by Zaide Bishop
“I didn’t say her,” he said.
“I’m not as agile as I was. You’ll want her here if something goes wrong,” Charlie said calmly.
Ross grunted, and Tango said nothing. She had been studiously avoiding the scientist since they arrived. Charlie wasn’t entirely sure why—though she suspected it had to do with the things they had found together in Eden. The answers they had found had not been the ones they were looking for. The brutality and arrogance of the world before had been a shock. The way the scientists had experimented on them, killed them, cloned them and replaced them as if they were less than animals had been a hard truth to swallow. Not as hard, perhaps, as the knowledge that their escape had killed others, children too young to leave the labs that they had never known were there.
Ross directed them into the narrow trails between the trees. It was shady here, but the air was still, and Ross was not moving with due caution. Stomping around in thick undergrowth was the best way to be gored by one of the increasingly rare boars.
Tango touched Charlie’s arm, pointing silently through the trees to a narrow trail between some rocks on the rise above them. Charlie paused, waiting for her eyes to pick up what Tango had already seen. Then she gave a little hiss of surprise, rushing forward and catching Ross, motioning for him to be silent and still.
The lioness slunk through the undergrowth—only visible as she passed in front of the greener pockets of growth. She moved with an uncanny smoothness that made her almost invisible. Perhaps Charlie might not have seen her at all, but she was not alone. Treading in her paw prints, between her legs, bumbling and clumsy, were cubs. Three, that Charlie could see. All the same tawny brown, but lacking the grace that tricked the eye into gliding over them.
They were still young—no larger than puppies—but capable of following her, maybe for the first time, to a new den.
In the summer, in the height of the desperation, Charlie had spent many, many hours frozen in a glade only feet from a lioness, waiting for it to decide if it would kill her. It hadn’t; instead, it had shown her the way to the bat colony and the millions on millions of roosting bats that had saved the Elikai and Varekai from starvation.
This was the same one. Charlie had memorized every detail of its face in those long hours. Her chest swelled with a sort of misplaced pride. Had the lioness been pregnant too when they had faced off in the glade?
The double click of the gun cocking turned her gut to stone.
“What are you...?”
The gun was only a few feet from Charlie when it fired, and the shot was like a physical blow, sending her down to her knees. She heard Ross whooping over the ringing in her ears and felt Tango’s hands on her shoulders.
The lion cubs scattered in a panic as Ross barged through the undergrowth toward their mother. Charlie scrambled to her feet in time to see the lioness was still alive—a bloody, sucking wound in her chest. She was trying to drag herself away up the path, but as Ross drew closer, she turned to him and snarled.
The second shot made Charlie flinch. She could feel Tango’s chest against her shoulder and the hot rush of her rapid breathing.
Jubilant, Ross barged over to them again, gun waving lackadaisically.
“Give me that knife, would ya?”
When Tango didn’t respond, he simply took it from her, wading through the undergrowth back to his kill. Those dead gold eyes seemed to be looking right at Charlie. Devoid of life, but still holding one last accusation.
You gave me the moon.
Charlie wanted to do something, say something, anything to make the atrocity stop. But when Ross started cutting, she had to look away.
* * *
Two days had passed since Ross had shot the lioness. They’d returned with Ross blood-soaked and carrying the pelt over his head like a prize. Charlie had been pale, and Tango had slipped away without a word. Whiskey hadn’t seen her or Xícara since—though their beds still seemed to be slept in.
Construction had been put on hold for a day. Instead they’d made another trek out to the reef and scored another haul of goods from the shattered ships. The scientists were useless in day-to-day life, but on the skeletal wrecks of the world before, they were adept at scrambling to and fro, pulling up bits and things the Varekai would probably have dismantled for parts. Instead, the scientists tweaked them and pushed buttons and flipped switches, and suddenly the enigmatic equipment was working again.
With the clear skies, the solar outboard motors were humming along well, and after a full day of effort, a wide blue tarp on the beach was stacked with all manner of gear.
