by Nirina Stone
So what changed? Now that Petra’s gone, she thinks, shouldn’t these things just get back to slinking around looking for rodents? Or maybe there weren’t any rodents left—and something’s making them hunt humans?
All this runs through Sidney’s head as she watches the cats, realizing they’re all exactly the same. They were all built with a similar metal alloy as Petra, from the metals mined from the planet. On the outside, they resemble big jungle tigers on Earth, as Nayne said. All orange with black stripes, white on their bellies and faces, and green eyes, each eye larger than Sidney’s head. It’s unnerving to watch over a dozen of them silently studying her from the ground.
She wonders if they’d all pounce at her at once if she fell, or if they’d take turns taking a bite out of her for whatever reason. It’s not like they need any sort of nourishment out here—all they need is sunlight. She rolls her shoulders, fighting the shivers on her spine. Can they smell fear?
Then one cat, as if on cue, strides up to the left side of the tree she’s in and looks up at her as it gingerly paws the tree.
Oh no. She holds her breath when the trunk moves ever so slightly down. Oh no.
It sits back again, then, stretches its front paws out until they’re both on the trunk. Sidney’s eyes widen as her heart trots in panic. It can’t seriously be doing this.
The cat leans forward on its front paws and the trunk sways down. Gravity, as if belatedly realizing its one job, pulls Sidney to the other side of the tree as the cat brings its paws back to the ground again and watches her.
She’s hanging just a few feet from the ground, realizing how precarious it is, but frozen in place unable to move as another cat walks around to the side she’s on. Her head whips back and forth, from the cat to the meadow, and the larger tree that she knows might be her only chance of surviving this. Her tree slowly moves back upright, but she knows it will only take a couple more nudges from that one cat for it to bend all the way down, or even crack into two thanks to her dead weight. She has two options—wait out the two to five minutes it would take for the cat to succeed, or jump now and run; take her chances. Chances that will get her eaten, but the odds of that are not in her favor no matter how she spins it.
So, before she can change her mind, Sidney leaps.
Chapter Twenty One
Henry
AS HE WATCHES SIDNEY throw herself from the top of the tree, Henry throws his left arm up in the air. “No, kid, what are you—?”
She’s nuts, he decides. Solitary life in this dome has made her lose her mind—but then he remembers she’s fast too, as she uses the head of one of the cats to launch herself even further and shoots across the small meadow, grappling up the side of a larger tree across, just as the other cats come to their robotic senses and saunter after her.
Saunter’s the best word as not one of them breaks into a run. Luckily, Henry thinks. If any of them ran, she’d be a goner.
She’s already halfway up the tree’s trunk before the first cats get to her, but she’s surrounded. At least she won’t be pushed out of this one though, he thinks prematurely.
One of the orange animals crouches down so low, it’s nearly flat to the ground. Then it jumps, catching the bottom of Sidney’s left foot in its jaw. The virtual screen doesn’t emit sound, but the way Sidney pulls her head back and yells into the air tells Henry all he needs to know. His right shoulder smarts where the cat bit him and his left hand automatically rubs the spot. Poor kid.
Sidney holds on tight to a branch she’s managed to grasp and—still wailing—she slams her other foot into the cat’s big face, over and over again, though Henry can see each kick brings another jolt of pain to her. He doesn’t want to watch her suffer, doesn’t want to see her fall, but her hands on the tree slip slightly and he knows it’s inevitable. He’s never felt more useless in his life as he watches from afar, knowing that any second now, the kid will be mauled to death. Only one of those cats will do the job just fine, but over a dozen—?
“Come on, Gideon,” Henry mutters. “Come on, come on. Where the hell are you, mate?”
Sidney’s right hand falls away from the branch of the tree and Henry can almost hear her scream as she fights to find something, anything else to hold on to. She doesn’t deserve this, he thinks. She can’t just die like this. When she does fall though, because he can see it’s only a matter of seconds now, he hopes her neck or back break. That will make her death quick, so she doesn’t witness herself get eaten. That has got to be far worse, he reckons.
