by Greg Boose
“Things are going to get worse up here. I can feel it. We all can feel it. I’m sure you can feel it, too. All I smell is death here. I’m going to survive all this shit and find my way to Thetis. One way or another.”
Jonah wishes Vespa would stop asking Paul to come along. The guy would prefer it if Jonah were dead; he’d said so. He wouldn’t have Jonah’s back. But what’s really on Jonah’s mind is what Paul could have seen in the jungle that has scared him so much. Paul’s never scared.
“Just stay alive and I swear we’ll see each other in twenty-odd days,” Vespa says. “You promise to send help west if it arrives?”
Paul spits over his shoulder—the glob floats away like a bubble—and tries to smile. “I’ll think about it. You promise to swing by and pick us up on your way to Thetis if it shakes down like that?”
“I’ll think about it,” Vespa says. She then drops a leg over the cycle, revs the throttle, and tears away into a looping circle around her group. At Paul’s feet, a cloud of dust hangs eerily in the air. Jonah can’t help but notice the Fourth Year’s hands are shaking.
“I really hope all that marine layer down there stays put and doesn’t move any further east.” Jonah turns to see Brooklyn in her huge white shirt. Her black hair is no longer in a ponytail, and she scratches the back of her head violently with both hands. “You see the marine layer? That cloud over the water? Hope it settles right where it is. We don’t need that.”
Far beyond the jungle, a thick greenish-gray blanket creeps over the blue sea. The horizon is hazy, and Jonah doesn’t see the island he noticed the day before. “What are we going to do once we get to the water?”
Brooklyn stops scratching and shrugs. “I think we’ll figure it out when we get there. By the time we’re at the beach, with all the nerds we’re traveling with, we should have a couple good plans to work from. I hope so, at least. But we should definitely be able to get to the beach and set up camp by nightfall.”
Jonah keeps looking for the island. “You think that’s possible?”
“Sure. Even if we make twenty-minute miles, there’s no reason we shouldn’t reach the sand by sunset. From what I can tell, we’re about three and three-quarters of a mile away from the water. Those are my calculations.”
“And that’s why you’re a demic, and I’m not.” He cringes before adding, “I mean an academic. Why you’re an academic. Sorry about that.”
“Oh, right. Ha. I was actually just kidding about that before. We don’t mind the nickname. Who cares, you know? I was just giving you guys shit because you were being such jerks. We call you ca-dicks behind your backs, by the way. Or at least I do.”
Jonah tries not to, but he laughs, and the sound hangs over the cliff like a cloud. Dozens of kids, including Paul, eye the two of them. Brooklyn whistles and rocks on the balls of her feet while Jonah composes himself. He likes this girl, and he thinks they could maybe, possibly, be friends. The thought makes him want to walk away. Things don’t go well when he makes friends. They usually get bored of him, or join another crowd and gang up on him. Or they die like Manny. Still, he stays there next to her, enjoying her company.
“So, anyway,” Brooklyn says. “We should hit it before that marine layer stuff comes over the trees and blocks what little sunlight we’ll have.”
“You still think this is a good idea?”
“Man, don’t be such a wuss.”
They walk past Ruth, her long naked toes dangling over the edge of the cliff, an LZR-rifle strapped to her back. The cadet’s pale face is empty, completely devoid of emotions, and it drops to her left every few seconds as if someone speaks to her. To Jonah, it looks like she’s looking for Daniel. She rolls her neck and clenches her fists, cracking every knuckle in her hands. She then drives a single fingernail down the back of her neck, leaving a long beading trail of blood. Jonah wishes she’d stayed behind at the crash site.
Vespa stops the cycle and looks over the kids who wait for her to drop her front wheel over the cliff: there’s the long-haired and bullied Michael; Bidson, the big walrus boy with his arm stuck above his head; two of the girls from his botched module rescue, Aussie and Rosa; the boy with the sling, Brian; and, unfortunately, the three hackers, all of whom steer mostly clear of the cadets, whispering amongst themselves. The youngest hacker, a chubby boy with faded pink hair, jabs his finger in the air like he’s working out a calculation. It’s an odd group, peers Jonah thinks she wouldn’t associate much with, or at all, if the circumstances were different. She nods at Jonah and Brooklyn, and then, with the toes of her newfound shoes, she pushes herself past Ruth. Jonah waits for her to look back and search for Paul in the crowd, but she doesn’t. Then over she goes with her fingers pumping the brakes. The group heads west.
