Withered World

by Sara Kincaid

  The woman huffed before replying. “It’s true, sir. I watched it happen. Can’t explain it myself. Though that wound is not caused by any of the elements as far as we can tell.”

  “Fine. Take her to be tested. A dose of Pop will set things right and tell us what we need to know. But if you’ve wasted my time, Maric, you’ll have much to answer for. I want to be there when they test her. Have them contact me before they administer the test.” The captain turned smartly and strode away.

  With the captain gone, Maric prodded me with his weapon. “Up with you. We’re off to the holding terminal in the experiment wing.”

  The two soldiers stepped back and I slid out of the back of the transport, landing a bit wobbly on my feet. Pain arced its way up my leg but my captors had no sympathy. Maric urged me forward with the butt of his rifle. I tried reaching for the unpredictable energy of the sun to complete healing my wound, but was too weak to handle it. When I felt the energy sink into my system, it sizzled, scalding me until I let it dissipate back into the air. I flinched and clutched my stomach. The soldiers pushed me farther.

  Each step across the transport landing field caused pain to ricochet through my body. The dark pavement was hot against my bare feet and heat radiated off the transports parked there. Around the landing field rose the tall skeletons of ancient trees, reaching up to the sky like pitchforks. Their grim bones saluted me as I stepped into the shadow of the twisted metal fortress where my fellow Curare waited.

  Just inside the main door of the facility, we were oppressed by harsh lights and frigid air. My steps echoed along the blank corridor as we approached a pair of guards on duty. Their expressions were grim as their eyes slid over my body. They nodded to my captors.

  We entered the facility and my feet came to a halt as I took in the inner lining of my prison. Maric urged me forward again. “Quit dawdling,” he spat. The nightmare that my parents had dreamed and had frightened me with as a child had become a reality. I slouched forward, feigning fear and slowing my pace to give myself more time to try and memorize the path we cut through Kade’s stronghold. The facility was a network of tunnels crawling with cameras and mechanically operated doorways that dazzled my homely farm upbringing. Everything was sleek and shiny and it glimmered beneath the white lights with sharp edges. We passed dozens of soldiers, each armed with air guns and clothed is swaths of coarse fabric laden with patches and badges. They eyed our party curiously.

  In spite of myself and my earlier vow of bravery, I felt my legs quake with fear. The air was thick with turmoil. There were no windows. There was no hope here. Briefly, I thought of Annel, my mother’s lost sister, and wondered wistfully if there was any chance that she was still alive. I held my tongue.

  Our progress was slow as we turned down another hallway. I glanced through an open doorway and noted a gated room where dozens of bunks were lined up in neat rows along each wall. A couple of people sat near the door, gazing forlornly out into space. When they saw our group walk by, they stood quickly and continued to watch our progress, curiosity and fear prevalent in their gazes. I tentatively reached out into the void and was overwhelmed with the songs of dozens of Curare, each carrying his or her own tune, a cacophony of power. The sensation overwhelmed me and I marveled that the soldiers seemed to be completely unaware of it.

  Another hallway dumped us into the experiment wing of the facility. The smell of alcohol stung my nostrils as we entered the main room. Shelves of beakers and other tools lined the walls and computers hummed a low tune. A woman wearing goggles on her head and a hemp tunic with long sleeves and full-length legs sat on a high chair in front of a computer. The monitor was clear and I could see data dancing across the screen as she scrolled.

  My captors marched me up to the woman and waited for her to look up. “Can I help you?” she asked, obviously annoyed at the interruption. Her hair was dark and the harsh lights from above made it glisten.

  “We need to schedule a Pop test.”

  “A Pop test? We don’t do those here. Those are done out in the field. Who sent you here? Why didn’t you do one before you got here?”

  “We’re not a collection team and don’t have the authority or training. Captain Bertin sent us to you.”

  The young woman sighed and rolled her eyes. “Bertin knows how things work around here. He simply chooses to ignore it.” The woman faced me and took in my appearance. “Looks like she put up quite a fight. What makes you say she’s Curare?”

