Deviants (The Dust Chronicles)

by Maureen McGowan

  A Comp shines his torch where Cal was pointing.

  “Look,” Cal says. “Footprints, leading this way.”

  “Let’s move,” Deep Voice says, and the Comps and Cal march forward into the path on the right.

  After what feels like hours but is probably less than a minute, Burn lifts his iron-strap arm from my body and I can finally draw deep breaths. But the air in the cave is rank and I want out.

  “Can we leave?” I whisper.

  “Burn,” my father says, “give Glory and me a moment to talk?”

  “No,” Drake whispers hard and strong, and I’m so proud of my little brother for wanting to protect me from our monster of a father.

  “No time for talking.” Burn slides forward. He drops down out of the cave, cranks his torch, and sets it on the tunnel floor, pointing up and casting a dull light. “It won’t take them long to figure out that the trail I left doesn’t lead far.”

  Brilliant. Burn is smarter than I thought. Now we’ll have a head start down the alternate route.

  Burn grabs my ankle and pulls.

  “Hey.” I kick free.

  He raises his hands as if in surrender. “Come out on your own then. Hurry.”

  “You go,” my father says to me. “I’ll hand Drake to Burn.”

  I let Burn help me down then he reaches back for my brother. Light from the Comps’ torches bounces in the tunnel to the right, growing brighter. They’re coming back toward us. Apparently they’ve already realized they were tricked. Burn pushes Drake back into the cave, then bends to turn off our lantern.

  I need to do something. Fast.

  I dash to the entrance of the tunnel they’re in and yell, “Help! You went the wrong way.” My voice echoes down the tunnel as I head for the other fork and run. I’m not sure what I’ll do once they catch me, and they will, given my bad ankle, but that doesn’t matter as long as they don’t find Drake. Burn will keep him safe.

  Heavy footsteps pound behind me and I stumble in the darkness, my ankle screaming.

  A hard, strong arm wraps around my waist, lifting me from the ground. It’s Burn. I’m relieved and terrified at once. If he followed me, then my brother is alone with our father.

  He stops, thrusts me forward, and my hands strike metal. “Climb.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  AS I CLIMB, a faint hint of light drifts toward me. When I get to the top, the ladder meets an entrance to a small passageway, like a pipe or a chute, which slopes up at a sharp angle. Light glints off a chain extending down, so I grab it and start to pull myself through the narrow space. It’s too tight for me to fully rise onto all fours, but I do my best to use my legs to speed my ascent.

  My knees scrape along the rough surface as I focus on the ring of light. The only place outdoors I know that’s this bright is the Hub, but it doesn’t make sense for us to be there, so this tunnel must exit into some brightly lit room.

  At the top, I push on the exit’s cover. It doesn’t budge. Burn’s heavy breaths follow behind me as he grunts and pulls himself through the chute. “Wait.”

  “Why are you following me?” I hiss down.

  He pulls himself up using the chain, unable to get onto all fours, until he’s half on top of me. The weight of his body presses against me in the tight, sloped space. “Quiet.” He pushes up until his mouth is next to my ear. “We can’t surface here. We’re not Outside yet.”

  That confirms it. We are still under Haven. If I go out, Burn won’t follow. He’s a wanted kidnapper, and based on the amount of light behind this seal there will be no hiding once I exit. Burn will go back and save Drake; he’ll have to. My brother’s right. It’s time to trust someone else.

  “Go back to Drake,” I tell Burn.

  He clamps his hand over my mouth.

  Voices drift toward us but it’s hard to make out the words. Burn’s weight lifts off me and he moves slowly back, presumably to hear what’s being said or to gauge a safe time to climb down and into the tunnel. He slides down the angled chute to the ladder.

  Still leaning against the cover, my hand strikes a spring-loaded clamp at its edge. It’s now or never. I flick the lever and the clamp releases. Falling forward out of the hole, I roll onto the surface a few feet below.

  It’s so bright I can’t open my eyes, but wherever I am, it’s dirty—and hot. Running my hands over the ground to determine my surroundings, grit presses into my palms and knees. Have I landed in a furnace of one of the factories?

