by J. Thorn
“Are they evil?” he asked.
“Valks just are,” said the Nikkt leader. “We let them out and now our sons will forever have to deal with them.”
“Jonah. It is Corrun.”
Jonah looked up to see Declan standing several feet behind the fire ring. He had both hands wrapped around his axe and his eyes flitted back and forth between the chieftains.
“What of him?” Jonah asked.
“He is sick. He has requested your presence.”
The Nikkt leader smiled at Jonah and waved his hand, as if to signal he understood the burden of leadership.
“I would like to talk again of the Valks,” Jonah said to the man.
“I would not,” said the Nikkt leader. “But will do so if you so desire. It is good to speak to another chief and not have to play stupid games of power.”
Jonah stood and nodded at the Nikkt leader before following Declan through the camp to Corrun’s tent. Solomon and Gunney stood guard outside it.
“What is it?” Jonah asked the men.
They both shrugged and shook their heads. Declan pulled the flap of the tent back and the reek of rot hit Jonah in the face. He opened his mouth to breathe, trying to avoid the smell of maggots and piss.
“Jonah?”
Corrun lay beneath a mass of fouled rags. His carrier wrung out a wet cloth and placed it on the old man’s forehead. Jonah saw a Reed warrior standing in the corner with a wrap around his face.
“Hello, Corrun. The Council sends its well-wishes.”
Corrun rolled his eyes, knowing it did no such thing.
“What is wrong with him?” Jonah asked the carrier.
“His ears are fine,” said Corrun.
Jonah smiled, despite the wretched odors and condition of the old man. “Can you make it back to Wytheville?”
“Maybe, but it will have to be on a stretcher, my lord,” said the carrier. “He cannot walk that far.”
“Bah,” Corrun said, waving his hand and releasing a new stench into the air—the cloying smell of body odor and shit. “I’ll sit at the head of the Council at Wytheville if that’s what you need.”
“The earth-mother. She grumbles,” said Jonah.
As if on cue, the ground shook. The aftershock rolled through the tent, and the Reed guard put his arms out, as if to keep the tent from collapsing.
When it passed, Corrun laughed. It turned into a rancid cough and, once he recovered, he spoke to Jonah again. “She’s shaken for many generations. No harm to us or the clans.”
Jonah thought back to his conversation with the Nikkt leader and the mysterious Valk. He shivered. “We will be leaving the plains of Eliz for Wytheville soon.”
“Fleeing back home early to avoid the angry clans of Eliz now that their city is falling down?”
The guard in the corner flinched. Jonah looked at him and then at Corrun’s carrier. “Leave us.”
They exited the tent and Jonah swallowed the brief respite of fresh air.
“Do not trust the clans of Eliz, Jonah. They are power-hungry, conniving. They can and will use any means to keep you at bay. They see what you’ve done with the Elk—the other clans that have joined you. They are threatened and using the grumbles as a way to keep you out.”
“Rav scouted the mountains to the west. The earth is fractured. Split. The lands here are not safe.”
“No lands are safe. Don’t be foolish.” Corrun coughed again, this time spitting green phlegm on to the ground at Jonah’s feet. “Do not trust the Nikkt. They are a crude, superstitious people.”
Jonah thrust his hands beneath his cloak and looked down at the floor of the tent. He thought he saw a black line forming, the possible beginnings of another gaping wound in the earth. Jonah shook his head and the black line disappeared.
“Jonah. Do not. Trust. Nikkt.”
Jonah stepped aside as Corrun’s carrier reentered the tent. Jonah listened as shouts rose from the camp, the grumbles shaking loose more ruins as well as the confidence of the tribal leaders. Solomon and Declan stood on the other side of the flap, waiting for Jonah.
“Find me the Nikkt chief,” Jonah said. “Please hurry.”
Chapter 50
“He’ll drown in his own fluid. I wouldn’t move him,” the Nikkt leader said.
Corrun groaned and turned on the cot.
Jonah looked at the man’s carrier and then back to the Nikkt leader. “I tend to agree. With the earth splitting, and a flood of refugees coming out of Eliz, there’s no way we could guarantee his safety on the road.”
