by Greg Boose
“Supposedly,” Malix says.
Christina scans the trees with her night-vision scope. “Right. I’m thinking that was all BS. Who knows what that guy actually knows.”
“He has a gun now,” Michael says.
This fact sinks in for a moment before Vespa pulls out her blue handgun. “Screw him. Let him go. If he were going to kill us, he’d be sniping us from the trees right now, picking us off, laughing like a damn fool. The best revenge would be to just leave him here on this piece of shit moon. We’ll redouble our efforts to move west, and after twenty days, we’ll set the biggest distress fire signal you’ve ever seen and Thetis will come right on over. I’m sick of it here. I’m really sick of it here.”
“Definitely,” Brooklyn says. “Let’s get ourselves saved. Let’s help Jonah.”
“But what about Sean? Forget about my disease for a second. Sean must be in trouble, right? Shouldn’t we help him?” Jonah asks.
Portis shrugs. “If he’s not responding, he’s probably dead.”
“Ruth, too,” Christina says.
“Can we go back to the beach, please?” Bidson asks. “Just standing here near the jungle doesn’t feel the safest.”
Michael pulls at the front of his pants and then turns to the water and sighs. “Well, if we’re going to keep going, it looks like the shore might eventually curve west beyond the island, so I’d say we’re actually in pretty good shape.” Then, in a quieter voice: “Everything considered, of course.”
Vespa straightens the pack on her shoulders. “Fine. Let’s regroup on the beach.”
They walk silently into the full moonlight. As soon as they step onto the sand, though, there’s rustling behind them in the jungle, and everyone spins around with their rifles up.
“What was that?” Christina whispers.
“I don’t know,” Portis says.
“Zion?” asks Michael.
They all stand silent, listening, until Bidson asks, “Where’s Hopper?”
Jonah looks over the line of kids. Hopper’s gone.
Vespa shakes her head. “He wants to be with Tunick, I guess. Guy’s nuttier than I thought he was.”
“He’s crazy,” Malix says. He cups his mouth and shouts, “Hopper! You’re crazy!”
Everyone looks at Jonah, who yells, “I’m sorry, Hopper! Come on back! I’m sorry I hit you!”
“I’m not!” Brooklyn yells.
Malix steps toward the trees. “Do we go after him?”
“Come back, Hopper! I’m seriously sorry!” Jonah yells.
“Should we take a vote?” Portis asks. “Do we really want him back?”
“Let him go,” Brooklyn says. “He lost the homing device, and he’s been an absolute jerk to everyone. If he wants to join forces with that lunatic out there, let him. He’ll come back.”
“That could be dangerous, though. I mean, Hopper’s a genius,” Michael says. “And angry geniuses are vengeful ones. Don’t you guys read science fiction?”
“Screw him.” Vespa spits. “Does anyone else want to leave?”
Aussie raises a trembling hand. “I think…I think I want to go back. I’m really scared and I’m freaking out, and I think I just want to go back to the crash site and see who’s still there. We’re pretty close to it now, and I think I’m ready to go back to the ship and see if the others are still there and then wait.” After a pause: “I’m sorry, Jonah.”
Jonah opens his mouth to say she doesn’t need to apologize, that it makes perfect sense, and at the rate they’re going there’s no way he’s going to make it anyway, but Bidson clears his throat and adds, “Yeah, me, too.”
“I could go either way at this point,” Christina says, sighing.
“What? Don’t you all remember the cook and the teacher?” Vespa asks. “What was on their shirts? Or on the shirts that Malix found? And the fire just last night up on the cliff? Someone’s killing people at our crash site and you want to go back?”
“Yeah, it was an asshole named Zion,” Malix says. “We know who it is now. We don’t have to keep going west. We’ll just shoot the fucker.”
Vespa throws up her arms. “I want to shoot him, too, believe me. That’s all I want. But the bottom line is that we have to close the gap and get in the telescope’s range as soon as possible. For Jonah. For all of us.”
“We keep going west,” Brooklyn says. “Absolutely.”