  No. It’s not that hot. With my eyes squeezed shut, I try to place the sensation using only touch, but the closest I can come to the texture is our vitamin powder but that’s not right, either. I try to open my eyes a slit but they sting at the bright light’s assault. There’s no time to let my pupils adjust, so I keep my lids squeezed shut as I scramble away from the exit.

  “Your mask!” Burn shouts and something strikes my back and bounces to my side. Still on all fours and unable to open my eyes more than a slit for a split second at a time, I grope for whatever hit me. It’s my filter mask.

  “Go back and save Drake!” I yell, and shading my eyes I squint to see Burn forcing himself through the tight hole—with his mask on.

  “Put it on!” Burn yells and I finally identify the gritty substance under my hands.

  Dust. But I thought he said we weren’t Outside?

  Panic squeezes my chest, choking me. At least I hope the choking catalyst is panic—not dust. I pull the mask on and adjust the straps to tighten it over my face.

  The mask’s darkened eye shield provides a relieving break from the brightness and I turn to see the outside of Haven rising in the distance, shiny panels covering it in no discernible pattern. Between me and the dome, windmills stab up from the landscape of dust and ruins. I can’t stop staring.

  Even uglier from the outside, the so-called dome is not as domelike as it’s depicted on the Haven standard that flies in the Hub. It’s an irregular shape, curved in places, sharp edged in others. Even more unexpected, the dome has tendrils reaching out that lead to other domes and structures. Nothing matches the picture I have from inside.

  Between there and here, scraps of rubble jut out from a landscape that’s not just a vast sea of dust. Shells of ruined buildings thrust out, like broken bones reaching up through the surface. Everywhere twisted chunks of metal punctuate my view. Given how much went into building Haven, I’m surprised there’s anything left out here. That our city was salvaged from ruins has never been more obvious to me than while seeing its haphazard exterior.

  Spanning the distance, I’m slammed by the utter hopelessness of my situation; the utter failure of my plan. Comps or not, we need to go back into the tunnels. Burn grabs my arm, then pulls me against him, picking me up off the ground and trapping both my arms against my body, under just one of his. “What were you thinking?” His voice is distorted through his mask, like he’s speaking through water.

  “You said we weren’t Outside.”

  “Outside that.”

  Burn spins me and I see a huge wall in the distance. It must be fifty feet high, fabricated from concrete and steel and other materials I don’t recognize. Dust has drifted up its sides, like fingers stretching to get out.

  There’s a wall around Haven? Why? I can’t judge the distances out here. Even from the roofs of tall buildings inside Haven I’ve never seen such vast spaces stretching before me.

  The wall must be there to keep Shredders away from Haven and, given there’s never a shortage of the monsters, I shudder to think how many must be on the other side of that wall. And that’s where Burn was taking us?

  “Stop struggling,” Burn growls in my ear. “We need to get back into the tunnels before they find us.”

  “The Comps?” I didn’t realize I was struggling and let my body go slack. I almost slip from Burn’s grip as I realize who he means by they.

  Shredders.

  He drops me into the dust and it rises up in a cloud around me. I lift my hand to cover my
mouth and nose, forgetting about the mask until my fingers strike it. The heat is even worse out here than at the highest point of Haven, and I realize the heat is coming from the same place as the bright light. I look up and there’s what looks like a huge ball of fire high above us. Bright yellow, it’s hard to look at, even with the eye shield.

  “Where is the light coming from?”

  “The sun.”

  “It shines outside Haven?”

  “The real sun,” Burn says flatly.

  “Really?” I’m embarrassed by my breathlessness, the awe in my voice. But for my whole life “sun” has meant the light that reflects off the sky during daytime hours in Haven. This monstrous light, so high I can’t see what it’s hanging from, gives a new meaning to sun.

  “Shit,” Burn says and I spin toward him. He leaps ahead, practically diving for the large metal disk covering the entrance to the tunnel. Before he gets there, I hear a loud clank.