When Sidney’s head perks to the left as she struggles to gain leverage, he knows it’s Gideon even before the man’s shock of white hair shows up on the screen.
Henry argued with Gideon that he should be the one to go, but before he could fight his aching legs to stand, Gideon was already waving at him from inside the closing lift doors. He’d had his traveling disc in one hand, and his walking stick rifle weapon in the other.
Now, on the virtual screen, Gideon jumps off his disc and aims his weapon at the cat hanging off Sidney’s shoe. He shoots, and the animal freezes, its paws slunk. Whatever mechanics it has in its jaw don’t loosen. Instead, it hangs off Sidney and the extra weight makes her situation look worse.
Still, Gideon can’t get to her quite yet. He takes out another cat, then another and another, until all but three are slumped to the ground.
The other three, as if in contact with each other triangulate around Gideon and crouch. He takes the two in front of him out, but doesn’t turn in time and the third one’s already on him, its jaws wrapped around his rifle-arm, which now drops the weapon to the ground, useless.
Chapter Twenty Two
Sidney
HER ANKLE THROBS AS she tries to kick off the shoe that the bot’s attached to. Gideon’s weapon managed to stop it from snapping off her entire foot, luckily, but its teeth nearly made it to the bone. Still, she’s a good twenty feet off the ground. Jumping from this height will mean a broken bone or two and she can’t afford to break anything as important as legs—not when she’ll still need to run. It takes her a moment to wonder what exactly Gideon’s weapon shoots. It makes surprisingly little sound for something potent enough to bring down bots.
When he drops it and wrestles with the last remaining cat as it tries to eat his arm, she’s finally prompted to jump, come what may. Luckily, the bot crashes to the ground first, its jaw dislodged from Sidney’s foot—somehow her shoe’s still stuck inside its gaping mouth. Unluckily, she hears a crack as her body comes tumbling down on top of the animal. The searing pain shoots up her leg, and she screams, loud enough for the other cat to pause and turn its head to her. It releases Gideon’s bloody arm and eyes her like she’s a far tastier treat. In reality, its look is flat as all the cats’ features were, but she imagines that it thinks of her as a snack, as it turns its body away from Gideon and makes its way to her. Great, she thinks. Now I can’t even try to pull myself up that tree again, not with a broken leg. Gideon sees what’s happened and crawls as fast as his last remaining limbs will let him, to the rifle he’d dropped.
Even from this distance, she can see the tremor in his shoulders as he positions the weapon on his left shoulder. He looks unsure, in pain, yet determined. He flattens himself to the ground just as the cat reaches her, and she can’t see Gideon any more just as the cat’s massive head overshadows her. It opens its mouth wide right in front of her face. She doesn’t want to see this, she decides. I love you Nayne, I love you Petra. She closes her eyes as the bot encloses her head in its jaw.
Chapter Twenty Three
Henry
“OH NO,” HE MURMURS, the moment the cat’s large mass hides Sidney from his view. His eyes burn as he leans forward, bringing his hands up to his face. His chest constricts as the horror unfolds. “Oh no, oh no, oh no.”
Gideon’s flat on the ground several feet away, but Henry can’t tell if he’s fired his weapon or not. Gideon can’t use his injured arm, so there’s no guarantee he’ll
even hit the thing. The cat’s back faces Henry and he can’t see if it’s still or munching away, it’s hard to tell from this angle. He raises his arm to pinch the image and zoom in, but shifting the image to a different angle only shows him more of the cat’s back.
“Damnit, Sidney,” he sighs as he leans back, his eyes still on Gideon, who hasn’t moved an inch since he flattened himself. What the heck is going on?
Finally, Gideon drops the weapon and raises himself, slower than anyone has ever moved in the history of ever, to his feet.
He walks up to the cat, slowly, as if to make sure the thing doesn’t hear him, then he leans down beside it, looking past its head.
