by Devon Hughes
Castor squinted back toward the desert. For the first time in a long time, he thought about his first few weeks at NuFormz, when he stayed on his own, away from the other animals. A lone wolf could reach the Greenplains in no time. He could stretch his wings and soar down the river on the wind. Without obligation, without anyone to hold him back.
And without anyone to lift him up when he was low, or share in his joy when he reached paradise. A dog needed his pack.
“We turn around then,” Castor said.
“No.” Jazlyn’s voice was high and wavering. Castor could hear the stress vibrating in just that one syllable. “We can’t just go back the way we came. Think of all that we’ve faced so far.”
Apart from everything at NuFormz, there were Crushers and Claws, zombies and humans. Snakes, Castor thought, his breath quickening.
“We were strong when we started out, and lucky. I don’t know about you, but I’m not feeling quite as lucky anymore.”
Castor had never heard Jazlyn talk like this. Despite her habit of freezing in fear, his friend was always remarkably calm, relentlessly optimistic. Something about Flicker’s betrayal had caused Jazlyn’s mask of goodwill to crack.
“You don’t want to go to the Greenplains, anyway,” Flicker said.
“Of course we want to go,” Castor snapped. The lizard was trying his patience. It was one thing to lead them so far astray, another to tell him what he felt. “I made a promise to my friends, and I’m going to honor it no matter what. You probably don’t know what that’s like.”
“It’s not what you think,” Flicker said, curling her fat green tail around herself defensively. “It’s dangerous. Even more for you than for me.”
“What are you talking about?” Castor asked.
But Kozmo rushed forward to interrupt. “Something’s coming,” she warned. She let out a screech, listened as the echo bounced back to her. “Several somethings. Fast.”
Castor squinted toward the horizon, and as the animals started to take shape, something about their movement reminded him of a past encounter.
“Laringo?” he whispered. “Again?”
Now that Castor had seen the tiger-scorpion seemingly die twice, he was starting to think he truly was invincible.
But when the animals got closer, Castor saw that it was not one, not two, but five more Laringos. Not just brothers, like he and Runt were. They were him. Each one had that same stride, the same tics, the same tracking movements, the same small smile. Same segmented tail, same white-striped fur, same icy eyes.
Clones.
The Laringo army stood on the ridge, waiting for them.
“Get Runt to safety,” Castor told Jazlyn.
“We’ll take turns flying over and dive-bombing them,” Kozmo said.
Castor nodded, but he felt uneasy. He was familiar with how Laringo fought from the Dome. He knew the tiger’s stalking stride, and could anticipate the moment the scorpion tail would rise up for the sting.
Still, though they might be able to take on one Laringo, even that was a real struggle. With an infinite number of elite fighters constantly coming at them? Castor worried they didn’t stand a chance.
Before they could even plan a strategy to launch their attack, though, Flicker started walking toward the deadly mutants.
“Where are you going?” Runt howled.
“It’s me they’re after,” Flicker said, flicking her tongue. “If I go with them, they’ll leave you alone.”
“But you’ll be killed!” Jazlyn said with alarm. Whatever her misgivings about the lizard, she had too good of a heart to turn away from her. “You can’t face all of them on your own.”
“They won’t hurt me,” Flicker insisted. “Besides, it’s time for me to go home. I wanted adventure, but I miss my family. My mom must be worried.”
“Your mom?” Kozmo asked, cocking her head.
But Flicker didn’t say anything more. She just threw her scaly arms around Runt’s neck for one more hug, and then slithered toward the white cats waiting in the dunes.
52
MARCUS WONDERED IF BRUCE HAD SEEN THEIR FILM FROM his bed in the hospital, or if his mom had. He wondered if she’d be home when he got there, ready to give him a hug or fix him some dinner.
When the doors slid open, it wasn’t his mom who was waiting for him. It was a man in black.
“The mayor is giving a speech,” he said, by way of introduction.
