Fi stood, nodding, and swallowed her tears. She steeled herself to do the hardest thing she’d ever done in her life. Harder than giving birth to Luke. Harder than tottering for endless miles on stick legs. Harder than watching her mother fade, cell by cell, molecule by molecule, until she’d disassembled and floated back into the clouds from which she came. Through all of it, all of the death and pain and loss, this was the worst part. Without another word, she turned and left her little sister in Hell.
Leveling the Playing Field
------------- Fi --------------
“I wish we could find some way to get inside, Sara, that’s all I’m saying.” Fi eyed the armory from her peripheral vision as she stumbled beneath the weight of the compost buckets. She and Sara had managed to wrangle extra opportunities to case the settlement by volunteering for dish-duty. In order to control the colony’s rations, everyone ate meals together in shifts in the Main Cabin.
The girls worked the giant pass-through window, grabbing dishes and trays and scrubbing them as fast as was possible before the next wave of Truthers rolled in for their meal. It was a dizzying whirl from the first breakfast until the last dinner, when they were expected to take out the compost.
The upside to their chosen conscription was that the compost bin was tantalizingly close to the armory. Fi blew a curl out of her eye and shifted Luke on her back. For work she had to secure him there like a papoose or he’d have been hanging right into the mess. “I just don’t want to miss anything, you know?” she added.
“Yeah,” Sara agreed, as they skirted a group of Lobos coming back from their shifts to the south.
“Hey, girls.” A familiar, but unwelcome voice made them turn. “Enjoying your new life shoveling shit?” Mouth chortled.
Swallow it, Fi, she thought. Just swallow it. She raised her chin. “We’re grateful to be safe, yes, Mouth.”
“Ooooooh, always so quick to say the right thing aren’t you, Marie?”
“What do you want, Mouth?” Sara’s voice was tight.
“Ah, now, that’s an interesting question.” He opened his mouth and then clamped it shut, his eyes dropping.
Fi whirled and saw Silas watching them in the distance.
“What I want doesn’t matter,” Mouth said, his voice low. “Just remember that, girls. What you want doesn’t matter anymore. Not when you’re one of us.”
He stomped away toward the armory. The girls continued on to the compost bin, formerly the camp dumpster, and Sara heaved the top open and groaned, waving her hand in front of her nose. “Ugh! All I can say is, ‘Thank God it’s not summer.’”
“Agreed,” Fi said, clomping up the stairs and onto the platform beside the dumpster. Sara followed and they tossed their buckets of bone and gristle and veggie cuttings into the warm, moist loam.
Sara grabbed a shovel. “You know…” She jammed the shovel into the mix and, straining, turned it over. “…I’m already over Mouth’s big mouth.”
Fi mirrored her, grunting as her shovel dug deep. “No shit. Ha, ha.”
Sara snorted and then stopped what she was doing. She stared at the armory. The sun was nearly down and the electric light inside stood out, illuminating the shadows as the Lobos finished their shift change. Fi looked up and noticed her preoccupation. “What’s up, Sar?”
“Shhhhh. Wait a second.”
The light clicked off and all the shadows disappeared into the forest...except one.
“I knew it,” Sara said. “I thought I’d seen Mouth stationed there before. Silas likes to give him all the crappy duties. He’s worked the armory door the past two nights, and it looks like we’re lucky enough that he’s doing it again tonight.”
“Why is that lucky?” Fi wiped her brow.
“He keeps talking to us. And when he said that about what he wants…it just made me wonder. What does he want?” She put her hand on her hip. “You wanna find out? Ten bucks says I can distract him long enough for you to get in there.”
Fi’s heart sped up. She did want to get inside. “I wouldn’t bet against you, not that ten bucks is much good to anyone anymore.”
Sara mouthed a silent laugh as they closed up the bin. They climbed down in silence and slipped through the darkening wood toward the armory. No one was around. Curfew was coming and the Lobos had headed for their posts or their beds, and the colonists were likely doing the same. They had just a little time before they’d be missed at Nona’s.