“Guys, no. Brooklyn. Vespa. This is ridiculous,” Jonah says, blushing from the attention. “If it weren’t for me being sick, you know we’d all be heading back to the crash site right now to warn anyone who’s still there that Tunick’s coming to look for the power supply, and to tell them about Zion. Think about it for a second. When we were in the cave, after we lost Richter and before Kip vanished, I told myself, and I told you, Vespa, that we should go back. My life isn’t worth anyone else getting killed. How many kids have died since we started?”
“Three,” Michael says. “Four, with Kip.”
“Five, if you include Hopper leaving,” Michael says.
Bidson adds, “Seven, if you count Sean and Ruth.”
“Seven. Seven kids are gone. Already, just two days in, seven kids are gone, and three are definitely dead. That’s ridiculous. I’m going back to the site and you all should, too, to help whoever’s left. No one else is going to die for me. My life…” Jonah trails off. Then, after a hard swallow, he continues, “My life hasn’t exactly been a good one. It’s been shit, to be honest. And the way things are going, it looks like it’s either going to keep being shit, or it’s just going to end. The rest of you, your best chance is to go back to the crash site and protect yourself there and wait to be saved.”
“Jonah, be optimistic,” Brooklyn says. “In nineteen days or so we’ll be visible to Thetis.”
“Be realistic! Do you really think they’re going to be monitoring Achilles at the exact moment we’re visible to them, scanning our exact vicinity? If I were a demic and I could calculate the odds, I’m sure they’d be ridiculous.”
“That’s why we’re going to set a fire,” Vespa says. “They’ll see the smoke. We’ll burn a thousand acres.”
Jonah stares at Vespa. He knows she’s going to see him as a quitter, a coward, and an ignorant Firstie, but it doesn’t matter anymore. He’d rather she see him as all those things, than for him to see her die for him. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m going back.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Vespa says.
Aussie hugs him. “You’re so brave. Thank you.”
“I think he’s right,” Christina says. “Our odds are better going back.”
“Jonah!” Vespa barks. “You are not just going to give up! That is not what you were trained to do at the academy! So get your ass in gear, suck it up, shut up, and move west.”
“No,” Jonah says.
“We should all go back, Vespa,” says Portis.
Vespa never breaks eye contact with Jonah. “I’m not going back. You can go back and sit around and wait for help to come—wait to die—or you can bring the help to you, and live. We’re already two days in. It would be idiotic to turn around now.”
“I’m sorry.”
Vespa’s eyes burrow into his so hard he feels she can see the blue behind their sockets. “So, that’s how you’re going to honor your parents’ death? That’s disgusting.”
Her words cut brutally deep, but Jonah doesn’t flinch. “If you keep going west, Vespa, you’re going to die. Is that how you’re going to honor your dad? You’ll never see if his obsession was worth anything.”
Vespa charges and everyone scatters. Jonah closes his eyes and waits for the fists to come. After a few seconds, though, he opens his lids to find Vespa standing directly in front of him, the toes of their shoes inches apart. He looks down into her furious green eyes.
“You talk about my dad again, I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you before any disease has the chance.”
“Sorry,” Jonah says. “I didn’t mean—”
/> “Brooklyn!” Vespa shouts into Jonah’s face.
“Yeah?”
“You staying with these cowards, or are you coming with me?”
Brooklyn doesn’t answer at first, and then she whispers, “I don’t want to go back. I want to keep moving. Help Jonah.” After a pause, she adds, “Help myself.”
“Malix! What about you?”
“It’s too crazy out here, Vespa. And with that Zion guy out there, I think we’re better off back at the site. Maybe the demics we left behind have fixed something and we’re hours from getting picked up. Maybe Kip made it back.”
“Sorry, Vespa,” Christina says.
Vespa squints at Jonah and clenches her jaw. It still looks like she’s going to punch him, and he flexes his stomach muscles to lessen the incoming pain, but to his shock, Vespa pushes onto her toes and wraps her arms around his neck. She hugs him tight, and he loses his breath as he smells the ocean on her skin.