“Yeah . . . ,” Marcus said. “I know.”
“She invites you to attend as her guest.”
“Uh, that’s okay,” Marcus said. “I was just going to watch the stream with the City Speak.”
“The mayor invites you to attend,” the man repeated. There was something strange about his eyes. A cold dullness.
Marcus did what he was told and climbed into the back of an auto-hele without so much as telling his parents he was leaving.
Most of the mayor’s speeches were delivered in her room and projected live onto the buildings. It was mandatory to listen—or at least it was hard not to, with speakers blasting the words on every block—but there were usually no people on-site.
This was different. Thanks to Joni’s mega-clickbait-y exposé, the central square of Lion’s Head was full of people wearing gas masks, hoping to get a glimpse of the mayor and get her to answer to the accusations.
The mayor stood inside a glass box piped with oxygen so that she could remain mask-free and address the people directly as she talked. She was wearing a long green dress that made Marcus think of leaves, and her red hair was raked back into a tight bun.
Just before she started to speak, Leesa appeared next to Marcus, hustled in by another one of the mayor’s goons.
She looked at him with hope—maybe this was when things finally started to change?
Then Mayor Eris took the podium.
“In the last few weeks, there has been a lot of speculation in the media about my company and my character. I wanted to speak to you all today to set the record straight.
“I have heard the peoples’ frustrations, and I know that many of them are rooted in fear. According to scientists, in the next five years, the environment will be so damaged that people will no longer be able to breathe the air, even with a mask. As a species whose movements are already so relegated to small spaces, this is understandably concerning. Environmental stressors have made food scarce, space scarce, and have contributed to crime and serious health issues.
“This is especially close to my heart, as my own daughter suffers from an extreme sensitivity to UV rays and air pollution that puts her life at risk.
“I am most elated to report that after years of tireless research, we are working toward a cure for her condition. And it is because of this breakthrough that I am standing here before you today to make a special announcement:
“Mega Media has been keeping something secret from you. These young activists were right—the Unnaturals matches were connected to something bigger: answering Lion’s Head’s biggest environmental concerns. Using the revenue generated from ticket sales, our top scientists have been working to develop a cure for environmental intolerances.
“We are thrilled to announce that we are finally moving to human trials, and the drug will soon be available in pill form. INVINSIFY will make you feel stronger and healthier than the longest reigning Unnaturals champion. It is going to change the face of our modern world!
“Please register today if you wish to volunteer for a trial and be one of the first to experience a truly liberated existence. Thank you.”
Afterward, Leesa hung at the back of the crowd, unsure what to think. Had she been wrong? It was starting to look that way.
And did she want to be? Had she gotten more caught up in solving the mystery than saving the people?
It sounded like the mayor might actually be able to save people. How could that be anything but a good thing?
She heard the voice that made her rage and smelled the cologne that made
her gag. Antonio.
“Hey, Leesa.”
Leesa crossed her arms and looked away. She wasn’t going to make a scene, but she had made it clear to Antonio that she didn’t want to see him again. She really didn’t want to hear him say he’d told her so right now.
“I wanted to introduce you to the mayor, Ms. Eris.”
Leesa couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Here was Antonio, this Drain kid. With his stolen shoes and his ratty shirt and his accent. Standing with the mayor. Like they were friends.
“We’ve met,” Mayor Eris told Antonio.
Leesa smiled awkwardly, not knowing how to stand. She didn’t want to talk to Antonio, and she had a million questions for the mayor, and she was also kind of worried she’d get arrested for Joni’s exposé or something.
“Antonio was one of our earliest supporters,” the mayor told her. “He was instrumental in taking the program to its next stage.”
“If you want, I can show you around the facility sometime,” Antonio said.
“Is my brother there?” Marcus cut in, as if he’d been the one Antonio was inviting.
“Yes!” Mayor Eris answered, laying her fingertips on his arm. “So sorry about that misunderstanding. With his expert experience and caring manner, Peter has been a valuable addition to the team, helping the animals transition into their new environment in the Greenplains.”