He turns back around again, drops to his knees and holds his head in his hands, his shoulders heaving so much, Henry imagines the most gruesome scene possible.
“Dammit,” he says again as tears form in his eyes. “Dammit.”
When Gideon turns around again, clearly hearing a noise from within the cat’s mouth, Henry leans forward and narrows his eyes as he wipes the tears away. Gideon kneels, then kicks at the cat’s side until it falls, unmoving to its right side.
He stands again and throws a laughing Sidney up into the air, then holds her close in his arms as she holds on to him for dear life.
Henry yells out a loud, “Yes!” He pumps his fist in the air, tears newly forming again, and he watches as they both struggle on to Gideon’s traveling disc, and slowly make their way back his way..
“Uh,” he says. “This kid—seriously.” And he waits patiently for them to come home. Hopefully sooner than later, as he watches more cats from the city converge onto the meadow in the forest they’re now leaving.
Chapter Twenty Four
Sidney
SHE WATCHES HENRY SLEEP, as Gideon unwraps her damaged ankle and tends to her wounds. It’s been two days now since the cats’ attack on the surface, and the three companions are a sight to see, she realizes. As Gideon tuts and places a fresh bandage around her stitches, she fights the guilt bubbling in her chest again as her eyes land on his newly bandaged arm. All of this is her fault, of course. Else they’d probably already be in the Red Dome by now. It would take two days to travel there, Gideon had said. Two days she’d lost because of her stubborn need to go find Petra.
Of course she knows there is no Petra to be found. She remembers the time the twins had trapped her in their basement. Some sort of machine they’d had down there crushed Petra. Before it took her mere moments to come into one piece, only an hour or so. If she was still alive, she’d be back together by now. She’d have probably found Sidney already. As if to convince herself Petra’s really gone, Sidney’s been watching the virtual screen—there is no sign of her. Only the usual bot cleaners on the streets in the city, only the nightly acid rain which Gideon says can be switched off from the Red Dome, and only the cats. Hundreds upon hundreds of them, roaming the streets and forests in the Blue Dome, some that wait on the surface right above them. It’s far too dangerous for them to wait around here for Petra to show. Patience and teeth—that’s what the cats are made of, Sidney decides. Nothing but teeth and patience.
She realizes that Gideon’s stopped his muttering and tutting and is actually addressing her right now. “Sorry,” she says. “What was that?”
“How’s the leg?” he asks, pointing to her other leg, propped up on a cushion in front of her. Luckily she didn’t actually break it, simply got herself a fracture on the shin from when she dropped on the cat.
“Better,” she says. “Itchy.”
“Itchy’s a good sign,” he says, as he leaves her a steaming cup of medicated tea. “The good news is Henry’s completely healed. I’ll be fine to travel with this arm in a sling. You should be right as rain in another couple days. Yeah?”
“I’m so sorry,” she blurts out before he’s done speaking. “I’m sorry I brought this on to you. That cat nearly took your arm off!”
“I told you to stop that, child,” Gideon says for the hundredth time. “There is no longer a need to apologize, okay? Will you just promise me something? Especially when we’re heading out into the Barren.”
“Of course,” Sidney says meekly.
“Just—you know, talk to me first before you decide on another hair-brained adventure like that? The world out there is very different to what you’re used to, Sidney. I know you’re an independent, strong, young lady.”
The words warm her face—they’re the kinds of things Nayne used to say to her, making her embarrassed more than anything. Gideon ignores the obvious effect his words have on her and continues.
“You are,” he says. “You are probably the bravest child I’ve ever met. That said, we’re a team now. We’ll be a team while we’re in the Barren. We need to be able to rely on each other out there. So—promise?”
“Promise,” she says and she automatically brings up her pinky. For a moment, it looks like Gideon will ignore it, then he chuckles. “Ah I remember this,” he says, as he raises his left pinky and wraps it lightly around hers, gives it a quick squeeze and gently lets go. She says, “You shake it you break it,” and he smiles back.
