by Noah Porter
“I suppose so,” says Ben finally. “I don’t know.”
“So newcomers to the village.. those we take in out of our generosity… could potentially have it and we wouldn’t know until it’s too late?” ask the elder.
Before I can gasp at the conclusions they’re drawing (which are actually quite logical, if you think about it), Kilo, Ociri, and some other brawny men are holding knives to my groups’ throat, including me.
I look helplessly at Ben, knowing to tell him that we’re immune as superhumans is not a good idea (they might not believe us, or worse, they will believe us and won’t let us leave the village because they need protectors) and to not tell them means confinement or death.
The elder says regretfully, “We can’t risk spreading of a plague. It’s nothing personal. Men, take them to the Ricomuz. At dawn tomorrow, the tigers will have a feast.”
I can’t stop myself from gasping. “That-- might-- give them a taste--- for human blood--” I say, even as my captor presses the knife against my throat harder.
“Arcya, is this possible?” asks the elder.
Arcya seems to be fighting with herself before answering, “Maybe. Most likely not, provided I talk to them first and tell them what these people might do to our village.”
The elder nods. “Do that.”
Before I can utter a word of complaint, I’m being carried away to the Ricomuz and all I can think about is how I considered Arcya my friend. Imprisonment. It’s dull all right, but it’s better than death.
Of course, in the case of a few, very, very unfortunate people, you are sentenced to both. Being one of the unluckiest people in the world (you know, surviving the apocalypse and all the natural disasters only to become tiger chow-chow because of something that you know you’re not to blame for is REALLY unlucky), I have both.
After I was carried off to the Ricomuz, I sat there, running various escape ideas through my head. (I’d have said them to my friends, but there was Ociri watching our every move.) Each idea was more preposterous than the last.
I could learn to speak tiger and explain the situation. (You can’t learn a language literally overnight… plus Arcya would talk to them and find out everything anyways, so that wouldn’t work.)
I could try to swim up the waterfall. (I’ll be way too tired, with not enough strength to do that. Plus then I’d probably be recaptured at the top, and the next time they try to execute me, they’ll block the waterfall.)
I could talk all about the superhuman thing in front of Ociri. When he runs off to go tell people, I escape with my friends. (Slightly more plausible, but he’s most likely too smart than to leave prisoners alone, plus he might scoff at it and think it’s a lie. Hmm… or is he too smart to leave prisoners alone? Ooh. Maybe if he thought the ‘lie’ was funny, he’d run off anyways to tell his friends and we’d escape. Wait. I have nothing to break the metal bonds around me, and unfortunately, superhumans can’t break through metal with their bare hands. I already tried. Drat it.)
I’m still running more ideas through my head and ruminating over each of them when the door opens and in comes Arcya.
“I’m here to relieve you of duty,” says Arcya with an authoritative tone in her voice.
“Elder Manoiv told me to move for no one.”
Arcya looks at him, shocked. “But Elder Manoiv was the one who told me to come take your spot!”
Ociri looks slightly suspicious. “Are you sure?”
“Do you really think I’d lie to you?”
He looks at her for a second, knowing that he’s in no place to question her.
“Uhhmm.. I’d better not answer that. All right, I’ll go. But if they escape, it’s your head on the line, not mine.”
She nods, accepting the key he hands her, which must be to our bonds. I’m debating on the best way to coerce her to release us when she begins undoing each of our bonds.
“You don’t have much time. Ociri is a really fast runner, and as soon as he finds Elder Manoiv, my deception will be revealed,” she says, handing me a key.
I begin unlocking Lily’s bonds, because however confused I am, even I know not to waste time arguing.
“But, why?” I ask. “Why release us if it’s your head on the line?”
She laughs at this, unlocking Ben’s bonds and watching as we all stand up.
“Elder Manoiv is my grandfather. Do you really think he’d kill me? Besides, he just wanted to be rid of you. As long as I assure him that you’re gone, I’ll be fine.”
“But still. Why release us at all? You either hate me or somewhat like me, and even Aberle, who I know has a really awful crush on Ben, didn’t try to free us.” I say this with a matter-of-fact tone of voice.
Arcya grimly smiles. “Aberle’s a rule-follower. Me? Not so much. Besides, all the boys in the village fall lovesick at her feet at some point or another. She’ll be heartbroken for a few days and get over it.”
Ben feebly says (with ears tinged red from embarrassment), “She doesn’t like me.”
I ignore him, but everyone else says in sync, “Yes, she does.”
“Come on, we don’t have much time,” says Arcya, opening the door and ushering us out. “Go that direction-” she points to the right- “and after walking for a few days time, you’ll be out of the jungle. Food is in this bag I gave to Ben, and there are water sources marked on the map I gave you, which is in that bag.”
