She taught me all she could before she died. The rest I just learned by trial and error.”
“But they trust you,” I said. The secret of her role in the City with the captive Prims sat between us. Despite her deceits, she’d found a way to be part of their community. I thought of Nadia and her obvious contempt for me. Would she ever accept me?
“It took time,” she said. “But they are good people.” A shadow crossed her face and she met my eyes. A silent reminder of what could happen if anyone found out the truth. Mara stood up and carefully wrapped each tool in cloth before she put it back in her basket.
“What if you taught me about healing?”
Raina stared at me in surprise. “What do you want to learn?”
I hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I don’t know. About how to make medicines, birthing offspring?” I shrugged. “Everything, I guess.” I caught my reflection in a piece of polished metal hanging on the wall of the hut. After three days in the camp, the burn on my face had become less painful and not as red. Dirt had embedded itself into my fingernails and smudges from charcoal blackened my hands and arms. I didn’t look like a Citizen anymore—or at least not like the person I’d been when I left.
“I would like that,” Mara said warmly. “What was your job in the City?”
“Fetal assessment technician. I—” but I broke off. She knew what I did, I didn’t have to explain it.
“That must have been difficult, telling a woman when a fetus wasn’t viable.”
“Most understood, but not always.” I thought back to the female I’d lied to.
“I was so relieved when your fetal assessments came back normal. But then with Sepp, the abnormalities showed up right away.”
“Why didn’t you terminate it and try again?”
A shadow crossed her face. “By then, the program I’d started had changed into something else. I found out what the Council really wanted to do with the offspring.”
The ominous tone of her words sent a shiver down my spine. She wasn’t talking about strangers; she was talking about me. “What were they going to do?” I asked.
“Lock you away in the underland and harvest what they wanted. Genetic material, stem cells, antibodies, whatever they thought would make the Citizens stronger.”
My hand flew to my mouth as I stared at her horrified. “If I hadn’t left—if Sy hadn’t made me leave,” I let my voice drift off, digesting all that she’d told me.
“I never told Sy all of it. I was too ashamed.” Her voice dropped, as if the telling had worn her out.
“The City is full of secrets. If Citizens found out the truth—” I shook my head with disgust.
“They’d do nothing. The Council keeps them fearful. People are easier to control when they’re scared.”
“What if there are more people like me? What if the Intertwining Program continued after you left?”
A pained look crossed Raina’s face. “It’s possible. Jacob and Noah were still there when I left.”
“If there were more offspring, where would they be?” I asked, but I already knew the answer.
“In the underland, I guess. Living like prisoners.”
Jacob. The underland. In the storm of memories swirling in my head from the day I left the City to my reunion with Mara, something emerged. A name that would have gone forgotten.
“When Sy and I were in the underland, we heard an argument about a child between an overseer and a man. The overseer called him Jacob.”
“Jacob,” Mara whispered and shut her eyes. “All these years living as a prisoner.”
“But the overseer didn’t speak to him like he was a prisoner. It sounded like he was one of them.”
Mara frowned. “Jacob hated them, what had been done to him and Noah. For a long time he hated me. Until—” Mara broke off.
“Until what?”
But she shook her head. “I’ve already told you more than I intended.”
Without realizing it, she had made it impossible for me to go back to the City. If I did, I knew the future that awaited me. But it also answered another question that had plagued me. “That’s why the overseers came after me,” I said aloud. After being in the Prim camp so long, I’d given up on the overseers ever finding me.
“What overseers?” Mara asked, frowning.
“I saw them just before Gideon and Akrum took me. They were in the valley.”
Her eyes opened wide and she gasped. “Oh, Kaia,” she stood up and began pacing the hut. “Where were they? How far away? Did they see you?”
“They’d have found me by now if they could track me,” I told her. “My pulse point is broken, remember?”
“Why didn’t you tell someone? Akrum or Gideon?” She rubbed a hand over her face and shut her eyes.
“Everything happened so quickly. I mean, Akrum didn’t exactly ask me to join him! I was dragged into a cave. And then I found out I’d probably die and you were dead. And then you weren’t,” I rambled on, the events of the last few days blurring together in my head.
Mara didn’t look like she was listening. “We have to tell Ezekiel. The hunters have to be warned. There could be other overseers out there.”
I balled my hands into fists. “No! Don’t tell Ezekiel! If other Prims find out, they’ll turn on me. Ezekiel will be forced to send me back,” I cried. “Or he’ll order me punished like Rufus!” I stood between Mara and the door, barring her way.
“You’ve put us all in danger!”
I stared at her. “You keep telling me you left to protect me, well, now’s your chance!”
Mara threw her hands in the air. “I’m risking all of our lives by not saying anything!” she wailed. Mara grabbed my hand, the one with the pulse point. “This is what separates you.” She shook it in my face. “This stupid microchip! The sooner it’s gone, the better.” She dragged me towards the table and reached for a small knife hanging on a hook.
“No!” I screamed, trying to wrench it away from her. Maybe I was ready to be free of the pulse point, but not like this, in a moment of anger.
“You have to, Kaia! It’s the only way we can be sure.”
“Sure of what?” Akrum stood in the door. His eyes strayed from me and down to my hand in Mara’s grip. The seconds ticked by as I waited for her to say something.
“Sure that the infection hasn’t spread,” Mara said, flustered. She let go of my hand and pushed aside a lock of hair that had escaped from her braid.