• • •
Three hours later, just minutes after sunset, the kids stagger out of the jungle onto a silver beach that stretches for miles in both directions. The mountains to the north loom black above the valley. Jonah’s arms ache from hacking through the trees with the small kitchen knife, his legs wobble from the bogs of hot water and freezing cold grass, and after a few steps onto the sand, he falls to his knees in gratitude for making it this far. Whatever spooked Paul the night before left them alone. Or watched from a distance. Or went after somebody else.
As Jonah picks himself up, he notices hundreds of shallow lines in the sand, all in pairs, all leading out of the water and up into the jungle. The lines are about five feet apart, and in between, the sand is perfectly smooth.
The cadets nervously gather wood from the lip of the jungle, and a half hour later, they sit around a raging purple fire, passing out foils of food. Vespa and Malix flank the group, rifles drawn and ready. Everyone is on edge, and hardly anyone has spoken since leaving the wreckage. It’s on all their minds: Are the kids who stayed behind getting slaughtered? Are they hanging from trees? And are they next?
Rosa rips open her dinner, and it immediately falls upside down in the sand. She lets out a lone, haunting sob before kicking the food into the fire. “I hate it here so much. I don’t deserve this. I really don’t. I wish I were dead.”
“As if you’re the only one here who wants you dead,” mumbles the second-oldest hacker. He has bushy brown hair and a gap between his teeth.
“Hey, demic, what’s your name?” Vespa asks.
“Didn’t I tell you?”
“No,” she says.
“Then it must not be any of your fucking business.”
Jonah cringes, awaiting Vespa’s retribution. Quickly, though, Bidson says, “It’s Shelly. His name is Shelly.”
“Shut up, asshole,” the boy says, kicking sand in his direction. “Who asked you, ya elephant? Seriously? Everyone calls me Richter, my middle name.”
With her eyes glued to the jungle, Vespa backpedals until she stands directly behind the hacker. “Well, little Shelly, how about you stop being such a dick?”
“I’ll think about it,” he grumbles.
“That was an order, not a suggestion.”
Richter sticks his tongue out and mocks being scared. Christina tosses a new log into the fire, sending up a column of sparks. Jonah watches as it turns to smoke. He wishes they hadn’t stopped for the night. His time is running out.
Brian clears his throat. “Excuse me, Ruth? I just want to say that I’m just really sorry about your brother. What happened to him, I mean. He and I used to play that game Skyler Bomb 3 a lot. Like every morning after breakfast. Daniel was my friend. Maybe he mentioned me…”
Ruth doesn’t look up, but her jaw flexes, and Brian trails off. She has a ticking clock, too, Jonah thinks, but hers will be much more violent, much more unpredictable than his blood disease. He’s actually grateful it’s dark; he doesn’t want anyone to see his eyes in case they’re nothing but solid blue marbles.
“Hey, you know, maybe we should go around in a circle and introduce ourselves,” Bidson offers. “That way everyone can—”
“Go for it, fatty,�
� Richter says. “Do it up. Seriously. You first. Wow us with your shitty life.”
The oldest hacker with the black bangs laughs. “And holy shit, put that big ugly arm of yours down already. You’re freaking me out with that fat meat hook.”
“I can’t,” Bidson whispers. He yanks down on his arm, but it pops right back up. “Ever since the wormhole, it’s been like this. The muscles…they’ve fused or something. I wish I could put it down, believe me.”
“Well, I’ll remember to use you as a clothesline if I get my shirt wet,” Richter says, laughing.
Jonah opens his mouth to defend everyone else affected by the wormhole when Bidson stands to address the group.
