Boy X

by Dan Smith

  ‘We must pull harder,’ Isabel insisted. ‘This happened before.’

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘Yes. Pull harder and it will come free.’

  Ash tightened his grip on the rope. ‘All right. On three?’

  Isabel nodded. ‘One. Two. Three.’

  They leant back and pulled as hard as they could.

  ‘We moved,’ Ash said. ‘I’m sure we moved.’

  ‘Again. One more time.’

  They secured their grip once more and Isabel counted off again.

  ‘One. Two. Three.’

  The rope remained stubborn for a second, then it released with a suddenness that made Ash and Isabel drop back with a jolt. The rope slid through their hands and the cradle moved forward.

  ‘Yes!’ Isabel looked at Ash with triumph. ‘We—’

  The cradle dropped a few centimetres.

  Isabel’s eyes widened and she stared at Ash for a second before they lifted their gaze to the rope from which the cradle was suspended. It had begun to sag under their weight.

  ‘No . . .’ Isabel said.

  Then it snapped.

  18 hrs and 14 mins until Shut-Down

  The cradle dropped away, tipping to one side and spilling them out. Ten metres below the snapped line, it struck the water and whisked away in the current. A fraction of a second later, Ash hit the surface and went under in a rush of bubbles. He started tumbling as soon as the river had him. He saw sky, water, sky again. He caught glimpses of the bank, followed by nothing but bubbles. A flash of blue sky, a snatch of someone running out onto the pebbles.

  Is that Thorn?

  Water again.

  The figure on the shore. A slender man, running along the bank.

  Then nothing but water, filling his mouth. Rushing in his ears. Adding weight to his clothes. The might of it was all around him, rolling him over and over, scraping him along the stony bed. He was thrown up into the main current, then forced back down again, jarring against boulders like he was a toy.

  Need to breathe.

  He could do this.

  With a surge of energy, Ash kicked out again and again until his feet came into contact with the riverbed. As soon as he felt it beneath him, he pushed away, shooting upwards, breaking the surface and taking a great gulp of air.

  A few metres ahead, a black crag rose from the centre of the course, armed with brutal corners and sharp edges. It didn’t matter that Ash was stronger and quicker than before – the rock would smash him to pieces just the same. At first the water clung to him, its frothing fingers refusing to let him go as it steered him towards the rock, but he fought hard to break free. As one part of the river released him, allowing another to take him, he skirted past the deadly rock, missing it by an arm’s length, bringing him closer to the cradle that was buffeting just out of reach in the thick of the current.

  The depths sucked at his legs, trying to drag him deeper. The surface pummelled him, threatening to push him down or break him against the rocks, but he had to get to that cradle. It was his only hope.

  As soon as the wooden platform was within reach, Ash boosted towards it, fingernails raking along the boards. Splinters needled his skin as the river wrestled to tear it from his grip. The river rushed in his face, sloshing into his mouth, trying to steal his breath, but he finally heaved himself aboard.

  Ash clung to the ropes that were now wrapped around it, and pulled himself up, lifting his head to search the river.

  ‘Isabel!’ He could hardly hear his own voice over the sound of the water. ‘Isabel!’

  He watched the river, frantically looking for a sign. A flash of colour, a shape in the water.

  There. Right in front of him. Something was waggling through one of the slats in the platform. Ash stared, trying to figure out what it was. Then, with a sickening sense of dread, it dawned on him. They were fingers.

  ‘Isabel!’

  She was caught in the ropes tangled around the cradle. She was trapped beneath him, underwater. Unable to breathe.

  Letting go with one arm, Ash scrambled closer to the edge and reached under the cradle to feel Isabel lodged there. She reacted to his touch as he grasped whatever he could – shirt or trousers or hair, it didn’t matter – and pulled hard.

  She didn’t budge.

  ‘Come on!’ he screamed as he tugged again. ‘Come on!’

  Isabel still didn’t budge and Ash knew he couldn’t waste time trying again; he had to get her some air. Thinking quickly, he moved back on the cradle and dropped into the water. He held tight and pushed down with all his strength, trying to tip the platform. Nothing happened, though; he was too small and light. He needed more weight, more strength, so he tucked his legs underneath the platform and pushed up with his feet while pulling down with his hands.

