The Lost City: The Palumbra Chronicles: Book Two

by L. D. Fairchild

  "But I do."

  Maeve shook her head. "You don't. Not really. You wouldn't have jumped down my throat if you thought I could make decisions on my own."

  Gray started to speak, but she stopped him with a look. "Gray, I'm not fragile. I have things I'm trying to work out, but I'm not going to break, and I'm not going to jump head first into trouble just because it's there. You have to trust me to figure things out and not always rely on you."

  Gray took a step toward her. "Maeve, I think you're one of the least fragile people I've ever met. Look at all you've come through − the betrayal of your parents and overthrowing the WG." Maeve noted that he didn't mention the soldier she had killed. "You're strong and brave and usually level-headed. But you've been through a lot. You're trying to work through a lot, which means you might not be thinking everything through."

  Maeve took a step back. Her voice rose. "Do you really think I didn't think that situation through? Do you really think I didn't know how much damage that plagorathing could have done to me and Emery? I knew, but I couldn't look into that girl's eyes and tell her I didn't care enough to try to save it. Could you?"

  Gray scuffed the dirt of the riverbank with the toe of his shoe. "Maybe not," he allowed. He looked up and met her eyes. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. Will you forgive me?" he said simply.

  Maeve eyed him warily and finally nodded. "Yes. Will you try to trust my judgment?"

  Gray nodded without saying anything else. Maeve turned to finish climbing the bank back to the others but stopped and slowly turned back around. She held her hand out to Gray.

  "Together?" she asked. He took her hand and intertwined their fingers. "Together."

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Maeve watched as Emery looked over her shoulder. The desert stretched as far behind them as it did in front of them with no seeming end in sight. Small groupings of plants appeared every so often, but they hadn't seen any living creatures other than the small desert lizards since they had left The River. Emery wiped a trickle of sweat off her cheek as her shoulders slumped from the weight of her pack, and her feet began to drag. "How much farther?"

  Ginger rolled her shoulders and put a hand on her sister's lower back, giving Emery a little extra help to propel herself forward.

  "I don't know," Tristan replied from the front of the group. He had the map gripped in one hand and a compass in the other. "I feel sure we should have picked up the tracks of the government group by now. It's really odd."

  Maeve tugged the band holding her hair back out of her ponytail and piled her hair on top of her head, quickly securing it with the same band. "Could they have taken a different route?"

  "Maybe?" Tristan said. "But this is the most logical option."

  "Maybe they didn't want to be this exposed and decided to take a route with more cover," Gray suggested.

  Ginger held her arms wide and turned in a circle. "Where? It's a desert. There isn't much cover anywhere."

  "What about over there?" Emery pointed to where the sun was beginning to set in the west.

  Ginger quit spinning in circles and stepped next to Emery, her eyes following Emery's finger. "What is that?"

  Tristan cocked his head to the side and squinted. "Looks like a few trees. Maybe there's water as well. I'm getting close to empty." He held up his canteen and shook it then started toward the shadow of what could be trees on the edge of the horizon. With the sun blazing from behind the shadows, it was hard to make out what they were exactly.

  "Wait," Maeve said. "What's that off to the left of the shadows?"

  Gray raised his hand to his forehead to try to block the sun and peered toward where Maeve was pointing. "Is that a dust cloud?"

  Tristan nodded. "Looks like it, but it seems to be headed away from us, not towards us. Could be the wind or it might be another group of people. It might be the government patrol, but we should still be careful." He once again started walking toward the shadow of what might or might not be trees.

  Ginger dropped back to walk next to Maeve. "What do you think?" she asked. She spoke so softly Maeve had to lean closer to hear her.

  "About what?"

  "About all of this. No sign of the government patrol or the group sent out to find them. From what Corporal Shamus told us, I feel like we should have found the patrol and The Hub survivors by now, and we definitely should have run into the government group that was sent out to find them."

  Maeve stared at the ground in front of her. "I agree, but this desert is big. Maybe they moved on or maybe they took a different route."

  "Or maybe there's something wrong," Emery said as she came up behind them. "Look!"