When they were fifty feet away, Fi peeled off and headed around the back of the building. She pressed herself to the cold metal and slowly made her way to the front, where Sara had already engaged Mouth.
“…where’s your big sister?”
“She had to take a little break. You know, baby stuff.” Sara’s voice was dismissive. “Soooooo, I had to come back to ask you something, Mouth.”
By now Fi was flush with the entrance and she could see them if she peeked around the corner. Sara was working her way between Mouth’s line of sight and the armory door. A chain hung through one door handle, but hadn’t yet been threaded through the other. Perfect.
“You had something to ask me?” His voice was wary. “And what would that be?”
Sara curled an end of her newly chopped hair around her finger and twirled it. She looked at the ground and scuffed her toe, fluttering her long skirt. “When you said that earlier, about what we want…” She took one step closer to him.
Just one more step, Fi thought.
“Yeah?”
Mouth closed the gap and Fi bolted through the door. The waning amber light of sunset barely penetrated and she fumbled for her matchbook. With a quick glance back at the door, she struck and quickly cupped the blue flame. The armory was surprisingly orderly, with weapons grouped by type. Fi wasn’t surprised to see lots of “clubs” like bats, pipes, and hammers. Those seemed to be what the Lobos carried in greatest abundance.
On stacks of wooden pallets, the “knives” category was laid out by type, with machetes being the most common. The good news was that the “guns” category was relatively small, just as they’d thought. The main problem that Fi could see was the AK-47s carried by the cliff guards. Eden’s AK-47s, she thought angrily. Otherwise, there were only a handful of long-barreled rifles and handguns. She was counting and taking stock of the types when her gaze settled on a pile of plastic bins on the floor. She popped the top of one. “Whoa.”
The bin contained boxes of ammo. Lots and lots of ammo. Her match flickered out at the same time that there was a bump from the door. She cursed and held her breath, but there was no further sound. She struck another match and popped the top of the other two bins.
Her heart pounded as she counted the boxes. Jesus, they had at least 50,000 rounds! It was insane. Her heart sank at the image of their Army being mowed down in the first five minutes of the siege. No matter what Diaspora brought, this was too much.
Her mind raced and she did the only thing she could think of…she grabbed a box of AK-47 rounds and jammed it into her pocket. And with that she became a whirlwind, her hands searching and seizing, feverishly shoving the boxes into every pocket and when those filled, then jamming more into the leggings beneath her skirt. Her heart pounded and her hands shook, but she had to do it. She might never get another chance like this and every box she could steal was another chance for her own Army to survive.
Another sound from the door stopped her cold. She stepped on the match, grinding it into the dirt, and crawled back to the front. She peeked out just in time to see Sara scolding Mouth. Sara’s eyes darted her way for a second, and then she drew back her hand and slapped Mouth across the face. He reeled and Fi slipped out the door and around the corner.
“What the hell is wrong with you, girlie?” Mouth was furious. “You came on to me!”
“I did NOT!” Sara wheeled, heading back toward the cabins at a rapid clip.
“Goddamned tease.” Mouth spit and then rubbed his face. “Ooof. Hits like a ton of bricks, that girl.�
�
He ran the chain through the door handles of the armory and locked it. Fi held her breath as she waited for him to turn away. Once his attention was diverted, she picked her way back to the compost bin. Luke had started to fuss and she jostled him on her back slightly, encouraging the noise. She wanted Mouth to see her.
She rounded the corner and stepped out into the open, brushing her hands as if she’d just finished her work. It was difficult to walk normally with the ammunition jammed against her skin, but all she had to do was make it back to Nona’s. Then she and Sara could figure out what to do next.
“Hey, Marie,” Mouth called from his post. “Tell that sister of yours to stay the hell away from me.”
