Summer had a fair point. And since Belle and Dr. Carlhagen had taken the Jeep, whatever search parties were dispatched would be on foot. As long as she didn’t hear the helicopter, the ground search couldn’t be very close.
Summer put the fishing pole back and snatched up a tarp. “I’m going to lie down and take a nap.”
“No you’re not. We have to get out of here.”
Summer dropped the tarp and stared at Jacey with those huge eyes. “To where?”
Jacey scooped up the tarp. She shook it out to make sure there were no scorpions in it, then refolded it. Satisfied, she handed it back to Summer. “We’re probably going to have to sleep in the rainforest tonight. So look around for things we can use to shelter ourselves from the rain. And insects.”
“What about the boat? I can get the motor started. I know I can.”
“That’ll put us right out in the open.”
“If the helicopter comes, we’ll head to shore someplace where the helicopter can’t land.”
“We’re not taking the boat. I’m not discussing it anymore. Now look around for anything else we might use.”
Summer said nothing but made her opinion known in other ways. She poked through the junk in the shack, kicking over rusty bits of machinery, tossing metal cans, and slamming down trays filled with washers and nuts so hard the bits and pieces scattered all over the shelves.
Jacey searched with more deliberation and forced herself to project an outward serenity at complete odds with her inner rage. Only by repeatedly telling herself that strangling a Spider was poor form for a Shark did she refrain from tackling the thankless girl.
A small pile formed in the middle of the shack as she collected potentially useful items. A coil of very thin metal wire, a slender, razor-sharp knife in a carved leather sheath, a roll of rough fabric with frayed edges, and a sturdy strap with clips on each end. She didn’t have much of a plan for the items, but most were small and lightweight.
She found a pair of binoculars and two ponchos hanging from pegs behind the door. The ponchos were a thin, flimsy plastic, but they had hoods.
Summer had stopped her dissatisfied noises and stood motionless, watching Jacey and making a show of not helping.
Jacey thrust the binoculars and ponchos at Summer. “Here. Find something we can use to carry all this stuff in.”
Summer let out a final huff of dissatisfaction, then turned and began to search for real. Jacey wanted water jugs but didn’t find anything suitable. There was one plastic container, red with a strange flexible hose attached to it. She unscrewed the cap and took a sniff. “Ugh.”
Summer peered over her shoulder. “What is it?”
“I don’t know. It’s horrible.”
Summer sniffed and nodded knowingly. “That’s fuel for the motor boat you won’t let us use.”
Jacey hefted the container. She considered emptying it, but from the smell of the fuel, she assumed it would contaminate any water she tried to put in it.
“Over there,” Summer said, pointing at a white plastic jug. She made no move to get it from the high shelf it rested on.
Jacey managed to knock it down with one of the fishing poles. Dust coated the outside of the container, but a screw cap had kept the inside clean. Jacey sniffed, but it smelled of nothing but plastic. She handed it to Summer.
Jacey moved to the assorted bolts and junk on a lower shelf, stopping by the tray filled with ash. Behind it was a flimsy package. She plucked it up.
“What’s that?” Summer asked.
“Cigarettes,” she said, reading the label. An idea occurred to her, and she removed one of the slender cylinders. “Socrates said that people used to eat packaged food.”
She sniffed the object. It didn’t smell like food. And then she noticed that the stub end of it was the same as the charred ends in the tray of ash.
“Looks like something they use to start fires.” Jacey put the cylinder back in the package and noticed another object, this one oval-shaped and as long as her index finger. She pressed the black button on one end, but it didn’t do anything. She shrugged and tossed the package and device to Summer.
The girl seemed to have gotten over her most recent bratty streak and had turned her ingenuity to fashioning a backpack from the tarp and a length of rope she had found piled in one corner.
Jacey studied Summer’s invention and shook her head in amazement. Apparently, the lack of any practical application for Summer’s talents at the Scion School had kept them hidden.