  Maeve jerked her head up to see a figure separate itself from the shadowy trees ahead of them and begin moving toward them. Gray, Ginger and Tristan reached for their guns. Maeve pulled Emery forward until she was sheltered between Gray and Tristan in front and her and Ginger in back. She reached for the knife she had strapped to her waist after the encounter with the plagoran but hesitated to pull it out. She could see Tristan and Gray frantically searching the area for a place to hide as the figure made its way toward them. Maeve just hoped it wasn't another plagoran.

  Blinded as they were by the sun behind the figure, Maeve couldn't tell its shape until it got closer. She sucked in a breath then let out a relieved sigh. "It's a person."

  "Don't be too relieved," Ginger said. "Some people are worse than plagorans."

  Gray and Tristan stopped in front of them, forcing them to stop as well. "Who is it?" Maeve asked.

  Gray shook his head without taking his eyes off the approaching figure. "No idea."

  As the figure approached, Maeve could make out the outline of a person about as tall as Gray's six feet running toward them, puffs of sand exploding as each foot hit the ground. Maeve chewed the skin on the side of her thumbnail and shifted uneasily from foot to foot as the figure approached. With the sun still in their eyes, the person's face remained a mystery.

  "Help!" came a decidedly male voice. "You have to help us!"

  The boy skidded to a halt in front of them as he took in Tristan's and Gray's guns. Slowly, he lifted his hands. "I don't want any trouble," he panted. "We just need help."

  Now that he was closer, Maeve could finally see the boy's face. His brown eyes were wide with fear as he took a few steps away from Gray and Tristan.

  "Look," he said turning quickly in a circle with his hands still in the air. "I don't have any weapons. My sister and I just need help."

  "Stay there," Gray said. "Don't come any closer, but you can put your hands down."

  The boy was about the same age as Gray, and while they were close to the same height, the newcomer looked scrawny next to the other boys' muscular frames. His shock of curly black hair was covered with a white coating of sand from his run across the desert.

  "Who are you?" Tristan asked.

  "My name is Elton," the boy replied, lowering his hands. "My sister and I are lost out here. She's hurt. Please, help us."

  "Where is she?" Gray asked, keeping his gun trained on the other teenager.

  Elton motioned toward the trees. "Over there. I've been trying to keep her cool, and there's some water and shade under the trees."

  "How did she get hurt?" Maeve asked. Gray gave her a look that said he clearly thought she shouldn't be drawing attention to herself.

  "She tripped and twisted her ankle. I think it's broken. She's in a lot of pain."

  "How long have you been out here?" Maeve asked.

  Elton looked at the sky and chewed on his lip. Maeve could see him calculating in his head. "Eight, no, nine days, now."

  Maeve took a closer look at Elton and realized that his shirt was frayed on the bottom as if he had ripped a strip off of it. There was a tear across the knee of his pants and another at the neck of his shirt. His face had been cleaned, but there was a ring of dirt at the hairline. She noted a string of scratches on the olive-toned skin of his arm.

  "Why are you out here
is the better question. And who is with you?" Ginger asked.

  Elton frantically shook his head. "No one is with us. It's just me and my sister. I swear."

  "How old is your sister?" Tristan asked.

  "14." Elton replied. He looked at Ginger. "Please help us. What would you do if it were your sister?"

  Emery stepped from behind Tristan. "She'd already be pulling us toward those trees. But how did you and your sister end up out here?"

  Elton blinked his eyes rapidly and shook his head. "Didn't I tell you? We were running away."

  "From where?" Maeve asked, although she thought she knew the answer.

  Elton pointed off to the East in the direction of what Palumbrians were calling The Hub.

  "From Bellus. From the plague."

  CHAPTER NINE

  At the word plague, all five of the Palumbran teenagers quickly took a step backward, away from Elton.

  Elton waved his hands and shook his head. "No, no. Don't worry. We're fine."

  Gray stepped forward, motioning with his hand for the rest of them to stay back. "How do we know that? And why aren't you with the others?"