Before he turns, he eyes the large piece of bark she’s laid in front of her. “Is that the note?”
She’s scribbled across the bark with massive letters. “Yes,” she says, “a note for Petra—in case.”
It’s impossible to complete the sentence. She knows Petra’s not coming. Still, a small part of her hopes so the short letter in her terrible spelling is for the “in case”...
Gideon nods. “Don’t you worry. The pinging beacon I set up will be loud enough for her to hear from anywhere within the dome. Not as clear in the city, but it will bring her here.”
He turns to go rummage in his things again, getting even more things ready for their trip.
Henry stretches his arms out with a wide yawn, then blinks and looks around until he sees Sidney watching him. “Hey Renegade,” he greets.
He hasn’t stopped calling her that since she got back from the surface.
She huffs and takes a sip of the hot tea. Whatever Gideon has mixed together to make it helps numb her sores a bit. Even the itchiness goes away for a couple hours.
“How was your sleep?” she asks, wishing she could find sleep as easily as Henry does. Unfortunately, it comes in spurts and bits and if anything, only leaves her in a state of exhaustion.
“Well,” Henry confirms. “I’m ready to take on the Barren, the Red Dome, the world!”
She smirks at him and takes another sip of tea. For the last couple of days now, Henry’s been acting, well—strangely, she decides. Like she’s his most favorite person in the world. Every time she heads out of the room to use the bathroom or something, he almost panics. It’s bizarre, she thinks. Sure, they’re friends, but he’s acting almost the same way Nayne used to act when they’d split up for a couple hours to forage, and Sidney didn’t get back to her on time.
She knows that what happened on the surface was scary, dangerous. Gosh she’d been there! She still can’t tell why it made something shift in him to make him so protective of her.
“Where’s the old man?” he asks as he stands to stretch his legs.
“Getting more stuff together for our journey,” she says.
“What more do we need, for crying out loud?” He heads around the corner to find Gideon, before she can answer the question.
Chapter Twenty Five
Henry
HE’S SPENT THE LAST couple days walking around Gideon’s makeshift compound, realizing it’s even a bigger space than he’d thought. The main living area, where they all sleep in separate cushions is nearly twice as big as Henry’s entire childhood home. The underground compound takes up a good acre of space, as far as he can see. It’s insane, and unheard of in Allenda, and of course, full of illegal things.
Walking around to Gideon’s main study area, Henry finds the old man tapping away at his little Code machine. “Hey,” Henry says and Gideon gives h
im a quick nod, only pausing for a moment before getting back to tapping on the thing again.
“We’re leaving after tomorrow,” Gideon says. “There’s a storm forming on the western plains of the Barren. If it gets this way before we head out, we could be stuck here for another month at least, until it clears.”
“But Sidney’s legs,” Henry says. “And your arm?”
“She’ll be right,” Gideon says as he stops tapping. Before Henry can say more, Gideon shushes him with a quick wave of his arm as the small machine beside him taps a message back.
He nods, taps for a couple more minutes as Henry makes himself comfortable in a chair beside him, then puts the machine away in a drawer.
“Who is it that you’re messaging, anyway?” Henry asks, pointing to where the machine sits.
“I had an old workmate who now lives out there,” Gideon says. “She’s an ally. She gives me a heads up on whether it’s safe to travel to the Red Dome or not. To let me know about storms and whatnot.”
Henry frowns, unsure about relying on yet another person, but if she lives out there instead of in one of the domes, maybe she is indeed an “ally”. Still he says, “Is she trustworthy?”
“Oh no, not at all,” Gideon laughs. “She’s a mercenary.” The word stiffens Henry’s shoulders. “Long as we have something—decent—to trade, she’s on our side. Until something more worthwhile comes along. In that way, yes, I find her trustworthy.”
Henry’s not so sure that’s a good recommendation.
“It’s the ‘whatnot’ I’m worried about,” Henry says as his head tilts towards the main living area. “In case you haven’t noticed, the kid’s a restless type.”