“Good morning,” says Michelle, going through the motions of civility. The sun is not yet up, but I am compelled to return her greeting. She’s already in her saddle, a lethal-looking gun clutched in her hand. She’s ready.
Yanx hoists herself effortlessly onto her horse. It’s a tall black gelding with a glossy coat. Its flank is branded with the bird symbol I’ve come to recognize as synonymous with Yanx. She stares at me, her eyes icy. I hold her gaze for a moment before feigning interest in my pistol.
The other Washingtonians arrive quickly, followed by Apollo. They mount their horses and it seems we are almost ready. Apollo bounces slightly in his seat, eager to start the hunt. We wait a moment while Yanx and Michelle compare the maps on their handheld prisms.
Yanx and Michelle are talking in low tones when I suddenly tune in to their conversation. “The scouting party saw signs that a large group passed through here,” says Yanx, indicating to a place on the map. Rich and I lock eyes. Abigail sits taller and we are all watching Yanx.
“No one has actually seen them yet?” asks Lincoln.
Yanx shakes her head and goes back to the map.
Lincoln swears loudly. “How is this possible? How do three hundred people just disappear into thin air?”
“We’ve got their trail,” says Yanx. She doesn’t seem bothered by Lincoln’s outburst.
“You’ve got nothing but a hunch by one of your idiotic followers,” retorts Lincoln.
Yanx sets her mouth in a straight line. The tension is escalating.
“What do you suggest we do?” says Michelle to Lincoln evenly. We all look to him.
Lincoln speaks rapidly. “We need to split up, spread out, and ride fast. One group should go west. The other group should go south.”
“What about north and east?” asks Yanx in a bored voice.
“They haven’t gone deeper into Canada. They could never get that many people across the St. Laurence. They would never survive. They know that. Commander Rothman isn’t a fool.”
“And east?” she asks, rolling her eyes.
“Towards your camp? Towards the ocean?” Lincoln laughs brutally.
“They’ve gone south,” says Yanx. “I trust my people.”
“You go south then,” says Lincoln. “I’m going west. Take these… these people with you.” He points at us and then at Apollo. Apollo scowls deeply. “Michelle, let’s move. We’ll need half of the gang members to ride with us.”
“It makes sense for one of us to stay with Yanx so we can coordinate the two groups,” replies Michelle.
“Suit yourself,” says Lincoln. He flicks the reins of his stallion and rides off towards the milling gang members. I hear him shouting instructions as he approaches the restless horde of men and women.
“Let’s keep our line of communication open,” says one of the Washingtonians to Michelle.
“I agree,” replies Michelle. She lowers her voice. “I wouldn’t normally indulge him like this, but it probably makes sense to cover all our bases. Good luck. We’ll find them today, I am certain of it.”
The Washingtonian touches the side of his hand to his face, as though he were shielding his eyes from the sun. Michelle returns the gesture before he rides after Lincoln.
As the Washingtonian rides away, he crosses paths with one of the divinity who is approaching on horseback. She pulls up next to our group and Yanx nods to her. “Tell the others to be ready. The time has come.”
“Chris,” says Michelle, bringing her horse closer to me. “I want you and the others to stay close to me. If we find your mother or any of the others from Martha’s Vineyard, we will need you to be ready to talk them down. Their cooperation may be critical if we are to defeat Commander Rothman and her people.”
“Yes, Michelle,” I reply. “I’ll be ready. All of us are prepared to do what’s necessary. We need our friends and family to be safe and unharmed and you have our full cooperation.”
Michelle nods and smiles bleakly.
Rich, Abigail and Delphine look nervous. “Our people will be okay,” I whisper to them. “Come on, we need to stay with Yanx and Michelle. There are a lot of people over there and we want to know what’s happening at all times.”
The five of us ride behind Yanx and Michelle with the divinity behind us. I glance back at Yanx’s elite fighters, all with uniform black leather clothes and identical tattooed heads. They remain strangely quiet as they ride.