The carrier stood silently, knowing better than to question the clan’s chief. The Nikkt leader bent down low and put his face to Corrun’s. He shivered as the old man exhaled the odor of rotten meat into the cramped confines of the tent.
“He’s has gut rot. I would not move him.”
“Fuck all,” Corrun said, his eyelids fluttering and dark green snot running from his nostrils. “Since when do you let an animal make decisions for the Elk?”
The Nikkt leader stood and took a step back from Corrun. He nodded at Jonah as if the old crank was an insolent child who needed a reprimand.
“He’ll be fine. The old man is hardy,” Jonah said.
“We could hide him in an abandoned tunnel until he heals.”
Corrun’s eyes flashed, his mouth hanging open. Jonah tilted his head and looked at the carrier but the man remained still and silent.
“We could,” Jonah said.
“With those creatures? Are you out of your mind?” Corrun asked.
“I don’t know what else to do,” said Jonah.
“There is another option,” said the Nikkt leader. He stepped in front of Corrun’s cot and whispered to Jonah. “But it would require a risk.”
Jonah stared into the man’s eyes, hoping to detect a flicker or spasm that might indicate he was lying. He saw none. “And what would that be?” Jonah asked.
“White mushrooms. We’ve used them before to cure infected wounds, which have gone beyond washing, when warriors were wounded in battle. It hasn’t been needed for a few years, but I know where it grows. It’s strong stuff, and will knock him out cold, but it works to remove sickness like this.”
Jonah waited.
“But it’s at the end of the line,” the Nikkt leader said.
“What is that?” Jonah asked.
“What the old ones used to call it. The place where the tunnels came to an end. There is one not far from here.”
“No,” Corrun said through a series of barking coughs that sounded wet and chunky.
“Isn’t that where these Valk things live? You want us to go there?” Jonah said.
“We can be in and out quickly. The Valks are already leaving Eliz. They may not be there. Their tunnels go much further out, and I would imagine they will have moved away from the collapses.”
“Don’t, Jonah,” said Corrun. “He’s setting you up for an ambush. Don’t trust him.”
“How far?” Jonah asked, as he ignored Corrun’s concern. “And how many men would we need?”
“A few miles from here—an hour by the sun’s shadow. I can gather three or four men and you should do the same.”
Jonah looked to the top of the tent, where the hides had been tied to the main support beam. His mind drifted, thinking of the thousands of times the council leader’s tent had been set up and broken down and how many conversations had floated beneath it.
“Jonah,” Corrun said, snapping him from his thoughts. “No.”
“We have a temporary truce with the Valk clan near that tunnel. I can promise your safe return.”
“He can do nothing of the sort,” Corrun said.
“Shut up,” Jonah said, snapping his head around to glare at Corrun. “Let me think.”
The carrier’s eyes floated down to his feet, and the Nikkt leader stared hard at Jonah.
“My men are busy readying the clan for the return trip to Wytheville. I cannot spare a single one.”
&nb
sp; The Nikkt leader smiled and waved his hand at the flap of the tent. “Then I shall provide the search party in deference to your noble councilman.”
Corrun growled and Jonah cut him off with a scowl.
“Why do this for us?” asked Jonah.
“Because you have the best camping spot on the plains, near the water. The sooner you go, the sooner we get this camp.”
Jonah nodded, understanding now what Corrun had said. “I will join you and your men. Let’s go.”
Before Corrun could protest again, Jonah brushed past the carrier and through the tent flap into the chaotic energy of the camp. The members of the Elk, and the clans they had incorporated over the past few months, scurried to tie down carts. Every so often, a man would stop and point at the horizon, where another column of smoke would appear above Eliz.
The flow of refugees had slowed to a steady stream of people, most covered in white dust despite the constant rain. Many kept their heads down, and their shoulders were slumped beneath heavy packs. He noticed that most ignored the Nikkt leader, which Jonah believed to be a sign that Eliz had been occupied by a large number of diverse clans. He stood in silent awe at the idea that so many people could live in such a confined space and yet be alien to each other. Jonah knew the Elk, and they knew most clans in their home region—many by name. But here, the Nikkt leader stood unrecognized as hundreds of people streamed by without so much as a glance in his direction.
