by Josi Russell
Zyn'dri cried until her voice was gone and her body ached from the effort of it. She was stiff when she finally sat up. Bright light filtered down through the trees. Her stomach hurt. She still wanted to cry, but she didn't have any tears left. Above her, the prickly trees swayed in a breeze off the lake. She lay watching them. Something about their motion, that smooth rocking sway, made her think of her mother. She closed her eyes and felt her mother's arms around her. She felt a little stronger when she opened them.
Zyn’dri glanced around. The island ground was covered with the prickly needles from the trees above and with little plants and foliage. Zyn'dri thought about the plants back home. She and her mother had often gone to gather berries and flowers. A little spear of drooping violet blossoms nodded at Zyn'dri from a few feet away. She crawled over to it, inspecting the leaves and the flowers. On Empyriad, poisonous plants often gave a warning: a stench, sometimes, or a deep purple undertone to the leaves, or often a waxy coating that tasted bitter and caused an itchy sensation. Here, though, she had no idea what to expect.
These flowers looked harmless enough. As Zyn'dri felt the pain in her middle, she reached out to touch one of the drooping purple flowers. It was soft against her fingers, delicate. She pulled it from the stem and smelled.
It had a sweet, light scent. Not like anything back home, but not unpleasant. Could she trust that it was safe? Her gnawing hunger made her brave, and she put the flower into her mouth. There was a slight tang, but the aftertaste was pleasant. She picked and ate another. They tasted better the more she ate of them. She pulled a whole cluster from the stalk and chewed them. They were not unlike some of the herbs her mother had grown in the garden back home.
When the flowers were gone, Zyn'dri pulled a leaf and looked at it. It was scratchy with small hairs covering it. She placed it carefully in her mouth and chewed. The taste, though more bitter than the blossoms, was not unpleasant, but Zyn'dri disliked the texture and the scratchiness in her mouth, so she spat it out and went in search of more blossoms.
Within a few minutes, she had gathered enough flowers to make a small meal, and she sat at the edge of the forest, gazing over the rippling lake water around her, feasting on flowers.
16
Sol brushed a message from Mezina off the screen of his phone. He knew he should address the terrible way their date had ended a couple of nights ago, but he couldn't think of what to say, and he had just arrived back in the park to make another delivery. The park was squirming with activity, people and Stracahn rushing here and there. Everyone seemed panicked. He had spent the last 20 minutes looking for the Ranger, who he'd left the child with. He just wanted to reassure himself that she was okay and that she'd made it back to her home, then he'd call and smooth things over with Mezina.
He approached a tall, thin Ranger, who was talking on his radio.
"I'll send it over." The Ranger said, looking harried.
"Excuse me," Sol started. The man turned to him.
"What is it?" The Ranger snapped. His uniform read Sanchez. Under that was a little red cross and stitching that read, “Law Enforcement Ranger: Medical Specialist.” He must have recognized the yellow windbreaker that designated Sol as a park service employee because his eyes brightened. "Can you make a delivery to Hayden Valley?" he asked sharply.
Sol nodded. Sanchez motioned for him to follow and they both went into the nearest Ranger cabin. Crates were stacked inside. "They've got this epidemic figured out," the Ranger said as they entered, "and the CDC shipped all this medicine in this morning, but with all the Rangers out dealing with the dead, we don't have anyone to deliver it to the living."
Sol's head was spinning. "An epidemic?" he managed.
"Yeah, some of the Stracahn apparently have sort of severe allergy." He hefted a crate and handed it to Sol, then grabbed another himself, gesturing for Sol to go out. “It started when the yellow bell flowers bloomed out.”
They put the crates in Sol's truck, and the Ranger said, "I don't have to tell you how important this is, kid. It's life and death. Be careful, but hurry."
Sol jumped in the truck, but a shout stopped him from putting it in gear. He looked out just as another Ranger approached Sanchez, and he froze.