Akrum looked between us and I knew he didn’t believe her. “You need to come to the elder’s meeting place. Both of you.”
“Now?” Mara asked.
Akrum didn’t take his eyes off me as he nodded. “It’s important.”
A knot lodged itself in my stomach and one thought drummed through my head: they knew about the overseers.
Mara and I walked quickly, following Akrum down the path. I was still reeling from Mara’s reaction, but then I realized she had as much to lose as I did. If the overseers recognized her, they’d tell the Prims who she really was. “What’s this about?” Mara asked.
“You’ll see,” was all Akrum said.
The elders sat in the same formation as they had the last time I’d been in the shelter. Gideon was there too, and Akrum sat beside him. We had barely sat down when Ezekiel spoke. “There are overseers on the Mountain.”
Colour drained from my face. Mara grasped my hand.
“They were on Two Tree Boulder; another hunter and I found them. They’re following her.” Akrum looked at me. “I heard one of them speak her name.”
Ezekiel interrupted and turned his gaze on me. “I need to know if you were being truthful. Is the thing in your finger broken? Because if it isn’t, it will lead them to us.”
“I swear, it is broken. It hadn’t been working in the City for days before I left. It was how I got away undetected.”
“But you were detected. They followed you.”
“Not because of this,” I held up my finger. “They knew running to the Mountain was my only option. There’s nowhere else to go.”
“We should go into the caves,” Josephina said. “And hide.” The Prims turned to each other, their faces creased with distress, and began muttering.
Akrum shook his head and held up his hand to quiet them. “I won’t hide from them. Anyway, there’s only one left now. The other was killed.”
“How?” Mara asked. Her face was etched with worry.
“They made camp on the wrong side of the stream. Beasts were tracking them and one fell off the boulder.” There was a startled gasp among the elders. “He was attacked.”
“The other one’s gone crazy,” Akrum continued. “He drank from the bog. The stinkwater’s rotting him from the inside. He’s wandering in circles, talking to himself. But he’s on our side of the stream now.”
“Should we set a trap for him?” Gideon asked. “Or lead him away from camp?
“If he goes back over the stream, the beasts will finish him,” Akrum said.
“That seems cruel,” Josephina said.
“They never helped us,” Akrum gave everyone a pointed look. “We have no reason to show him mercy.”
“It’s my fault,” I blurted. Mara’s fears had been right. “They’re on the Mountain because of me.”
There was a long pause as no one said anything. Finally, Ezekiel spoke. “It’s true. They are here because of you.”
I sat up straight, waiting for him to banish me, or tell me I’d receive lashes like Rufus had.
“But you’re one of us. Mara has explained that like Sepp, Prim blood is in your veins. You came here looking for protection and for your family. You have both. We will fight to protect you, Kaia.”
At first, I didn’t think I’d heard him right. I was safe, or as safe as any of them were. No one argued with Ezekiel’s decision.
“Akrum, follow the overseer. We won’t harm him unless he threatens this camp. But we won’t help him either.” The other elders nodded in agreement. “If he goes across the stream and the beasts attack, so be it. And if he dies from his sickness…” Ezekiel’s voice drifted off, his meaning clear.
“Far as I can tell, he isn’t a threat. Doesn’t even look like a City person. He’s got a funny mark on his face. Like a squashed berry,” Akrum snorted.
I froze, not sure if I’d heard him right. “A squashed berry?” I asked.
Akrum mimicked placing a berry on his face and smashing it. My eyes grew wide with shock. There was only one person in the City with a birthmark like that.
Lev. Of course. Who else would they send? Who else had a chance of bringing me back? The only person left in the City who cared about me, and now he was going to die for it.
Lev
I’d survived another night, but every time I tried to eat or drink, I vomited. Most times I made it out of the hole at the base of the tree, but sometimes I didn’t. The sour odour of sick filled the air around me. I held up my pulse point hoping for another message. Nothing. Not even a flicker. Had the last message been real, or a feverish dream? It must have been a dream. When had Tar ever shown concern for me? If another team of overseers found me, I’d have to explain what had happened to Raf. “He attacked me,” I whispered out loud, the story gaining strength in my head. “Went crazy from the surges.”
They’d believe me. I was Tar’s offspring. She’d raised a hero.
And a villain.
My pulse point flickered to life. Its beat calmed me. I was connected again. Part of something. The City was waiting for me. All I had to do was stay alive until the overseers found me.
Was it the overseers I was waiting for, or someone else? A blurry image of a female stayed on the edge of my consciousness. I knew her, but her name escaped me. And then, it came to me, like a cool breeze, an exhalation. Kaia.
Kaia
“You know him?” Gideon asked, but my expression was answer enough. Mara, Ezekiel, Akrum, and the other elders stared at me.
“It’s Lev,” I said. I couldn’t meet their gazes.
“Who is he?” Ezekiel asked.
“He was my friend. It’s why they sent him. He wouldn’t hurt me. He’s not like the others.”
“Lev?” Mara said. “Tar’s son?”
I nodded.
Mara’s eyes widened and she shook her head. “Tar,” she muttered. Contempt made her face turn cold. “He can’t be trusted. No offspring of hers could be.”
The intensity of her voice surprised me. “You don’t know him.”
“I know Tar.”
I wanted to ask more, to find out what she meant, but all eyes were on us. “He’s not like her.”
“Don’t think it’s going to matter who he’s like,” Akrum piped up. “He’s half dead.”
Pulse Point Page 16