Jaxon Prayer (Jaxon Prayer Trilogy Book 1)

by Rachel West

  I look to Jaxon for an answer; hoping he will have one because he’s had so many others. Jaxon shrugs lightly at me. “I am not exactly from around here,” he says.

  I slump down into my chair. There has to be a way. We can’t have come so far only to be stopped by what…logistics? No, I won’t accept that. There has to be a way to get out of the city. There has to be a way to Annie.

  Red has a thoughtful look on his face but no answers for me.

  “There has to be some way,” I voice my thoughts.

  “We could steal a zeppelin,” Red jokes.

  I look at Jaxon half-seriously. “Could we?” And I want him to tell me yes. Or that he knows someone. Because he has gotten me so far already.

  “Impossible.”

  “Climb the wall?”

  “It is over 300 feet high and electrified throughout. Even if we could break up the currents we would never get over without being seen.

  “H-board?” I whisper hopelessly.

  “After our…ruckus of the other night I don’t imagine we could get our hands on another, let alone two.”

  I sigh and lean low in my chair. Failure crushes me like a shadow weighing on my shoulders. So close. But no way to get to her. No way to rescue Annie.

  “What about going under?” Jaxon offers.

  “What?”

  “Hear me out,” Jaxon says. He pushes the map out of the way and leans excitedly over his tablet. He taps his fingertips against the screen, pulling up a blue and white map of Haven. “There are sewers throughout the city. The mainlines all dump their flow outside of Haven. Here,” Jaxon flips the tablet so I have a better view.

  “Impossible,” I say. I think of the Hollows - how first we’d have to sneak by their tunnels that run parallel to the sewers. How there has to be at least someone down there who has already tried to escape through the sewers. If they’d succeeded everyone in the Hollows would have known about it.

  Jaxon narrows his eyes at me, “Why not?”

  After the last couple of days – one moment I feel like I can trust him with my life. The next I expect him to betray me at any moment. But the way he is looking at me now, excitement in his eyes, and with a thirst I cannot explain. Even knowing he is the son of the Great Uniter, even with the argument we had last night… I reach out slowly and touch his arm. There’s warmth there. Comfort. Trust. He has protected me twice now from the Praetors. At risk of his own life. I know now I can trust him.

  But do I trust him with the lives of others? Jaxon is a Millennial. His father is the Great Uniter. That counts more than anything else could. The Hollows are the one place where we can escape the eyes of the Praetors. It is the last place the people of Haven can flee to when there is nowhere else to go.

  I shrug, “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  Already Jaxon knows me too well, “What are you hiding?”

  I avert my eyes and mutter, “Nothing.” Both of us know I’m not fooling anyone. Jaxon looks like he wants to argue, yell at me for being stubborn, something. But he doesn’t. He leans further back in his chair with an enigmatic smile and watches me fidget under his gaze.

  “Right,” Red says, “I’m sure no one has ever tried getting out through the sewers.”

  “Maybe not,” Jaxon says. “People do not often stop to consider what might be beneath their feet.”

  Red and I exchange a look because for the people of Westwick slums that is one of the first places we consider. The Hollows are our Haven.

  “Look here,” Jaxon pushes the computer under my nose. On it is a detailed blueprint map of the entire city. ‘See,” he runs his fingers along the top of the screen, zooming in on the northern part of the city. “Under the merchants district where the giant bathhouse is the sewers go all the way past the wall.” He drags his fingers along one of the sewer pipes. “The only obstacle would be the metal floodgates at the end.”

  “So how do we get past them?” Red asks belligerently. He thrusts his chin out in a show of stubbornness.

  “When Evie and I visited my friend Darren –“

  “You what?” Red cuts Jaxon off. He turns to face me and repeats again, “You what?”

  “Uhm,” I swallow nervously, “We – uh, went to Crescent City…”

  “Do you have a deathwish?” Red pushes back from the table and stares down at me. “Are you insane?”

  “We needed to find out where Annie was,” I respond meekly. I tug at Red’s sleeve and pull him back into his chair. “It was fine. We made it back fine.”