  Waiting for Burn to open the cover, I watch, stunned, as he continues to curse and kicks the door repeatedly with his boot. One kick from that boot and my back would be broken, my ribs shattered, my skull crushed.

  The hole we came out of is at the side of a concrete structure that’s low to the ground and covered by dust. Now that the dark metal door is closed, it’s hard to even make out the round shape. Burn gives up kicking and slumps down beside it.

  “What’s wrong?” I try to hide how frantic I feel.

  “It’s locked.”

  “Why did you close it?”

  He leaps up and charges toward me so quickly I fall back onto the ground, my hands stinging as they hit the dust.

  “I didn’t close it.” He looks into the distance, turning to see all around us.

  I struggle up and look, too. “How do we unlock the door?”

  “We don’t. Unless you set the spring first, it closes on a timer. There’s no way to open it from out here. Precaution against the Shredders getting in.”

  “There must be a combination, a lock.” Combinations can be broken; locks can be picked. I rush over and run my hands over the steel cover, but feel nothing on its pitted surface.

  I spin back toward Burn. “It must open.”

  “The access codes are embedded into the Comps’ gloves. We can’t open it. Trust me.”

  I don’t trust him. Not anymore. “If you knew it would lock, why didn’t you block it open? You were out last.” My breaths come too quickly and steam forms on the inside of my eye shield. My brother is down there, alone with our monster of a father and the Comps. Both want him dead.

  “You’re the one who raced off.” Burn stomps toward me. “You’re the one who opened it. You’re the one who didn’t set the spring for reentry.”

  “How was I supposed to know?” My voice is weak because he’s right. This is my fault. And I left my brother behind.

  “Look,” Burn glares down at me. “Your little stunt was reckless but it might have worked. The Comps followed us, but went past that ladder. Hector and Drake have a chance. Now, let’s move.”

  “No.” I bang on the door to the tunnel, run my fingers around its barely visible edges. “I’m not leaving my brother.”

  “You already have.” Burn grabs me by the arm and pulls, but when I resist he lets go and I fall back against the door. “Stay then!” he shouts. “I don’t care. Fifty-fifty chance whether the Shredders or Comps find you first. Good luck, either way.”

  My heart races, my brain feels oxygen-starved. I can’t think.

  Burn strides off, heading away from Haven and toward the wall. I spin back and forth, taking in my surroundings and keeping him in sight. Haven is closer than the wall and every instinct tells me to stay near the dome, near the only home I have ever known.

  Right now, Haven does not equal safety.

  Even if it did, getting there means facing Shredders—means torture and death. The Comps might find me first, but that seems a long shot, and they certainly won’t get me back to my brother.

  Choosing the devil I know, I race after Burn, stumbling over and around debris stabbing through the dust. Even though my ankle’s not as sore anymore, it takes me over a minute to catch up with Burn, and when I do, he doesn’t even acknowledge my presence.

  Drake must be scared—assuming he’s still alive, assuming our father hasn’t already finished the job he started three years ago. I can’t give up hope. I need to believe he’s alive. Until I learn otherwise, every fiber of my being will be dedicated to ensuring Drake’s survival.

  “Where are we going?” I ask Burn, trying to catch my breath. He doesn’t answer, so I grab his arm and try again. “There’s another way down to the tunnels, right?”

  “No point in going back down there now.”

  “But my brother—”

  “They’ll come out on the other side of the wall.”

  “Why go there? Where are you taking us? Where’s Drake? How will we find him?”

  Burn pulls his sleeve from my hand and trudges forward, scanning our surroundings, acting like I’m not there.

  “Where”—my voice rises—“are we going? Tell me.”

  He stops for a moment and rearranges weapons in his flared coat.

  I’m done with him holding back his plan, not telling me anything. How dare he get angry when I couldn’t have possibly known I was making a mistake? I will not be ignored.

  Turning his back on me, he starts to walk. I race toward him and jump onto his back, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck. I hang back, let my weight pull against his throat. Maybe I can choke some answers out of him. “Answer me!”