We cross the space to the waiting gang members quickly and, inexplicably, silence falls over the massive group. I see Lincoln in my periphery. He has also paused, watching Yanx attentively.
As if on cue, Yanx’s fine black gelding rears up, pawing its front hooves in the air. It lands heavily and Yanx holds her gun high above her head. In the small meadow under the darkened sky, Yanx hold court before her soldiers.
“Rise!” yells Yanx. She is magnetic. “It is time!”
She fires her weapon three times in the air and it’s as though someone has set fire to the group. Anyone not already in the saddle scrambles to mount his or her horse. The entire group roars back loudly. The sound is deafening. Weapons are discharged in the air and the cacophony of shouting and gunfire gets even louder.
Yanx indulges the group for a moment or two and then raises both her hands in the air. A hush spreads over the group.
“Everyone on this side of the meadow,” Yanx points to her right. “You’re with me. Everyone on this side,” now she points to her left, towards where Lincoln stands. “Everyone on this side is under the command of Lincoln.”
There is a messy scramble as the group struggles to divide itself in two. The divinity ride between the two newly formed groups, shouting and prodding horses until the delineation between the two is clear.
Yanx waits a moment for the new groups to settle. Then she rides back and forth between them, waiting for their full attention. Finally she stops and brings herself to her full height. “Ride now,” she yells. “Find these bastards!”
Yanx turns and begins to ride in a southerly direction. “Quick,” I say to the others, noticing that Michelle is riding next to Yanx. “Let’s go. Stay close to them. We don’t want to get lost in that mob.”
I indicate behind me to the group of about two hundred gang members that are peeling away after Yanx. The others agree quickly and we press our horses to catch up to Yanx and Michelle. I’m surprised when loud chanting and drumming starts up behind us. There’s a hunger in the air that’s palpable. Birch tightens her grip around my waist and whispers to me, “The group wants blood.”
The small group of divinity that ride behind us are calling out directions to each other. Yanx and Michelle continue to ride in front, their maps held aloft before them, the screens glowing brightly in the darkness. With one last look at the pods which glisten in the moonlight, twinkling like the stars they used to call home, I steel myself and follow them south, deeper into the forest.
We ride for a while through the rugged landscape. The forest is dense and the ground slippery and unforgiving. Soon there’s a subtle lightness in the sky. Morning is almost here. Birch holds me tightly as we ride on and our pace is frenetic.
“If they are with the forest people,” I say to Birch. “They’ll be well hidden by now.”
“You’re right,” she says simply.
“I can’t help but wonder if we will ever find the people from the station. Did I ever tell you that I stayed with the forest people once? They helped me.”
“No, you never told me,” she replies. “But I’m not surprised they helped you.” I let her words sink in for a moment. I wonder if Yanx suspects Birch’s true origins. It seems doubtful that Yanx has made the connection. Otherwise she would have done everything in her power to extract all she could from the young woman.
We ride for a while, the steady thrum of the horse’s hooves pound the forest floor as the new day dawns. Yanx and Michelle are within calling distance up ahead and the others ride close to me. Behind us, the group of
gang members has spread themselves wide, covering as much ground as possible in our search for the people from the station.
“How much further?” I yell to Michelle.
Yanx glances over her shoulder and gives me an icy stare. Michelle looks at Yanx with an odd expression and slows her horse until she’s closer to us.
“We are heading towards the area where Yanx’s scouting party saw signs that a large group passed through,” she replies. “We should be there soon.”
“Thank you, Michelle,” I reply.
Despite the thick canopy of the forest, sunlight regularly pierces the cover, decorating the forest with a dazzling array of light and shade. As we ride, I think of my mother and friends. “We have to find them before Yanx,” I say to Birch.
“Your friends?” she asks.
“Yes. And my mother. We parted on bad terms. Something happened the last time I saw her and I need to make things right with her.”