She waved dismissively, putting her head down and hustling back to Nona’s. It was more of a challenge than she’d expected. The boxes of ammo seemed to burn against her skin, their edges and corners gouging her. They screamed for her to hurry, but every time that she moved quickly the rounds clinked, the sound freezing her in her tracks. After several rounds of this rush-and-freeze cycle Fi stopped. I must look like a lunatic, she thought. Thank God it’s dark. Despite her desire to sprint to safety she was going to have to play it cool.
It took her fifteen minutes of picking her way down the path and trying to appear simply leisurely, rather than packed to the gills with bullets. The darker it got, the more worried she grew as curfew approached. She was just steps from Nona’s when a Lobo approached, blocking her path. It was a man she didn’t know with a shaved head and a partially torn left ear. Yuk. Her mind couldn’t help but wonder what caused that. An unwilling girl biting it off, perhaps?
“Hey, girl. What’re you doing out after curfew?” His voice was high and tinny, no match for his boxy frame. His eyes searched her up and down and she flushed reflexively.
Sweat trickled down her back and legs, winding past the boxes squeezed against her. “Sorry, the baby was fussy. Had to take it slow.” With a silent apology to her son, she bounced him a little more than usual and he startled awake, mewling the warning cries that come before the true maelstrom. “Shoot,” she said, pretending to be annoyed. “Now you woke him up again. I live just over there,” she pointed, sighing. “You know, with Nona?”
At this point Luke let loose with a full belly wail and the Lobo’s face twisted in disgust. He waved her past. “Just make it quick.”
“So sorry my baby didn’t understand the curfew,” she said, as she hurried away, glaring.
Relieved, she moved as quickly as she could without making noise. She slipped into Nona’s with a wave. Luke was still screaming so Nona didn’t try to stop her as she joined a frantic Sara in their little closet.
“Fi, where were you?” she whispered in her ear, bouncing, her hands working with pent-up energy. “I was freaking out. I thought you got caught.”
“Me too,” she whispered back, finally registering the hammering in her chest. Holy crap, that had been close! She tried to focus on calming Luke, but the only thing she could think was, “Now what?” She’d been so intent on making it back to Nona’s that she hadn’t really planned any further than that.
She gave Sara an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Sar. I can explain. But first I think we have a bigger problem.” She pulled up her skirt with her free hand, exposing the lumps and bumps of the ammo boxes.
Sara’s hand flew to her mouth. “What the hell is that?”
“That, my sister, is a much more level playing field.”
It took them some time to investigate their living space, but in the end they figured out that they could pry up the floorboards with Sara’s daggers. The boards creaked, so the next time that Luke fussed, Sara worked like a Tasmanian Devil. With a few thrusts, she managed to get an entire board up. She put her hand into the space first and then, finding no bottom, she put her head in.
Only Sara, Fi thought affectionately. Most of us would assume that the less you know about a dark hole, the less you should shove yourself into it.
“No wonder it’s so freaking freezing in here,” Sara whispered, pulling her head back up out of the crawl space. “These cabins are built on air instead of ground. The space goes under the entire cabin, I think.”
“Good. Then there’s plenty of room.” The girls got to work moving the ammo under the cabin. “I just wish,” Fi said, grunting as she reached to the bottom and set her boxes down, “that I’d been able to take more.”
“Or that we would’ve been able to use them.”
Fi considered this. The thought had occurred to her in the armory, that she could steal ammo that they could then use themselves. But it didn’t seem practical. First of all, the Lobos has most of their AK-47s now. And if she were trying to steal the other ammo there was the question of how they would smuggle it all out without the Lobos noticing. And more importantly, her mind had finally decided, why would they use it if they could hide it instead?
That was only thought she’d had as she grabbed boxes and shoved them in her pants. They were trying to reduce bloodshed, period. Fewer bullets, fewer dead people. The decision was easy once it was made. “You know what, Sar?” she said, “I wish I could have gotten more too, without anyone knowing. I wish I could’ve gotten it all. And then we could have buried it all beneath the cabin where no one would find it. And then maybe, just maybe, we could all sit down and talk this shit out.”