“How do you know we don’t have a plague?” I say.
She looks at me with a half-smile again. “Well, let me just tell you one minor detail. I was captured as a child, so I was on Tieryl City too.”
Right on cue, Ben, Lily, Aria and I gasp.
“There was a girl with scars like yours who had superhuman abilities. I knew you were one from the start. Your speed at learning things, agility, and natural ability to climb trees? Even Ociri couldn’t outrun you, and I’d be extremely hard pressed to climb a tree faster than you. I assumed your friends were the same after you and Ben won the race. And I have some sort of strange feeling that superhumans can’t be affected by the plague or be carriers of the disease.”
I nod, while Ben says blatantly, “The plague happens when the injections also used to make superhumans goes wrong. If you’re already a superhuman, it’s impossible to have or carry the plague.”
Another strangely familiar voice from the trees says, “Well, well, well. Superhumans. And you weren’t away for your health?”
Ociri steps into sight again, and I swear that at the sight of him, all the blood drains from Arcya’s face.
“No wonder we never got a response to the letters we 'sent to you'."
Chapter 9
Arcya begins to move as if to sprint back to camp, but Ociri blocks her. She backs away from him and whispers into my ear, “Run.”
I whisper back, “Not on your life. I’m not leaving you with him.”
She sighs. “Why do you have to be so stubborn?”
“Look who’s talking,” I hiss.
“We wouldn’t want my rebel force to accidentally harm you all,” says Ociri, smirking. He obviously hadn’t heard our whispering, though Ben must have, because he looks torn between laughing and crying at my stubbornness.
Ociri continues, “Plus, these filth known as superhumans might ruin the force’s chances of winning. Without all the young men of the village fighting on the village’s side, they’re helpless.”
“Sarah,” says Arcya bitterly, “this is Ociri, the man who’s wanted to marry me for a year and threatened to force me to the night you were captured.”
I gasp again as the puzzle pieces click together in my mind. “Rebel force?” I say.
“Of course,” he says. “The elders aren’t quite the right fit for our village. And collaborating with the tigers when we used to have such fun chasing them? It’s disgusting. And our food is being wasted on those animals.”
I’m surprised to hear the venom in his voice.
“We lost twenty men to mauli
ng,” pointed out Arcya, growling strangely afterwards. “Plus ‘those animals’, as you so kindly refer to them, make it so we don’t have to protect the village as much.”
She shoots a glance at me, and I’m surprised to hear a voice echo in my thoughts, sounding identical to Arcya’s normal voice.
Keep him talking. I called for help from the tigers. Two are coming to help us, while the rest are going to the village to protect it.
Before I can say another word, the two tigers leap out into the open, snarling at Ociri.
Ociri gasps, turns around, and sprints away like a coward, running for his life. (I suppose he IS a coward anyways.)
As he runs away, he yells, “This is only the beginning! This village is a tiny piece of the war that’s beginning, just a miniscule bit of the master plan! Murlyn will fall, and everything else with it.”
Ociri thinks Murlyn will fall? More importantly, how does he even know what Murlyn is?
Elder Manoiv and the rest of the elders all come out from behind the trees later, after we’ve sat there, stunned, for a few minutes.
“We drove off the young men, with the major help of the tigers. They won’t be coming back,” says Elder Manoiv, who is bleeding a bit on his right arm but otherwise unscathed.
“Suffice to say, you won’t be thrown to the tigers, who, by the way, ran to tell everything to me after they forced away Ociri out of the jungle, which didn’t take very long.”
I look at him, shocked.
He begins to laugh and I notice a twinkling in his eyes. “Arcya isn’t the only one who knows tiger language. My only question is, why didn’t you tell us?”
“I thought you wouldn’t believe me, or if you did, you might force us to stay here and protect the village,” I admit.
Elder Manoiv replies with the ‘duh’ tone of voice I’ve heard Arcya use before, “Of course not. We have the tigers for that, though if you did choose to remain, you would be placed on protecting duty. But Arcya, why didn’t you tell me?”
She shrugs, looking sheepish. “I thought you wouldn’t believe me either, though I know you wouldn’t force them to stay here. Plus, they would be infuriated with me.”
Manoiv nods. “Well, I suppose that can be forgiven,” he says. “Now, go clean off in the river- all of you- and I assume that you want to leave soon, Sarah?”
Nodding, I reply, “Yes, that would be ideal.”
He said, “Well, you can postpone one night. We need to prepare a feast to celebrate.”
I shrug. I guess one night couldn’t really hurt. Everyone else in my group shrugs too, and I know the decision is made.
“Okay,” I say, and we walk back to the village.
Chapter 10
I literally sleep for three hours straight after the fight before the dinner gong wakes me. When I step out of my hut, yawning and rubbing my eyes, I’m hoisted on top of the throngs of cheering villagers.