  “This,” Maric said emphatically, holding up his injured hand

  “And they say Curare are pacifists,” she replied, bemused. “She’s awfully old to not have been identified. How would she have avoided the tests in the past?

  Maric shrugged. “Ask her. How are we to know?”

  “Okay then.” The woman swiped her hand across the screen and a new form popped up on the monitor. “Igni, Venti, Terrae or Aquae?”

  “Not sure.”

  The woman peeked up over the top of her screen to look at me again, her eyes lighting with curiosity. Her hair fell from the loose bun on her head. She picked at the keys, her fingers flying across the keyboard. “Okay, I have her in the system. It will have to be later this afternoon. Take her to holding cell 505.”

  The ten holding cells for the experimental wing were just off to the side of the main chamber. Most of the room was empty save for cell 508, where a Curare lay on a pad, curled on her side and facing the wall.

  My captors ushered me into the cell and closed the door with a loud clang. For the second time in my life I was caged like an animal. If I’d had the energy and my leg wasn’t throbbing, I likely would have paced like a lion, my feet slapping against the cold metal. Instead, I sunk to my knees in the corner. With my back pressed against the steel wall and my feet against a barred wall, I felt a little more in control of my environment. From my place on the ground, I gazed curiously at the other captive, who, despite the clamor, still hadn’t moved. Hesitantly, I reached out into the void, searching for her. Beneath the frenzying noise of the other Curare, I found her song. It flowed softly like a brook through the valley, the notes slow and gentle. Despite her lethargy, she seemed relatively healthy, though her energy was filled with pain.

  Perhaps she sensed me too for, after a moment, her head turned and our eyes met across the hall of the prison. Her eyes were blue, as deep and bright as the oceans I had seen on old vid reels; and in her gaze, I could taste the many waters of the earth, the ruddy flavor of the silt, the biting tang of the minerals. The lights guttered audibly overhead and the girl paled, her thin blonde hair falling over her face. I thought the moment lost, but she focused on me again. This time when she turned to me, I could sense the thread of her energy much more strongly. I did not draw from her, but I understood much about her.

  The muffled stomping of boots woke me some time later. I blinked up at Maric and Rhina, who stood by the door, arms crossed, their weapons prominently displayed. “So, how’s it going to be, Curare? Hard or easy?” Maric eyed me coldly, his shoulders tense.

  I considered my options, tested the strength of my leg as I unraveled my limbs from the curled position I occupied on the floor. Somehow, my leg felt a bit better, though it was far from healed. Angry red marks streaked out from the wound’s center, marring their way down my pale leg. I still wore the same blood-soaked knee-length pants, though I was unsure how long ago I had first been captured. My energy was low and I could sense the life forces of the soldiers pulsing around me. The temptation to steal from them was strong, but I could not bring myself to take what was not mine, particularly from Rhina, who had helped me into the transport after my capture. Perhaps she was an ally? How could I tell?

  I stood slowly, favoring my right leg, feigning more pain in my left than I actually felt. My vision swam as I got to my feet. I would need energy soon or I would begin to lose control of my abilities. The Aquae Curare didn’t move, but I f
elt her haunted eyes upon me and knew that she peaked out beneath her shaggy blonde hair.

  The prospect of the Pop test frightened me. Though I had seen it administered as Leo and I escaped South Farm, I feared how my own body and abilities would react to the serum, what the CPA would do when they discovered what I truly was capable of doing. The vacant stares of the addicts in the Undergrounds’ stronghold, the acrid smoke, the tracks on their arms and legs that marked their addiction to the mysterious drug came to mind. Finally, I thought of Bram, of his peaceful nature, and I clung to his memory for strength.

  Hesitantly, I raised my hands into the air showing my submission. “That’s right,” Rhina cooed. “Good decision. Take a few steps back from the door, please.” Begrudgingly, I did as I was told. All at once, the door swung open and the soldiers rushed in, grabbing my hands and then disabling them behind my back.