“Sure, fine, I’ll go.” His arm bounces as he rotates. “My name is Bidson Woods. I’m from Long Beach, California, and I play the piano. That’s something I’ve been doing since the age of three and something I hope to do again someday…if my arm ever relaxes… Um. I have one older sister who lives with my parents. Her name is Alice, and I miss her a lot right now. My main area of study at school was evolutionary biology, and I was aiming to get my degree in environmental law for a career in conservation science, but then this opportunity came up, to join the Athens community on Thetis, and…” The boy looks around to see if anyone is still listening. He eventually settles his eyes on Jonah, and the two of them stare solemnly at each other as he says, “I just couldn’t turn it down. How could I turn it down? But now here I am. On Achilles. With all of you guys. I should have turned it down.”
“And I bet you’re very, very hungry,” Richter adds with a smile. Vespa smacks him in the back of the head.
“Ouch! Screw off! Seriously!”
“I’m Aussie, if you didn’t already know,” the redhead says, shooting to her feet. “I’m originally from a small town outside of Cincinnati, in Kentucky, but we moved to Pasadena when I was ten. Next week is my seventeenth birthday. I’m an artist, a painter. I like math a lot, too. I was on track to be valedictorian. Um. What else?”
“You forgot to say that you’re really super hot,” the oldest hacker says. “Like, super duper.”
Aussie’s cheeks turn maroon, and she falls silent.
The boy smacks his lips, laughs, and then pushes his bangs away from his dark eyes. “Hell, I’ll go. I’m Hopper. Hi, Hopper. I’m um, well I’m a human being from the planet Earth. Male. Caucasian. Gemini? No, wait. Shit. I’m a Libra or something. Whatever. I really like computers and girls, in that order. But only sometimes, Red. Only sometimes. For fun, I enjoy crashing on uninhabited moons in galaxies far, far away, and then if there’s enough time, I like to be hunted down by maniacs who write creepy messages on the shirts of their victims. It’s kind of an expensive hobby, though, so I might find something new to do. Checkers, maybe. Fashion?”
No one speaks. Jonah thinks he can feel a pair of eyes on him, but when he looks around, he finds everyone staring at Hopper, who smiles and sits back down. Sean then tosses a log in the fire and coughs.
“I’m Sean,” he says. “That’s it.”
“And I’m Brooklyn from New Boston.”
“Her dad was in the military,” Vespa adds sarcastically.
“You know it, girl.” Brooklyn smiles.
“My name is Portis, and I have four older sisters, one of whom is waiting for me on Thetis. She’s one of the few survivors. And I’m telling you guys right now, I plan on seeing her again. Soon. So let’s get my ass to Thetis for a heartwarming reunion, okay?” The boy then solemnly puts his wrist in his mouth for a second before adding, “And I can’t stop biting myself since the wormhole. I just can’t.”
Jonah then stirs and gains a few people’s attention. Barely audible over the fire, he says, “I’m Jonah Lincoln, and I’m from all over Ohio. I’m a cadet. And nothing else really stands out about me.”
No one else volunteers; either they don’t care or are too tired. Jonah had hoped to hear some of Vespa’s backstory, even just where she’s from, but she moves away from the group before Jonah can finish his last sentence.
Ruth, Christina, and Brooklyn take up the next watch while some of the kids fall asleep. Jonah just lies there, staring at where the cliff and the wreckage should be.
Vespa sits with her back to the water eating a boxed meal. She catches Jonah looking at her and asks, “How sure are you again, Firstie? That you saw the other side out there?”
“Pretty sure.” He keeps his voice flat and distant, acting as if he doesn’t care she just caught him staring. It’s frustrating it’s on his mind with everything going on, but he’d really like to move and sit right next to her. Maybe touch her shoulder with his. “I saw land out there. Maybe it was an island, or maybe it was the other side. It was the first thing I noticed after the crash.”
“Maybe it was a mirage, though,” Sean offers. He lies on his back, looking up at the stars of the Silver Foot. “Like your mind playing tricks on you under all that stress. Or from the wormhole.”
“That’s definitely possible. But if it’s clear tomorrow morning, we should be able to see it. Otherwise, I don’t know what we’re going to do,” Jonah says.
With a jug of water between his long legs, Hopper says, “I just wish I had a sheaf with some GPS action, ya know? Then at least we’d have a map. Think about how much help that would be. We’re blind out here.”
