It’s almost time.
Chapter Four
The forest around the pods is loud with people rushing through the gray rain and slick mud, shouting to one another. Scouting parties comprised of the first wave of gang members have been heading out into the rain soaked forest since midday.
Rich and I are leaning against the outside of our pod, surveying the growing hordes all coming together to hunt for the station people. Whenever one of the small scouting groups prepares to head out into the forest, Lincoln barks their search locale and his strict stipulation that a person is to be sent back immediately to the main camp at the first sign of the people from the station.
Rich turns to me, a sad look on his face. “I suspect it is not going to take them long to find the station people if they are anything like Ada.” At the mention of Ada’s name I feel myself go numb. “She was so weak when they first locked her up in the pit. I’m surprised she survived at all.”
I can’t say anything in return. My mind has suppressed any emotions I have about Ada’s death. It’s almost as if it happened to someone else.
We watch in silence for a few more moments. “I’m going to speak to Yanx.”
“Good luck,” he replies, his eyes still on the surrounding activity.
It’s late afternoon now. The sun will soon dwindle in the sky and the forest casts long shadows over the pods. The rain is light, but the ground is waterlogged and boggy.
I reach the pod they seem to be using as the control center and linger by the door, waiting to be invited in. Michelle motions to me and I step inside.
Yanx and the Washingtonians have a map of the surrounding area that they have projected on to the floor of one of the pods. It’s the new war room, I suppose. They are marking the direction of each hunting party on the map and soon it is filled with dots and arrows as the search for the people from the station continues.
I stand next to Michelle and survey the map, listening to them talk strategy. “We’ll keep the scouting parties out all night if we have to,” says Lincoln to Yanx.
“They can’t hide three hundred people for long,” she replies. “We’ll find them.”
“Yanx,” I say. They all turn to me expectantly. “Can I speak to you... in private, please?”
Lincoln raises an eyebrow.
“Just say it here Chris, we are in the middle of something,” says Michelle impatiently.
Yanx freezes for a moment and stares at Michelle and then twists her mouth into an approximation of a smile. “Sure, Chris. Let’s go next door into my private residence.”
I can feel the heat of Michelle’s glare but I pretend not to notice. Yanx’s self-proclaimed private residence is the pod immediately adjacent. She has already ducked under the doorway and I hurry to catch up with her.
When I step inside, I’m not surprised to see that she has managed to transform it completely in the few short hours we have been here at the landing site. Soft material is draped over the central computer table, and the screen has been removed and replaced with a crystal carafe of water and fluted glasses. There is a platter of colorful fruit and another of bread and soft, yellow cheese. A comfortable recliner has been fashioned along six of the seats that ring the inside of the pod.
“Help yourself, eat,” she says, lying back on the recliner and waving at the food with her hand. I take an apple and a slice of bread and perch on a seat a cubit or so away from her recliner. Yanx’s exotically beautiful face looks at me expectantly, her long legs crossed at the ankles as she leans back, her elbows bent beneath her.
“Yanx, I want to talk about my mother and the others from my island,” I say to her.
“What about them?” she asks. She raises one eyebrow and looks at me with her wide, kohl-rimmed eyes. Then she reaches over and takes the apple from my hand, her fingers brushing mine. She takes a slow, deliberate bite and hands it back to me.
“I want your word that we will all be released once you capture the people from the station. I want you to ensure that my mother and friends who have erroneously sided with the station will be allowed to go free, despite their poor judgment.”
“Is that what you want, Chris?” she purrs. She slides closer to me and folds her legs around herself. She leans in, bringing her face, her lips, by the side of my face. I can feel her breath on my cheek. My pulse is racing.
“Yes Yanx, please. I need you to promise me this.”
“You need me to promise you this,” she says, her mouth moving closer to mine. She leans in and kisses me gently, teasingly. I slide my hand up her arm and then her back. We are kissing again with more intensity. I want her.
Then, like a flash of lightning, I see Delphine's face behind my closed eyes. I’m kissing Yanx, but in my mind I’m at the revel kissing Delphine once more. Yanx is everything Delphine is not, and Delphine is everything Yanx can never be. I push Yanx gently away and slide around her.
I step back several cubits and wipe my mouth. Yanx is staring at me. Her eyes are narrowed, and she slowly sits up, her back ramrod straight.
“I’m sorry,” I say softly. I look at her remorsefully. “I can’t do this.”
“Get out,” she commands. I don’t dare to look at her face. Instead, I turn and walk out into the rain. I walk about a chain into the forest and curse loudly. How could I be so stupid? When I look around, there is a Runner close by staring at me menacingly. I glare back at him and stride back to my own pod.
My boots are caked in mud and I stomp loudly at the entrance to our pod to shake the worst of it off before stepping inside. I push my wet hair out of my eyes and dry my face on a cloth Abigail hands me. “How did it go?” she asks.
I shake my head, unsure of what to say.
Rich frowns. “Do we need to be worried?” he asks.
I shrug and sigh, rubbing my temples.
