by Gwynn White
A concrete plate slid into place atop the hole, sealing the rejects inside.
"That won't hold them for long. You need every second of a head start you can get. Ehli, our son is already on his way, and the rejects aren't the only predators out there."
Cullen and Ehli shared a glance, and she didn't refuse when he reached under her to lift her back into a fireman's carry, then and took off for the river bed. Where am I going?
"Ehli will show you. Find our son and bring him here before we lose him."
29
It wasn't too long ago that Ocia had carried her like this, jostling her against his chest as they ran through the tunnels underneath Setuk's prison. Now it was Cullen, carrying her under the dim sky of dusk fading behind the narrow holes in the tree canopy. Tiny black birds darted off branches above, smoothly fitting into impossible openings in the spaces between leaves.
In less than a day, she'd gone from wondering if any of the new prisoners would try and steal their food, and if Nassib would successfully watch over them in the solitary corners of the prison... to being as free as those birds in terms of walls and cells, yet just as trapped. The danger in this new territory was that it housed new predators, and the secrets of her husband's dark past.
She couldn't believe she was considering if life at Setuk was better.
"How's it going?" Cullen asked between heavy breaths. Again, he grunted in pain. He'd done that a few times in the five minutes since they ran from the tunnel leading to Willo's base.
He meant how her attempts at reaching her son were going, but she hadn't had any success. Honestly, she hadn't really tried. A strange lethargy prevented her from focusing, even as she knew she should. Above them, a new family of birds launched from their perch. Four or seven arced down toward Cullen—behind him so he couldn't see. Ehli covered her face. "Watch out!"
He spun half a turn, holding her tighter against his chest, the cold metal of his gun pressing into her cheek.
The birds squawked and then chirped happily as their calls distanced.
"Did you see something?" Cullen tilted her away from his chest, indicating that she look at him.
Ehli took a breath, then forced her eyes open. Her body jerked at the sight of Schaefer smiling down at her, dressed in a white lab coat soaked from neck to arms in someone's blood. She rolled and kicked hard enough to free herself from his grasp, then fell face first onto the ground.
"Ehli." Schaefer's voice. The tone came from more than a decade of love.
He touched her back.
She jerked away and swung a hand up to bat him off, but missed.
"Darling, please."
Why's Schaefer here? Ehli struggled to place time and location. She looked up to the forest she thought was the back twenty acres of their property. The sparseness of trees and bushes felt... odd. Not that it wasn't what she knew—she could navigate in these woods in pitch black. Something about it just wasn't right. How'd I get here?
Knees popped by her ear. "It's getting dark, sweetheart. Emmit'll be home any minute. I don't want him to worry where we are."
He was right. She missed Emmit more than usual. "How long have I been out here?"
"Oh, I'm not sure about that. But when I came in for supper and you weren't there, I started looking out here." His hand stroked the back of her hair. It calmed her. "You left the side door open."
When his hand squeezed on her arm with enough strength to suggest getting up, she didn't resist. Emmit was waiting, and she wanted to go home.
She stood and brushed the dirt off her blouse and jeans. Her favorite, well-worn outfit. Mud darkened the underparts of her link pink sleeves and her knees. Emmit will ask what I've been doing. He'll be concerned. His sweet, acne-dosed cheeks filled her mind. That wasn't right. He was young and free to run outside, not tall and tossing in his sleep, asking where his dad is.
Schaefer dusted off her back, then his lips pressed a kiss on the back of her head. "I missed you, too."
Missed you too? Why'd he say that? Not that she disagreed. She missed him as well. More than the normal, he was off at work all day, only inside to eat and then back off to his research. She needed to get home, where she would shut and lock their door.
"Come." Schaefer's hand pressed on the small of her back. "Let's go home."
Cullen helped Ehli to her feet.
"I just want to see my boy," she said, and walked on, brushing a branch out of her face. Her tone like a plea in a dream.
Schaefer? What are you doing?