Summer’s gifts shouldn’t have surprised Jacey, she realized. All of the Scions were designed to be superior to their Progenitors—smarter, healthier, better trained. Jacey’s thoughts turned momentarily to her own Progenitor, about whom she knew almost nothing other than that her name was Jacqueline. And that she was dead.
She offered Summer a nod and a smile, but the girl refused to return the gesture, instead deliberately looking away from Jacey and hefting the backpack over her shoulders.
“Let’s go,” Summer said, sighing.
They left the shack and continued down the road. A sign pointing in that direction said “Groundskeeper’s Residence.” But Jacey saw the lie in that immediately. Mother Tyeesha’s had to be in that direction. Not that they could go there. Searchers would check every building on the island first. Fortunately, the forest thickened as they journeyed west, and Jacey didn’t intend to stay on the road for long.
As they walked, they enjoyed the shade cast by the towering trees. The smells changed, became earthy and moist, heavier with humidity, and filled with the buzz and chatter of billions of insects. Jacey shivered to think of bedding down among them. She didn’t know that much about the fauna of the island beyond what she had seen around the Scion School. That was on the east end, the drier side of the island. There were lizards and mongoose there, a few birds and butterflies. Lots of mosquitoes when the wind died down. And the occasional shaddle spider.
They walked in silence for an hour, stopping only once to refresh themselves with the remaining water in Summer’s improvised water carrier. Jacey was about to suggest they turn into the depths of the rainforest when they came to a slight clearing. An overgrown pathway led to the right. It looked like the remains of an old road though grasses and brambles grew over it. But the way was clear of trees, which would make it easy to follow without getting turned around.
Even better, the old road disappeared into a denser band of rainforest, which would make them invisible to searchers in a helicopter.
A chill crept over Jacey’s skin as she took her first steps into the unknown wilds. Summer straggled after, mumbling something about the boat under her breath. Jacey thought the girl wise to keep her thoughts quiet, because Jacey’s tolerance lessened with every step.
But then one word rose from Summer’s grumbling. “Stupid.”
Jacey spun on Summer, coming nose to nose with her. “What is your problem?”
Summer stumbled back a few steps as if desperate to get out of striking range. As if Jacey would ever hit a Scion, let alone a member of her own Nine.
Jacey stomped a foot and jabbed a finger at Summer. “Why do you have to make this so difficult? I’m trying to help you.”
Summer shifted the weight of her makeshift backpack and straightened. “And why are you helping me?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do. Because I care about you.” Jacey put her hands on her hips and blew out a long breath. “But you don’t seem to appreciate it.”
“I do appreciate it.”
“Then why are you behaving like a bratty Lizard? What did I do to deserve your attitude?”
Summer looked at her feet and mumbled something.
Jacey stepped closer. “What was that?”
The girl’s head snapped up, eyes blazing. “I said because of you and Humphrey.”
Jacey closed her eyes and let out a long breath, cursed herself for not seeing what was so plain. Everyone knew that Summer was in love with Humph
rey. Before the whole island had been turned upside down by recent events, Humphrey was the only subject Summer ever talked about. It had been a sore point for Humphrey, who had been mortified by the attention.
With the senator coming and the urgency to get away rising every moment, Jacey hadn’t thought about that at all.
Summer sniffed and wiped wetness from her eyes. “Why couldn’t you just love Vaughan like you’re supposed to? Why did you have to take Humphrey from me?”
Jacey resisted pointing out that Humphrey was never Summer’s to begin with. She also bit back the argument that their feelings for Humphrey had no bearing on the current crisis involving Senator Bentilius.
Summer was fourteen, and, to her, both issues were life-and-death problems.
Jacey turned it around on her. “And why can’t you love Vaughan instead of Humphrey?”
Summer’s lips moved, but she didn’t say anything at first. She was obviously taken aback by the question. Finally, her shoulders drooped and she made a wry face. “Because Vaughan is too good, too perfect. I don’t think I deserve someone like him.” Petulance flared again, and Summer’s eyes flashed. “And neither do you.”