Delphine is looking at me from where she sits at the central table. She turned the screen on and was tapping the panel of buttons when I walked in. She pauses now and examines me closely. Then she takes out a pen, writes, and then hands me her notebook.
We can’t trust her anyway, Chris. Try not to worry. We will escape from here as soon as we have the chance. We’ll keep Ellie and the others safe. I know what it’s like to lose a parent. I won’t let it happen to you and Rich.
I read the note to myself and pass her back the notebook. “Thank you,” I say. On a whim, I ask her, “What happened to your parents Delphine? You told me once that the elders told you they had drowned but you don’t believe that. What do you think really happened?”
Abigail and Rich look at me sharply. Birch moves closer. She’s wearing leather pants and vest like us. One of the divinity brought her the clothes to wear earlier and Birch accepted them stiffly.
I look at Delphine, waiting for her to answer. She is staring at the wall of the pod but she isn’t here. She’s reliving a memory of something that happened long ago.
Birch sits down next to her at the center table but doesn’t touch her or say anything. Birch closes her eyes and the energy shifts somehow. I can feel Birch holding Delphine up, holding space for her memory, for her sadness.
After a long moment, Delphine focuses on Birch and smiles, thanking her. They need no words. Delphine pulls out her pen and notebook. Her slender fingers hold the pen as though to write but she freezes, thinking once more. Finally she writes and hands me the notebook.
My parents were scientists like me. They would tell me the things they knew as bedtime stories when I was a little girl. These were things that others on the island didn’t know and couldn’t understand because of the culture of ignorance cultivated by the elders.
You know that my family recorded the sea level at the island, as well as the temperature and other climatic observations. We have records dating back hundreds of years. My mother’s father was the harbormaster before her and so on.
My parents had a secret store in the tunnel from the lighthouse that contained their equipment. They also hid scientific
journals kept by one harbormaster from before the catastrophic sea level rise hundreds of years ago. You looked at one of those books back on the island.
I look up at her. “Yes, I remember that book. The author wrote about the ice melting and his fears for the future. It was right at the time when everything was spinning out of control.” Delphine nods and I turn back to her note.
Based on their own observations, the centuries of records and the scientific journals, my parents were certain that the warming earth caused the sea levels to rise. My mother suspected that something strange was going on. She was the first one to notice that the temperatures were continuing to rise but the sea levels had remained steady. She advised the elders that something unusual was happening but they dismissed her.
My mother and father argued the day before they disappeared. I think my father wanted my mother to say nothing further about her suspicions but my mother was worried about the people on the island. I believe that they sought counsel with the elders the night they disappeared.
I went to bed by myself that night. I was sixteen years old. They never came home. The elders told me they were out collecting tidal information in the late evening and were drowned. But now, I think someone murdered them.
I finish reading the note and pass the notebook back to Delphine. “I’m so sorry, Delphine,” I say to her. She smiles grimly and I feel guilty for opening old wounds.
I think back to the fateful night at the revel when I first met Delphine. It was the night that changed everything. It was my first spring revel and all I could think about was drinking cider and watching the sacrifice that the elders said would keep us safe.
But Delphine convinced me to stand up and tell the islanders about her fear of a massive and sudden sea level rise that could engulf Martha’s Vineyard. I remember being so moved by Delphine’s prophecy that night, that I had vivid visions of the island being engulfed by a monster wave.
But fear of a monster wave disappeared and was replaced with something else. “I can’t remember the last time I thought about the floods or what might happen to the people still left on the island,” I say to the others.
Rich is nodding. “When faced with more pressing and immediate threats to our lives, it’s hard to worry about some abstract risk that may or may not happen.”
Rich is right. All I feel is apathy when I think about the island. I can’t even summon an emotional response about our father who betrayed us and remains on the island. I was angry, but now that’s been replaced with something else.
Delphine is writing again. I take her notepad and read aloud to the others.
The flooding will happen once more. Ada so much as confirmed that the dam holding back the Greenland glacial lake would break down soon, releasing so much water that the island will almost certainly be underwater.
When I say Ada’s name out loud, my blood runs cold in my veins. I can’t find the words to respond to Delphine. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” I finally say.
Why not? Ada confirmed it’s a serious risk. It’s something we should be talking about. Yanx and the others don’t care. We are the only ones who know what is about to happen.
The pod suddenly seems so small. Everyone is looking at me. I realize my fists are clenching Delphine’s notebook tightly. I don’t plan the words I speak. They erupt from my mouth almost involuntarily. “Just let it go, Delphine. Enough already. You must have known speaking at the revel was going to put us in grave danger, especially after what happened to your parents. Look at everything that has happened since that night.” Delphine looks shocked but I keep on talking, regardless.
“You put all of our lives at risk. Rich and my mother ended up in the pit after helping you. So many of our friends and family are dead…” I look around the pod. The others are looking at me as though I’ve gone mad.
Delphine takes her pen and paper again and scrawls out a messy note. She pushes the notebook against my chest roughly then returns to her seat beside Birch.