He stopped Ehli with a hand on her shoulder, swept under a branch and rose to stand before her. Her breath hitched, and she raised a hand to shield her face. Cullen gently squeezed her hand. "It's Cullen. Don't let Schaefer trick you."
Her eyes blinked, and she returned to the present. "Cullen," she said, relief and worry intertwined in her voice. Whatever had just happened was over, but that it had happened made him concerned.
"Yeah. Whatever Schaefer's up to. You're here now, with me, and as much as we can," he said, squeezing her hand, "we keep this conduit flowing."
As she looked up over his shoulder, she spotted the white face of a mara watching them from a ridge ahead and to their left. Her chest seized. She looked away, but it was too late. She'd made eye contact with the tiger. "Don't look," she whispered.
"I know," he whispered back. He continued holding her hand as he turned and restarted their trek into the woods. "I saw it following us. Not the only one. If we act like we're running from them, they'll chase."
We locked eyes.
"That's okay." He climbed up next to her. Sweat darkened his hair to a light brown. He stroked some back out of his face and examined the forest behind her. "I think it's this way." He nodded for her to follow. "Come on."
The mara had left its perch. She couldn't find it in the collage of branches and colorful flowers. "If they're following, what are they waiting for?"
He took her hand again, and tugged her after him. "Don't know, but I'm not waiting around to find out."
Cullen led her through tight gaps between the trees and bushes, close enough that she never saw where her feet landed. She could only pray it wouldn't be on a snake or some animal with sharp teeth.
As they held hands, she noticed the block had lifted from his mind. It had done so when they left the tunnel, but her mind had been elsewhere. She grimaced. "What happened back there, before Willo tried cracking the case open?"
"Which part?" he asked. A branch poked him in the cheek as he looked back. He pushed it away.
"I tried 'pathing you, but your mind was blocked. I thought Willo's injection was supposed to make it easier to communicate."
"That would be your husband. He got into my head like I'd been dunked under a league of water."
"Like what just happened to me. I thought I was back home, and he was taking me to my boy."
Cullen glanced back. "What're we going to do with this guy?"
"I don't know." She didn't think she wished harm on Schaefer, but the danger he'd put herself and Emmit into was pushing her over the edge of civility.
Cullen ducked under the branch and gently pulled her on. "When he had me, I couldn't hear anything but his voice; not my footsteps, or what Willo was saying. Not until he let me hear."
That was weird. Is he a telepath?
"I don't think so," Cullen thought back. "He said he was using the neuronet. Willo said she'd blocked him from using it to communicate with them."
But it feels just like telepathy.
"He said things like, 'I don't know what you're thinking, but don't', when I was considering how to reject his offer. So it isn't exactly the same."
Wow. That's interesting. A few cold drops of water landed on her scalp as they pushed through a tree's branches. "Before I ask what the offer was, how is he able to speak to us if he isn't a telepath?"
A ribbit sounded from a yellow frog she hadn't noticed until it hopped off a branch as they passed by.
Cullen tap
ped the back of his head, above his right ear. "I haven't heard of a neuronet chip with this kind of programming. But it isn't whatever you do. More like an intrusive microphone and communication system." Cullen pushed aside another branch and stepped over a scattering of broken egg shells. "I don't know everything the chip has done to my brain since I plugged in."
Ehli thought back to her sessions with Ocia and the neuronet chair. "I'm chipped. Emmit too."
Cullen nodded. "When?"
"I got mine when I was pregnant with Emmit. Schaefer said there was research to support the chip giving its host a stronger connection to babies in the womb." Ehli shook her head and swiped away a dangling row of vines. "Now that I think of it, we put a smaller version in Emmit two days after his birth. Schaefer was adamant in his reasoning—that he was following the latest research on when and what kinds of chips to use as Emmit grew. Could this all have started even then? His plans to make us telepaths?"
The thought made her stomach queasy with revulsion that her husband could have manipulated her for so long; not only her, but also their baby.
A deep thump punctured the jungle from a hundred meters behind them.
