by Keary Taylor
“No,” I answered, shaking my head as my eyes stared at nothing distinguishable on the floor. “I am not okay.”
“Understandable,” he said. “But we’d better get moving or we’re not going to get you out of here in time.”
I nodded, taking a second to try to collect myself.
I stood, only to collapse to the floor.
Tristan swore and helped to pull me to my feet. “I swear I’m not just trying to catch a peek, but it looks like I’m going to have to help you get dressed.”
Holding Avian firmly in my mind the entire time, I let Tristan help me stand while I awkwardly pulled the hospital gown off and slid into clothes that weren’t mine. I was immensely grateful when I realized the necklace Avian had made me was still around my neck.
“Drink some of this,” Tristan said when I was clothed. He handed me another plastic bottle of red liquid. “It tastes like crap, but it will help bring your strength back quicker.”
He was right, it was awful. Like liquid sugar. But it instantly flooded my system with energy.
“Come on,” he said, slipping one of my arms around his neck and half hauling me out the door.
He dimmed the lamp when we got into the hallway. He turned left down a passageway and we walked silently for about fifty yards. We took a sharp left, and then another immediate right. Tristan opened a door with a set of keys and then locked it again behind us.
The space we were in was large and dark. An old bed was pushed into one corner and a guitar leaned against the wall.
“This is my room,” Tristan said, leading me to the bed and easing me onto it. “It’s right under an old coffee shop. I opened up the floor to it a few weeks after I joined the Underground. Like you said, there’s something not moral about a few people here and I wanted a way out if I needed it, whenever I wanted. No one else knows about it.”
I nodded. “Just give me a second.”
I placed my hands over my eyes. My fingers were shaking violently.
I was always the one who saved people. I wasn’t the one that needed saving. This wasn’t who I was.
I took five deep breaths, then sat halfway up.
“You could come with me,” I said, meeting his eyes. “You’d fit in in New Eden. The people there aren’t perfect, but they’re good people.”
“You have no idea how tempting that offer is,” Tristan said, shaking his head as he looked up at the ceiling. “But there is something else you need to know.”
The air grew colder somehow with his heavy words and I knew whatever he said next would be bad.
“I overheard Margaret talking to some of her crew,” he started explaining. “That beacon they tried setting off down where you live? They left another one there and they’re planning to set it off remotely.”
“What?” I growled. “When?”
“New Year’s day,” he said, his expression darkening. “Margaret is pretty pissed off. Her entire mission seems to have failed, first with getting your colony to cooperate, and second with you. Sounds like they didn’t get what they wanted from you.”
“New Year’s,” I breathed. “How far away is that?”
“Thirteen days,” Tristan replied.
“What about West?” I asked. “I’ve got to get him away from these people. West hasn’t exactly been pleasant to be around lately, but he shouldn’t be here.”
Tristan shook his head, pacing the room. “He won’t be ready to leave for at least a few more days. You can’t wait that long. You’ve got to warn your people.”
“How am I supposed to just leave him here though?” I said, my chest tightening. I was pissed with West for what he’d done, but I wouldn’t let them keep swaying him into being a bad human being.
“I’ll stay, keep an eye on him. I can’t guarantee what Margaret will do when she discovers you’re gone. I’ll protect him until he’s strong enough to travel. Then I’ll tell him what happened, the truth. We’ll follow you as soon as he’s ready.”
“And you’re sure you’ll be able to get the both of you out?” I questioned. Tristan really was a good man if he was willing to protect West, not even knowing him.
“I’m going to try my best.” He walked to the far corner of his room and pulled an armoire away from the wall. I saw the dim cut out square in the ceiling.
“I’m sorry, I know you’re not at your peak, but we’ve got to get moving,” he said, crossing the space back to his bed. He reached underneath it and pulled out a shotgun and a box of ammunition. “There’s only twenty shells left,” he explained as he emptied the box into one of my cargo pockets. He also slipped a knife in. “Hopefully it’s enough to keep you alive until you can get home.”
“I’ll make it enough,” I said, accepting the shotgun. It was old, but it was going to have to do.
“Come on.”
With his help, I climbed on top of the armoire and lifted the board to the floor above.
Dust clouded my lungs from the rug that covered the hidden door. I coughed as quietly as I could manage. Tristan lifted me into the space above.
It seemed to be one of the few buildings in Seattle the Bane didn’t occupy. How Tristan had managed that, I didn’t know and I wasn’t going to risk speaking and calling them to us. Tristan popped up after me, and taking one of my hands in his, led us out of the building.
It was raining lightly and I felt my clothes slowly dampening. Once again, we walked in the middle of the road, up the street, rising away from the water.
We moved slowly and I was getting tired of feeling weak and human. But I kept pace as best I could.
Thankfully, we didn’t go far before slowing at the side of a road.
“These are the keys,” Tristan said, placing something cold and hard in my hand. He stopped beside a very aggressive looking motorcycle. “This is a bullet bike. It’s built for speed but it isn’t necessarily built for stability. The roads aren’t exactly in good shape these days so you’re going to have to be careful. You know how to drive one of these?”