  Elton looked around with an exaggerated movement of his head that seemed a bit too practiced to Maeve. "Others? What others? It's just me and my sister. If others got away, we haven't seen them."

  Maeve stepped up next to Gray. "Are you sure? We know there were other people from, what was it you called it, Bellus out here in the desert. It's the whole reason we're here."

  Elton gave another exaggerated shake of his head. "No. No. I don't know of anyone else who escaped. Please. You have to come help my sister. Do any of you know how to help her?"

  Gray started to speak, but Maeve jumped in before he could. "I'm a nurse, but how do we know we can trust you? It seems highly unlikely that you haven't seen any of the others if you fled at the same time they did."

  "Have you seen anyone else out here?" Gray asked. "Even people not from Bellus?"

  Elton shook his head again. "I promise. I haven't seen anyone. Why won't you believe me?"

  This time it was Tristan who answered. "Because we don't know you. And it's hard to believe you didn't see anyone else since we know this was the most likely direction for our people to have gone."

  Elton threw himself to his knees in dramatic fashion. "I promise I haven't seen anyone else." His voice caught, and Maeve could see tears starting to form in the corners of his eyes. "Please just help my sister," he pleaded.

  Maeve softened. Seeing how sincerely worried Elton appeared to be about his sister, she began to think she had misjudged him. Maybe he was just a kid caught up in circumstances beyond his control. She certainly knew what that felt like.

  "OK," she said, reaching a hand down to help him stand.

  "Maeve," Gray said with a lift of his eyebrows. "Can we talk for a minute?"

  Gray moved to stand far enough away from Elton that they couldn't be heard. The others followed. Ginger kept her gun trained on Elton but listened intently when Gray began to talk.

  "What are you doing?" Gray demanded. "Not only do we not know if he's telling the truth, he could be infected with something."

  Maeve looked Gray in the eyes. "I agree that I'm a little skeptical of his story, but if he does have a sister who is hurt, we have to help. We can't just leave them out here."

  "Why the sudden change of heart, Maeve?" Tristan asked. "You were the most skeptical when he started talking."

  "Look at him." She motioned toward where Elton was brushing sand off his knees. "Whatever else he is, he is definitely a brother worried about his sister." She turned to Ginger. "C'mon, Ginger, back me up. How would you act if Emery needed help?"

  Ginger never took her eyes off of Elton. "Probably just like he did. But his performance was almost too perfect. Did you see how he turned on the tears when he thought we weren't going to help him?"

  "Wouldn't you have done that, too, if you were in his shoes?" Maeve asked.

  "Maybe," Ginger allowed.

  "So, what should we do?" Maeve asked. "I vote we help him." She held up a hand to ward off the objections from Tristan and Gray. "With utmost caution," she added.

  Tristan and Gray still looked doubtful.

  "I think we should go with him," Emery chimed in. Everyone turned to look at her.

  "Why?" Ginger asked.

  "Because if he really does have a sister and she needs help, we should help them." Maeve nodded, grateful to have at least one person on her side. "However," Emery continued, "even if he doesn't have a sister, it will give us time to learn more about The Hub, or Bellus, and start figuring out what happened there."

  "What about finding the government group and the other refugees?" Tristan asked. "Do we just give up on our mission?"

  "Said like a true soldier," Ginger said. "But maybe Emery is right. Maybe learning about The Hub from this Elton character can help us find the others."

  Tristan and Gray exchanged a doubtful look, but they both nodded. "OK," Gray said. "Let's go help this guy's sister and hopefully learn something useful. Just stay alert."

  "Tell us about your sister," Maeve said as they trudged across the hot desert sand. Sweat ran like a river down her back, creating a damp spot on her T-shirt at the small of her back. She swiped her arm across her forehead, pulled out her canteen and took a drink, noting that her canteen was less than half full.

  "Her name is Shalara," Elton said. "She's 14, and she's the only family I have left."

  "What happened to the rest of your family?" Emery asked.

  Elton turned his head toward Emery, and through the fine sheen of sweat on his face, Maeve could see the torment in his eyes. "They were all killed by the plague − my mom and dad and my two youngest siblings. They were gone almost before we knew they were sick."