Cullen spun, and stared back through the jungle. Ehli wasn't sure, but maybe he thought Willo's group had found a way out of the sealed tunnel. She seemed to remember something about that happening. Cullen motioned Ehli forward and picked up speed.
Ehli wished she still had her machete. Branches kept swinging back, and she was growing tired of lifting her arm to block them.
Cullen's progress and urgency nearly separated them. She followed the sound of cracking and swishing branches.
She reached out to his mind. So what do we do if he is talking to us via the net? Does that matter at this point? Is he listening?
A snake hissed somewhere under a bush near her leg. She jumped the other way and braced for a sharp sting that never came. When it didn't, and she relaxed a breath or two, she thought, no, where are you?
Cullen swung his rifle, finger over the trigger, to aim where she was looking.
"I got it," she said. A pinch squeezed across her scalp, but she pushed through the pain and centered her focus on the snake.
She knew before her next footstep landed. The hissing intensified. A wet snap whipped out from the bush hiding her scaly little friend. She caught its head a blink before the poison escaped its mouth, twisting it with her mind so that the ejection fired wide. Her control wasn't a mental hand clasping its neck at the base of its head, but control of its mind, making it move its head as she willed.
The snake trembled to remain so high up on its tail. It didn't have long to wait before Ehli stuck her hand into the bush and grabbed it behind its head. She squeezed the cool scales and muscle underneath. It gasped, fangs dripping with venom. It was the same species as the one that had bitten her face. The species Willo needed for its venom. "You're coming with me." She had the snake wrap its body around her left bicep, just tight enough to keep from slipping off.
Cullen reached for her hand.
"Not right now," Ehli said. The pinch in her head continued to strain her mental muscles, but it didn't overwhelm. Is that you, Schaefer?
"Yes, dear."
Ehli cringed at his placating tone. She played his favorite form right back. I think another of your experiments is failing.
"Oh honey, I'm afraid I won't be offering you the pleasure of meeting your expectations."
She pet the snake's head. "Go ahead, Cullen. Let's keep moving."
Oh honey, Ehli thought, laughing. I think I'm quite used to that by now.
"You sure?" Cullen asked, with a curious look. "What are you plotting?"
One minute. She flicked her hand forward in a move on gesture, but smiled to ease the concern on his face.
He shrugged, and parted some branches for them to move under.
Ehli shielded her snake's head from a passing branch.
The birds and insects were louder than usual, she thought, and kept her from hearing beyond the swish and crack of branches and sticks underfoot. Then she thought of the snake, and experimented expanding her touch to the world beyond. Her message, as she cozied up inside the minds of too many to count, was to be still and let me pass by in silence.
As the soft c sound in silence passed her mind, the jungle became hauntingly quiet.
"Are you having fun?" Schaefer asked.
By fun do you mean searching for our son in a jungle full of things that can kill him? Oh yeah, so much fun.
"Keep trying. He's softened up in the last hour. And I believe you'll both be fine, as long as you follow my directions."
30
The blue bird landed on a thin branch overhanging a five-meter bridge made of layered sticks that traversed a crevice. At this elevation, they had a scenic view of jungle to their right, and a breathtaking drop down the crevice. To their left was a towering cliff with sheer-faced boulders stacked against its base. A howl of wind shook leaves from branches, too thin to offer any assistance, growing out over the expanse. The crevice was too wide to jump, that was clear. The only way across was over the bridge, which led to a wide ledge on the far side. The only other way off that ledge seemed to be a knee-high gap between the cliff and stacked boulders.
"Seriously?" Sara asked the bird.
The bird pooped and took flight, crossing to the other side as carefree as one could when flying while others had to cross a stingy bridge. It darted left and through the low opening beneath a boulder. Emmit inhaled. So that was their route. Great.
"Come on," Emmit said, not wanting to disappoint his father. "It'll be okay."
Sara stared over the edge. Birds soared high over the trees far below.
Sprinkles looked at Emmit. He wasn't sure if the concern emanating from his wolverine was for himself or Emmit.
