Hothouse

by Stephanie Mylchreest

  The road we are on reaches a junction. Directly in front of us is the reservoir. To our left is where we came from, where Yanx and the others were waiting to raid the fuel stocks, where they now stand watching the facility burn.

  To our right, the road runs along the length of the reservoir and disappears somewhere in the darkness. I don’t hesitate and steer the vehicle down the dark alternative.

  It is liberating to be away from Yanx, from the station people, to be surrounded by my friends.

  Patrick is squashed next to me and he starts to cough violently, gasping to draw breath. I need to get him some water. I slow the vehicle and stop it on the side of the road.

  I jump down into the loose gravel and look around. The night is still, save for a light breeze that whispers past me. Knee-high grass grows up to the road. I step into the grass and call out to Rich, “We need to get water. Come with me.”

  Rich jumps down and I hear the crunch of his footsteps on the road. He pauses by the front of the vehicle and he rummages in the cab before appearing beside me. “Carl and Delphine, guard the truck. We’ll be quick,” I yell.

  “The reservoir doesn’t look far. We should reach it pretty quickly,” he says to me. “I grabbed this water bladder from Abigail’s pack.”

  “Good thinking, thank you.”

  We walk quickly through the long grass towards the large body of water. The moon emerges from behind a cloud and lights up the basin in a splendid silver light. I drink it all in and let out a loud whoop. Rich looks at me—his face blackened by ash and wearing a bemused expression—and we both laugh.

  “That was pretty amazing,” I say. “The explosion was huge. I wonder how long that fire is going to burn.”

  “It wasn’t amazing when I was being shot at. That was pretty awful! But you driving the vehicle under a volley of bullets right at me… I thought you were going to kill me.”

  We reach the water and I take the bladder from Rich. I fill it completely and offer it to Rich. He drinks thirstily and I do the same, before I top it up until it’s full to bursting.

  “What are we going to do with Carl?” I ask Rich. “Surely he won’t want to come with us.”

  “Let’s talk to him. It’s not like he can just go back to the others now.”

  “We’ll see.”

  We walk back to the vehicle in silence. My previous elation is gone as I contemplate the future.

  We are almost back when Rich comments, “It’s still on fire.” We both look at the facility which continues to burn, the flames reaching high in the sky and the black smoke continuing to churn upwards.

  We reach the vehicle and help the others to the ground. I check them over and assess their wounds. It seems a miracle that no one was badly burned. They each take some water and Rich runs back down to fill the bladder again.

  We give them a few moments to rest and clear their lungs of the toxic, smoky air.

  Birch sits on the ground, her back against one of the huge wheels. She looks at me and smiles. I slide next to her and clasp her hand in mine.

  “I found this in the cab,” says Carl, passing me a blanket from a pile he found. I wet the corner and begin to wipe the black ash from Birch’s face. At the same moment, the sky seems to contract and light rain starts falling.

  Birch lifts her face to the sky and lets the water cleanse her.

  “Let’s get under that tree until it passes,” shouts Abigail. She coughs loudly but her eyes are shining. We move under a large fig tree for shelter and watch the rain clouds roll past us in the dark sky above.

  “So what are we going to do now you’ve single handedly removed the source of Washington’s power?” asks Patrick, a grin on his face.

  “Yanx and the Washingtonians will be after you for destroying the last of the fuel,” says Carl. “They won’t let you go… I don’t think they’ll let you live after this, Chris. You’ve gone too far.” He says this as though commenting on the state of the weather and his words fall like stones.

  Everyone looks at me somberly.

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” I say. “I have a plan. But you won’t like it Carl. So I suggest you try to find the others.”

  “Chris,” says Abigail. Her eyes drill in to me.

  “I’m happy to continue on my own,” I say. “I don’t want anyone to risk their lives for me. I know what I have to do.”

  “I’m with you,” says Birch, taking my hand.