  Finally, the heavy pallet began to tilt, the far end lifting up in the water until it was upright. Ash strained with effort, tipping the platform further and further until it flipped and toppled towards him. He had just enough time to grab hold of the ropes before it slammed down on top of him, forcing him deep into the water. When the rope tightened, he stopped with a jolt and was dragged along, clinging to the underside of the cradle.

  Ash forged through the current, dragging himself handover-hand up the rope until he exploded from the surface of the water and grabbed for the slats on the upper side of the platform. Finding a secure purchase, he pulled himself aboard.

  Isabel was right there, lashed to the cradle by the tangle of ropes, face down, with her head turned away from him. His first thought was that he was too late. Isabel was dead. She had drowned because he had been too slow to save her.

  He clambered towards her and put his hand on her back, terrified that she was dead. He was filled with the sense that he hadn’t done enough, that it was his fault, just like what happened to Dad had been his fault, but then Isabel groaned and lifted her head, coughing out muddy river water. She paused, bedraggled like a drowned rat, then turned to look at him.

  ‘Gracias,’ she whispered.

  Ash closed his eyes and lowered his head onto the wood beside Isabel as all those horrible feelings washed away down the river. He had saved her. He really had.

  He had saved Isabel just like he was going to save Mum.

  ‘Gracias,’ she said again.

  ‘De nada.’

  18 hrs and 08 mins until Shut-Down

  The platform turned and bobbed as it washed downriver, but they had already survived the worst of it. By the time Ash flipped the pallet and brought Isabel above water, the main course of the river had widened further and the current had spread across its width. This gave it more space to accept the heavy rainwater pouring off the mountain.

  ‘You all right?’ Ash asked. Their faces were just centimetres apart, their eyes locked together.

  ‘Yes. Cut me loose.’

  Unclipping the knife from his belt, Ash touched the razorsharp blade to the ropes. ‘Hold tight.’

  It wasn’t as easy as simply cutting in one place, so it took some effort to free her, but Isabel clung to the boards until Ash had sliced through the last piece and the ropes fell away into the water. He jammed the knife back into its sheath, then they took up position side by side on the pallet, with their legs trailing in the river, acting as rudders.

  ‘Over there.’ Isabel pointed to a place on the right where the bank eased into the water. It was flat and covered with pebbles, and if they could reach it, they would be able to escape the river’s hold on them. ‘We have to kick hard.’

  So they kicked like maniacs, inching towards the edge of the main current and finally breaking free of it. From there it was much easier, and it wasn’t long before they saw the pebbles beneath the stiller water.

  ‘I can touch the bottom,’ Ash shouted, and he slipped off the platform so he was standing waist deep.

  Isabel did the same and they let go of the pallet, watching it spin in lazy turns as it drifted back towards the place where the river ran whi
te. Eventually the current caught it once more and it whipped away.

  Exhausted, they sat on the pebbles and stared at the river that had almost killed them. Isabel’s skin was white and there was a trickle of blood from her nose. ‘So I guess we were too heavy.’

  ‘Yeah. I guess so.’

  ‘But we survived. Maybe it will help with your fear of heights?’

  ‘I think it’s made it worse. And we lost everything.’ His satchel was gone, the rifle, and Isabel’s backpack too.

  ‘We still have our knives,’ Isabel said. ‘We can survive. And we were lucky. There is a waterfall that way.’ She tipped her bruised chin to indicate downriver. ‘We would have both been killed if you hadn’t . . .’ Her chin quivered like she was about to cry, and she wiped her hands across her face. ‘You were very brave.’

  ‘So were you.’ Seeing her bloodshot eyes made Ash think about Mum, and for a moment he was back in the lab, reading the message she had typed on the tablet computer.

  He glanced at Isabel’s watch. ‘Does it still work?’

  Isabel turned her wrist and nodded. ‘Shockproof. Waterproof.’

  ‘How long have we got?’

