by Leito, Chad
Jen stopped walking and turned to face Asa; she had heard him coming. A smile spread over her lips and she raised the stick-thing, which Asa now saw was a cigarette, to her lips. She inhaled, took the cigarette from her mouth, and ashed red ember into the snow where it sizzled.
“Look at you, Palmer! You acted like you were too good to cut through the arctic jungle, but here you are. You should be ashamed of yourself, lying like that!” She laughed some and took another deep drag.
“Are you crazy? Smoking? Really? And I told you not to come out here.”
She poked Asa in the chest with the hand that held her cigarette; the smoke wisped up and burned Asa’s nostrils. “You’re not my daddy.”
Asa pushed her wrist from his chest. “Get that thing away from me!”
And then, she kissed him. Asa was given no indication that it was going to happen; she simply leaned forward and planted her lips on his. She tasted and smelled like smoke.
Asa pushed her off of him. “Stop it! What’s wrong with you? Let’s get back to the track before someone notices that we’re gone.”
“I don’t want to go with you,” she said, and walked off. “You don’t control me.”
“And where did you get the cigarettes?”
“They’re from home. Don’t worry, I didn’t steal them like I did those goggles from that old guy.” She stepped over a fallen, mossy log, and then made her way around the massive spider web. “Watch out, don’t touch this web,” she said. “The spider up there looks like he could take you—tough guy persona and all.”
Asa followed after her, grabbed her shoulder and spun her around, a little rougher than he intended. “Listen to me. I’m not trying to put on a tough guy persona. I’m just trying to help you out. I don’t think that you realize how dangerous this place was. If I hadn’t been there to save you yesterday when you were caught up in the rope…”
“Forget you, Palmer. I didn’t need you there, and I don’t need you now. What makes you think you’re so important?”
Asa’s anger was boiling inside of him. He wanted to yell at her, and tell her how careless she was being. She didn’t understand, and he did. AND I PUT MYSELF ON THE LINE FOR YOU! I should have never come out here, trying to help you. Never again. Asa held his tongue though, and watched her go.
She walked in between the trees like she owned them, as though she knew every secret of the strange and altered arctic jungle that she had never even been in before. Her head was back, and she sucked on the end of her cigarette when she should have been running. She was utterly self-confidant, and moved as though nothing could hurt her.
Asa was thinking about how to get back to the main road when her expression completely changed. Jen rounded a massive, moss-slick tree and her smile dropped. Color drained from her face, her eyes widened and she even dropped her precious cigarette onto the cold earth. She opened her mouth, took a sharp, terrified breath in, and then moaned in fear. She looked over at Asa, and her eyes said, “HELP!”
I told you, Asa thought. But, more strongly than that thought, he was scared. He and Jen were completely alone and without a single weapon. From his vantage point, Asa couldn’t see what was on the other side of the tree. For whatever reason, maybe just because scared people sometimes don’t make the best decisions, he didn’t use his echolocation. Instead, he walked, slowly, toward Jen’s side, and followed her stare to see what had frightened her so much.
Standing before them, was a mutated gorilla. At first, Asa was relieved to see that it was a female. Female gorillas aren’t nearly as strong or ferocious as their male counterparts. Normally, at least. Then, the gorilla’s child climbed up higher on it’s mother’s head, and peered between the female’s thick spikes of hair at the two humans who had intruded into the jungle.
Like the dead monkeys that the Multipliers had killed and tied up yesterday, this one was wearing clothes. This was one of the ways that Asa could tell it was a female. She wore a pink skirt with a green floral print stitched into the dirty fabric. Also, her ears were pierced with dangling, red earrings. The second way that Asa could tell that she was a female were her swollen breasts, which hung black and uncovered by hair or fabric. The nipples were long, and gnarled. Asa guessed that junior became aggressive when he was hungry.
Instead of the typical black and grey hair that most gorillas have, this one’s hair color resembled a cheetah’s: spotted all over, yellow and an orange-ish brown. The hair was the typical gorilla-texture, which is three and four inches long, thick, clean, and straight.
She was leaned over, supporting much of her weight on her front knuckles, which were covered in thick, black skin. The skin looked to Asa like the leather on a baseball glove. Her bare chest rose and fell, and her teeth were barred at Jen, telling her to stay away.
But when Asa stepped into the frame, the look on her face changed: It softened. She was still breathing hard, but she leaned back a bit, and cocked her head to one side.
At this point, Asa had forgotten about how angry he was with Jen, or his worries concerning the Winggame team; he just wanted to get out of this situation alive. He wrapped his hand in a tight grip along Jen’s wrist, and slowly extended his wings out beside him. He was ready to make a quick escape if the animal charged.