  “We need to stay together now more than ever,” says Millie. “Everyone is going to be after us.”

  “You’re all welcome to come. But I need to know I can trust you all. If you don’t like what I am about to say, you should find a way to get to the winery and we can all meet there.”

  Carl stands in the center of the group and hands me his weapon. He puts his hands in the air and spins in a slow circle. “I’m with you, Chris. You can trust me.”

  “Why? Why are you suddenly loyal to me, Carl?”

  “Delphine told me that you plan to go back to Martha’s Vineyard,” he replies. I look at Delphine and she’s nodding. “I’ll do whatever you need me to do. I’m with you Chris. We’ve had our differences in the past. I am sorry for that. But I want to help you and then return to the island with you. I have nothing here on the mainland.”

  “Your mother and sister,” I say to him.

  He nods. “I was never against you, Chris. I wanted to help Ada. I believe in their mission for the Collection, the rationale behind Project Renaissance.”

  “I think after being kept in the dark for all this time, the idea of having access to the truth spoke to all of us,” says Patrick gently.

  “Yes,” says Carl. “That’s exactly it. But now, I just want to go back. I want to see what’s left of my family. I’m with you all the way, so long as we are aiming for the island at the end.”

  I look at him for a long time as the rain continues to patter pleasantly outside the thick canopy of the fig.

  “Okay,” I finally say to him. “I’ll tell you the plan I’ve been mulling over. I’ll tell all of you. I don’t expect any of you to risk your lives for me. But if you want to join me, I welcome you.”

  They all nod and I smile gratefully.

  “I only used one of the bombs that Ben gave me. We’ve destroyed the fuel stocks. Now I want to go after Washington.”

  “Why would we do that?” asks Abigail, her face frowning.

  “The president of Washington knew of the island elders. They control all the gangs in the area, including Yanx. Washington is the very heart of it all. For all their pretense of civilization, they are the worst of the lot.”

  I scan their faces and see Birch and Delphine nodding their agreement.

  “They sat there in their glass island and hid all the knowledge simply to further their own interests,” I say, my voice rising. “If we want to level the playing field, we need to go to Washington. We can try to break into their computers and take everything they know, and then blow the whole place up.”

  I look around at the circle of friends and allies, both new and old. Patrick has a bemused expression on his face.

  “I’m all on board for bringing down the top dog,” says Patrick. “Once Washington falls, the gangs will topple one by one. It will be a new world order. Everyone will have the same opportunity to succeed. I’m with you,” he says to me. “But Millie, I want you to go to the winery and be with your parents until this blows over.”

  She gives him an incredulous look. “I assume you are joking,” she says. “I’ve been through enough with this lot. I’m not abandoning them now.”

  I smile at her gratefully. “Thanks, Millie.”

  “Don’t even mention it,” she replies.

  I look at Delphine next. She has a wicked glint in her eye. She begins tapping on her tablet and passes it to me.

  I have news. There’s no need to break into Washington’s computer. Ben gave me a copy of the Collection. It’s loaded on my tablet. He wants me to share the kno
wledge with as many people as possible.

  “And my people also have the Collection,” says Birch, also grinning. “Remember the commander gave them a copy to safeguard? Well, I overheard plans to copy it using tech they stripped from the space capsules. Then they are going to disseminate it to all the clans. The knowledge is out there. It’s already happening!”

  I feel a rush of excitement. “So all that’s left is to blow up Washington.” I laugh loudly at the beautiful absurdity of my plan. “Are you with me?” The others nod one at a time until I reach Carl.

  “Carl?” I ask.

  He reaches out his hand and I take it in my own. We shake hands firmly, our foreheads touching in a gesture reminiscent of our fathers at the spring revel.

  “Let’s do this,” he says. “Then, home.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The moon is high and bright in the sky as we climb into the huge vehicle we took from the facility. The reservoir stretches out on our left and undulating hills—gray in the moonlight—rise up and roll away on the right.