Whiskey had gone too—not to help, but to supervise. Early in the day, Mike slipped on one of the older, larger wrecks and was paddled back to shore with a nasty, bloody puncture in her foot. (Paddled, not ferried by the canoe with the motor, because Ross had not wanted to unload and reload the gear to take her back in.) Kay had insisted on a tetanus shot, which she had dug from her own medical supplies. Now Mike’s whole leg was paralyzed; not from the wound, but the injection site, in her right buttocks. Kay insisted it was normal, that it would only last a day or two, but a day or two of being unable to hunt or flee from danger could become unexpectedly terminal. Particularly for someone like Mike, who was not always inclined to make sensible decisions in the first place.
Whiskey was starting to suspect more sinister motives. She was still not in top form after having the baby, and now Mike and Tango were effectively out of action. The Elikai still had Maria and Xícara, but like Whiskey, Fox was distracted by Raven, and while Nab and Zebra were part of the hunting team, they were not hulking, alarmingly strong monoliths like their brothers.
It seemed likely, to Whiskey at least, that soon Xícara and Maria would come down with a mysterious bug. She considered telling Charlie and Sugar—but Charlie was not quite herself after seeing the lioness shot, and Sugar was deeply enamored of the scientists’ technology.
“I have to insist!” Kay’s voice rose, and Whiskey glanced over to see the scientist once again dogging her mate and child. “For her own good. Let me do a physical.”
Whiskey didn’t hear Fox’s reply, but she could read his body language—tight and hostile. His broad, flat chest seemed to curve inward, their baby daughter held protectively in his arms.
Irritated, Whiskey stalked over. She took a hold of Kay’s shoulder, pulling her back a few paces and turning her to face her. Kay massaged her shoulder when Whiskey released her, wincing in pain.
“Don’t ask again,” Whiskey said flatly.
Kay bristled. “I’m not asking. I’m telling you. That baby needs a physical. This is getting ridiculous.”
“She doesn’t need anything from you,” Fox said tightly. “Not your goat milk. Not your paralyzing injections. Not any of your strange devices. We don’t want your advice.”
“You’re going to bloody well kill her,” Kay said. “You’re going to accidentally drop—”
Whiskey slammed her fist into Kay’s jaw. The older woman crumpled like a weed. The look of raw shock on her face was almost comical, as if she’d never taken a punch before. Whiskey felt a moment of smug satisfaction. She hadn’t known how good that was going to feel.
Then Jacobs slammed into her. She wasn’t expecting it, and she almost lost her balance. She spun around to face him, but he wasn’t alone, and Ross grabbed her arm.
“Hey!” Fox snarled, moving to her defense. Jacobs threw back his elbow and missed Fox completely; instead he slammed Raven in the ribs. Raven gave a pained wail of distress, and Fox doubled around her protectively.
Whiskey gave an incoherent snarl and lashed out, fist connecting with Jacobs’s throat. He gasped, eyes bulging, and Ross grabbed at her again, trying to pin her arms behind her back. Around them, the camp was a flurry of movement as the Kai moved to Whiskey and Raven’s defense, but then Kay was on
her feet again and waving a gun.
“Stay back! Everyone stay back!”
Jacobs came up with a rock and slammed it into Whiskey’s middle. She felt a lower rib crack and gave a grunt of pain. But that moment of disorientation was enough, and Ross yanked her arm up behind her back. Pain flared in her shoulder, and she felt the socket ready to disengage.
Fox was wide-eyed, horrified. In his arms, Raven was screaming.
“Run,” Whiskey hissed at him. Ross forced her onto her knees, and Jacobs came at her, kicking her hard in the chest. “Run!”
She could see the indecision in Fox’s eyes. Then his resolve hardened, and he nodded once before sprinting for their tent. He grabbed his spear and a fur and took off for the trees, Raven still squealing in his arms.