  Jaxon laughs mockingly and I shoot a glare at him. Red does not need to know about our wild flight out. Our tumbling fall to the ground. The night spent in the crematorium.

  “Why don’t we just try the sewers” I say – anything to distract Red from the anger I see brewing in him. “Please Red. Say you’ll help. I can’t do this without you.” I wrap my fingers around his hand and squeeze lightly. “Please.”

  I glance over to Jaxon, but he doesn’t notice. His eyes are glued to where my hands are entwined with Red’s, a strange expression on his face. I think Red seems the same thing, because he tightens his fingers around my own.

  “Whatever. Fine,” Red mumbles at the table.

  “Good,” I smile and he smiles back. A smile I haven’t seen since before I met Jaxon and for a moment, everything feels okay again.

  CHAPTER 12

  I breathe slowly through my mouth, using the sleeve of my shirt to cover my lips, as if I could somehow filter out the filth that surrounds us. The sewers are bad - not as bad as I expected, but certainly not pretty. I have to try hard not to think about what causes the thick layer of sludge that covers everything.

  Jaxon leads the way, his computer screen in hand, as he guides us towards the point we’ve chosen as our exit. Red follows behind me, a consistent stream of curse words spilling from his mouth.

  My heart beats faster the deeper we descend - I hate being underground. I remember my years in the Hollows. Living in one of the carved-out holes in the rock walls. The darkness that presses in from all sides like a blanket smothering me. Never knowing who is coming up on me.

  Each of us has a light cloth wrapped around our heads, illuminating the way, but it doesn’t feel like enough. The drip drip of water sounds like the salivating mouth of a rabid dog. The skuttle of rats reminds me of the night my mother brought me to the city’s edge, where I know there were monsters just out of sight, waiting for a weak moment. Waiting to strike.

  “Not much longer now,” Jaxon breaks the silence. Even though his words are a whisper, I feel them echo out in every direction, calling the darkness to us. My legs freeze up for a moment and Red bumps into my back. I stumble two half steps forward before I catch myself on the wall. My hand slides against the slick wall, but I find enough of a grip to stop my fall.

  “Sorry,” Red mumbles.

  I bite my tongue to stop a harsh response. I wrap my arms around my body, uncaring that I’m passing the muck from my hands onto my clothes. My own embrace feels like the only thing holding me together.

  “I have to get out of here,” I mumble. Jaxon and Red both look at me with the exact same expression of concern. Laughter that seems so inappropriate and so out of place catches in my throat. That’s it. I’m losing it.

  “We’re almost there,” Red comes up to my and rests his arm across my shoulders. “We’ll keep you safe. Nothing is going to hurt you down here. I promise.”

  “You will be fine,” Jaxon says with an indifferent shrug. But his words don’t sound like encouragement. He says it simply, like it’s as certain as the sun rising. He doesn’t wait for me to respond but instead turns around, leaving me to fight my own fears.

  Sweat pools in the low part of my back, but I push myself forward. I won’t be the one who slows us down; I won’t be the weak one.

  At first I don’t notice when we’ve reached the end of the tunnel. The light changes, but it’s a subtle change. Up ahead is a slightly illuminated darkn
ess crisscrossed with even darker lines. The gate. The walkway we are on inclines slightly upwards bringing us higher than the water level. The sound of rushing water grows until it becomes the constant roar of thunder.

  Jaxon says something to me but I can’t hear him. “What?” I yell back. He shakes his head, then slowly pulls his backpack off, gesturing for me to do the same. I nod, showing I understand. Red sees the silent conversation and removes his as well, so all three of our bags are piled in a circle.

  Jaxon starts ruffling through them, an action that makes me feel strangely possessive of my pack, even though I know he’s the one who gave me everything within. I clench my fists tight until my nails bite into my skin. I know I’m being foolish – It’s what years of owning nothing will do.

  Jaxon finds what he’s looking for, because with a triumphant smile he pulls out a small metal stick about an inch around and six long. He presses a button and the device transforms into the shape of a mini-bow made of blue light. He drops to the ground next to the gate, sitting cross-legged and practically pressed against the metal. Picking a spot, he presses the blue light against it. I lean closer and watch as the light slowly pushes through the gate like it’s melted butter.