The Fourth Year slowly draws back. Jonah wants to pull her back in and whisper something into her ear, just like Paul, but before he can, Vespa blasts her palms against his shoulders, knocking him five feet backward into the sand. He lies there absolutely paralyzed from both the shove and the hug; he tries to stand up, but his legs and arms simply sink a few inches into the wet beach.
“If you’re going to be a quitter, fine.” Vespa stands over him. “But I won’t be. If you think you’re safer back there, not running, your disease must have gotten to your fucking brain. And, who knows, maybe you don’t even have a disease. You ever thought of that? Have you thought that maybe Dr. Z was lying to you this whole time, and if she’s involved with all this, this could be a part of her sick plan?” Jonah takes a deep breath. Yes, he’s thought of that, but he remembers her face hovering above his after the crash, the sincerity and concern in her eyes. “People are dying out here, Jonah? More people have died back there. That’s a fact. Count it up. I’m going to keep running and I’m going to cut the days in half, and I swear to my dad’s old god that I’m going to get to Thetis and see what the fuss is about. I’ll stop by in about twenty days with a ship from Thetis, so if you’re still alive from just sitting around and waiting with your thumb up your ass, then maybe I’ll pick you up.”
And with that, she turns around and grabs Brooklyn’s elbow. The demic in the huge white shirt, his one true friend, nods at him and mouths “Goodbye.” And then the two girls start jogging west.
Jonah sits up. “Vespa! Just wait! Brooklyn! Come on! Come back!”
The girls quickly fade into small silhouettes. Jonah takes a deep breath before standing to face everyone. He can’t believe Vespa and Brooklyn just left. And that they left for him. After a few seconds, he looks up at the crowd of dirty, hungry kids, and says, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys I was sick. And I’m sorry I led you away from the site and so many of your friends got killed. They were becoming my friends, too. Which is kind of rare for me.”
“Man, I’d do the same thing,” Malix says. “If you’re that sick and you’re actually dying, then it’s a race against time. You didn’t have a choice, man. Don’t worry about it. But I’m surprised you’d stop going when those two are still going.”
Jonah turns back to the beach. His stomach clenches in regret. “I know. I didn’t think we’d split up. I thought everyone would go back together. Including them.”
“It really does have the highest rate of survival. Going back, that is,” says Michael.
No one responds, and after thirty seconds, they all turn and start to walk. Their feet softly crunch the silvery sand, and a water jug gets passed around. Jonah walks in a daze, barely listening to the others.
“Why do you think Tunick wants the power supply so much anyway?” Malix finally asks.
“Maybe he has some type of weapon he wants to charge,” says Christina.
“Or maybe he wants to build a weapon,” Bidson says.
“Out of what, though?” asks Michael.
Portis pulls the jug away from his lips. “Who knows what that asshole has out there? He could have scraps from his ship’s wreckage, or he could have stolen stuff from ours. Maybe he has some sort of science experiment ready to go and he just needs some juice. That’s why I think we should stay away from him.”
“If he has a science experiment ready to go, then Hopper will come in handy,” Michael says.
“That’s if Tunick hasn’t already killed him. Or Zion,” Malix says.
With every step, regret moves from Jonah’s stomach and begins to spill throughout his body, coating everything. His decision to stop moving west was based on keeping everyone else safe, sacrificing his life for everyone in the group, especially Vespa and Brooklyn. But they left, and he’s going to die. His friends left to save him, and he’s going to sit around and wait to die?
He doesn’t say a word; he just turns and runs. The kids behind him call his name and Malix gives chase, but Jonah ignores them and keeps running. He follows Vespa and Brooklyn’s small footprints in the sand, but after fifty yards, they veer right and disappear over the grass. Jonah skids on his heels and shouts into the jungle, “Vespa! Vespa! Brooklyn! Wait! I’m coming with you!”
Malix stops next to him and holds his breath, waiting for a reply from the girls. But the boys only hear squawks and leaves and the ocean lapping at the sand.
“Vespa!” Jonah shouts again.
“Brooklyn!” Malix yells. “We’re right here! Hold on! Jonah’s coming with you!”
There is no response. After a minute, Malix pats Jonah’s shoulder and says they’re gone, that it’s time to go, but Jonah just stares into the dark line of trees.
