by Greg Boose
Jonah allows Michael to hold on to the back of his jumpsuit, and he forgives him each time he bumps into him when he stops to listen. Aussie follows closely behind, breathing rapidly, her gun straight out in front of her face.
Bidson stumbles nearby. “I keep picturing the adults are all around a fire at the crash site. They’ve killed Zion, and everybody else is okay, and they’re almost done fixing the communication network. And Hopper has made it back, too, and he is feeling so guilty about leaving us that he’s putting together a rescue team to come find us.”
“I like that,” Portis says. He moves ahead and spins with his eye glued to his scope. When he’s satisfied, he aims into the canopy and spins again. This is how he moves, spinning and aiming, spinning and aiming, pausing only to bite a finger or chew on his shoulder. “There’s no way in hell Hopper is there already when he has only had a ten-minute start on us, though, but it’s definitely possible that the adults are back and they’re fixing things. Maybe that fire we saw up there last night was our guys killing Zion. Wait, here comes Christina.”
Christina’s face pokes through a row of giant orange wildflowers. “You guys have to see this.”
Chapter Eleven
From a distance, it looks as if they’ve found a bright, twinkling city in the middle of the jungle. Jonah chases Christina into a cluster of trees that appears to be hooked up to a power grid. Millions of tiny white bulbs pulse like winter holiday lights back on Earth, and Jonah’s eyes sting painfully, but he refuses to look away.
Michael rotates on his heels. “Whoa.”
Malix steps out from behind one of the glowing trees. “But look closely! They’re some kind of lizards or something. Check it out.”
Jonah cautiously walks to the nearest tree, shielding his eyes from the growing light. He focuses on one of the bulbs, and when it finally fades, he sees a five-inch winged toad creature with a swirling red and yellow design on its back. Two long, floppy ears slide back and forth over the toad’s striped head, as if they’re licking its scalp, until they seem to pick up Jonah’s presence, and then they both point at his face. The design on the toad’s back separates, revealing a cloudy white abdomen. A microscopic light appears on the abdomen’s tip, and within seconds, the creature glows with such intensity that Jonah has to finally look away.
The lights reach a hundred or more yards to the east and west, pulsing in several patterns. It’s like the kids are in a grand hall, or an outdoor mall, and to Jonah’s surprise, Malix and Christina lock arms and swing each other around, laughing among the twinkling lizards.
“Why do you think they glow like that?” Portis asks Michael.
“Oh, probably for mating, but it’s funny because they don’t seem to be moving much. They’re not pairing off. But their bioluminescence could also be due to the production of certain defensive steroids that tell their predators they taste bad.”
“Right,” Bidson whispers.
“So, does this mean they think we’re the predators?” Jonah asks. He slows his movements; he doesn’t want to scare them off. He also doesn’t want them to attack.
“Maybe,” Aussie adds. “Or maybe there’s something else around that triggered the light show. Maybe Hopper or Tunick was just here.”
“True,” Michael whispers. “But for all we know, this could be how they sleep.”
Then, out of the corner of Jonah’s eye, far down the path of well-lit trees, he sees a shadowy figure jump out from between two trunks and hide behind another.
“Hey, hey. We have company,” Jonah whispers. His voice remains calm, but his heart immediately turns to fire. He’s had enough surprises for one night. He presses his eye to his scope. The glowing toads are too bright, though, and to avoid burning away his vision completely, he rips the scope away from his face. His skin cools with anticipation.
“Is it Zion?” Bidson whispers.
“Where? Where?” Portis asks. He snaps his fingers at Malix and Christina, who stop dancing and jog over. “Jonah saw somebody.”
“I saw it, too. Over there.” Aussie frantically aims her handgun left and right. She then yells, “Hopper? That you, Hopper? Tell us so we don’t shoot you! I have a gun now! Just tell us where you are!”
A shadow explodes out of a group of giant wildflowers and flattens itself behind a twisted tree. Malix charges ahead. “Stop! Stop right there! If you don’t tell me who you are in two seconds, I’ll shoot you right in the face, I swear to god!”
“It could be Vespa!” Jonah calls. “Don’t shoot!”