Can you jump? Emmit didn't think he could. The negative feeling emanating from Sprinkles confirmed his suspicion. Okay.
Emmit tested his weight on the section of the bridge supported by rock. It creaked and bowed a little, but not so much that he doubted its strength. A step took him away from the edge of the cliff and over the crevice. The fall from here would end in a heart attack before his body hit the ground.
I've been training you for this moment for years... his dad's words reminded him, and with them echoing in his mind, he drove forward. His left foot landed on a stick that creaked and bowed more than usual. No time to slow. Just go. He shifted his weight in a half step to his right and jumped.
He crossed over to the ledge on the other side and rolled onto the landing beyond. His backpack skidded on the surface, slowing him to a stop. Heart pounding, he turned to look back at Sara. Her hands were cupped over her mouth. Only a shriek from a soaring bird broke the stillness of his successful crossing. He'd done it.
Sprinkles licked his lips, shared a mental affirmation as if, in some strange reality, the wolverine had raised him from a pup and was proud of his achievement.
Emmit's blood pumped so hard, his hand shook as he pulled back the zipper to check on Dy in his shirt pocket. The gecko's big eye twitched toward him and his tongue flipped out. Sorry about that, boy. He couldn't help but laugh.
Sara dropped her hands and shook them out at her sides, focusing on the bridge. She stepped up to the edge, took a breath, then crossed quickly, taking long strides. She made it across without any haunting creaks.
Emmit grabbed her hand and pulled her onto the ledge.
Sprinkles leaned on a front paw, testing the bridge. One of the beams broke and he jumped back, spinning around as he landed free of the bridge.
"Oh no," Emmit said. "Is he too heavy?"
"Might be," Sara said.
Sprinkles backed away from the bridge.
Emmit wondered if his friend was giving up.
Then the wolverine broke into a low sprint. A few strides over the bridge, something creaked. Sprinkles leapt. Emmit watched in awe, then realized Sprinkles wasn't going to clear it. Oh no. "Grab t
he bridge!"
They grabbed the end of the bridge and yanked backwards, away from the cliff edge. A warm thermal spat dust into his eyes, forcing him to squint and lose track of Sprinkles's trajectory.
The wolverine landed on one of the horizontal sticks as it came down. The impact jerked Emmit's shoulder almost out of its socket, but he and Sara held on grimly. Sprinkles leapt again, the wood snapping as he did so, and landed on the ledge beside Emmit, safe.
Emmit's fingers ached, and he let go of his hold the bridge. It was only when Sara gasped as she let go that he realized his mistake. The bridge folded and slipped off the ledge, disappearing over the edge so quickly it was as if it had never been.
"Oh no." Emmit looked up at Sara. Dad, I—we—dropped the bridge. Is this the only way?
"I'll let them know. Cullen's resourceful."
Sprinkles led them toward the low space beneath the rock.
Emmit jogged over and ducked under, passing through to the other side. Sara shuffled under the rock behind him.
On the other side was a clear area of flat rock. To the right, it became dirt and jungle, while to the left was a high, sheer cliff face.
The familiar chirp of his blue bird sounded from a branch over an opening they could use to reenter the jungle.
The bird took wing and swooped into the forest. Sprinkles galloped after, and Emmit and Sara ran after the pair.
The terrain was flat, and the tall frames of trees, combined with less undergrowth, made this section seem adolescent compared to the prior jungle.
Emmit wondered how much his dad could be trusted to ensure that his mother didn't die, and he considered stopping to go back and wait. As he glanced back, considering a retreat, Sara took his hand and pulled him forward.
"Come on. They'll be fine."
Her words calmed him in the hope that she was right. They had a mission, and his mom and Cullen were both capable adults. If he could make it this far, they could too.
They ran on long enough for Emmit's leg muscles to tighten and his body to demand a respite. He finally gave in to the cramp in his side and slowed to rest against a thin tree. Arm up on the trunk, he wiped his sweaty forehead, breathing deeply.