Sara brushed her hair from her face, leaving a dusty streak. “Wow. What a great idea, Fi. Why didn’t we think of that sooner?”
Fi sat up and grimaced. Sara’s sarcasm was too dark for laughter. “I know,” she added, faking a huge smile, “let’s turn back the hands of time to before the Truthers decided to hunt us down like dogs. Then maybe we can talk.”
“Oh yeah,” Sara muttered, leaning through the gaping floorboards again, shoving the boxes of ammo farther into the darkness. “I must’ve forgot that part.”
Waiting for War
---------- Sean ----------
Sean and Asher sat at the river crossing, waiting for Darryl in the lavender light of dusk. Venus glittered above, the only heavenly body bright enough to penetrate the blanket of clouds sweeping in from the west. The wind was picking up and Sean zipped his jacket all the way to his chin. “Is it me, or does it feel like a storm is coming?”
“No,” Asher said. “It’s coming. I can’t decide if it’s worse if it’s snow or freezing rain.”
“Freezing rain, definitely. I’ll take snow any day over freezing rain.”
Asher grunted. Sean took that as agreement. Or perhaps just agreement that either sucked and the coming storm was unwelcome. He shifted in his crouch and settled his weight against a boulder at his back. “C’mon, Darryl, where are you? It’s dark…it’s dusk. We have blankets and food and the liquor…”
There was no sound but the slurping and burbling of the water. Sean shut up. His prattle was annoying even to him. They waited, as they had every night, just in case Darryl showed up with more news from the girls. Most nights he couldn’t sleep anyway. Not without Sara. So he might as well cool his ass by the river waiting for Darryl. At least then he might get more news of her.
Right now it was “so far, so good,” but you never knew. At least, it was “so good” if he could drive the thought of the Lobos cutting Sara’s hand from his mind. Unfortunately, he wasn’t have much success with that. It was like with each piece of good news, each validation that the girls were well, he only grew more anxious for the next. His nerves were definitely fraying.
There was a snap and he stiffened, his hands tightening on his staff as a shadow moved against the faint glow of the water. There was a whistling bird call and Asher responded. It was Darryl.
The man melted from the darkness. Over the weeks of sneaking back and forth he seemed to have transformed into a creature of shadows, more comfortable in the inky, formless world of night than the glare of day. Almost like he’d become nocturnal, Sean thought.
“Hey guys,” Darryl said, breathless from his run
. “What have you got for me?”
“The usual: blankets, food, small weapons. And the liquor the girls asked for,” Asher said, handing the goods over.
Darryl knelt and starting cramming his backpack. “The girls and the little guy are still good.”
Sean grabbed the nearest tree trunk and slumped against it, praying the others didn’t see him in the darkness. He tried to pretend that he wasn’t dying to hear Darryl say those magic words each time he came, but it was getting harder with each passing day. Each day closer to war.
There was another crack and all three of them froze. Sean heard the soft “shush” as Asher and Darryl drew their blades simultaneously. They crouched, weapons ready. There was a second crack from the other side and then a quiet curse. Sean’s nerves jumped to life, the adrenaline pumping through him. Not animals.
They waited, listening, while cracks and snaps continued moving in their direction.
“What do we do?” Darryl whispered.
“Shhh!” Sean and Asher hissed at once.
“Dammit,” a voice said, no more than twenty yards from their position.
There was a shift as Asher coiled beside him. Sean’s hands tightened around his staff.
“I can’t see a damned thing anymore, Trill. Maybe we should stop until first light.”
Sean stood bolt upright at the same moment as Asher.
“Trill?” Asher called.
There was a snap and then silence. Sean’s heart pounded. “Trill, it’s us. Sean and Asher.”
There was a quiet whoop and then a wave of whispered cheers arose from the darkened forest on all sides. Sean’s heartbeat shifted from a canter to a full gallop. Lakeland had arrived.
Emergence (Eden's Root Trilogy Book 3) Page 22