“I understand that feeling,” she comments. “I have unfinished business at home too. When the goodbye comes unexpectedly, you can’t help but have things that remain unsaid.”
I find myself opening up unexpectedly. “I can’t contemplate a future where both my parents are lost to me. My father betrayed us all back on the island I’m from. But I am not my father’s son. I won’t be that man.”
“I can tell that you are a good person,” Birch replies. Her grip around my waist tightens for a moment as though she’s hugging me and I feel a warm sensation in my chest.
We reach the edge of the forest and the group pauses. There are a hundred riders on either side of me but a natural narrowing of the land as hills rise either side of us has pushed us closer together.
Ahead, there is a steep rise on both side of our intended path. We are poised at the entrance to a valley. Yanx is the first to enter the valley and we all soon follow. There are loose stones and mud on the ground and little tree cover. As we progress, the valley narrows further. The group is forced to come closer together and reconfigure as a line.
The war cries and drumming have ceased now, and the group is focused and determined. Two hundred guns are trained on the surrounding countryside. We are one long, snake-like creature, ready to suffocate any living thing we find.
Abigail hears it first. It’s our signal, two sharp short whistles. She motions subtly to me with her hand and I ride closer to her. We hear it again over the sounds of the group. To anyone else it would sound like a persistent bird, but we know.
Rich, Abigail and myself are the original three. We’ve been together our whole lives, and we devised the signal back on the island. It means, ‘watch out’ or ‘I’m coming’. The only other people who know the signal are the small group of rebels who escaped Martha’s Vineyard with is. It must be one of them.
“What are we going to do?” whispers Abigail.
“We need to find them before Yanx does. I don’t trust her, especially after my recent failed attempt to speak to her. She’ll slaughter our people along with everyone else,” I reply.
“I’ve an idea,” she says.
We ride for a few more moments before Abigail cries out as she falls off her horse to the ground. Delphine stops her horse and jumps down, running to Abigail’s side. Abigail lies seemingly winded on the ground.
I stop next to Abigail’s horse, which has run on about a chain. Birch climbs on and we ride together back to Abigail.
Yanx has seen us. “Hurry up,” she yells to us from further ahead.
“We’ll catch up to you,” I call back. “We won’t be long.” Yanx stares at me but says nothing further. I see her watching us as the line progresses further through the valley.
Keeping one eye on Yanx, I crouch beside her, examining the deep gravel graze on her side. “You’re crazy,” I tell her. I help her to her feet. She’s limping but the wounds are superficial.
“Did you hear that too?” I ask Rich. He shakes his head. “Abigail heard our signal.”
“Do you think they are here somewhere?” asks Rich. His eyes grow wide.
We try to look around surreptitiously. The last thing we need is for Yanx to come back. The snaking line has gone ahead five chains when I spy the small red flag floating around near a scrubby bush halfway up the steep hill on one side of the valley.
“There,” I say to the others. I point with my toe and they follow the imaginary line until they see the red flag.
“We need to get up there,” says Rich. I can feel his excitement.
“How? Yanx will shoot us before we get one chain,” says Abigail.
“How about we signal somehow to let them know we’ve seen them,” says Rich.
“Don’t wave,” I blurt out. I look down the line of gang members moving through the valley and see Yanx is still watching us closely. “Does anyone have anything red?” I ask. Everyone shakes his or her head. We look at each other, unsure of what to do.
“We have to hurry. Yanx won’t tolerate this much longer,” Abigail hisses.
Birch says timidly: “I have a tattoo on my back. It’s a red flower, a corn poppy.”
“Can you take off that vest?” I say, pointing to her tight leather over-garment. She unbuttons it quickly and drops it to the ground. She’s wearing a thin, tattered undershirt, and she hugs herself in the cool morning air. Her near nakedness seems a source of power, not vulnerability, and she stands taller. She’s defiant in spite of her abuse.
“Yanx has seen us, she’s coming,” whispers Rich.