The Ranger that strode up inches from his door had a trimmed gray beard and small, cruel eyes. His face was burned into Sol's memory. This was the Ranger who had killed his father.
The bearded Ranger reprimanded Sanchez. "What are you doing sending a volunteer out on official business?"
"Back off, Caldwell. You've been interfering all morning. In fact, you've been interfering for the last three days: hassling Rangers, detaining the Avowed that were headed out to help these people, generally slowing everybody down. It's like you want the Stracahn to die." Sanchez pushed forward, getting into Caldwell's face. "Somebody has to take those meds. You wanna do it?"
Caldwell sneered and stepped back. "I've got enough on my hands."
Sanchez pushed past him. "So do I." He slapped the hood of the pickup. "Get going, kid!"
Sol snapped out of his panic. The tires threw gravel as he headed for Hayden Valley.
He thought of the Ranger as he drove. Should he have said something? Should he have hit him with the truck? The fear and anger and sorrow that Sol had carried for so many years was back, fresh and hot in his throat.
Sol distracted himself from it by focusing on the task at hand. What kind of an epidemic could this be?
He found himself worried about the little girl and wondering if she was sick.
When he arrived, Sol carried the box through the village, looking for a Ranger to take it. The village was quiet. The few Stracahn that were out had a hollow look on their faces. He knew the look. It was grief. His mother had worn that look for a year and a half after his father's death. Sol glanced away from them and walked further down the path.
He saw a large tent, bigger and more awkward-looking than the Quickform huts around it. He assumed it must be the Ranger's station. He crossed the village quickly and ducked inside it. Then he froze.
Sol stared in horror at the scene before him. The tent was filled with bodies. Stracahn men and women and children laid out on blankets, unnaturally still. The iridescence that he so loved about their skin, that caught the light and shifted it in a hundred different directions when they moved, was gone. They looked now as if they were carved from marble, still and quiet and solid. He felt a wave of nausea as he turned back toward the door and staggered out, directly into a Ranger.
"Woah!" the Ranger's voice was familiar. He steadied Sol and took the crate from him, turning to set it on the ground next to the tent. "I'm seeing a lot of you lately."
Sol sucked in air as he looked up into the Ranger's face. It was the same man from a few nights ago. The one who had taken the little girl.
Sol willed his stomach to stop pitching. He looked at the man. Heavyset, with kind eyes and deep lines on his face, the Ranger smiled grimly. "I'm Walt. We met the other night. You stumbled in there without warning, eh?"
Sol nodded, then remembered. "I was delivering this medicine." He gestured to the crate. "I have more in the truck."
Walt's eyes sparked, and he turned excitedly, scooping up the crate. "I didn't know it had arrived yet. Get the other crate and bring it to Quickform 12. Be fast." He gestured toward the other edge of the settlement and then strode in that direction.
Sol took another deep breath to steady himself, then fetched the other crate from his truck.
In Quickform 12, three Rangers were sorting through the instructions and the small vials of clear orange liquid. Walt looked up as Sol came in. "You got some time to help?" he asked.
Sol nodded. "All right. Go outside. Find Syd. He's a Ranger, a short guy. Tell him you're there to help. He'll send some people with you. Bring them here. We've got to do this fast."
Sol took off to find the Ranger, keeping an eye out for the kid he'd found on the road. He hoped she wasn't in the big tent at the other end o
f the village.
The sun was setting as Sol leaned against the table in the dining hut and shoveled rice and beans into his mouth. Syd had sent him over here as the last of the medicine was distributed to the Stracahn. It appeared to be working, easing the symptoms of the allergies and preventing the anaphylactic shock which had killed so many over the last few days.
"Hey, kid. Great job today," Walt slid his plate onto the table across from Sol and sat down slowly. "We're lucky you showed up."
Sol smiled, his mouth full.
"What's your name, kid?"
He swallowed. "I'm Sol."
Walt took a gargantuan bite of his dinner. "Where do you live?"