  ‘Eighteen hours.’

  ‘We should get moving.’ Ash pushed to his feet and held out a hand to help Isabel up.

  ‘You’re right.’ She accepted the offer and pulled herself up beside him. ‘We have only two hours before it gets dark.’ She pointed into the forest. ‘This way.’

  ‘Thorn was there,’ Ash said as they trudged deeper among the trees. ‘When the rope snapped and we went into the water, I saw him on the bank. I think he was shouting something at me.’

  ‘Shouting what?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Well, it doesn’t matter now. He must be far behind us. The rope is gone and there’s no other way to cross when the river is so fast. Things turned out good for us.’

  ‘Except we almost died,’ Ash said. ‘And now we’re soaking wet. Oh, and we’ve lost all our gear. It’s my fault – I don’t know my own strength any more. A few days ago, I couldn’t even do ten push-ups but now . . . I don’t know. I need to be more—’

  ‘Careful.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘No, I mean be careful.’ Isabel stopped and pointed to the ground. ‘Don’t stand there.’

  Ash glanced down to see a mass of ants marching from left to right across his path. They were big, at least five centimetres long. They had narrow bodies and huge heads with strong mandibles, and there were thousands of them, clambering over one another, moving in a wide, red-and-black column. When Ash focused, he could hear their movement as they passed across the forest floor – the scuttling of a million legs moving against one another, and the snipping of jaws as they tore through the insects in their path. The ants swarmed over everything, leaving nothing untouched, and their sound was like a heavy downpour of rain.

  Ash pushed the noise away and watched as a mass of ants broke away from the line and came towards him. ‘What are they doing?’

  ‘Don’t move,’ Isabel whispered.

  ‘They’re coming for us.’ Ash took a step back.

  ‘Stay still,’ Isabel hissed. ‘They hunt by movement.’

  ‘They hunt?’ Ash froze and stared as the mass came towards them. Closer and closer until they were almost touching. He imagined them crawling up his legs and swarming over him, but he remained still as they moved closer. It was as if the ground was boiling in front of him, but then they stopped. As one, the insects came to a sudden halt, with their antennae feeling the air and their scissor-like mandibles opening and closing.

  ‘Just stay still,’ Isabel said in a near-whisper.

  Ash remained frozen to the spot as the ants tasted the air for a few long seconds before turning and continuing back to meet their original path. Now, instead of a line, the ants were marching in a curve that came close to Ash and Isabel, then moved away from them.

  ‘What’s that all about?’ Ash let out his breath but still didn’t dare move. ‘It’s like they were checking us out.’

  ‘Not us, I think. You. They know we are here, but they don’t come to us because of you. Just like the boar stopped, and the insects don’t bite you . . .’ Isabel glanced at Ash.

  ‘You think I’m some kind of freak?’

  ‘Ash Plus?’ Isabel raised her eyebrows. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Great.’ His voice was heavy with sarcasm.

  ‘It doesn’t matter what you are. You are my friend and you saved my life many times. In the BioSphere, Thorn would have killed us. The boar. The river. And now the giant soldier ants.’ Isabel pointed to a mass of black writhing bodies at the base of a nearby tree. The ants were piling around each other, forming an enormous, seething ball. ‘They make a nest out of themselves at night, then move on when the sun comes up.’

  ‘Gross.’

  ‘They’re very dangerous,’ she said. ‘They eat everything in their way. Walking into an army of them would be like walking into a pool full of piranhas. I have heard of people leaving their villages because they have seen soldier ants coming, but here on Isla Negra they are the biggest I have ever seen.’

  It didn’t surprise Ash. Everything on Black Island was bigger, stronger and more dangerous than anywhere else.

  ‘If you stand on them, they would cover you in seconds.’

  ‘Would they eat a person?’

  ‘If there are enough, they would eat anything.’ Isabel tore her eyes from the mass of insects. ‘Come. We must keep going.’

  They took quiet, careful steps as they moved into the jungle, leaving the ants behind. Ash scanned up and down, afraid of what he was going to stand on as well as what might fall on him from above. He would have been happy if he never saw another insect in his life. Looking around like that, though, rather than just staring at Isabel’s back, he realized something he hadn’t noticed before. ‘Are we on a path?’