  “She seems as docile as the rest, Maric,” another soldier sniggered. “Not sure why we needed half a platoon to corral one innocent Curare.” I bit my lip to hide my smile, knowing that disabling my hands had no effect. I could wield my abilities as long as there was energy to steal and my bare skin touched them. I held back, anticipating that Kade would be in attendance and that I could then make my move against him. I would end this today.

  My captors guided me out of the holding area and back out into the large, open room of the experiment wing. The room had changed slightly since I had last seen it. Now, a hospital bed complete with restraints lay in the middle of the room. On a metal table beside the bed lay a single spring-loaded syringe. A small group of people had assembled around the bed, including a herd of scientists and Captain Bertin, who stood at least a head taller than all of them. They talked in hushed voices. There was no sign of Kade. I bent my head and closed my eyes. Tears slid out between my eyelids. My stomach twisted in painful knots and I pulled against my restraints, the instinct to flee beginning to overtake me. My heart took off, beating a frenzied pulse of fear. “I don’t think so,” came Maric’s sharp reply. His air gun poked me menacingly in the back.

  Where was Kade? Why wasn’t he here? A sob escaped my lips as I realized I’d have to endure the test and whatever else lay ahead until I got the chance to destroy him. Can I do this? I have to. There was no choice. I reached down, grasping desperately toward the earth, for comfort, for a steady hand. But all I found was silence. I stumbled, tumbling forward on unsteady feet until one of the guards pulled me up once more.

  When I tried to drag my feet, the guards urged me forward with small, impatient shoves. My breath came in painful gasps and my body quivered with restless fear. My hair was matted to my head, sweat curling the ends. Upon reaching the table, my restraints were removed, though a guard held each of my arms. “Lie down, please,” came the soft request from the scientist. I hesitated once more, my eyes roving around the room for a route of escape. Seeing none, I did as instructed, though my body quaked. Don’t be afraid.

  Each of my legs was buckled down with a heavy hemp strap and my arms were splayed out and bound tightly to the table. Panic rose in my throat, tasting of bile. What would my parents think if they knew? What was going to happen?

  When the soldiers stepped away, the scientist assumed her position beside the bed. “Wait,” Captain Bertin called, walking to the other side of the table. “I want to see her arm.” He moved to my left side and rolled up my sleeve. “She is unmarked,” he declared loud enough for everyone to hear.

  The scientist resumed her place on my left side and picked up the syringe. She held it lightly between her thin fingers and took my elbow gently in her other hand. Her touch was cool like the metal at my back. I tried to swallow my fears, but they remained lodged in my throat. I was dizzy with hunger and around me, the tendrils of energy wavered like snakes. I tried to focus, tried to will my body to harden like the smooth stones of the earth. But I was too worn to gather my energy and too afraid to channel my focus.

  The needle pricked my skin, dimpling the crook of my arm, and my muscles tensed in response. I winced at the brief, sharp pain. Then, the scientist slowly began to push the plunger, forcing the silvery liquid into my vein. As the first drops entered, my arm felt as if it were on fire. I screamed, but the liquid kept moving. It rocketed up my arm and moved through my body, pulsing and frenzying out into my limbs, up to my brain. The burning sensation was quickly followed by a chill so sharp, it numbed me. My eyes briefly met the amber orbs of the dark-haired scientist, her pupils dilated with fear. Then, all I knew was darkness.

  My mind awoke before my body and for a few moments, I was stifled in shadows and unable to move. When my body finally caught up, my eyes snapped open and my entire frame shuddered as if I had been dropped back into myself. I blinked in the harsh light and found myself looking into a pair of familiar blue eyes brimming with sadness. As feeling returned to my limbs, sharp needles of pain ravaged their way through my body and I convulsed uncontrollably. Terror gripped me as my limbs seemed to have a mind of their own. I felt a soft hand take my own. “Don’t worry, Vea. You’re going to be alright. I promise.”