  The others take turns sitting in the cabin or holding on to the back as we traverse along the wide road that leads away from the carnage we left behind at the facility. The landscape passes by quickly as the vehicle makes easy work of the distance.

  “How are you going, brother?” asks Rich.

  “The vehicle is easy to drive now I’ve got the hang of it,” I reply. My wrists are sore from having to over correct when we hit bumps or holes and my right leg is cramping from pressing down on the floor pedal, but otherwise driving the huge vehicle is surprisingly intuitive.

  “Do you think they are looking for us?” asks Birch. She’s wedged between Delphine and me in the driver’s seat. One of Birch’s hands rests on my leg. I feel acutely aware of it, and of Delphine next to her.

  “They?” I ask, taking my eyes off the long, gravelly road for a moment to smile at her.

  “Everyone,” she replies, playfully kissing my cheek. She holds out her hand and checks off her fingers as she speaks. “Washington will be after us. Commander Rothman and her people will be looking for revenge. And Yanx and her army of twisted freaks will be coming for us, of course.”

  “How would they know it was us who blew up the facility?” asks Rich. He’s pressed hard against the window which he’s opened to allow more room for his broad shoulders. The air whistles through the window and around the cabin. It’s not dissimilar to being on a sailboat that’s caught a good wind.

  “Don’t look at me like that Delphine,” says Rich.

  Delphine passes him her tablet, which he reads for our benefit. I can hear the smile on his face as he speaks.

  After all this time you still haven’t learned much have you? Once they see we are the only ones missing it should become fairly obvious who blew up the last of the fuel. You really should work on your logical reasoning and powers of deduction.

  We all laugh. The mood in our group is buoyant. We feel invincible.

  “At least they won’t know we have this vehicle,” I say. “When they search the area and don’t find us, they may think we are dead.”

  “Let’s hope so,” says Birch.

  “We are also traveling fast—much faster than they would expect us to travel. If we don’t stop, we might make it to Washington before the sun comes up. I’ll need a rest soon, though.”

  “I’ll drive,” says Birch. She squeezes my thigh.

  A sharp rapping comes from behind us. I look in the ceiling mirror and see Millie tapping on the metal tank with her crossbow. She’s gesturing to me so I press the other pedal and we slow, before stopping completely. I watch as Millie jumps down.

  My door creaks open and I join her on the ground next to the vehicle.

  “Hey Millie, are you okay?” I ask her. My legs are stiff and I stamp my feet to get the blood flowing.

  “I saw two fire signals,” she replies. She looks nervous. “It’s the forest people signaling one another.”

  “Where did you see them?” I ask, scanning the dark hills.

  “The first was behind us, close to the facility.”

  We both look back. We’ve been driving for a while but the red glow of fire and a plume of black smoke are still visible.

  “And the second?”

  “It was close. Over there, at the top of that hill.” She points to a place about fifty chains away.

  “I can’t see anything,” I say. “Birch, can you come out here?”

  Birch peers out of the open door and she jumps down from inside the cab. She tucks her light-brown hair behind her ears and slides under my arm. “What’s going on?”

  “Millie saw two fire signals from your people. The last one was over there.” I point to the relevant hill. As we look, a third signal goes off from the top of the same hill. The firelight flashes twice in rapid succession. There is a pause, and then two long flashes, before the signal goes dark.

  Birch’s body tenses beside me. “They’re warning everyone that enemies are coming through,” says Birch in a low, strained voice. I can tell that the signals have rattled her.

  “We better get out of here,” I say.

  “To clarify, I think we are the enemies they are warning about,” says Birch. “We better keep a lookout. We don’t want to be attacked by the forest people.”

  We all agree and return to the vehicle. After spotting the fire signal we watch carefully as we drive. Rich has his gun trained out the window and mine is on my lap. Outside, the others are alert and ready with their weapons.