“Great. When can we go there?”
The mayor laughed, like he was being cute or something. “How does now sound?”
She was probably being cute with her answer, too, but Marcus ignored that possibility. His answer was direct: “Now’s good.”
At the mention of Pete, Joni was definitely going, too. “I need to accompany Marcus as his stand-in guardian,” she told the mayor.
“The children don’t need a guardian. They have me. But you are welcome to join us if you’d like a tour. Tell me, Ms. Juniper, are you one of those method journalists? You know, the kind of reporter who feels she really has to experience a story to be able to make a genuine contribution?”
“To some extent . . .”
“Because I really feel that the community could benefit from someone of your status checking out the facilities first and reporting, so that everyone can see that what we’re doing really is going to change lives.”
“You’d give me full access?” Now this was the biggest scoop of her life. Joni looked like she might actually start jumping up and down.
“Of course,” the mayor purred. “The complete elite experience.”
53
CASTOR COULD SEE THE RATS PICKING AT THE GARBAGE IN the reeds on the bank below them. They were pink and hairless, and you could see their organs glowing through their thin, translucent skin. He thought of the dogs he and Runt had fought on the dock. He could still remember the sizzling sound the husky’s fur had made when he’d fallen in, and how the dark water had closed over the top of him, like he’d never existed at all.
But Jazlyn was looking at the toxic river water, her pink nose twitching thoughtfully.
“You know how to build a nest, right, Kozmo? And Runt, I bet you’ve found a few uses for trash in the alley before. Castor, you fly along the bank and pick up anything that might be useful. I have an idea.”
The Unnaturals’ river chariot was an abomination made of plastic and string, rain barrels and solar panels. It had a warp throne and a nutri-cube bin, and the whole thing was finished off with a sail made of a laminated poster that said MONIAC 4 LYFE. It certainly wasn’t going to be winning any beauty contests, but it stayed afloat. And once it caught the wind, the little raft could really move.
It sure was whipping today. The choppy water and fast-moving clouds suggested a storm might be brewing.
“Look out!” Kozmo screeched. “Rocks!”
They were already upon them, though, and as the sharp edges of the stones jutted up against the little raft, the animals were thrown and jerked around. Jazlyn carefully maneuvered them though the rapids.
“I miss Flicker,” Runt sighed when the waves had settled. “She was such a good climber. She could’ve scampered right up that post and been a lookout. She would’ve warned us about those rapids.”
“She didn’t warn us about anything else, did she?” Castor growled.
But Jazlyn, who had been angriest about Flicker’s betrayal, now had a softer response. “Would you have listened? Would any of us? Maybe it’s a good thing we didn’t go straight to the Greenplains. Maybe it was better to let the dream live for a bit longer, to be prepared for . . . something less than paradise.”
“I feel like at this point, I’m prepared for almost anything,” Castor said with a laugh.
“What’s that?” Jazlyn asked. Their first mate had gone into freeze mode—something else had scared her stiff.
Now what?
A pale pink blade sliced through the water. Then another.
“River sharks,” Kozmo whispered.
“How?” Castor gasped. He thought of the water closing over the husky with a sizzle and a burp.
“The Yellow Six used to talk about natural mutations. Sometimes you just adapt to what the environment throws at you.”
There was frenzied thrashing, making the raft rock, but the water was too dark to get a clear view of the shapes of the creatures lurking beneath.
Until one jumped up, arcing out of the water in a fantastic leap. Its nose was long and pockmarked. The teeth were serrated. Its eyes were gelatinous lumps dangling from its head.
Though it was hideous-looking, Castor was considering how Pookie would’ve been impressed with the acrobatic feat, when the shark crashed back into the water, taking a bite out of the raft on its way down.
The crew scrambled to shift their weight and redistribute sections of the raft, but they couldn’t move fast enough. The sharks were swarming, dismantling the raft, piece by piece. Soon, their powerful jaws would be biting into Castor and his friends.