  ‘Yes. Papa and I have come this way, but we didn’t make the path. I think it was here many years ago.’

  ‘Made by who?’

  ‘Papa said soldiers were here.’

  ‘Soldiers? From where?’

  ‘You will see.’

  16 hrs and 18 mins until Shut-Down

  When they finally reached the pool, it was like stepping into an oasis. The place was carpeted with flat, moss-draped rocks, as green as envy. Trees grew around them in a rough circle, as if it were sacred ground, the trunks leaning forward in prayer. Complicated root systems snaked around and over the rocks. The sweet smell of fresh water filled the cool air and the sound of a babbling stream chattered somewhere out of sight.

  About twenty metres from the trees, the pool itself was so clear and still that if it wasn’t for the fallen tree lying in its shallows, distorted slightly by the water, Ash might not have even realized it was there.

  Isabel stopped and bent at the waist, putting her hands on her thighs. She stayed that way for a moment, catching her breath, then scanned the clearing. ‘This is where we come. Papa and me. We walk here when he wants to get away from the BioSphere.’

  ‘I can see why.’ There was a sense of freshness there, as if the water gave up its coolness to the air. Ash tore his eyes from it and looked at Isabel, seeing the way she frowned and bit at her lower lip. He could tell she was thinking about her dad.

  Isabel sniffed and reached back to unfasten her ponytail. She let the hairband roll over her wrist, and when she had gathered her hair together once more, she tied it back again, pulling it tight. ‘It will be dark any moment,’ she said. ‘We should get inside.’

  ‘Inside?’

  Isabel pointed to the vegetation at the left side of the pool, but Ash saw nothing.

  ‘And what do you mean, “It’ll be dark any moment”?’ ‘It gets dark quickly.’

  She wasn’t joking. It took no more than a few minutes to pick their way across the rocks, but by the time they got to the place Isabel had pointed to, the sun was already dropping a
nd much of the light had gone from the day.

  ‘Animals sometimes come to the pool at night,’ she said. ‘It is better not to be outside.’

  ‘What kind of animals?’

  ‘I have seen boar prints here.’

  A vision of that huge, ugly creature with tusks big enough to rip a man in half, popped into Ash’s head. ‘Fantastic.’ Ash reached down to put one hand on his knife as they came closer to the trees on the left side of the pool. He could now see that something was there – some kind of moss-covered structure hidden by the jumbled mess of trees and intertwined branches. ‘What is this place?’

  ‘From when the soldiers were here.’ Isabel brushed away a hanging trail of vines to reveal a rusted metal door. She put her shoulder to it and pushed hard, the metal groaning as it swung open.

  The musty smell that flooded out was a combination of concrete dust, decay and a thousand years’ worth of stale air. There was something else too, something that clawed at the back of Ash’s throat and burnt the inside of his nostrils like strong mustard.

  They’re waiting for you in there, whispered the voice. Monsters in the dark. And they want to tell you a secret. Can you keep a secret?

  ‘Is it safe?’ He chased the voice away. ‘It looks . . . creepy.’

  ‘It is creepy,’ Isabel said, ‘but it’s fine.’

  ‘And what’s that smell?’

  Isabel shrugged. ‘Bats, I think.’

  ‘And I’m guessing they’re bigger than normal bats?’

  ‘Maybe a little.’

  ‘Do we have to go in there? Maybe we should just keep going?’

  Isabel shook her head and looked back the way they had come. ‘It is better to be inside. It will be cold at night, and dangerous.’

  Ash remembered the boar, the outlandish ants, and wondered what animals Isabel hadn’t told him about. He imagined monstrous crocodiles in the pool, and wild cats slinking through the trees.

  ‘We need to rest and get dry,’ Isabel said. ‘It is very bad to be so wet in the jungle. We’ll get sick and be no good for anything.’ She looked at Ash for a second when she said the word ‘sick’, and Ash knew they were both thinking the same thing.