  Nearly ten minutes pass before he manages to cut through the first pole. To make a hole big enough for us to pass, he’ll have to make a dozen cuts. I settle myself onto the ground, back pressed against the wall. Cold seeps in through my clothes until I’m left shivering. I bring my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them to preserve as much heat as I can. I think longingly of the change of clothes in my backpack -- we all brought one, knowing the sewers would leave us a mess.

  The chill settles into my bones. I try to push it out of my mind by concentrating on Jaxon’s work. His skin is eerie in the darkness, with the blue light reflecting on his high cheekbones and dark tattoos. His arms move with certainty and precision as he pushes the saw through the metal. His focus is absolute. As each bar is cut through a small grin flits across his face before being shuttered away.

  “Done,” Jaxon announces close to my ear, jerking me out of the daze I’d fallen into. I look up to the sky to check the time, but then remember we are underground. Can’t see the clocks from down here.

  Together, Red and Jaxon pull out the part of the gate that’s been cut away, leaving a hole barely large enough for us to crawl through. Red peeks his head out through the gap, checking for enemies I guess. Jaxon motions for him to hurry.

  I linger behind them. I can’t see far ahead, but what I see is terrifying. Openness. A field that stretches into forever, with trees dotting it like a child’s forgotten toys. To one side a forest rises up. The trees are as tall as the buildings of Haven and stretch high into the sky. A chill passes through me, but what from, I can’t say.

  I steel myself and crawl through the hole. Water thunders next to me. The same noise is echoed in my head by the rush of blood. A hand reaches out to help me to my feet. I grab onto it, hardly noticing, as I pull myself to my feet and look around.

  I blink slowly, as if waking from a dream. The world is -- everything around me is so... open. An inexplicable emption buries itself into my heart. For the first time, I am free of the walls that have kept me caged my entire life.

  ***

  “What do you think?” Jaxon says, his voice is smug with excitement, like he’s showing me some secret place only he knows.

  “It’s--“ I search for the right word, “Big,” I say. “Empty.” The outside world is nothing like the cramped, towering structures I’ve spent my whole life surrounded by. With the border-wall surrounding us, it’s impossible to construct outward, so as the population grows, buildings are forced into the few small spaces left. Floors are precariously added to complexes already hundreds of feet high. In most parts of the city the roads are so cramped that even the few people who own vehicles can’t use them. The only way to get around is the public airbus or small h-boards only Millennials are allowed to own.

  But this, everything out here, you could run in any direction for as long as you wanted and never hit a wall. Tears spring up in my eyes. After the cramped sewers this feels like freedom truly should. The lights of Haven reflect off a cloudy grey sky, illuminating a night that stretches into infinity.

  “Come on,” Red interrupts my wonder, “We should get moving. If we just stand in the middle of the field someone is going to see us. We need a place to change and rest so we can start early tomorrow.”

  I nod, even though I never want to move from the spot where I stand. We jog towards the forest. All I want is to let loose, to run as fast as I can as far as I can. I know I could leave the others far behind. I’ve always been a fast runner, faster than Red, even though he has longer legs and years of fighting in the Coliseum to build his strength.

  We find a small grove in the forest and I smother a sigh of disappointment. The trees block out everything around us, even the sky. The freedom and wonder I felt fades away until all that’s left is exhaustion. I drop to the ground, too tired to stand any longer, and pull my backpack onto my lap. Digging through I pull out the clothes that rest at the very bottom. I brought all black, although the shirt is so faded its shade is more grey than anything.

  Jaxon and Red slouch away into the underbrush to pull on their own clothes. My eyes are drawn to the expanse of Jaxon’s back. Lightly muscled, and marred only by five long scars. After weeks of applying the healing salve the sight is so familiar I could close my eyes and still see it. I shake my head and avert my eyes. Now is not the time.