Hearing the words “sheaf” and “blind” gives Jonah a pause, causing him to close his eyes and hug his arms around his waist. He can’t tell anyone about his disease. That is, until a ship from Thetis arrives and he can beg for some medicine.
“I just wish I had my other glasses right now,” Sean says. “The ones with all the movies on them. They were locked up in Module Eight’s media level.”
Hopper puts the cap back on the water jug. “We all lost a lot of things, bro. Some people are pissed they lost their friends or their lame-ass teachers, but I’m pissed I lost my Mini Sheaf X13. That’s what I really want right now, you know, to keep myself entertained on this stupid hike.”
“Why? What does it do?” Sean asks.
“Man, it does everything. Everything. It’s the most powerful piece of equipment I’ve ever tooled around with. I jail-broke that bad boy in seconds and then spent five months adding my own software, my own codes, codes I stole… Damn, you know, I bet I could probably contact Earth with that thing, from right here on this freaking beach. I could probably hack into Thetis’s system and just talk, talk, talk away with some hot chicks on Earth. Hear about how much they miss me, or just what’s going on in the war.”
Vespa sits up. “Are you telling me that we’re down here, and instead we could be combing the wreckage site for your sheaf and maybe talking to Thetis or Earth?”
“Man, I already found it with the other busted-up sheafs. It’s burnt to a crisp. Not one piece of it was salvageable. Worst tragedy so far, if you ask me.”
Those listening remain silent, including Jonah. All the sheafs were destroyed? Good thing he grabbed his, even if it is missing amongst the wreckage. There’s still a chance he could somehow get it back, as slight as it might be. The hacker wipes some sand from his clothes, twists in his seat, and opens his backpack. “But I do have something else y’all might like. Sneaked it out of the tank the day of the crash.”
In the boy’s palm sits a square piece of black metal. Several clear tubes circle it, pulsing red and yellow.
Sean immediately gets on his hands and knees and crawls over. His face drains of color. “Wait. Is that a—”
“A homing device? A mother-fucking homing beacon?” Hopper asks. “Yes, ladies and gentlemen. Yes, it is. And it was the only one I could find in all that mess. All the other ones from all the other vehicles, and from all the modules, were missing. But whoever stole them missed this little guy.”
“I can’t believe you found that,” Sean whispers.
Hopper smiles, brings the device up to his fuzzy lips, and kisses it.
Chapter Seven
After sixteen ho
urs, most of the kids are hard at work with full stomachs. The sky is a dark gray that’s two or three shades from black. An hour ago, just off shore, hundreds of arm-sized fish leaped high above the water, crashing together, wrapping their long tails around each other’s abdomen, emitting red flashes. The noise and lights woke anyone who was sleeping, and Vespa officially called it a night.
Jonah didn’t sleep. Not for a second. He just lay there, reliving the crash over and over and over. And when he wasn’t reliving the crash, he kept telling himself that if he’s going to survive, then he has to commit to stop being this passive, quiet Firstie who hesitates first, acts second. He needs to be aggressive, confident, and loud. As the others slept around the dwindling purple fire, Jonah studied their faces, the way they breathed and where they placed their hands, and he realized that none of these kids were going to save him, not even Vespa. It was up to him.
Hopper’s homing device brought new energy to the group, but it also brought an intense anger from Vespa and a few others. After all, he held a key to being rescued, and he kept it from everyone. Vespa got right up into his face.
“Listen,” he said before stuffing it back into his bag. “I got a really, really bad vibe from some of those cadets. That Paul guy, holy shit, he was a little too intense back there, don’t ya think?” Jonah flinched and waited for Vespa to punch Hopper in the gut, but she didn’t bat an eye as the boy continued: “The way that guy wanted to find that power supply and wouldn’t listen to anyone else? Like, anyone at all, as if he knew exactly what was going on? He was getting real buggy, real freaky, and I didn’t trust him, and I didn’t trust that idiot Griffin and his stupid lion haircut or that Steph chick. I wasn’t going to tell anyone about my little find until we were far enough away from those freaks.”
“And so what? You trust us?” Vespa asked.
“I used to. Until you started going bat-shit crazy all the time. I mean, what’s your problem, anyway?”