I nodded. Avian had been teaching me how to ride his.
“Good,” Tristan said. He kept checking around us but there wasn’t much to see. With the overhead clouds, it was incredibly dark. “You’re going to head up this block and get on the freeway. This road will lead you right to it. You’re going to drive on it for a few hours and watch for the exit for highway 101.” He was speaking quickly now as if sensing our window of time was closing. “It will take you straight back to your home and it’s a smaller road than the freeway. Smaller cities, less Bane. It’ll take you longer than the freeway, but you stand a higher chance of surviving.”
“Got it,” I said. I stretched my neck from the left to the right. I was starting to feel like my normal self once again. My skin felt tight around my scalp. The stitches were already healing. I’d have to cut them out in a few hours.
“Now, it’s probably going to wake the Bane when you start this. It isn’t exactly quiet. This might sound a little non-chivalrous, but wait until I get back inside before you start the engine, okay?”
This managed to crack a smile on my lips.
“Chivalry is wasted on someone like me,” I said.
This brought a upwards curl to his lips. For the first time, I noticed his bottom teeth were crooked. But unlike Margaret’s, which were disgusting, Tristan’s were…endearing.
He met my eyes again. “I regret that I haven’t gotten the opportunity to get to know you more, Eve,” he said. “I can only keep my fingers crossed that I will get the opportunity later.”
“Me too,” I said, my expression growing serious again. “Thank you. For everything.”
“Somehow I have a feeling you’re more important than just learning how the Bane came to be. Something tells me you might be able to save us all someday.”
“I think you might be overestimating me,” I said, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other. I wasn’t unsure how to deal with his over spoken, very serious statement. “Bu
t I appreciate the heroics.”
He nodded and clapped a hand on my shoulder.
“Godspeed.”
“Stay safe,” I said back.
Tristan then turned, and jogged back toward the coffee shop.
I’d counted my steps on our way here and translated them to seconds.
That’s exactly how long I waited before roaring the motorcycle to life.
A brilliant beam of light shot through the dark, directly into a window. The Bane inside instantly crashed through the glass.
I gunned the gas, and shot straight toward them.
I wasn’t left handed, and since I only had one hand to shoot with, I missed the first shot. The three Bane rushing me grew closer as I rocketed toward them.
I fired again, taking one of them down.
The other two were closing in on me when I turned sharply to the left, down an alley. It was barely wide enough for the bike to fit through, but keeping my balance and the handlebars straight, I leaned flat against the bike and rocketed between buildings.
I took the next right I could and got back onto the main road, the one Tristan had said would lead to the freeway.
I glanced over my shoulder and saw a dozen Bane already sprinting down the street after me. The light drizzle above wasn’t enough to keep them indoors.
But they weren’t as fast as the bike beneath me and they soon fell behind. The headlight illuminated a green sign with directions to the onramp for I-5. I had to slow momentarily as I climbed the ramp. The road was badly cracked and dropping away in sections.
The freeway practically sang to me as I reached it and pushed the bike past ninety miles an hour.
“I’m coming, Avian,” I breathed.
SIXTEEN
All along the freeway there was city after city. I saw Bane waking to life off the side of the road, but by the time they reached it, I was long gone. The Bane were fast, but this bike’s speedometer read over one hundred miles an hour when I really pushed it.
I realized just how far I’d been taken north by how much longer it took the sun to faze into the sky. It was also nearly the end of December and the days were at their shortest. I had turned off the freeway onto Tristan’s highway 101 for a half hour before the sun started lightening the world. The air was crisp and had I been normal, I would be freezing with the thin jacket Tristan had brought me. The moisture in the air hung between the point of dew and frost.
A tiny costal town had just fallen behind me when I decided it was time to hide for the day. I left the motorcycle on the side of the road, next to an abandoned bus, and headed into the trees. The scarce grass crunched under my feet as the temperatures hovered at freezing.
Finding an ancient maple tree, I climbed high into its branches and settled.
Taking out the pocket knife Tristan had given me, I felt along the crown of my head. The stitches were pulling tight. The incision line was completely healed. I tried not to wonder if they had pulled my entire scalp off to dig in my brain. Or if they cut the top of my skull off…
Trying my best to be careful, I slipped the small knife under the thread, and cut.
Small trickles of blood traced their way down my face and neck by the time I was done, but I cut each of the stitches and piled them on the branch.
The back of my throat swelled.
I’d never given much thought to my hair before. Many times it had felt like a nuisance, always getting in my vision.
But for the first time in my life, I actually felt ugly.
My hair was now shorter than Avian’s. And Avian very nearly didn’t have hair with how frequently he shaved it.
How long would it take to grow back?
I collected myself after a few minutes. I had to survive a fifteen-hundred-mile journey. I didn’t have time to mourn the loss of something as silly and unnecessary as hair.
The sun broke over the tops of the trees, and through them, I could just barely make out the ocean.
It seemed Tristan was right. This highway literally ran right next to the ocean, and so far, there had only been small towns along it. Towns small enough to not even have any Bane in them.
