There were other things in the village, too, though they were never given any attention. At the centre was something called a “well”, which apparently had been used to draw water up from the ground a long time ago. Nowadays water either came from the sky, the creatures you killed, or from the lake south of the village, though the latter was hard to get to and you risked becoming infected with something else if you drank from it.
There was also the tall metal pole at the eastern side of the village that intrigued Cora. It had a metal loop at the top and a square base at the bottom, rooting it to the ground. No one knew what it was for. Some villagers speculated that it was a whipping post for criminals and others said it was a sun tracker to tell the time of day by its shadow. Cora didn’t believe either theory. Children used it as a fun toy. They grabbed hold of the pole and spun themselves around in circles until they collapsed from dizziness, which was basically the only thing children had to amuse themselves with in the village.
Cora knew there were other places out there, cities that were more advanced than her little, dusty village, and they probably even had medicine, something Cora had only ever heard whispered by the traders. Medicine was no good against The Death Mark, of course, but there were other troublesome things out there to worry about, too.
The three made their way out of town and into the wilderness. Almost instantly after passing the village’s damaged fences, Shyla’s fingers wrapped around Cora’s arm.
‘I can’t see anything out here,’ she said nervously.
The moon was hiding behind the giant sky kingdom, letting the mutants know that even if the Utopians were not visible, they were still hindering them.
Lyle had an easier time than Shyla. He could not see in the dark, but his hearing was much clearer than the others. He followed the sound of Cora’s feet through the darkness and – when they grew closer to the nest – listened to the sound of the burrowers to guide the group the rest of the way.
They gathered the firewood on their journey to the nest, stocking in within the curve of their arms. Once they felt they had enough sticks collected, they finished walking the distance to the burrowers’ home. Stealth was essential to their victory. They needed to be quiet enough to not wake the creatures under the ground or the creatures that might be lurking above ground. Cora decided it was best for her to block the tunnels full of sticks (since she was the only one who could see well enough to do so), while Shyla handled the lighting of the fire. Once step one was done, Cora and Lyle waited for Shyla to proceed.
Cora watched closely as the other girl pulled the box out of her pocket and opened it once again. She pulled out a single stick and swiped it against the side of the box. At first Cora only saw a few sparks, but then Shyla gave the stick a stronger swish and the tip of the stick was engulfed in a beautiful red flame. Cora stared at it for a few seconds, amazed by the instant fire. Then Shyla covered the flame with her hand to hide it from the eyes of predators and began to light the wood blocking the tunnels.
Perfect, thought Cora, as she watched Shyla work. The smoke will drive the burrowers towards the last tunnel, and then …
Lyle was patiently waiting by the last exit, his ears low to the ground.
And then we will strike.
‘They’re coming,’ whispered Lyle.
The other two joined Lyle by the single tunnel. Shyla positioned herself in the middle to act as a shield. Lyle took the right side, and Cora the left. Whatever way the burrowers planned on running, they would stop and kill them.
Out of the tunnel ran the first three. They were furless with long, curved claws and black eyes. Their tails were usually tucked under their bellies but now they were swishing back and forth while the creatures ran. Cora swung her club, allowing the sharp spikes to dig clean into the neck of a burrower. It stopped, instantly dead, and she braced a foot against its dead body to give herself leverage to pluck the weapon out. She saw another creatures approach, zigzagging from side to side in an attempt to escape, but that one fell to her bludgeon, as well.
Shyla could not see very well in the dim light, but she managed to guide the burrowers either left or right to their death. Lyle had no weapon but he broke the burrowers’ necks whenever they grew too close to him.
Soon they had a dozen dead burrowers before them. They waited a little longer but no more came from the tunnels, which meant they had either chose to stay inside, had died from inhaling smoke, or had escaped between the hunters’ legs. Cora counted their hunting trip as a victory. No one would go hunger tonight, and what they didn’t eat or store for later could be used to trade for supplies. Cora remembered that her blanket was getting a little tattered and thought about trading one of the burrowers for a nice quilt. She had not owned a quilt in quite a few years and the summer was almost over.
‘We did it!’ exclaimed Shyla, clapping, and both Cora and Lyle shushed her. Her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘Sorry, I mean, we did –’
The mutant girl was interrupted by a bright flash in the sky. The three hunters jumped in surprise and collected their kills before hiding behind the nearest rock. Cora looked around the massive stone to gaze at where the light came from. Please not Utopian ships, she thought warily, remembering the last time the soldiers came. They had strange vehicles made of metal that flew through the air using fire. Long ago, when Cora had listened to the elderly of the village tell stories of the old days, she had believed flying ships to be silly tales. It was only after a raid that she truly realized how real the Utopian aircrafts were.
Yet it was not a ship that the three hunters saw in the sky. It was a light that came from Utopia itself. A blast of fire had been set off underneath the floating city, and now half of the bottom was aflame. Cora’s heart was beating fiercely in her chest. What was going on above?
‘Is it … burning?’ whispered Lyle.
‘Yes,’ said Cora softly, leaning further around the rock to see. ‘The base is on fire. Has it ever done that before?’