  Through the waves of pain, I tried to place the voice without success. How did he know my name? Finally, whatever ailment gripped me faded and I breathed a ragged sigh. My body became like water and my muscles gave way. I loosened my grip on the comforting hand and looked up at my guardian. He smiled down at me, laugh lines curving around his lips, hair falling in a stream of blonde highlights. I blinked up at him, recalling the stocky frame of a young man I had once known, a boy on the cusp of manhood and ripe with life, at least until he had been discovered to be Curare. Where muscles had once rippled, soft flesh now lived. “Tr-ayvor?” My voice was filled with apprehension.

  “Yes, that’s right.” He smiled again. “You remember me.”

  “Of-of course,” I stuttered, recalling with shame how I had shunned him with the rest of our schoolmates after he failed the Pop test five years ago. I had convinced myself that this betrayal was done for my own protection, but that never lightened the guilt.

  My expression must have betrayed my thoughts. “It’s okay, Vea,” he assured me. “You did right.” The man before me resembled the boy I had known, but his time as a prisoner of the CPA had taken its toll. We were the same age, though he looked a decade older and the bright light he had carried within him had waned.

  “I’m sorry,” I breathed.

  He waved away my apology. “Shall we see if you can sit up?”

  I closed my eyes and felt the tendrils of his energy licking at my skin. My body hummed with fatigue and I felt nearly hypnotized by the gentle pulse of his life. “I need energy.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t have any food. You’ll have to wait until meal time.”

  I shook my head. “No. I…” I searched for the words. “I don’t eat food,” I whispered. “I need energy,” I repeated. I would not have admitted my food source so readily in this dangerous environment if I hadn’t been desperate for nourishment. Without a clock or a window, I had no idea how much time had passed since my arrest in the transport station.

  Trayvor ran his free hand through his hair. I could hear the sound of his fingers dragging along his scalp. If my words frightened him, he hid it well. “What do you need?” His voice wavered, unsure of the right question to ask.

  I didn’t answer, distracted suddenly by an entire symphony of Curare blood singing all around me. Their energy shone brightly in the void and I let that light wash over me. I had never been around a whole group of Curare before. I did not draw from them, but somehow I felt better. When I opened my eyes, I noticed the many Curare loitering about the room, an apparent bunk area with towers of beds stack upon one another and stuff in every square inch of space in the windowless room. I found Trayvor once more. I waited, wondering if he or anyone else had witnessed the change in the room that I had. It appeared no one had.

  “It’s okay. I can wait.”
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br />   “Your color seems a bit better.” He nodded his approval, his hair dipping over his brows with the motion.

  I smiled wanly. “Thanks.” Trayvor took my hand and steadily helped me to my feet. My legs buckled slightly under the weight, but Trayvor caught me. Slowly, we inched our way up to my full height. Once standing, I looked down at my injured leg. It felt a bit more stable than before, though putting my own body weight on it was still painful. My pant leg was dark with dried blood.

  The dozens of Curare around us, people of all shapes and sizes and from the different farm communities, milled about on bunks, crowded into corners, their backs scrunched against the unforgiving metal walls. Most kept the sleeves of their hemp shirts pulled low over their arms, but many tattoos peaked out beneath the fabric. The greens, grays and blues of the Terrae, Venti and Aquae Curare, with the curved leather straps bundling together the bird feathers like flowers, the joy of the earth, though the marks they bore on their arms were more like a curse. Curiously, there were no Igni Curare about. “Why are we locked in here?”

  “In more recent days, they’ve taken to guarding the door. In the past, we were less like prisoners.”

  “Our imprisonment was more of an understanding,” a new voice answered. I turned to look behind me and beheld a woman with black eyes and square features. Her mouth was small and puckered as if she had tasted something sour. She had streaks of gray in her dark hair. “Whatever that means.” She stuck out a dirty hand. “I’m Aren.”

  “Vea,” I replied, shaking her hand. Her grip was light, but with her touch, I felt the extent of her abilities. In surprise, I looked up at her and wondered if she herself knew how strong she could be. “Why don’t you fight back?”

  Aren chewed her lip. “Fight? With what?”

  “With your abilities.”

  “I don’t know how to use my abilities except to clean the air.” She pulled back her sleeve revealing the artful design of gray feathers on her arm.