  I pull on my change of clothes, topping it off with the jacket I demanded from Jaxon the first time we met. The material is light, thinner than my shirt, but warmer than anything I’ve ever worn. When Jaxon see’s what I’m wearing a crooked smile pulls at his lips. I mirror his smile and give a mocking half-curtsey.

  I start going through my backpack again, looking for the small, folded up square Jaxon told us was a blanket. Yawning, I finally locate it tucked into one of the side pockets. I tear the plastic covering off and shake it out, amazed out how it seems to expand before my eyes. I run my fingers along it. It doesn’t feel warm -- it doesn’t even feel like cloth. I shrug, trusting Jaxon’s word it will keep me warm.

  I yawn again, and roll myself into the blanket like meat stuffed into bread. I open my mouth to say “goodnight,” but am asleep before the word gets out.

  ***

  Pressure on my mouth cuts off my breathing, forcing me awake with a strangled cry. “”Shh, it’s me,” someone says. My eyes are unadjusted to the light and all I see is a dark blob in front of me. But the voice…

  “Jaxon?” I say. The word is an unintelligible mumble beneath Jaxon’s hand. My lips press against his skin and the taste of salt fills my mouth.

  “Shh, get up. We have to move. Get your stuff. Stay quiet,” he whispers. Suddenly I am aware of another sound. Crashing, creaking. Something is moving through the forest towards us.

  I remember my fear - my true fear - of crossing the border into the wilds beyond. The automatons. The deadly, half-living creatures that lord over the wilds. Remnants of the wars before.

  I gather my stuff in a rush. I don’t have time to fold everything neatly so I shove it all wherever I can find space. The blanket spills out, half wadded into a pocket it no longer fits in. My heart pounds frantically. Fire burns in my throat.

  I search out Red and Jaxon in the shadows. Both appear ready to move. Their backs are turned out from me, one on each side. Guarding me. I swallow hard. Jaxon tilts his head over his shoulder and sees I am ready.

  “Time to go,” he says. Then, reaching into his knapsack he pulls something out, “This is for you.” It’s a synthblade. I run my thumb along the bottom, powering it on. A vibration so small it’s hardly noticeable runs through my hand. A fully powered synthblade. I’m tempted to test its sharpness on my thumb, but the slightest slip and I’m missing a finger.

  “Jaxon…” I start to say. I don’t know what
to say. A dead synthblade is expensive enough - a fully charged one? A small fortune. Something only a Millennial could afford.

  “No time, we need to move,” Jaxon waves away my thanks. I stare at him with a dumb expression until the creaking of the automaton presses closer.

  I secure my knapsack tightly to both shoulders and we set out. Red leads the way. He doesn’t use the computer as a guide, instead he brings us deeper into the forest. Even though every part of me is screaming for us to run, Red leads us at a steady pace forward. The trees press in around me. Sentinels, watching, waiting for our deaths. How many lives have these trees have seen pass over the years?

  I glance to the sky, yearning for the comfort of lights shining down on me. But instead all I see is tree branches braided together, blocking out the sight of anything else. For a moment it feels worse than the sewers. But, I remind myself; out here I can run wherever I want.

  A tree branch snaps against my waist like natures whip. I grimace as lines of pain burn up my side. I stumble for a moment then catch my balance. Red is already so far ahead I can barely see him in the dim light of the forest. Something scratches against my face like the pinpricks of a centipede’s legs. I bring my arm up, waving away the small sticks and undergrowth that threaten to hold me back.

  A low, keening howl echoes through the forest bouncing of the trees until I am surrounded by the sound. Maybe we are surrounded. Maybe there are hundreds of automatons, closing in around us and no matter how far and how fast we run there is no escape.

  I want to beg Red to stop for a moment, but that means a delay. It means more time for them to catch up. So I stay silent and we continue to creep forward. Eventually the fear fades - not because the threat is gone, but because I am too exhausted to care anymore. My legs burn with fatigue. Each step is agony. Somewhere along the way I must have done something to my ankle because it pulses and burns like someone has set fire to the bone.

  Every few minutes we hear the howl. Can the automatons communicate? Could this lone creature that chases us be drawing in others of its kind?