Hair brushed Cora’s shoulder and she could only assume that Shyla was shaking her head, too terrified to speak. And it was terrifying. Utopia was a fortress in the sky. It was impenetrable. It had no weaknesses. If it fell from the sky … it would destroy the entire village and perhaps even villages miles away.
Then again, if it fell, there would be no more raids. No more Utopians. No more Utopia.
Cora felt strange thinking these things. Everyone on Earth hated Utopia, but everyone also secretly wished to become a part of it. There was not a single person infected by the sickness that did not wish to have been born a Utopian and live in the sky like kings or queens.
Even Cora felt that way sometimes. She was half-Utopian, though she was as far from being Utopian as she could possibly get. Once the sickness told hold, you became a mutant. Her father simply became exposed to the air and they branded him a mutant. Mutants lived on Earth and Utopians lived in the floating city. That was all there was to it.
‘Do you think it’ll fall?’ asked Lyle, perhaps thinking along the same lines as Cora.
‘No,’ she replied, finally standing up and moving from her hiding place. ‘It’ll never fall.’
Both Lyle and Shyla looked discouraged by this, though Cora knew it wouldn’t last. They’ll go back to pretending Utopia didn’t exist before too long, until the raiders came again. Then they’ll spit and curse on Utopians for a week, as usual.
‘Let’s get back,’ said Cora, grabbing four burrowers.
The others agreed and soon they were on their way back home, hauling their kills with them. It was still dark when they returned, which was good because some people often felt the need to intimidate the younger citizens when they were carrying good stuff. Cora had her barbed club with her, though, and she wouldn’t let anyone take their profits. They had made a good haul and would gain much from it.
All three agreed that they would go to Shyla’s home to cook up the meat. The mutant girl lived at the far corner of the village, behind the ancien
t stone wall and inside a house of metal. It was outside the village’s fence and so no one wanted to live there. Shyla, being braver than most, decided to take the house after her parents died (no one lived to be very old anymore), before the tyrants of the town came snooping around for a new place to loot and steal for their own usage. They found nothing there except scraps of old clothing, too full of holes to wear, and the bones of the previous night’s supper.
You had to climb over the stone wall to get the metal house. There were no doors or windows on the lower level, just a strangely-shaped hole somewhere near the top. Lyle climbed the wall with ease and the girls passed the burrowers up to him. He took the dead creatures and tossed them into the house before offering a hand down to help. Shyla usually left a rope lying around with a hook attached to the end, but when Lyle was with her, he acted as a way up to the house.
After Cora was helped up, she placed her weapon against the outside wall and ducked through the hole to enter the building. It was always dark inside and cold, as well. Cora saw that nothing had changed since the last time she visited. The fire pit was still at the centre of the room, the pile of blankets where Shyla slept was against the wall, and the long, rectangular white thing where Shyla stored objects and food was along the other wall, half blackened like the rest of the house.
And then there were the pictures on the wall above her bed, the drawings with the funny shapes underneath. Shyla said they were written words that could be read, a skill lost to them. The drawings were strange, showing colourful bursts in the sky with people running underneath, smiles on their faces.
When Cora first met Shyla, the other girl had showed her these pictures, asking what she thought of them. Cora had not known what to say back then and she certainly didn’t know what to say now. The sky was only two colours: grey and black. Colour did not exist in their world, even if it had back then. Even the eyes of mutants were dull and washed-out, unlike the eyes Cora once saw in the mirror, the eyes of a half-Utopian girl.
They look so happy, Shyla had said. Do you think we could ever be happy like them?
Cora had badly wanted to say “no” but that would have destroyed her friend’s hope. Instead she had answered “yes” and went along with Shyla’s hopes of having a better future. She doubted the other girl felt the same way about the world any longer. It was as bleak as it was back then, and would continue to stay that way until the end of civilization.
‘No.’ Lyle’s voice interrupted Cora’s train of thoughts and she looked across the room to see Lyle’s hand covering Shyla’s. ‘You have to save those, remember? Who knows when you’ll find more.’
‘But this is a special occasion!’ Shyla looked downcast.
‘Let her use them.’ Cora sat cross-legged in front of the cold fire pit and caught Lyle’s disapproving look before he remembered that she could see in the dark. She laughed and he snarled at her.
‘Fine,’ he snapped, falling to the floor. ‘Let’s just use all the fire sticks in the one night!’
‘It’s her find, not yours,’ said Cora, irritated. ‘She can do what she wants with them.’
Lyle said nothing back, but Cora could tell that he was still angry about it. Shyla looked as though she wasn’t sure if she should light a stick or not, but eventually she decided to follow Cora’s advice and brought flames to the fire pit. Although Lyle was only being smart about conserving materials, Cora knew Shyla wasn’t one for living life without excitement. She was a girl who needed hope and light and colour. New things brought light into her eyes, and without a bit of hope she became discouraged. It was hard enough finding something to be happy about on this Earth as it was, and to take away someone’s only desires was just cruel.