“Vespa!” Jonah swings his rifle into his arms and shoots into the air, sending a repeating pair of blue beams skyward. Then he tries shooting in threes and fours, but there’s still no response.
“They’re gone, man.”
Jonah can’t believe it. He shoots twice more, and then he solemnly pulls the rifle over his back, turns, and walks past Malix in silence. Just like that? They’re gone, too? This moon just keeps taking and taking. It can’t just keep taking. At some point it has to give something back. Or someone.
“I don’t think she actually wanted you to go with them, you know. You could hear it in her voice,” Malix says as he slaps him on the back. “She’s just trying to protect you if you’re so sick. And you’re really that sick, huh?”
He doesn’t answer, picturing Vespa and Brooklyn sprinting through the trees, jumping up the sides of mountains, diving into waterfalls with some sort of snarling creature chasing behind. They’ve got about eighteen more days of all this to go out there. He knows he’ll never see either one of them again.
When Jonah and Malix return to the group, Aussie wraps her arms around Jonah’s sides, pinning his wrists to his body. It’s been a long time since he’s been hugged, and that’s twice in ten minutes. “I just want to say I’m so sorry you’re so sick.”
Jonah wiggles out of her embrace and looks over his shoulder one last time, hoping to see the girls returning at full speed, or maybe Kip. Or Brian or Rosa or Richter or… But no one comes.
“Do you need to rest?” Bidson asks him.
“I don’t want to stop,” he says. “I’m sick, but I don’t feel sick, and I don’t think I’ll feel sick for another week or so. If everyone’s up for it, I say we keep going. Get back as soon as we can.”
“It might be faster to go back over the reef and then across on the rafts,” Bidson says. “There’s no way we’ll be able to climb those mountains.”
“I can’t go back on those rafts,” Michael says.
“Me neither,” adds Malix.
“No way,” Aussie says.
“But what about Tunick?” asks Portis. “We set foot in that jungle and that dude will straight up kill us. He’ll kill us, and then he’ll eat us, and then he’ll eat all the chocolate out of our packs for dessert.”
“Jonah?” Michael asks.
He squints
upward at the mountains. This is a decision Vespa would make, and he wishes she were there to make it. Everyone stares at him, and it’s odd; some of them have pity in their eyes, but there’s also respect there. It’s strange to see, and it feels incredible. “No,” he finally says. “Tunick is long gone. Like Vespa said, if he wanted to kill us, we’d all be dead. He’s after that energizer—that’s all he seems to care about. And he’s probably halfway back to the site with all his little roads and paths he’s made over the past year. There has to be a fast way to get through those mountains. A valley or a tunnel or something.”
“You’re probably right,” Michael says.
“But what about Zion?” Aussie asks. “It sounds like he’s the guy we need to be worried about. What if he’s in there?”
Christina reaches behind her back and produces a blue handgun. She hands it to Aussie. “Then you shoot him.”
“Oh.” Aussie carefully turns the weapon over, examining every inch. It’s obvious it’s the first time she’s ever held a gun, and Jonah wonders if it’s a good idea.
“Wait,” Bidson says. “I want a gun, too.”
“Sorry. That’s all I’ve got.” Christina holds up her hands.
“Just use your muscles, man.” Portis laughs. “Squeeze the shit out of somebody with your good arm.”
“So, that’s it, huh? We’re going through the jungle, then,” Malix says.
Jonah sees a look of concern come over all their faces. Like him, they’re probably imagining packs of bloodthirsty monkey creatures with glowing eyes, flying jellyfish dragging sharp talons, and a beastly, half-naked Zion carrying an armful of spears, one for each of them. He looks through the night-vision scope of his rifle. Nothing shows up. With a flick of a finger, the barrel glows white. He takes a step forward and says, “Let’s just get this over with.”
They creep inside the jungle line, their flashlights and lanterns on. Overhead, branches shake and crack, and there’s a low chittering all around, but the cadets only find small flying discs and birdlike creatures in their scopes. Jonah has to remind himself to breathe at first, but after twenty minutes, they all fall into a rhythm, and then Malix and Christina hesitantly resume their roles as scouts.