Grown men with full beards are crying, children are dancing, and women are singing as if we saved them from utter destruction. (Well.. I suppose we did. Yippee for us.. though I suppose it’s the tigers that did most of it.)
Festive decorations are hung from every hut, and I’m finally set down in a seat of honor at an extremely long table which was formerly used for serving food on. Chairs line it up and down, and Ben, Arcya, Aria, Lily and I are all sitting closest to the elders.
The noise stops when Elder Manoiv makes a motion with his hands, and a respectful silence ensues as he begins to speak.
“Friends and family. Today we have been saved from the brink of death by these brave men, women, and tigers. They will leave shortly to return to fight their own battles in the world out there. Arcya, my granddaughter, has requested that I allow her to join them, and I will let both her and her tiger, Cilla, join them and assist them in any way possible. In gratitude to these men and women, I have given them gifts of food, clothing, and weapons, to send them on their way. But for now, let us celebrate, for the rebellion is quenched without a single life lost!”
Everyone cheers and the general hubbub and din begins again as everyone begins eating. Instead of the usual unappetizing mush, there are fruits and other less unappetizing foods. Everyone’s either talking or maintaining a companionable silence.
The festivities last long into the night, with everyone eating and talking and laughing and dancing and generally enjoying themselves.
Arcya comes up to me at one point, after hours of revelry.
“It is okay if I come, right?” she asks, looking at me somewhat anxiously.
“Yes, of course,” I assure her. “We can use any help we get if we’re to stop the plague and the potential war.”
She smiles. “Good.”
“Don’t be offended,” I begin, “but how old are you?”
She begins to laugh hysterically before replying, “Sixteen, just like you, and before you ask, I just guessed. I think you’re older than me, though, because I’m a September 14th birthday.”
I nod, joining her in chuckling as I reply, “I was born on March 17th, and yes, I’m sixteen. But I have a question.”
She looks at me. “It’s about my ability to send thoughts to people, isn’t it?”
I gasp but nod my head slowly.
“Well… when I was on Tieryl City, they did some experiments on me. They wanted to see if they could do it, and if they did, their goal was to make groups of mind-reading, thought-sending superhumans. That’s my guess, anyways. I was almost perfect, but because they did the mind-reading ability first and because they had people they believed to be stronger than me, they experimented on them instead. Most of the experiments had at least one defect.”
She sounds bitter again, then must’ve read my mind because she continues.
“Yes, my voice-throwing is just a natural talent. I really don’t know how I came by it.”
I nod, half in satisfaction and half in sadness. So we’re not the only ones operated on by the people of Tieryl City. We sit there for a few minutes before the celebrations start to die down, due to parents kicking the children to bed and ending up not coming back out.
All of us superhumans (and Arcya, and the elders, and some of the adults) heave and push at the table, eventually getting it back into the hall before taking all the chairs and putting them back in there too.
When I turn to leave, I’m stopped by Elder Manoiv.
“Our village will always support you in times of need,” he says.
I nod. “Thank you, sir.”
“Take good care of my granddaughter,” he continues, gruffly.
“Yes, sir. Wouldn’t dream of not taking good care of her.”
He smiles before letting me go, and I walk back to my hut, thinking over the strangeness of today.
When I finally sit down, I fall asleep quickly, but a dream comes to disturb my sleep.
Matthew, Mariella’s brother, is sitting down in a seat rigidly.
“So, Matthew, I’ve come to offer you a proposition,” says a gray-haired man, unpleasantly smiling.
Matthew sat there, stone-faced.
“You will be honored by all, if only you accept,” he says, trying to get a reaction.
Matthew doesn’t budge an inch.
“You will be general of our armies.” This time, the man is clearly waiting for Matthew to jump up and down in excitement.
“No,” replies Matthew.
The man’s silly smile slips away. “What did you say?”
“You heard me perfectly well, Mr. Thunsgen. I said no,” answers Matthew.
An ugly smile forms on Mr. Thunsgen’s face. “Well, Matthew Dunnen, I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.”
“Don’t I?”
At these words, men burst into the room, armed with guns.
“You’ll be brought to safety, away from the plague.”
Matthew begins to lose his calm at these words. What about Mariella?
“Don’t worry, my boy, you’ll be perfectly safe,” continues Mr
. Thunsgen with a patronizing smile. “That is, if you cooperate.”
I see one of the soldiers change the setting on his gun to stun, and before I can warn the dream-Matthew, he’s shot and drops like a stone, and I can’t even protest when they carry him out of the room.
I follow them, and after only a few minutes, Matthew wakes up again.
With an awful pit in my stomach, I watch the part of the dream that I know from an earlier dream.
The men are trying to force him into the truck.