"South Edge. Down by the lakes."
"You in school?"
"Yeah. I'll be done this year, though."
Walt couldn't help but calculate that he was around half the age their boy would have been. "You know what you want to do?"
Sol shook his head. "Not yet. I'm kind of interested in engineering. Maybe government. I don't know."
Walt smiled. "You ever thought about being a Ranger?"
Sol tensed. "No, sir."
"You'd make a good one."
"No offense, Walt, but I don't think so. I like people."
Walt winced, Sol figured that was mostly because it was true.
"Fair enough,” the old man said, and Sol realized, with a little amazement, that he wasn’t afraid of this Ranger.
Sol changed the subject. "Hey, how's that little girl?"
Walt's eyes clouded. "I don't know. I can't seem to find her. This is her village, but since everything’s in chaos with this sickness, I can't figure out who she was or where she might be."
Just then, Sol glanced up at several men and women who were walking into the hut. They wore shining fabric wrapped around their iridescent bodies. In the dim hut, the effect was disorienting. "Wow. Are those the Avowed?"
Walt glanced at them. “Yes,” he said. “In fact, the one in the green robes is Meir. He’s the First Avowed, the top guy.” He pushed his plate away and stood. “C’mon. I’ll introduce you.”
Sol followed him over. As they arrived, one of the women was asking the First Avowed a question.
“This sickness was completely unexpected. We cannot be surprised like that again. Vanquis, was there no warning from the Allbeings?”
Meir shook his head. “I have tried connecting with them for some time. I fear,” he lowered his voice, “that the loss of the Mubareth Ola’an may mean that the whole of our connection to the wisdom of the Allbeings is lost.”
Sol realized that they were speaking in the human language so that the Stracahn around them were less likely to hear, and that he and the Ranger probably shouldn’t be listening either.
Suddenly, Walt leaned down and hissed in Sol’s ear: "Those are the Avowed that I sent the little girl with." He gestured to two men on the far side of the circle. Walt cleared his throat.
"Excuse me," Walt called to the man dressed in blue. The Avowed turned, their hoods swiveling with the motion. Walt went on speaking to the Avowed that he had recognized, "A few nights ago I sent a little girl with you. Her parents were sick."
The Avowed nodded.
"I was just wondering if they got better."
There was sorrow in the Stracahn’s eyes, though his expression didn’t change. "No. The child lost both her parents."
Pain knifed through Sol's gut. He remembered the moment in the back pasture when he’d lost his dad. "Is the little girl okay?" he blurted.
The man in the hood looked somber. "She ran out of the Trisne Rooth. I was just asking about her this morning, and it seems that no one in the village has seen her since the morning her mother died."
Walt's voice was sharp. "When was that?"
"Two days ago," was the reply.
Sol grasped Walt’s arm, panic overtaking him, "We've got to find her."
Walt's eyes were narrow as he left the group of Avowed and strode out of the hut. He pulled out his radio.
The Rangers came out en masse. Sol watched them fanning out over Hayden Valley, looking for signs of the little girl. His phone buzzed, and he glanced at it. Mezina's pretty face smiled back at him.
"Hey." He answered.
"Did you plan on calling me at all?" Her voice was half angry, half alluring.
"Look, Mez, I'm sorry. I was going to, but it's been a crazy day. I'm still in the park."
She sucked in her breath, "Are you kidding me? Didn't you hear that there is some kind of plague in there? Get out of the park!"
"It's okay. It's not a danger to humans. It's an allergy."
"Sure. That's what they want you to think!"
"Mezina, I'm really busy. Do you remember that little girl? She's lost, and I have to go help look for her."
"That little girl from the other night?"
"Yeah. She ran off. Will you call my mom and tell her I'll be late?"
Mezina laughed. "Sure. You don't think I'll get yelled at?"
"Just don't talk to my uncle. Tell my mom. She won't yell. And Mez,” he heard a desperate tone in his voice, "do you mind telling her I’m at your place?”