When Jonah turned around he saw the Nikkt leader along with six warriors. “We are ready,” said the man.
Ghafir stood ten yards away, helping an elderly man tie a tattered tarp over a bundle of goods. Jonah nodded at Ghafir and the man looked back. Although the people on the plains of Eliz spoke few words, Jonah believed Ghafir understood his message.
Take note of me and who I am with.
“Let’s go get Corrun’s cure,” Jonah said.
The Nikkt leader turned and walked down the road toward Eliz. A handful of warriors followed, and Jonah jumped in the pack with them. People continued past in the opposite direction, spilling onto the plains and beyond. Most wore blank faces and empty eyes, while others gave them incredulous stares, as if only mad men would be moving toward Eliz, not away from it.
“Don’t worry. We won’t be going all the way to the center of the settlement.”
“I don’t worry about much, anymore,” Jonah said to the Nikkt leader.
The man huffed and then smiled at Jonah, as if he understood that lie well. Leaders of men worried more than most but to show it would be weakness.
“How far?”
“A mile, maybe two. You’ll see it on your right—nothing but a stack of debris covering the entrance to the tunnel.”
Jonah ignored the refugees coming out of Eliz and instead focused on the horizon. The Nikkt leader had sped up so that he was walking shoulder to shoulder with Jonah while the rest of the warriors dropped back a few yards to allow the men to converse privately.
“Will the Valk be there?”
“I do not know,” said the Nikkt leader. “In normal times, maybe. But now…I think they will be hiding somewhere that isn’t collapsing...” He trailed off while waving his hand at the ruins in the distance.
A pack of refugees brushed past them, and one man made eye contact with the Nikkt leader. The man shook his head and then turned a scowl to Jonah.
“Do they blame us?” Jonah asked.
“They don’t know who you are. They know they will be less safe on the plains, and therefore they show you that inevitable pain on their faces.”
Before Jonah could ask another question, a mound of debris caught his eye. It sat a few yards off the road and looked like most rubbish heaps they had seen on their long journey south.
“Is that it?”
“Aye.”
The Nikkt warriors caught up and fanned out in a semi-circle around the front of the debris pile. Their leader turned to face Jonah. “Ready? I will lead you in.”
Jonah thought about Corrun. The old man was ornery and stubborn, but he had been around a long time—had seen many things on the Council. Jonah felt a dull pain in his stomach and his tongue turned to dry fabric.
“How far?” he asked through parched lips.
“Hard to say. It is dark, and we have not been in the tunnel for years. I can’t remember.”
Jonah sighed and spun to look back at the plains where refugees dotted the landscape like slow-moving insects. “The Valk—”
“You will have to trust me,” the Nikkt leader said, interrupting Jonah. “Are we going in or not?”
Chapter 51
“Wait here,” the Nikkt leader said to his men standing by the ruin that concealed the tunnel. “We will go in.”
“But they might still be in there. You need protection,” said one of the warriors.
The Nikkt leader nodded at the warrior who spoke. “We need you out here in case the earth shakes. We may call on you to dig us out.”
Jonah looked at the pile of rubble and then at the haze hovering over Eliz. He had lost count of the number of structures that had disappeared. The dust and smoke mingled with the storm clouds, turning the daylight into an ashen gray. The refugees continued to flee the crumbling ruins, all of them with their meager possessions on their backs and despair in their eyes.
“We can handle it inside,” Jonah said.
The Nikkt leader bowed to him and pointed to the edge of the road. “Remain there,” he said to the Nikkt warriors.
He led Jonah through a jumble of steel and concrete to a black hole the size of a cart. Without comment or turning back, the Nikkt leader slid one leg into the void, ducked, and pulled the rest of his body through. Jonah watched as the mouth of the tunnel swallowed the man. He exhaled and followed the Nikkt leader.
