The Lost City: The Palumbra Chronicles: Book Two

by L. D. Fairchild

  "I thought you might be joining us," Corporal Shamus said. "Everyone, this is Maeve Jackson. She's the only one of us who has seen a plagoran. What can you tell us, Maeve?"

  All eyes turned to Maeve, and she took stock of the small group around the table that was mostly made up of young soldiers. Maeve remembered Cleo saying she couldn't spare many people for this mission, and it appeared she had chosen the least experienced soldiers in the ranks. Five soldiers, all around Maeve's age, looked at her as if she had all the answers. She recognized two soldiers, a guy and a girl, as classmates of hers in school. Corporal Shamus was the most experienced soldier in the room, and he was probably only a couple of years older than Maeve.

  Corporal Shamus raised his eyebrows, indicating she should say something. With a start, she realized that in this group, she was the experienced one. She looked around the table once more, then walked to the map. She pointed to the red area.

  "This is where we saw the plagoran the first time."

  Corporal Shamus drew his eyebrows together in confusion. "The first time? You saw the plagoran more than once?" He shuffled through some papers on the desk. "There's no mention of that in the briefing."

  "Well, we didn't actually see it the second time, but we heard it."

  Corporal Shamus continued flipping through his papers. "Where was that?"

  Maeve turned back to the map and studied it for a moment before pointing to a spot in the desert. "Maybe in this area? It was dark, and we never saw it. But there's no mistaking its roar."

  She had Corporal Shamus's full attention, and the other soldiers were looking at her with something akin to awe. "When was this?" Corporal Shamus asked.

  "A day or two after we saw the first plagoran."

  A skinny soldier with skin pale enough that Maeve wondered if he ever went outside raised his hand. Corporal Shamus nodded at him.

  "What are they like?"

  "The plagoran?" Maeve asked. "They're big. And their skin is tough, but they're not invincible. Tristan and Gray were able to wound one with a knife. But they travel in pairs, so if you see one, be on the lookout for another one."

  Another soldier, a young woman with dark hair pulled into a bun and a scar on her cheek, raised her hand. Corporal Shamus motioned for her to speak. "Who are Tristan and Gray?"

  Maeve paused before answering as thoughts of her friends flooded her mind. Were they even still alive? She shook off the morbid thought and answered the question. "They're my friends who were out there with me. We were captured. I got away, but they were sent into The Beyond." It was a simplified version of what had happened, but she didn't know how much this group had been told about what had happened beyond the borders of Palumbra.

  The soldier's eyes widened at her response. "Are they still out there?"

  "I hope so," Maeve said quietly. "I definitely hope so." She turned back to Corporal Shamus. “Any luck with the frequencies?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe. We may have gotten a transmission from around here.” He pointed to an open space on the map. “Since we aren’t sure of the entire frequency, it’s just a guess. But it’s a place to start.”

  Corporal Shamus took over the meeting, and Maeve returned to her chair. "We have one mission." He looked at Maeve when he said it, and she wondered if Cleo had told him to keep an eye on her. "We need to find the plagoran and extract the venom from its teeth." He looked around the table, assessing his young, inexperienced team. "Let's get to it."

  ###

  Gray tied the thick rope to a large tree near the edge of the cliff then tied the other end around his waist.

  "What do you think you're doing?" Tristan demanded.

  "Going to get Ginger," Gray said evenly.

  "I'm going over the edge, not you."

  "How are you going to rappel down to the ledge and get Ginger back up here with a bum knee?" He pointed at Tristan's pant leg where the fabric was torn. "You can barely hold your own weight. There's no way you can hold Ginger's as well."

  "I should be the one to go."

  "Tristan, I know you and Ginger are close, but you can't. You need to stay up here and make sure the rope holds and Emery stays safe. Remember our training: always choose the best person for the job."

  Tristan sighed and nodded. "You're right."

  Gray clapped him on the shoulder. "Let's rescue Ginger; then we can rescue Maeve." Gray tried to push thoughts of Maeve out of his mind before they overwhelmed his ability to think.