Jacey couldn’t argue with that. Vaughan was too perfect.
He was also dead.
Summer sighed and wiped her wet cheeks with the back of her hand. She suddenly looked like a Dolphin, small, vulnerable. Her lips trembled. After another few breaths she mastered the flood of emotion and laughed as if her own thoughts didn’t make sense to her. “Humphrey is different,” she said at last. “He’s less beautiful than Vaughan but more . . .” She shrugged, giving up her search for the right word. “I don’t know. He’s more real. You know? Like you can actually touch him.”
Jacey understood. “I’m sorry, Summer. I didn’t mean to steal Humphrey from you. But you have to understand a boy isn’t property that you can give or take. That kind of thinking is what Dr. Carlhagen promotes with the Scion School.”
Jacey risked putting an arm around Summer. She didn’t resist. “And you’re not someone who can be taken or given either. I understand you’re upset about Humphrey and me, but trust me, I don’t know how I feel about him. Yes, we’ve grown close over the past few days, but we’ve been through some really terrible things together. Let’s just focus on surviving tonight and the next day and the next and get through this.”
Summer sniffled. “I know you’re right. But still, I could never compete with you. You’re older and . . . I’ve heard the boys talking about you. I’ve seen how they look at you. Including Humphrey.”
Jacey didn’t know how to respond to that. She didn’t like the idea that it had to be a competition. They were in the same Nine, the same family. They should be able to support each other.
They continued walking, picking their way through the thick foliage that covered the old abandoned road. It climbed steadily, and soon they were huffing and sweating. Jacey started to question her decision to come this way.
They topped a rise, and a gap in the trees showed that they had climbed one of the lower hills. They couldn’t see the ocean behind them through the thick rainforest, but ahead lay a clear, grassy valley. A few tall tamarind trees dotted the lower reaches, and closer by stood a grove of mangoes.
“Look,” Jacey said. “Mangoes. At least we’ll have something to eat.” Just seeing them made her stomach rumble.
Summer didn’t respond. She was frozen, hands shading her eyes, leaning slightly forward.
“Summer?” Jacey said. “Let’s go gather some mangoes.”
“Yeah. Yeah, that would be good,” she said. But she didn’t move.
Jacey stepped next to her and tried to see what she was staring at. Summer pointed. “You see there, right at the edge of where the valley meets the tree line, you see that big mound? It looks like rock.”
Jacey saw it, but it looked like part of the hillside, perhaps a thrust of rock covered with vegetation.
“Give me the binoculars,” Summer said. “I think that’s a building.”
Jacey didn’t agree, but she handed the binoculars to Summer.
Summer scanned the valley with the binoculars. “I’m pretty sure that’s a building.” She started off the road directly toward the structure, which lay at least a kilometer away.
“Summer, come on. Let’s go get some mangoes. We can look at that rock pile after.”
But Summer wasn’t listening. She was marching straight off.
Jacey didn’t want to split up, so she ran forward and grabbed Summer by the elbow and turned her around
“Listen to me. We’re going to get the food first. Then we’ll investigate what you found.”
Summer’s petulant look returned, but only for a moment. “Yes, you’re right. Of course. That would make the most sense.”
° ° °
They stopped to rest in the shade of a tamarind tree, sweaty and thirsty. The valley was much bigger than it had appeared from the rise behind them. And there was no breeze here at the bottom. Jacey squatted to preserve energy and undid the catch at the throat of her uniform top. She would have loved to roll up her pant legs, too, but it seemed every other weed and bush bristled with thorns.
Jacey gnawed the last bit of mango flesh off the pit, then tossed it into a bush. Three mangoes had taken the edge off her hunger and had given her a burst of energy. But her stomach roiled. If they didn’t eat something more substantial soon, they’d be helpless against searchers.
More than that, they needed water.