The toads up and down the line of trees increase their brightness with all the noise, and Christina blindly circles around the opposite side of the twisted tree while Malix shields his eyes in front. A gunshot suddenly rings out. Once. Twice. Bark flies off the tree in front of the cadets, and they dive and roll away. The toads on the tree take flight, zipping toward Aussie, whose gun barrel smokes in her outstretched hands. The toads buzz and swirl together, and then they dive. A tornado of light attacks Aussie, and she screams and fires her gun without aiming, shooting Portis in the thigh. He collapses to the ground, wailing.
Jonah charges and swings the butt of his rifle at the buzzing cyclone of toads, a baseball player with a thousand balls to choose from. He bats several of the creatures to the ground. He can’t hit them all, though, and even more descend from the trees to attack Aussie. They cling to her, covering her open mouth. Thousands more appear, first looping upward in a glowing arc, then winding toward Aussie like a school of fish. Jonah watches in horror as they blanket Aussie from head to toe. Suddenly a high-pitched yipping comes from behind the twisted tree, and the toads scatter into the sky. The yipping grows stronger and stronger, and finally the most stubborn fly off Aussie, leaving the girl convulsing with sobs, her skin bleeding with scratches and bites.
“Somebody!” Portis presses his hands tightly over his thigh. “She shot me, she shot me. Damn. Shit. I can’t believe she shot me!”
With the yipping still echoing through the trees, Malix rips off the end of his sleeve, and he and Christina rush over to Portis. Bidson stands motionless on the side, afraid to move, and Jonah kneels over Aussie, who keeps whipping her hands over her body as if she were still being attacked by toads. He has to grab her wrists and pin them to the ground.
“Aussie, stop! You’re okay, you’re okay,” Jonah tells her. “They’re gone. The toads are gone, Aussie. Just stop. They’re all gone.”
Michael bounces around in panic, repeating Jonah’s every word. Aussie sobs and finally opens her eyes, and then lets out a long, reverberating scream. It takes Jonah a moment to realize she has her eyes locked on something over his shoulder. He turns to see a young girl standing just behind him.
The girl slowly backs away. She’s small and bony and absolutely filthy. A green vine keeps a wild mop of black hair out of her sunburnt face. In one hand, she holds a long, crooked machete made of black stone. In the other, a cluster of uprooted weeds with circular leaves that drops large clumps of soil with every step.
“Hey,” Jonah musters. He keeps his eyes on the machete, which to his relief, is covered in a white liquid, and not blood.
“Great. Now who the fuck are you?” Portis groans. Christina and Malix reach for their rifles. Michael backs away silently, knocking a lantern over.
The girl twists around and stares at the three cadets, and then she puts a finger to her lips. Her nostrils flare in and out while her large eyes shift back and forth.
“What? Jesus, now what? What do you hear?” Portis asks. Then louder, “Enough with the fucking drama! I’ve been shot, little girl. I’m bleeding to death. Who the hell are you, and will you please just go away? JUST GO AWAY!”
“Portis,” Jonah warns, his hand up to the girl. If she came from Thetis, if she’s been on Achilles for over a year, then he wants to talk to her.
The girl clenches her jaw as Portis blathers on, and when it appears she can’t take it anymore, she pounces, catching everyone off guard. She
thrust-kicks Malix in the chest, sending him several feet backward. In the same motion, the girl spins and knees Christina in the temple, drawing blood. Before Portis can utter a sound, the girl has the machete pressed against his throat.
“Shit,” Portis croaks, his hands planted on his leg wound. “I’m sorry. Don’t kill me. Please.”
Jonah scrambles to his feet. “Wait, please. We’re just lost, and we’re just trying to get—”
“Shh,” the girl whispers angrily. A large chunk of soil falls from the roots of her plant.
Christina rolls onto her side and struggles to aim her rifle at the girl, but the long gun wavers weakly in her hand. “You little bitch.”
“Everyone quiet,” the girl whispers.
Jonah watches Malix creep up behind her. Before Jonah can tell him to stop, before the girl can react, Malix presses the barrel of his rifle into the back of the girl’s skull. “Now you listen to me, you little piece of shit. Back away, drop your weapon and uh, that plant thing you have, and put your hands on the top of your head. Slowly.”