  They walked to the edge where Emery was kneeling talking to Ginger. "She still hasn't moved. Do you think she's alive?" Gray could see the panic in Emery's eyes as she asked the question.

  Gray hugged Emery. Her face was pale, and it was clear the adrenaline she had used to climb the tree was wearing off. "She's going to be fine, Emery. She probably hit her head when she fell. She'll wake up soon."

  He nodded at Tristan, then moved to the spot they had chosen as the best option for rappelling. With a final wave, he eased himself over the side as Tristan fed out the rope and Emery continued her one-sided conversation with Ginger.

  Gray pushed off from the cliff face with his feet, praying that the rope held. He and Tristan had checked it over, but Gray worried that in their rush to get to Ginger, they might have missed a small cut or fray that could turn dangerous. He looked down as he pushed off again. His stomach lurched at the sight of how far it was to the ground, and he quickly returned his eyes to the cliff face. The small ledge where Ginger lay was the only one Gray could see sticking out from the sheer cliff face. Gray noted he had moved too far to the right and adjusted his angle of descent with the next push of his powerful legs. He swung back to the cliff face and gave one last push. His foot touched the ledge next to Ginger, but the ground crumbled beneath his toe.

  Tristan's head appeared over the edge of the cliff as Gray dangled in mid-air, his momentum stopped by his attempt to land on the ledge. "You OK?" Tristan yelled.

  Gray gave him a thumbs up. "Don't let out any more rope," Gray yelled back. "I'm going to try to swing over to the ledge."

  Tristan returned Gray's thumbs up, and his face disappeared back over the edge of the cliff. Gray stretched out his feet and leaned back as if he were on a playground swing, trying to create some momentum. Slowly, he began to swing back and forth, his arc widening with each swing. After a few short swings, he once again reached the ledge. This time, he landed his whole foot on it. He quickly brought his other foot down, but his momentum caused him to stumble. Stretching out his arms for balance, he scrambled to find a handhold on the cliff face, breathing a sigh of relief when his hand landed on a rocky protuberance and his feet found purchase on the ground below him.

  He dropped to his knees next to Ginger, felt quickly for a pulse, letting out a whoop of relief when he found one, beating steadily. He examined her for obvious injuries besides her oddly bent right leg. Besides a bump on the back of her head, he didn't find any other external injuries. He could only hope she wasn't bleeding internally.

  "Ginger." He shook her gently. "Ginger."

  Tristan's head appeared over the edge of the cliff once again. "How is she?"

  "She's alive but unconscious. I can't wake her up."

  Tristan turned his head and yelled, "Emery, she's alive." Turning back to Gray, he said, "How are we going to get her up?"

  Gray eyed Ginger's leg and wished Maeve was beside him. Beyond some basic first aid, he didn't have the training to deal with injuries, and Ginger's leg looked like it needed more than basic first aid. Standing, he began to untie the rope from around his waist.

  "What are you doing?" Tristan asked.

  "Give me a little more rope."

  Tristan disappeared, and the rope went slack in Gray's hands. Tristan's head reappeared. Gray peered up at him, trying to judge his strength.

  "Can you lift both of us at the same time?"

  Tristan assessed them. Together, they would weigh close to 300 pounds. He shook his head. "Even with Emery's help and using a
tree for leverage, I don't think so."

  Gray nodded. "That's what I thought. I'm going to tie the rope around Ginger. If I can't get her to wake up, it's going to be difficult to raise her to the top without hurting her even more."

  Tristan grimaced. "What choice do we have?"

  Gray looked at Ginger's prone form. "None. Let's get it done."

  He took the rope and fashioned it so two lengths of rope hung from a central knot. Gently, he slipped one length of the rope under Ginger's shoulders, brought it around and tied it at her sternum. He gave the rope an extra tug to make sure it was tight. He tied the other rope around Ginger's hips, in the hopes that the two ropes would keep her more stable as she rose and limit the chance for more injury. As he slipped the rope under her hips, Ginger groaned. Gray moved quickly to her head, ignoring the ground at the edge of the ledge that crumbled under his foot.