A glance at the sky showed nothing but blue. Hopefully the rainforest would live up to its name. Jacey would feel much better once the water jug was full.
“I think it’s the ruins of an old windmill tower,” Summer said, more to herself than to Jacey. Ahead, right at the edge of the forest line, the heaping mound of vine-covered rock hunched on the landscape. It looked a giant bucket of stone had been dumped upside down, holding its form like damp sand.
“It is a windmill tower,” Summer said, voice full of conviction. She trained the binoculars to the left and fiddled with the focus. “And there is part of an old house. We should keep going.”
Unlike Jacey, Summer had eaten a full breakfast. Jacey wished she’d eaten all of the pastries Mr. Justin had laid out that morning.
“Lead the way,” Jacey said, thrusting herself upright.
The final stretch to the windmill tower offered no cover. If the helicopter appeared, they’d be spotted for sure.
Summer chose the easiest path, but the going got difficult as they started upslope. Jacey kept scanning the skies for the helicopter.
The mound of stone slowly drew nearer. When they finally reached it, Jacey bent over, hands on knees, heaving huge breaths. She consoled herself with the fact that any pursuers would have to cross the same terrain. And with it so open, she and Summer would see them coming.
Unless they come at night . . .
Jacey blocked the thought. One could only worry about so many things, she decided. If she was going to expend the energy to worry, it might as well be about something she could control. Like getting into cover.
“We should move into the forest,” she said.
“But there has to be an entrance,” Summer said. “An archway, like in the bell tower.”
They circled the vine-covered stone, looking for the entrance that had to be there. A few moments’ prodding showed that the mound was made from stacked stone.
“Here it is.” Summer wrenched a gap in a section of thick vines, exposing a dark opening. A second later, she had thrust her head and shoulders through.
“Wait, Summer,” Jacey said. But the girl was gone
Jacey poked her head in. Faint light beamed through holes in the wall above them, providing just enough illumination to see a tumble of dead vines and limbs covering the floor of the structure.
A thick wooden beam ran from wall to wall overhead. A section of loft still remained on one side. If there had ever been stairs or a ladder to get u
p there, it had long since moldered away into nothing.
Summer walked the perimeter of the great stone circle. “This will do well, assuming we don’t find a better option.” She shrugged off the backpack.
The tower felt wrong to Jacey. She didn’t know why, except that it made chills creep across her skin.
“Let’s keep looking,” she suggested.
They squeezed out of the tower and headed into the trees. Tumbled stone humps, the fallen walls of several structures, stood around an area of several hectares. A curved wall was the only remaining piece of what once had been a house of stone. A wide gaping window stood in it, and at its base lay the rusty hinges from the shutters. The wood had long ago disintegrated and now nourished the rambling plants that surrounded the wall.
They edged past the wall and into the deeper shadows, climbing over more mounds where only the cut square stones poking from the turf told that a manmade structure had once stood there.
“What’s that?” Jacey asked, pointing.
A rectangular stump five meters high stood among the trees, its top jagged and broken. And beyond it, a ridge covered with fallen leaves and soil and moss showed where the remains of the tower had collapsed
“I think it was some kind of chimney,” Summer mused.
Nearby, thrusting through the vegetation was the top half of a great iron wheel, toothed and mated to another gear attached to long iron shafts. The bones of some long-dead machine, they reminded Jacey vaguely of the torture devices from the Middle Ages Socrates had taught her about.
Summer studied the gears, running her fingers along the teeth. “People lived here. Worked here. This is old technology. There must have been another windmill at some point. These gears were wind-powered. They would spin and turn the shaft. But I don’t know what purpose they served.”
Jacey knew.
And it explained why she felt such dread in the windmill tower and such darkness seeping from the ground here. “Socrates said St. Vitus was once a major sugar plantation. This has to be one of the farms. I don’t know how they processed the sugarcane, but this must have been part of it.”
She didn’t want to stay there, but she knew they had no choice. They needed to rest. They needed to find more food.
Child of Lies Page 9