  Tristan eyed Elton warily. "And you're sure you and your sister don't have this plague."

  Elton shook his head, sweat drops flinging off the ends of his hair. "We don't. Everyone who got it died quickly. We left Bellus a week ago, and neither of us have been sick."

  They trudged on in silence, the heat sapping their energy. Though the sun was setting, the heat had not yet dissipated. Maeve knew they were making progress toward the trees she had seen in the distance, but the shimmering heat of the desert made it difficult to see just how close they were. The trees seemed to swim before her eyes. The vastness of the desert stretched out in all directions, and she wondered whether the government group had found the other refugees or if they had been swallowed up into the sand-covered nothingness. It was hard to believe that Palumbra was only a day's hike behind them.

  "Are we almost there?" Emery asked breathlessly. "I'm hot. And tired."

  Ginger gave her an encouraging tap on the shoulder. "Almost there, Em. You can make it. See, it's just ahead."

  Maeve lifted her gaze from the tips of her shoes. It seemed as if the trees had suddenly moved closer and were now no more than 100 yards away from them. Reinvigorated by the closeness of their goal, she began to pick her feet up a little higher and move a bit more quickly. She took another sip from her canteen and encouraged Emery to keep moving.

  Gray slowed his stride to match hers and moved them away from the group a bit. "I want you to be really careful when you're looking at his sister's injury," Gray said.

  "Careful, how?" she asked, drawing her eyebrows together and twisting her lips in confusion.

  "We still don't know whether Elton is telling the truth, and we know nothing about this plague that hit The Hub. She could be sick and contagious for all we know."

  "Do you really think he's lying?" Maeve asked. "I mean, I thought he was a bit over the top at first, but if they've been through everything he says they have then being a bit over the top is probably natural."

  "I just want you to be careful. I don't think everything is as it seems. Tristan and I will be watching him and his sister closely. If things go sideways, grab Emery and Ginger and get out. And make sure to fill up your cantee
n as soon as we find water, just in case we have to run."

  Maeve shrugged and nodded. "Better safe than sorry, I guess."

  Gray took her hand and let the others move ahead of them then stopped and looked directly into her eyes. "I don't want us to be sorry. We've seen enough death and destruction. We don't need to see more."

  "No more death and destruction. Will that day ever come?"

  Gray gave her a quick hug and kissed her forehead. "I truly hope so, Maeve. We deserve it."

  They stood there for a moment, then Gray gave her hand a squeeze and said, "Come on. We need to catch up with the others."

  CHAPTER TEN

  Gray glanced over his shoulder for the third time as they reached the shade of the first tree.

  "What do you see back there?" Maeve asked.

  Gray shook his head. "Nothing. I keep thinking I see a shadow, but it disappears when I look back. It's probably just the heat waves playing tricks on my eyes."

  Maeve scanned the desert behind them looking for any sign of Gray's mysterious shadow. "I don't see anything."

  "Like I said, it's probably just the heat waves. I'm sure I'm being paranoid."

  "A little paranoia is probably good in this case," Maeve said with a small smile.

  Gray grinned at her. "You like them crazy, huh?"

  "A little crazy, maybe − not a lot," she said with a short laugh.

  "We're almost there," Elton announced, and the smile left Maeve's face. She took a deep breath as her stomach did a backflip. She noticed Gray and Tristan gripping their guns more tightly and swiveling their heads constantly to monitor as much of the surrounding area as they could.

  The landscape had suddenly changed from desert to shady oasis. Grass grew in clumps under their feet, and the shade from the stubby trees immediately cooled the air around them. Twenty feet in front of them, a clear, blue pool of water formed a large circle, and the breeze off the water cooled Maeve's hot face even more. Propped against a tree on the far side of the water was a girl dressed in loose white pants and shirt − at least they had once been white. Dust from the desert combined with the girl’s sweat had turned much of the garments a dirty tan color. Maeve noted the look of misery on the girls face as she moved a cloth from her forehead to the back of her neck, leaving a swath of dirt across her forehead. She looked up and waved when she saw them.