“Don’t eat us!” Runt begged. “Please!”
The thrashing stopped momentarily, and below one of the pink fins, a concerned face bobbed out of the water.
“Eat you?” one of the sharks asked. “Why would we do that? We’re not savages!”
“Yet you’re in the middle of ripping our boat to shreds,” Castor pointed out.
The shark scrunched his pocked snout. “It’s suppertime. What else are we supposed to eat?”
Another swam over. “We feast on the garbage of Lion’s Head. Your raft is such a nice balanced meal—a little salty, a little sweet, a little plastic, a little pulpy, with that added umami of pollution. It’s delicious!” It grinned, and its rows of jagged teeth gleamed. “I especially love the sail, as I, myself, am a Moniac.”
“Oh, me too! Me too!” Runt yapped excitedly. “And guess what? This is a really good surprise for you and I know you’re going to love it and I can’t wait for you to guess!”
“Is it a karaoke machine?” one suggested.
“No . . .” Runt’s tail wagged in anticipation.
“Is it a roller skate? I do love eating anything with wheels.”
“No . . .” Runt looked to the next shark, wiggling his brows.
“I am really bad at guessing,” it said dejectedly, and its fin flopped to the side. Then its eyes lit up suddenly. “Ooh, ooh, is it a life-size statue of one of the Unnaturals stars?”
“It’s better!” Runt panted. “Some of us were real Unnaturals stars. Castor and Jazlyn were both part of Team Scratch!”
“You’re Unnaturals? Get outta here! Fellas, come here, we have celebrities on our river!”
More fins sliced toward them until the water surrounding the raft—or the raggedy scraps that remained of the raft—was dense with pale pink bodies. Pockmarked noses crowded the edges of the raft, and gelatinous, googly eyes peered up.
“Oh, wow! It really is the Underdog! I recognize the gray eagle feathers.”
“And there’s the Swift! I heard she can go so fast the tr
ack catches fire.”
“Which one are you?” a river shark asked, nudging the bushy orange tail with his nose.
“I’m just a Kozmo,” the fox-bat answered.
“Don’t worry, Kozmo. I’m sure you’ll get your big break someday.”
“Didn’t you hear?” Runt asked. “The matches are over!”
“What a tragedy!”
“It felt more tragic to see your friends get hurt and risk your life for humans’ entertainment every night,” Castor said dryly.
“But your talent was incredible!”
The awe in the shark’s voice was flattering, and Castor puffed out his chest, despite himself. While he’d never enjoyed fighting, he did like to think he’d been pretty good in the ring. He and Pookie had certainly worked hard at it every night.
“So, guys?” Kozmo said. “Sorry to interrupt, but I think we’re sinking.”
Toxic water seeped up through the bite marks in the plastic flooring. As it sloshed near their feet, a fine smoke formed. It wouldn’t be long before the chemicals in the water burned up through what was left of the raft.
The first shark they talked to cocked his head. “I feel so bad that we wrecked the traveling vessel of superstars. Where are you going? These gentlesharks and I will be happy to give you a ride.”
“Really? We’re, um, trying to get to the Greenplains?” Kozmo said it like a question—after such a long journey, none of them was totally sure they would ever reach their destination. Or what surprises and disappointments that destination might hold.
“We’re having a reunion with the rest of our team,” Castor explained. “The Enforcer and the Fearless? And maybe the Mighty?”
If they were still alive. Castor hoped saying the words aloud would make them come true.
“You’re kidding! The Fearless? The sassy Grizzly is my fave! Can you tell her Al says hello? I am totally her biggest fan.” The shark blushed. “I wept when the Invincible beat her.”
“We all did,” Castor said, sharing a meaningful look with Jazlyn. He knew they were both remembering the match when Laringo had almost killed Enza. It was the final straw after months of suffering that had made them decide to plan an escape.