The girl keeps the blade at Portis’s throat and stares at Jonah. “Please be quiet. He’s coming. We have to move. Now.”
“Who’s coming?” Bidson asks.
“Zion?” Michael whispers.
Aussie sits up and grabs Michael’s hand. Jonah presses his scope to his eyes and scans the dark jungle, his heart beating out of his chest.
“Good,” Malix growls, pushing the barrel harder against her skull. “It’s time we meet.”
“No. We have to go,” she says. “Come with me.”
“Zion! Get your ass out here! I want to meet you!” Malix shouts. He pulls the gun away from the back of the girl’s skull and shoots a long blue beam into the air. “Come on out, asshole!”
The girl with the machete curses and spits, and then Jonah sees her whisper something into Portis’s ear. The cadet’s eyes instantly widen, and then just as quickly as she arrived, the girl disappears amongst the trees.
“Wait!” Jonah shouts after her.
Portis sits there, his mouth open. Then a smile appears on his face before he clutches his leg and wobbles from side to side in pain.
“Portis?” Jonah asks. “What did she say to you?”
“Zion! ZION!” Malix screams. The few remaining toads circling above fly off, leaving the kids in almost complete darkness, with just slivers of Peleus slipping through the trees.
Jonah clicks on the light of his rifle. “Portis? What did she say?”
“Um, I’m really… She told me that my—”
There’s a loud rustling to their left, and Jonah spins with his scope to his eye. Aussie grabs his jumpsuit, and Christina positions herself over Portis. Jonah turns on the night-vision mode of his rifle, and behind a sparse, spiky bush, he sees a bright green figure crouching, rubbing its hands manically together over its head.
“Tunick?” Jonah whispers loudly.
The bright green figure falls to his butt and claps his hands softly. In a low whisper, he asks, “Smart boy? Ooh, hoo, hoo, hoo. You need to run. Are you with Zion, smart boy? Did you meet Zion yet?”
“Not yet,” whispers Aussie, her words catching in her throat.
Malix marches over. “Seriously, man? You again?”
Tunick crawls out of the bush. He rolls over and covers his face from the lights with his dirty hands, begging, “Stop, stop, stop. So much light. Don’t be so mean all the time. You’re so mean to me and I’ve been nothing but nice.”
“Nice?” Christina laughs.
“I should kill you,” Malix growls. “I should shoot your head off right here. What are you doing here?”
“Where’s Hopper?” asks Michael.
“Where’s Hopper? Where’s Kippy?” Tunick asks. “The question is, little boy, where’s Zion? Because I can smell him. He’s downwind, so smelly. I heard you yelling. Don’t yell at night. You’ll attract so many things, so many bad things. I thought you were all smart.”
Far off in the darkness, Jonah hears more rustling. A branch snaps.
“Uh oh,” Tunick whispers. “Come, come, come. We must run. We’ll race, we’ll race. Winner gets all the chocolate and the energizer.”
“No,” Jonah says. He squares himself in the direction of the noise. “We’re not running anymore.”
“And why the hell would we trust you after you attacked Vespa?” Christina asks.
Tunick draws his knees up to his face and then kicks his legs into the air. He lands on his feet and rubs his fingers together nervously next to his ears. “I’m sorry. I was confused. I was angry. Time is running short if I’m going to show you something. On the count of three.”
“I can’t exactly move, asshole,” Portis whines. “I’ve been shot. By her.”
“I’m so sorry, Portis,” Aussie says.
“I’m not going anywhere!” Malix barks. “I want to meet this guy already. We’ve got a bunch of questions. And after he answers me, I’m going to burn a bunch of dots and Cs all over his fucking body.”
Jonah continues to scan the darkness. With nothing to shield them but the trees, and no fortified escape route, they’re at a complete disadvantage. “I thought you were friends with Zion, Tunick. Tell him we just want to talk to him and that we come in peace. He trusts you, right?”
“No, no, no. Not right now. I stole something.”
“What did you steal?”
The noises grow closer. Jonah can’t figure out what direction they’re coming from. Malix presses his back against Christina’s, and they slowly rotate with their rifles up.