The air changed as soon as Jonah stepped into the tunnel, becoming cool and wet. Jonah heard water dripping in the distance, and he tasted acrid fumes in the air. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. The Nikkt leader stood a few yards ahead, a dull glow putting him into a dark silhouette.
“It is not far from here,” he said to Jonah.
Jonah’s eyes focused, and at first he thought the roots of the trees had burst through the soil and now dangled in the open space of the tunnel in search of nutrients. But, as his vision improved, he saw they were not roots at all. Long lines of cable hung from the ceiling, tentacles of a society long-since vanished. Some swayed back and forth, while others remained fixed in the air. Jonah followed the Nikkt leader deeper into the tunnel as the man swatted at the cables as if they were spider webs.
“The Valk are fleeing the inner tunnels. They are still dangerous, of course, but now they have other objectives. We are not likely to see them this far from Eliz. We are at what they used to call ‘the end of the line.’”
Jonah nodded, although the Nikkt leader would not have seen him do so in the low light.
They came to an intersection where the tunnel split into two. The ceiling opened up, and although the wires still licked at the air like serpent tongues, Jonah could sense the immensity of the space. The sound changed, their movements coming back to them as dying reverberations. Shafts of weak light penetrated the walls in places, and Jonah was no longer sure how deep into earth they had traveled. The Nikkt leader had not led him down a flight of steps but they had gradually descended. Jonah froze when he caught movement to his right.
“What is that?” he asked.
“It is them,” said the Nikkt leader.
Jonah felt the blood flush from his face. He gripped his axe handle with one hand while the other turned into a fist and went to his chest in the most primitive defensive motion. The air hissed and several of the hanging cables swung as Valks brushed by in silence. Jonah closed his eyes and had the sensation of being underwater, dipping beneath the surface of a lake at night. He opened his eyes, shifted his feet, and turned his head quickly left to right, catching only glimpses of motion. The Nikkt leader inhaled but di
d not speak. Jonah opened his eyes and saw the man had grasped his weapon as well.
“They are circling us. Be ready to stand your ground. They will not fight if you show you are stronger than they are.”
Jonah thought of Corrun, and that angered him. If he was about to die, he wanted Sasha and the children in his mind, not the old cranky bastard who had told him this would happen.
The movements slowed, and Jonah saw two Valks to his right. They stood behind a mass of broken concrete, concealing them from the waist down. Jonah stared and noticed that they appeared more human than he would have thought, although they looked more like dead people than live ones. He assumed them to be men with small eyes and heads without hair. They appeared to be painted in black soot with their white skin showing through in long streaks where the charcoal had rubbed off. Jonah saw the glimmer of a blade in each of their hands and he heard a growl emanate from where they stood, a sound like two dogs standing over one hunk of flesh.
“Put your back against mine,” said the Nikkt leader.
Jonah did as the man said as the Valk crawled from the darkness, their growls increasing in intensity and volume.
The pack closed around them; at least ten creatures Jonah could see. Black body-paint was smeared over their exposed skin and shaved heads so that their eyes appeared to float the in darkness. Jonah saw the desperation in those eyes; tiny slivers of black pupils that would not survive the brilliant burst of daylight.
“I am Nikkt. We have a peace. We come for the mushrooms. That is all.”
Jonah listened to see if the Valk would respond to the Nikkt leader. He did not think they would.
I love you, Sasha, Jonah thought. Take care of our children and get them back to Wytheville.
The Valk came in tighter, and now Jonah could smell their unwashed bodies. He heaved and then sneezed, attempting to dispel the rank odor of feces and exertion rolling off the creatures. Jonah counted ten in his field of vision and assumed ten more created a semi-circle in front of the Nikkt leader.
Twenty to two , he thought.
The Nikkt leader took a breath and was about to speak when the tunnel groaned. The Valks froze, and the vibrations shook the wires hanging from the ceiling. Dust and debris came down and the gritty mixture coated Jonah’s lips. He coughed and spread his feet at shoulder-distance apart as the ground shook.