But I was grossly underprepared for this journey. I had no idea what had happened to my pack. In a way that almost felt like losing an arm. I would have been just fine if I’d had that. Now I had no food, no water. I had no extra clothing and I was nearly soaked through. I had none of my familiar firearms and this shotgun Tristan had given me wasn’t exactly in prime condition.
I was going to have to raid one of these towns. And search for gas before too long.
As badly as I wanted to deny it, my body was exhausted. The raid would have to wait. I didn’t last much more than a few minutes before I drifted off.
A bird squawked. I opened one eye and saw it standing on the branch above me. It looked right at me, so focused and so precise it didn’t even really look like a real bird. I didn’t recognize its species; he must have been native to this area. But he was big.
My stomach rumbled. I had no idea if the people in Seattle had starved me those fourteen days they’d had me under or not, but I was famished.
And that bird looked like a meal.
Moving very slowly, I pulled the knife from my pocket. I opened the blade and pinched it very carefully between my index finger and thumb.
I flicked the blade and threw it before the bird could even blink. The knife embedded itself in the creature’s throat and he dropped from the branch.
A smile threatening to cross my face, I pulled myself half into a sitting position, about to jump off the branch and retrieve my meal when I froze.
At least twenty Bane stood at the base of the tree. Just staring up at me.
A curse slipped over my lips as I scrambled higher up the tree. Branches and bark scraped my skin, but I felt nothing as I fled, trapping myself in the tree. I leveled my shotgun at the nearest Bane.
But they didn’t move. They didn’t blink.
They just stood there staring at me.
My heart thundered in my chest. My breaths came in quick spurts. My hands grew slick with sweat.
Why weren’t they attacking?
Why weren’t they acting like Bane?
What were they waiting for?
And then one of them raised an arm, straight up towards me. Clutched in its hand was a water bottle.
Another one raised its arm as well. It held a can of baked beans.
Another held up a handgun and another a box of ammunition.
And another gripped a backpack.
One held up a gas can that sloshed.
“What is going on?” I whispered. My eyes grew wide, my grip on the branches I clung to tightening. “How…?”
They continued to stand there, looking up at me with their empty eyes.
I’d thought about every one of these things before I’d fallen asleep. I knew I was going to have to go after these supplies if I was going to survive.
And these Bane had brought every single thing I’d needed.
“Put them on the ground,” I said, my voice cracking on the word ground.
Every one of them put their items in the dirt at their feet.
“Back up,” I said, climbing down one branch tentatively.
The entire group stepped back exactly ten steps.
“What…?” I whispered. I’d been able to control one or two Bane at a time before. But there were twenty-four of them here, and they’d obeyed me precisely.
And somehow they’d known exactly what I’d needed.
I climbed down a few more branches, watching them the entire time I moved. I kept my shotgun aimed at them, but they just stood there, watching me as I descended.
I dropped to the hard ground, just in front of their stash.
They just continued to stare at me.
Had I finally become enough like them that they no longer felt the need to try and infect me? Were they recognizing me as one of their own?
But they wouldn’t bring s
upplies to one of their own. The Bane would have no use for them.
“Lift your arms,” I said hesitantly, keeping my shotgun pointed at them.
Every one of them instantly raised their arms to the sky.
“Holy…” I breathed, shaking my head. I took another step closer, stepping over the backpack. “Turn around once.”
They all turned in a full circle before facing me again.
“Now leave,” I said, keeping the shotgun pointed at them. “Head north, and don’t come back.”
Instantly they turned as one and marched north. I watched as they retreated through the woods. None of them looked back.
I stood there, stunned, long after they disappeared from sight.
This was new. This was game-changing in a way that I didn’t really understand yet. This could either hurt us or maybe save us.
Either way, the world of the post-Evolution was changing once again.
Turning back to the scattered supplies, I grabbed a can opener one of the Bane had brought and opened the beans. They felt cold and slimy as they went down, but they calmed the rumbling in my stomach.
More than one of them had brought water. I counted six water bottles. I drained one and packed the rest into the backpack. I tried to ignore the math homework and diary I had to pull out of it and discard.
I grabbed the handgun and checked the ammunition. They’d brought the right kind. The Bane really were getting smarter. They’d checked to make sure it was the right caliber.
There was other food as well. Granola bars, all of which were moldy and rotten when I opened the wrappers. Guess the Bane weren’t smart enough to make sure the food was edible. But there were two cans of green beans that were still good, as well as three cans of soup. I loaded it all into the backpack.
Peeling off my soaked clothes, I changed into the dry ones. They were too big—men’s—but they were military grade and durable.
I left the dead bird, now sorry for needlessly killing it, and collected Tristan’s knife.
I walked back out to the road and my motorcycle, gas can in hand. I looked both ways. The road was empty.
Judging from the position of the sun in the sky, I would guess it was four in the afternoon. I’d slept for a long time. I shuttered to think how long the Bane might have waited below me, watching me while I slept with supplies I needed, but hadn’t told them to collect.