  He twists sharply and the violent movement tosses me off like a fly.

  “Please.” The desperation in my voice is humiliating. “I need to get back to my brother.”

  He stops and his shoulders lift then drop. “Hector knows where to meet us.”

  A huge noise distracts me and I spin back toward it. About halfway between us and the closest edge of Haven, something, or someone, is moving quickly toward us. A shriek rings out across the dust and the shape falls. Other shapes follow behind the first, a moving wall of black.

  “Run!” Burn yells and sets off. “Shredders!”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  MY LUNGS AND legs are on fire. I leap over a twisted and charred piece of steel, then stumble. All around and under us are pieces of the old city from BTD. Burn stops to let me catch up and when I reach him, he swings me onto his back.

  “It’s faster this way.” He runs before I can answer, and I cling to him with no idea where we’re headed. I don’t care as long as it’s away from the Shredders. The wall looks impossibly far and with no experience judging open distances, I don’t know how long it will take to reach it, but we don’t seem to be making much progress.

  To our right, a building’s skeleton rises higher than the rest of the debris. I have no guess how high this building was BTD, but steel girders and blocks of concrete rise from the dust to at least three stories, more in some places.

  We reach the ruin’s edge; I slip off Burn’s back. Gripping me around my thighs, he lifts and pushes me up above his head. “Grab it.”

  I stretch and barely snag the edge of the girder of the first floor above ground.

  “Pull yourself up.” His hands slide down to my ankles and push up as I pull with my arms.

  When my belly touches the girder, he lets go and the steel digs into my gut. I swing one leg over so I’m straddling the foot-wide beam. Burn grabs one of the vertical supports and scales it without effort, the soles of his boots walking up, while hand over hand he grips the girder’s edges like he’s walking on all fours but straight up. I can’t take my eyes off his powerful upper body as it presses back against his coat. Reaching the top, he swings onto the end of the girder I’m perched on.

  He beckons with one hand, and then walks quickly along a narrow beam of steel until he reaches a six-foot-high concrete slab. He pulls himself up on top of it. Holding onto the girder, I swing my
legs up behind me and land in a crouch. The Shredders are closer now, yelling loudly, and I wonder if they’re following our scent. Can Shredders smell?

  I stand and struggle to keep balanced as I walk toward Burn, turning at the corner and following toward the slab. The Shredders are close enough to see us now, and I hear a roar from below.

  Looking down, I expect to see Shredders but instead see a man, huge chains wrapped around him and attached to blocks of concrete. Has there been a second expunging this week? Considering the weight he’s pulling, he’s moving quickly, but his pursuers are rapidly closing the distance. He’s close enough now I can see he’s wearing a mask, a big, black one like the Comps’ wear but it’s damaged. He stumbles onto his knees, inciting another loud roar from the throng behind him as they narrow the gap.

  I should feel bad for the man but I don’t. I’m too consumed by relief at knowing that the Shredders have another victim to pursue. Maybe we’ll have time to get away while they’re distracted by ripping him apart. That the Shredders might not have even seen Burn and me is too much to hope.

  Lying on his stomach, Burn reaches down from the concrete slab and pulls me on top. Stairs head up from its side and ahead of us are the remnants of another flight down. We’re on what was once a landing between floors. The first stair below us seems relatively intact, but steel rods stick out from the second and below that there’s nothing.

  “Are we climbing up farther?” I ask. The stairs seem functional up to the landing above us and higher seems better. As far from these monsters as we can climb.

  Burn shakes his head and raises a finger to the mouthpiece of his mask.

  The man is on his feet again and about twenty-five feet from the ruin. He looks up. I think he sees us but Burn ducks down, flattening himself on the surface and I do the same. When I lift my gaze, the Shredders are on top of the man—literally. They push him face down onto the dust and four of them hold him there, their boots on his limbs. The man strains his neck to keep his face out of the dust but another Shredder bends down and rips off his mask. They all laugh as the mask is tossed aside.