I spin Birch around to face me, her back to the scrubby bracken. She lifts her thin shirt at the back, flashing the bright red poppy for just a moment. I look at the bushes but there’s no movement, no return flag. I hope our message got through: we see you.
I hand Birch the leather vest and she slides back into it hurriedly.
“What’s this?” asks Yanx. Her gun is out but not quite pointed at us. She watches Birch do up her vest with a nasty sneer on her face.
“She was complaining of pain, I needed to examine her wounds,” I say. I am already climbing into my saddle and don’t look at Yanx. I reach a hand down to Birch.
“Come on everyone. We need to keep moving if we are going to stop the people from the station.” I dig my heels into my horse’s side. He whinnies then sets off at a fast trot. I can hear the others mount their horses behind me.
We ride fast to catch up to the main group. Yanx is now behind us. I can feel her eyes burning into my back. I’m sure she suspects something. In the distance I see a handful of horsemen riding towards us through the valley.
“Who is that?” asks Birch.
“I think it’s Yanx’s search party, the ones who found signs that the people from the station passed through here.”
“Do you think your friends saw our signal?”
“I hope so.”
Yanx overtakes us and rides around the main group to Michelle, who has stopped in front of the search party. “Come on,” I say to the others. We follow Yanx, getting closer so we can hear what is going on.
“What did you find?” Yanx asks a horseman from the search party.
“Fires were lit here,” replies the man. He shows Michelle and Yanx some marks on the ground. All that remains is a small amount of ash and charcoal embedded in the mud. The evidence has mostly washed away in the recent storm. The man continues, “ …And over here, it looks like they cut down trees, maybe to make a shelter.”
“This was a large group,” says Michelle, surveying the ashen remains and the damage done to the trees. “It’s likely them. None of the local people would be out in the open like this.”
“Do you know which direction they’ve gone?” asks Yanx.
“The tracks lead that way, further through the valley.”
“It looks as though they are on foot,” comments Michelle.
“We should be able to catch up to them quickly in that case,” says Apollo, who has appeared next to Yanx. I glare at him with hatred in my eyes but he doesn’t seem to notic
e.
“What’s the plan here,” says Michelle. “They’ve got some pretty serious arsenal, as you know.
“We’ve got the rocket launchers, the tear gas grenades, I say we charge them, send this lot out first as cannon fodder.” Yanx indicates to the gang members loitering around us. “Even if we lose half my people, we’ll be able to get close enough to overpower them.”
Michelle nods, a grim expression on her face. She pulls out the small prism and begins to speak into in urgent whispers.
I watch Yanx and Michelle and stare at what is left of the fire pits, wondering about this group from the station and how they felt on their first night on Earth. I recall Ada’s wonder as she surveyed our forest back on the island. The fire and this open space would have felt like freedom.
Yanx moves towards her people and speaks loudly above the din of their voices. “The people we hunt have been here, and they aren’t long gone. Follow the tracker at the front and when you see them, don’t hesitate. It’s kill on sight!”
There’s an appreciative roar. The tracker mounts his horse and they begin to ride down the valley, followed closely by Yanx’s people who hold their weapons at the ready.
Chapter Six
Yanx, Michelle and Apollo hang back, waiting for the two-hundred gang members to funnel into the narrowing valley following the tracker. The five of us take our cues from Yanx and hang back. Yanx has alluded to the fact that those on the front line are more likely to be casualties of this war and we want to make it out of here alive.
While we wait, I count fourteen divinity lingering nearby. They wear matching bird tattoos on the shaved sides of their scalps, as well as fierce, take-no-prisoner expressions. “Those women frighten me,” whispers Birch.
“Yes, let’s stay clear of them,” I reply in a low voice. “I don’t know who is worse. The divinity or the gang members.”
“Apollo is the worst,” says Abigail as she steps her horse closer to us.
As we watch, Yanx nods and the divinity begin to ride as a group after the gang members. Yanx and Apollo follow closely behind and then Michelle. We are at the tail end of the army.
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