They fetched some knives out of the storage container and started cutting the claws off the burrowers. They had no fur so they didn’t need to be skinned, though their claws and heads had to be removed. The heads were left away from the house at night to keep the rodents and eight-legged creatures from coming in while they slept, and the claws were valuable materials.
Cora stuck one burrower on the end of a stick and held it over the flames of the fire pit to start roasting. The smell was intoxicating and made her mouth water. Lizard-birds were one thing, but burrowers – fully covered in juicy meat – was another. It had been a while since she had something this fat to eat.
All things considered, it was a peaceful day so far. The hunt went smoothly, the sharp-tooths stayed away, and now they were sitting around a fire cooking meat. Cora still had to visit the traders and return home to fix up her defenses, but she doubted to find any danger in those tasks.
‘What was the nastiest thing you’ve ever had to eat?’ asked Shyla suddenly. She twisted the stick in her hands, allowing the underside of the burrower to touch the fire.
‘A shell bug,’ said Lyle, after some consideration. He stuck out his tongue. ‘Most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen, too.’
‘That is nasty,’ agreed Cora, smiling. ‘Though, I bet it can’t beat lizard-bird eggs.’
Shyla twisted up her face in disgust and Lyle did the same. They both agreed. ‘Your turn.’
Cora thought for a second. ‘The strangest mutant you’ve ever seen.’
This question was a favourite that they liked to ask over the years, though they always agreed on the Utopians’ funny suits as being “mutants”.
‘The best deal you’ve ever made down at the traders,’ said Lyle, taking a bite out of his roasted burrower.
‘One quick-claw for a jacket and a knife,’ said Cora quickly, beating Shyla, who scowled but then smirked, as she had something better in mind.
‘A sharp-tooth’s fang for a pair of boots and a rain protector,’ she said smugly.
Lyle glanced her way in disbelief. ‘How exactly did you kill a sharp-tooth?’
‘And how did you pluck out its tooth?’ chimed in Cora.
‘Well, I never said I killed it.’ Shyla giggled and wiped juice from the meat off her face. ‘I have another one. What’s the scariest memory you have?’
Cora paused to think upon that one. There was the one time where she had been spotted by a sharp-tooth while hunting. That had been terrifying, though the creature had decided not to chase her. She probably wouldn’t be sitting around the fire roasting burrowers if she had been chased.
‘The day the raiders took my mother,’ said Lyle quietly.
The room became very quiet and Shyla bit her lip, knowing once again she had said something out of line. All of them remembered that day. Perhaps not as clearly as Lyle did, but clear enough to know it had been horrible. Various villagers had been taken off to the floating city. Usually the Utopians just killed them on the spot. It was their “cure” for civilization. But this time they rounded up a few mutants who seemed “different” than the others and loaded them onto their flying ships. Lyle’s mother had quick-claw blood and so of course they wanted her. It was only because of her Lyle was not taken, as she had told him to hide in the basement of their home.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Shyla softly, touching his shoulder.
Cora suddenly knew the traders and repairs would have to wait tonight. She would be staying here, because tonight her friends needed her. The pictures on the wall stood out amongst the red of the flames, and Cora found herself wondering the same things as Shyla. Can we ever be happy? Is that even possible? With so much pain and death … can it actually become a reality someday?
Maybe she would never find happiness within the bleak world, and maybe the three of them would be stuck in the shadow of a greater civilization for the rest of their lives. But that had each other, at least, and that was what really mattered. Strength came in numbers, and three was a pretty strong number, or so Cora thought.
Thoughts of going to the traders left the minds of the others and soon they were asleep on the floor of the house, breathing softly. Cora rose from her spot and ventured outside through the hole. From the top of the wall she could see a great deal of the v
illage – even some of her statue in the distance. It was not a large place, or even a very nice place considering what she heard about towns farther west and north, but it was her home. Occasionally she thought about setting out to find a better place to live, but the fear of running into a pack of quick-claws or sharp-tooths caused her to crawl back into her hole of a home.
Cora looked upwards towards the floating city. The base was now spouting out its normal display of fire without the dancing flames she had seen before. Something must have gone terribly wrong up there. Utopia had encountered some sort of problem that made the fire go out of control. Cora knew nothing of how things were powered, like the flying ships the raiders used, but she knew they were delicate objects and – like all delicate things – they broke easily when handled the wrong way.
She imagined what it looked like on the inside, what sort of luxuries the Utopians had. Surely they had the riches talked about in stories spun by the traders, pieces of land dedicated to raising animals for meat, rooms that produced water and fires that started at the push of a button. Fire sticks were great, but the kinds of tools possessed by the Utopians were obviously much better.
Give me one day up there, thought Cora. Just one day. Let me feel what they feel: comfort, security, happiness. She didn’t know who she was talking to when she asked these things. Lyle once said that a bigger power existed somewhere out there, and the Utopians worshipped it. If there was really a bigger power out there, it would have crushed Utopia by now and saved Earth from The Death Mark.
Then again, could they really be saved any longer? The awful thought that Cora’s village was the last one left and the traders were spinning lies about other cities existing sometimes traveled across her mind. Why else would the raiders come to the village so often … unless they were too afraid to go any farther?
The Mutants Page 2