  "Ginger!" Gray lifted her head as she let out a weak cough. Her eyes fluttered open, and her face contorted with pain. She raised a hand to her head.

  "Ooh. What happened?"

  "You fell. I think your leg is broken."

  Ginger strained to look at her leg. "That might be why it hurts. What happened to my head?"

  "You must have hit it when you fell."

  She slowly lowered her head back to the ground and closed her eyes. "Emery?"

  Gray jerked his head toward the top of the cliff even though Ginger couldn't see him with her eyes closed. "At the top with Tristan."

  Ginger opened her eyes again, squinting against the sunlight. "That's kind of a long way up. Do you have a plan?"

  Gray nodded. "It's not a good one."

  "I assume it has something to do with the rope?" Her eyes followed the rope to where it vanished at the top of the cliff.

  "It's a better plan now that you're awake, if that helps."

  "I don't know how much help I'm going to be."

  "You can do this, Ginger. You have to. It's the only way off this ledge." His eyes scanned the edge of the ledge where the ground had crumbled away.

  "Tristan can't lift both of us, so you're going to have to go up on your own. If you can grab the rope, it will be much easier than lifting you unconscious. But it's going to hurt. I'm sorry."

  Gray quickly fashioned the second length of rope into a loop. "You can sit on this and hold onto the rope as Tristan pulls you up. Ready?"

  "No, but I don't think I have a choice. I'm not sure I can stand."

  He helped Ginger to a sitting position and tried not to worry as more ground fell away from the edge of the ledge. "I'm going to put my arms under your arms and pull you to your feet."

  "What's going on down there? Are you ready?" Tristan's head appeared once more at the top of the cliff. His face broke into a smile when he saw Ginger sitting up. "Ginger! Fine time to take a nap."

  She gave him a weak wave. "I knew you had it under control, and I was tired."

  "What's your plan?" Tristan asked Gray.

  "When I give you the signal, raise her up." He placed his hands under Gingers armpits and lifted. She cried out as her injured leg protested the change in position. "Sorry, Ginger. This is the only way."

  "Hey, Ginger," Tristan yelled. "Quit whining and let's go."

  "Quit whining," Ginger muttered. "I'll give him something to whine about."

  "He's just trying to help," Gray said as he carefully maneuvered her body into the loop that was serving as a seat for her. "If he makes you mad, maybe you won't notice the pain as much."

  "I know. It's not really helping, though."

  He gave her a sad smile. "I know. Sorry Maeve isn't here to mend the break."

  "Let's just get this over with."

  Gray nodded and gave the rope a final tug then placed Ginger's hands around the rope. "Hold on tight and try to protect that leg."

  She nodded.

  "OK, Tristan. She's ready." He gave Tristan a thumbs up, and Tristan's head disappeared once again. Emery's head popped over the edge instead. Gray could hear Tristan admonishing Emery to be careful.

  "Hi, Em," Ginger said gamely.

  "Are you OK?"

  "I banged up my leg and head, but I'll be fine."

  "OK. Tristan is going to pull you up now."

  Ginger nodded and closed her eyes, bracing herself as the rope tightened and she started to rise off the ledge.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Maeve watched Rufus trot on the path in front of her and wished for a hovercar. Her body, still weak from the virus, protested the prolonged march to find the plagoran. The others walked ahead of her, and she took stock of the group. Corporal Shamus led the group, his back stiff, and his eyes scanning the area around him. She wondered how he was dealing with the loss of his team in the desert and if any of that team had been on Arabella's payroll. How many more traitors were in their ranks?

  Maeve set that worry aside as something for John and Cleo to worry about. She had her hands full. Her gaze traveled from Corporal Shamus to the youngest member of the group, Private Thompson. At 16, he was just old enough to have started his career training. Tall, thin and lanky, he hadn't yet achieved the filled out look of most soldiers. His wide eyes stood out from his olive-toned skin as he took in his surroundings. Judging from the look of wonder on his face as they reached the outskirts of Palumbra, she didn't think he had ever left the city before.