Would you rather be in that ignorant bubble again? Would you really rather be back on the island? I wouldn’t. I’d give up my life gladly for the truth. I won’t go back there ever. I won’t go back and live under the control of my parents’ murderers. I don’t regret a single thing.
Delphine is staring at me defiantly. I close her notebook and slide it on to the center table. Everyone’s eyes are on me. “I need to cool down. I’m taking a walk,” I say over my shoulder as I turn and leave the pod.
Outside the rain has finally stopped and the chill air provides a welcome relief to my anger. I inhale deeply and there is a damp, earthy smell from the mud that was churned up by the recent storm. The day is almost gone with the western sky painted a brilliant orange.
I pause as I walk past Yanx’s pod. I glance through the open door but she’s not there. I’m dreading the next time I see her. I don’t imagine she will react well to my rejection earlier. Yanx is fierce and powerful and used to getting exactly what she wants.
I continue walking through the forest around the ten abandoned pods. They once orbited the Earth inside the station and were birthed from the mother ship to bring its inhabitants down to Earth. But now the Washingtonians and Yanx have requisitioned them for their war planning against the station’s very inhabitants. The irony is not lost on me.
The metallic, reflective surfaces of the pods celebrate the sun’s farewell and the array of color mocks me. It calls out my weaknesses. Everywhere I look my reflection is Ada’s face. I can’t get away.
I find myself drawn to the gathering army which is congregating in a meadow close by. As I get closer, their sound and movement is intense. Lincoln is on horseback at the center of it all. He’s directing the mob alongside Apollo. They are both in their element, loud and strong and in control.
I walk closer to them, to the morass of men and women who have gathered for the sole purpose of killing strangers. I stop next to the last pod, close enough to witness the activity but still within the invisible boundary of safety that surrounds the pods. I know the gang members won’t venture here by virtue of some unwritten agreement. The pods are only for those in charge.
“The last of them are here,” shouts Lincoln to Apollo. Both men are on horseback, riding back and forth, rounding up the gang members and dividing them into scouting parties.
If the last wave of the gang members have arrived here from Washington, it means my mother and the others have likely arrived in this area too. Which means they are here somewhere, out in the wilderness of Canada.
I don’t doubt that my mother and the others—Delphine’s cousin Millie, and our friends from the island—came with the forest people to help the people from the station. Mother will be here somewhere. She may be hiding with the very people I am now hunting.
Apollo’s voice causes me to turn my attention back to him. “We’ll keep the scouting parties searching through the night and if we don’t find them overnight, we should ride first thing in the morning.”
“Yes. We need these riders ready by day-break,” says Lincoln. “We can’t risk those from the station getting further away. We need to mobilize at sunup and use our superior numbers to find them and stop them.”
They ride on around the edge of the heaving mass of people, horses and weapons, and I lose their voices over the din.
I take final stock at the men and women congregating in the meadow. The time to stop the people from the station is nearly upon us.
The sun is slipping away now. It’s almost gone and the deep night will be upon us. I shiver, thankful for the shelter of the pod. I’m reluctant to return and face the others but I know it must happen, eventually.
I arrive at the doorway and look inside. Delphine sees me first. I’m expecting anger but she smiles tentatively at me. Abigail notices Delphine staring at me. “Get in here,” Abigail says. When I step inside, Abigail hugs me tightly and whispers, “It will be okay Chris. We are going to get through this.”
I’m
grateful for their forgiveness and tell them quickly about the plan to mobilize at sunup. I also tell them about the vast numbers of gang members who have arrived, hungry for victory. There is a sense of anxiety in the pod. We all have our friends and family on our minds.
I close the pod door tightly when we are ready for sleep. My demons may torment me, but the evil that resides outside in the meadow is much worse.
Chapter Five
A sharp rapping sound wakes us. I pull myself from slumber and see the others stirring in the darkness. We slept huddled in a group, our bodies side by side on the hard floor. It felt safer that way. I stand up first and peer out of the round window in the door of the pod. There’s no one there, but in the distance—where the small meadow lies beyond the forest—I can see fire and movement as the troops prepare to mobilize.
Delphine appears next to me. I move over so she can see outside. She gasps when she sees the vast number of gang members who’ve gathered. There must be four hundred desperate souls there in the meadow. My hand finds hers in the dark. I can feel the healing stub of her severed finger.
We dress quickly and—despite my trepidation yesterday—eat some food that Rich found yesterday in the pod. It’s not as bad as I feared and actually quite tasty. For a moment I am overwhelmed with sorrow about Ada. I can’t help it. Everywhere here I see things that remind me of her.
Before we leave, we check our weapons. I located an old shotgun for Birch before we went to sleep last night and she clutches it anxiously as we weave our way through the tree trunks. The hordes in the meadow are restless and loud.
Our horses are tethered next to the new war room. “Can I ride with you?” asks Birch.
“Yes, of course,” I reply. Birch climbs up behind me. I’m grateful for both her warmth and touch on this cool, miserable spring morning.
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