Tunick begins to backpedal to the bush from where he came. “He doesn’t want to talk. Be smart, smart kids. Come with me and we can talk, and I’ll show you what I need to show you before it’s too late. It’s not very far from here. Look, look, look.” He springs over to Portis and lifts him up by his armpits. “I’ll carry Big Head.” Tunick drapes the cringing cadet over his massive shoulders.
Jonah feels the jungle closing in on him, as if they just walked into a trap. He feels the exact opposite of what he felt in the sphere. He looks around at the disheveled, exhausted, and unprepared kids and shakes his head, his confidence gone. “Damn it. I think we should do this somewhere else. Set up a perimeter in case things go south. Get a wall to our back, or lead Zion into a bottleneck. Portis, are you okay?”
Tunick rotates so Portis can look at Jonah. “Man, I’m losing a lot of blood. I need to get out of here.”
“Malix,” Jonah says. “Let’s fall back and find a better location, somewhere Zion can’t get the fall on us like this. I want to talk to him just as much as you do, believe me.”
Still up against Christina and looking through his scope, the cadet says, “I’m not going any—”
Blue lasers suddenly blast out of the darkness, sweeping back and forth over their heads. Jonah recognizes the lasers as Mayflower 2-issued LZR-rifle fire, and he hits the dirt and shouts, “Friendlies! Stop! We’re friendlies over here! Cadets!”
Christina peels away from Malix and drops to a knee, firing back.
“Wait!” Jonah shouts. He pictures Vespa and Brooklyn, confused or in trouble, unknowingly shooting at their friends. “Friendlies! Friendlies! We’re just kids! We’re just kids!”
The lasers keep coming, shredding the trees all around them. Malix roars and pulls his trigger, sending a barrage of blue light into the shadows. The demics lie on the ground and cover their heads. A large branch overhead cracks and falls on Bidson, flattening him to the ground. Jonah doesn’t know what to do, to fire back or retreat. He points his barrel skyward and shoots several pairs of lights, hoping to communicate with those in the darkness. The enemy stops shooting for a second, but before Jonah can call for a ceasefire, the lasers attack from a different angle.
“Over here!” Tunick grunts, tossing Portis high over the bushes. The cadet howls in pain, and Tunick jumps after him.
A beam blasts through Michael’s long hair, and he falls writhing a
t Jonah’s feet. This isn’t friendly fire, Jonah realizes. That shot was intentional. He places himself behind a charred tree stump. He kills the flashlight under his barrel and yells for someone to turn off the lantern.
Aussie claws her way past Michael, crying and choking. She falls onto the lantern, snuffing its light.
Jonah waits until the enemy fire reappears, and once a few lasers blast in from the far left, he aims and shoots. The rifle bucks against his shoulder, and he locks his arms and tries to ignore Tunick’s laughter. Bidson wiggles out from underneath the tree branch, huffing his way toward a row of thick wildflowers, but a laser catches his left wrist, blowing off his hand. The huge demic twirls away into the shadows.
“Fall back!” Jonah shouts.
“Are we hitting him?” Christina yells.
“Doesn’t look like it,” Malix says, ducking a beam. “The bastard keeps moving. Stop moving!”
Jonah can’t believe how fast they seem to be losing. “That’s it, cadets! Fall back!”
“Oh, come on!” Malix yells. He and Christina kneel and shoot randomly into the night, and Jonah knows it’s doing more damage than good. If their body heat isn’t giving their location away, then their rifles are.
Aussie and Michael belly crawl toward the bushes. In his night vision, Jonah sees them huddle near Portis and an unmoving Bidson. Tunick dances around their bodies.
“Last chance!” Tunick yells. “YOU’RE ALL GOING TO DIE! On the count of three! One.”
“We gotta go, guys!” Jonah shouts at Christina and Malix.
“Two,” says Tunick.
“We should split up and flank him,” Malix growls.
Christina lets up on her trigger. “Flank him? We can’t even see him. We should wait for him to expose himself.”
“I’m not going to wait for him.”
“Well, flanking is out of the question!” Christina barks.
“Three!”
Another chain of blue zips over their heads. A massive tree on the right explodes, and in what feels like slow motion, the trunk slides away, tipping directly toward the three cadets.