“Stop!” Kay yelled after him. She took a few steps, but Maria was there, blocking her path. Whiskey waited until Fox was out of sight before fighting back. She could still escape, if she was fierce enough. But then she felt the cold metal and the click of the handcuffs.
Still, she wasn’t going down without a fight. She gave a cry of rage and lashed out with her teeth, her elbows and her feet. If they wanted her subdued, they would have to beat her bloody.
They obliged.
* * *
Fox ran through the trees. He could hear Whiskey’s keening behind him, and it cut through him like a blade. With every step, it felt as if parts of him were tearing away, pulled loose in tattered shreds by her cries and fluttering down in his wake.
In his arms, Raven was hiccupping and squeaking miserably. He couldn’t stop and check if she was badly wounded. The blow to the ribs would be all Kay needed to insist she be allowed to care for Raven. He silently begged Raven not to cry, needing her to be silent until they were too far from the camp to be heard.
A shadow broke free, falling into step with him as he raced through the trees. It was a demon—black as pitch and clicking and rattling like bones as it moved.
“India.” He was unable to conceal his surprise. “What are you doing?”
“Going with you and Raven.”
“Why? What about Tare?”
“He will be my eyes here. You need me. I will help you catch another goat and keep hidden.”
“If I stay, Kay will take Raven.”
“I know. Quickly. This way. I know a place. There are dark corners on these islands. There are places not even a man with a gun will follow us.”
He nodded. His vision was blurring with tears. Whiskey—how could he leave her? What would they do to her back there? He hadn’t understood how hard this choice would be—how hard it must have been for Charlie when she had to choose between her unborn child and Sugar. He wanted nothing more than to run back, take up his spear and free Whiskey, whatever the cost. Life was not that simple, and heroic, foolish acts had a tendency to end the same, miserable way.
Raven needed him. And if anyone could look after themselves, it was Whiskey. At least he hoped so, because while he was here, his heart was still back there with her.
* * *
“Jesus Christ, Tony, you can’t do this!” Vivian was leaning awkwardly on his crutch as Jacobs and Ross clipped the padlock into place, securing Whiskey to the tree trunk. Her hands were bound behind her with handcuffs, and the keys were now around Kay’s neck.
Kay, who still had the gun and was keeping the rest of the tribe at bay.
Whiskey’s left eye was already almost swollen closed, but she could still see the expressions on her kin. Their fear, their horror. Sugar had already tried to demand her freedom, and Jacobs had told him he could shut up or join Whiskey. The tension was palpable, and Whiskey rolled a mouthful of her own blood across her tongue.
Spare the broken rib, they were surface wounds. Bruises, mostly. A small sacrifice, now that Fox and Raven were safe and the tribe could now see what these scientists really were. And how they needed to be dealt with.
“For Christ’s sake, shut up,” Ross said. “That bitch is mad. She’s going to fucking kill someone unless she’s chained up. When she’s calmed down, we’ll let her go. This is the Cannibal Holocaust version of a drunk tank.”
“She’s a new mother. You beat her within an inch of her life, now you’ve chained her to a tree? This is insane. Kay, tell them this is insane. This needs to stop right now.”
“It’s just for tonight,” Kay said, impassive.
“She needs medical treatment! Kay!”
The other three ignored him, and he watched them with the same helpless horror as the Kai. When the others walked away, Vivian crouched awkwardly in front of Whiskey, broken leg sticking out at an angle.
“It’s just until tomorrow, okay? I’m sorry. Just...wait until morning.”
Whiskey said nothing. And she wasn’t even remotely surprised when the sun rose and she remained where she was.
* * *
The mood in the camp had turned sullen and fearful. Ross and Jacobs now dictated who would leave the camp and when, and Charlie and Sugar had no leverage to oppose them. Most of the Kai’s weapons had been taken and were being stored together in one of the tents. They were doled out one at a time to the hunting party. Construction work had practically stopped on Pinnacle Island, as the scientists rose from sleep several hours after dawn, then took more than an hour to eat and prepare, so work wasn’t even starting until mid-morning and the best, heat-free hours were wasted.