  “What is that up ahead?” asks Rich, sitting upright in his seat. There’s something large and dark lying across the road ahead of us.

  As we get closer, we can see the problem more clearly. “It’s a large log and it’s totally blocking the road,” I reply, cursing loudly.

  I slow the truck until it’s stopped with the engine still running. “What now?” I ask. Every sense is on high alert. “This could be a trap…”

  “Should we try to move it or go around it?” muses Rich. Even though we are expecting it, when the attack comes, it takes us by surprise.

  The first bullet pings loudly into the steel tank on the back of the vehicle. I can hear Millie yelling to the others to drop down and get out of the line of fire. I’m totally paralyzed watching the others on the back of the truck. My instinct is to drive but we have to wait until they are safe.

  Rich and I have the same idea and both open our doors simultaneously. “Get in here,” I yell.

  They are on the ground and pressed behind the giant tyres, frantically seeking shelter from the bullets and arrows that begin to hail down on us. “Quick!” I call to them.

  They run low and fast around the truck to our open doors and they pile in, clambering over us to safety.

  There’s barely room to breathe let alone steer the truck, but somehow I manage to turn the steering wheel and depress the pedal. We are off the road, the vehicle rocking side to side wildly as it mows down trees and bushes. Someone is shouting loudly to keep going, keep going, as we desperately try to make our way around the log that blocks our way.

  The bullets continue to ping against the steel encasing us. There’s a cracking sound and I realize my side window has been hit, the spider-web shaped crack spreading over the glass.

  My friends are urging me onwards and I press the pedal as hard as I can. For a moment the wheels are spinning and the truck is stuck, but we get some traction and make it around the log and then back onto the road.

  The volley of bullets abates. The only sounds are the loud hum of the engine and someone breathing deeply, calming themselves.

  We drive for a few minutes in silence. Abigail’s foot is next to my head and I give her leg a playful shove. She starts to giggle and next thing we are all laughing uproariously.

  “Nothing can stop us,” says Rich. “To Washington!”

  “To Washington!” comes the chorus of voices.

  After some debate, we decide to leave the road at the fi
rst available chance. Millie is somewhat familiar with the area and she is able to direct us off the main road and onto a narrower track.

  We drive for a couple of hours through a dense forest. The track we are on is not quite wide enough for the massive vehicle. As a result, it’s slow going as we plow our way through overhanging branches and bushes.

  We cross a wide but shallow river, which we are able to drive straight across. “This is the shallowest part of the Delaware River,” comments Millie to me. “We are lucky there haven’t been heavy rains for a few days.”

  Once we cross, Birch takes over driving and I jump down and circle around to hang on outside the vehicle. The surrounding forest is dark and deathly quiet. I pause for a moment on the track and try to locate the moon through the ancient canopy above. There’s an animal howling somewhere nearby and I hurry to the back of the vehicle.

  We quickly figured out that holding on to the back end is the least risky place to be when traveling on the overgrown tracks that wind their way to Washington. Carl is holding on next to me. His black hair flies about his head as we navigate the uneven track. Patrick is holding on next to Carl, and he flashes me his trademark grin when our eyes meet.

  The old forest towers above us as our vehicle forges ahead relentlessly, destroying the tranquility. The heavy-duty tyres and strong metal front plow through whatever is in our path. When I look over my shoulder and see the trail of destruction, I’m glad we blew up the other tankers so no one was able to easily follow us.

  We go over a deep hole in the track and the vehicle lurches forward without warning. Carl slips and Patrick and I both grab him, pulling him back up before he slips. He rights himself and holds on to the metal rail with both hands.

  “Are you okay?” I ask him.

  “Yep. Got it now. Thanks for the hand up.”

  We don’t speak for a few moments, the sound of the tanker shifting and accelerating over the uneven understory filling all the surrounding space.

  “Why did you do it?” I ask him.

  “Do what?”

  “Why did you attack me with stones, back at home, when we were kids?”