There was a long silence. “Sol, does she know you’re working in the park?”
He felt guilty saying it out loud. “No. But I’m going to tell her. Soon.”
“Whew.” She sighed. “That’s big. Okay. I won’t tell her. But I’m going to have to think of a way for you to pay me back for covering for you.”
He had no doubt she would come up with something. He heard her sigh. "So, no drive tonight?"
"I guess not tonight. I'll call you if we find her, though."
Sol hung up and stood for a moment looking out over the grassland. He picked a direction and started walking.
They didn’t find her that day, or that night. Sol skipped school the next day to go back into the park and join the search. He almost didn’t care if his mom found out. This was where he was supposed to be. The search had become more organized, and the Ranger coordinating the search assigned Sol to help look for the child in the woods by the Fishing Bridge.
He'd been at it for hours and was more than a mile into the thick forest when he realized he was completely alone. It was late, and the golden summer sun had disappeared behind the tall pines. The woods were dark. Though he didn’t want to, Sol was going to have to start making his way home.
"Zyn'dri!" Sol called, "Zyn'dri!" He was squeezing between two big trees, and he felt the bark catch his arm and scrape the skin painfully. He kept going.
His light glanced off a tall stone arch, and Sol stopped to peer at it. It was beautiful, a natural bridge, unlike anything he had ever seen before. Below it trickled the stream that had carved it. Sol listened to the sound of the water and turned back toward the forest, his light streaking over the even rows made by the trunks of the pines.
Where could the kid be? Shining his light around the dark forest, he saw a thousand places that could conceal a child so small. And there was something else, too. A presence that seemed to be watching from the darkness. Maybe it was his imagination, but he was used to the Liberty woods, and he knew when a big predator was on the prowl nearby. Even though he couldn't see beyond the beam of his light, he had heard the eerie stilling of birdcalls and the scurrying of smaller bush animals when something came stalking. There was a new edge of panic in his voice as he called the child’s name again.
A thick sound, like a heavy tree branch falling, made him swing his light sideways. In the underbrush, he saw the pointed ears and delicate white muzzle of a mountain lion, newly landed from atop the natural stone bridge that rose above him.
She walked forward slowly, her paws silent on the thick mat of needles. Her mouth opened in a gruesome snarl and Sol saw the length of her teeth. He had seen mountain lions stuffed, had seen them caged, but had never seen one in the wild. Statistics about the abundance of predators in Yellowstone crowded his mind, but they quieted as the big cat came closer.
Suddenly, the overwhelming stench of carrion assaulted him. Sol looked sideways to see a half-rotted mule deer carcass.
So that's what she was after. He was just between her and her kill. Sol angled off away from the carcass as the cougar jumped lightly over the stream and continued forward. As she advanced, it became apparent she would have to choose between stalking him and working on her kill. Her long tail switched fluidly back and forth. He could almost see her contemplating the two options.
Finally, she turned and began to gnaw at the jutting leg bone of the deer. Sol breathed a sigh of relief and used the distraction to get away from her. He headed back to the road. For the first time, the truth of the situation settled over him, and he realized how unlikely it was that the child was still alive.
17
It was early the next morning when Walt walked into his apartment. He found his way to the bedroom and watched Sylvia sleeping. She looked pale and rumpled and so vulnerable that Walt couldn't stand to see her. He undressed, sitting for a long time on the edge of the bed thinking of the Stracahn child and of the one they'd lost so long ago. It had turned them inside out; pain like he'd never known before or since. He thought, for a time, that he'd lose Sylvia too.
And now he was losing her. Even as she slept, her cells were mutating. The doctors didn't give projections on time anymore, just said to "enjoy life" and "spend time doing what you love."
Stretching beside her on the bed, Walt felt tears slip out of the corners of his eyes.
She rolled over and pulled him close to her, wrapping her arms around him. "Any word on the little girl?" she asked. He shook his head and turned to take her in his arms.