It felt like everyone was holding their breath, waiting for things to get worse. There was no word from India or Fox. No one had heard Raven crying.
Periodically, Vivian would protest that his companions should release Whiskey, but he had no leverage in the debates. The Kai kept her as comfortable as they could, given the circumstances.
It was time for the evening meal, and Dog didn’t remember ever being so pleased that night was falling. Another day hauling rocks in the worst of the heat had left him aching and dehydrated. Sometimes there was no greater blessing than sleep.
Vaca settled in beside him on the ground, offering him a clay bowl of fish-and-turtle soup. It had been bubbling away all day and now had begun to cool, forming a jelly-like paste with a heavy offal smell. Dog flashed him a grateful grin, and together they began to eat, enjoying the easy companionable silence that had fallen between them.
“While you’re gathered...” Kay got to her feet. She and the other scientists insisted on grilling their fish. Dog had yet to see them eat any kind of offal either and wondered how long it would be before they started to suffer for their limited diet. “I thought I’d tell you about marriage.”
Dog gave Vaca a questioning look. He shrugged in reply. A new term for both of them, then.
“Marriage,” Kay continued, “is a vow between two people. A promise they’ll protect each other and be together until they die.”
“Plenty of us have that already,” Tare said, mouth full of food. His demeanor was deceptively calm. Almost too relaxed.
“Marriage makes it official. In front of the whole tribe,” Kay said patiently.
Tare nodded. “Yes. We just call it love.”
“Love, dear boy, is not always enough. Marriage is a binding contract. It comes with rules, responsibilities and punishments when those criteria are not met. Toward the end of civilization, the laws of marriage got a little lackadaisical. There were too many people, so it didn’t matter so much if couples had children or not. But now things are back to how they were when the concept was introduced. A world barren of people. A world where reproduction and the protection of family values are critical to the survival of human genetics.”
“Marriage...helps make babies?” Tare looked doubtful.
“Exactly,” Kay said, pleased. “There are four key elements to the success of marriage. Firstly, it should be desirable for everyone—a goal that every member of societ
y aspires toward. Secondly, it should be between a man and a woman, so that viable offspring are produced.”
Vaca stiffened beside him. Dog glanced over to see his friend was pink-cheeked, jaw working. It took him another moment to realize that Kay was staring at them. Once she had met Dog’s gaze, she smiled and continued.
“Thirdly, it must be monogamous, so there is no doubt of the children’s parentage, and fourthly, failure to meet those conditions within the community should be punished with ostracism.”
Mike frowned, propped awkwardly on her side as she ate, as she was still unable to sit normally since her tetanus injection. “But...what if we don’t want to have sex with the same person over and over?”
“Being easy has never been a virtue, Mike,” Kay said.
On the far side of the fire, Sierra and Yankee got to their feet, slinking away through the tents. The two Varekai had been monogamous since long before India and Tare had discovered the true nature of the Kai. With a sinking feeling, Dog realized perhaps he and Vaca should do the same...perhaps the ostracism was supposed to begin immediately.
“In fact,” Kay continued, “with a little planning, we could have a mass wedding this week. We already have one little bastard somewhere on the island. It would be a shame to make it two.”
“I don’t know what a bastard is,” Dog murmured to Vaca.
He shook his head. “Me either...but I don’t want to hang around and find out. Why aren’t Sugar or Charlie saying anything?”
Dog glanced at them, huddled together with their food. Ross was sitting behind them, his pistol gleaming as he polished the barrel with kidskin.
“I think they’re saying all they can.”
Chapter Nine
Charlie hiked up to the pass, pausing to crouch down between two rocks. Despite the early hour, the flies were buzzing around her in an increasingly thick swarm, drawn by the scent of snake flesh and entrails. She’d left the camp while it was still dark, promising Sugar she would be back soon. She hoped her absence would not cost him too dearly when the scientists woke and found her missing.