  Next to him, marched Private Campbell, a short, stocky, dark-haired girl of 17. What she lacked in size, she made up for in personality. During the meeting, she had not been shy to speak up and voice her opinion about their plan. Even now, she was saying something Maeve couldn't catch to Corporal Shamus; Maeve thought she was probably still trying to tell him how to lead the expedition.

  Directly in front of Maeve and Rufus marched the pale, skinny soldier who had questioned Maeve during the meeting. She knew him slightly as they had been in the same grade at school. Private Allen was not much taller than Maeve; he looked as if a strong wind could blow him over. His eyes flitted nervously, scanning the area around him as if he expected a plagoran to jump out of the trees and attack. Something about him reminded Maeve of Silas. She only hoped he was half as brave as Silas had been.

  The last soldier in line was Private Javan, the girl with the tightly wound bun and the scar on her cheek. Maeve thought her first name was Amelia. Other than Corporal Shamus, she was the only one who held her gun like she had ever fired it before, and she walked with a quiet confidence on nearly silent feet. Maeve wondered how she had come by the scar since she knew it hadn't been there when they had been in school together.

  Private Javan dropped back to walk with Maeve, keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings.

  "Tired?" she asked quietly.

  Maeve nodded.

  "But too stubborn to stop?"

  Maeve nodded again. Private Javan looked Maeve over from the top of her head to her toes then shook her head. "You know, if I was going to pick someone from our class to save the world, it wouldn't have been you."

  Maeve gave her a small smile. "Amelia, right?" Private Javan nodded. "Me neither."

  "How did you end up here?" Amelia gestured to the woods around them.

  "Just lucky, I guess." She nodded toward Amelia's scar. "How did you get the scar?"

  "Just lucky, I guess," she said with a smile as she echoed Maeve's words. She sobered. "I got it fighting against the WG. Just because their weapons didn't work didn't mean they forgot how to fight. One of them got me with a knife."

  "I'm sorry."

  "Don't be. I hit him with a mean right cross. He fell like a brick." Amelia smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.

  They walked on, Amelia slowing her steps to match Maeve's pace. Only Rufus's snuffling in the brush at the side of the path broke the silence.

  "Have you ever killed anyone?" Maeve wasn't sure what prompted her to ask the question.

  Amelia shook her head. "I hope I never have to. I didn't become a soldier to kill other people."

  Mae
ve gave her a quizzical look. "Then why did you become a soldier?"

  Amelia shrugged. "The WG told me I had an aptitude for it and placed me to be part of the army. When the new government gave us all a choice, I decided to stay. It's not about killing other people. It's about standing up for what's right and protecting the people I love. We do so much more than just fight."

  "I know," Maeve agreed. "Gray is always talking about the ways the soldiers are helping to rebuild Palumbra." She motioned to Amelia's gun. "I hope you never have to use that."

  "Me too," Amelia said. "But I know how to defend myself if I have to."

  Amelia scanned the forest around them as Corporal Shamus turned them onto a different path. "Why don't you carry a gun?" she asked without looking at Maeve.

  "I don't like the result when you fire one."

  "But don't you want to be able to protect yourself?"

  "There are other ways to protect yourself." Maeve paused. "I killed a man, a boy, really, during the fight with the WG. I'm finally coming to terms with that, but I don't ever want to do it again. So, I choose not to carry a gun."

  "But aren't you scared to be out here without one?" Amelia asked, still scanning the area around them. They had reached the lake at the edge of Palumbra. The river ran for a few miles, then the desert began.

  Maeve shrugged. "I've been out here before without one. I survived. Hopefully, I can do it again."

  Amelia was saved from responding to Maeve by Corporal Shamus's order to gather around. They formed a loose circle with Corporal Shamus at the center.

  "OK, we're approaching the area where Maeve said they encountered the plagoran and where we may have picked up its signal. We'll take a 15-minute break here before we head out. Keep your eyes and ears open for any sign of the plagoran − tracks, broken branches, anything that looks like a large creature could have done it. Any words of wisdom, Maeve?"

  "Do your best not to kill them, please."

  Corporal Shamus raised his eyebrows. "How do you expect us to get the venom from its teeth? It's not like it will just give it to us."