The female ape grunted, her voice was very deep, and she studied Asa’s face for a moment. Her eyes looked into Asa’s, and she examined his nose and his mouth, like another human might. It was then that Asa saw how big this gorilla’s skull was. Instead of the mashed forehead that most gorilla’s had, this one’s was very prominent. The skull was rounded atop, and didn’t have the sagittal crest that many primates had.
Asa could feel Jen’s heart thudding through the veins in her wrist. Odd as it was, in that moment, Asa wondered what Jen’s kiss had meant; did she do it just because she’s so impulsive?
The ape was an impressive figure before them. Asa was just about to start backing up with Jen when the monkey held up her hands to show empty palms. “I don’t mean any harm,” the gesture seemed to say.
Despite his fear, Asa watched.
The monkey reached into a pocket on the hip of her dirty skirt and pulled out a few objects, which she sifted between her hands. There was a red, plastic yo-yo, a deck of roughly 20 wrinkled playing cards, a small makeup mirror, and a polaroid picture. The female monkey grunted once more, and slowly placed the picture at her feet.
Asa and Jen watched, still unsure if this animal meant harm.
But she didn’t. The large ape turned on its knuckles and moved back through the foliage. The young one on her back held onto bunches of hair with both its front hands and its feet. Junior wore a small backpack, but was otherwise naked. They watched until the gorillas were gone.
They stood there for a moment, listening to the birds, snakes, and other animals making their jungle sounds. It was such an odd thing to hear in a place so cold.
Finally, Jen moved forward, picked up the photo that the gorilla had left, and examined it. Her hands were shaking.
“My God, Asa. It’s you!”
Asa moved forward and she handed him the photo. Jen’s right. This is me. Except, not. Like the slide of the dance that never happened that they showed at the assembly, this picture appeared to have been doctored by a computer. Asa stood in the center of the wrinkled photograph, wearing a lab coat. He had thick rimmed black glasses on, and thick beard stubble ran up onto his cheeks and down over his chin.
“Why did that monkey have a picture of you?” Jen asked.
“I don’t know,” Asa said, but he now wondered if this had anything to do with the Multipliers in the woods killing the monkeys. Do these animals, like the crows, support me in some way?
Asa gazed down at his own eyes in the polaroid. What could it mean? Was it possible that he had worn the lab coat and glasses some time in the past, but just didn’t remember? No, Asa thought—it’s probably just edited, like the photos of the dance that never happened.
“We’d b
etter get back. If you walk this way, you’ll hit the track where you should be in the run now.”
Asa tucked the polaroid in his suit, by his chest. Was that gorilla trying to tell me something by leaving this photo? And why is it edited to show me in a lab coat with a beard and glasses?
“Yeah, I’m going back,” Jen said. She was still a bit pale and looked shaken up. Maybe this will make her more cautious, Asa thought.
Even though he wanted to keep thinking about the odd picture he had just been given, Asa had to start moving if he had any hope of getting back onto the track undetected. Maybe if I can get back on track, and finish the run, Roxanne won’t kick me off the team. I’ll even beg if I have to.
Asa watched Jen make her way through the jungle. When she was close enough to the path that she could walk there without much chance of any harm coming to her, Asa began to fly low through the jungle, dodging through the trees.
It was dark, and the maze of trees obscured his vision, so he closed his eyes and used echolocation to see where things were around him. He found that every once in a while he would skirt a tree that he didn’t see, or that the echo seemed to come back incorrectly to him after he sent out a cry. But, for the most part, it was pretty reliable. He was moving forward, nervous and excited at the same time. I can’t wait to talk to Conway and see what he has to say about it.
Asa flapped harder, and moved onward, closer to where he thought the track might be. He was starting to feel better about having to meet with Roxanne after practice. Thinking that perhaps the monkeys were his guardians, just like the crows were, gave him confidence. It made the task of staying alive seem a bit more manageable.
And, Asa thought. I’m making good time. I’ll probably be able to make it back to the road without anyone noticing that I was…
Then he was tackled. Later, he would reflect on the initial force and wonder how he didn’t break a rib. The impact took him immediately out of the air and he slammed down onto the snowy ground below.
Asa couldn’t breathe.
“I knew you were no good, Piggy.” Stan was atop Asa, with a knee on either side of his torso. His small hands were able to get an unbelievable amount of leverage behind them. His thumbs pressed unmercifully onto Asa’s windpipe so that they made a one-inch deep trench in his skin.
Asa moved his hands up and grabbed at Stan’s forearms. He tried to rip them loose, but they were too strong; it was impossible.
“You’re weak, Piggy,” Stan said. His face was red and strings of thick saliva spread between his lips when he spoke. His breath stunk.
A dry wheeze came from Asa’s throat as Stan readjusted his hands. A little air came out, but he hadn’t had time to inhale. Upon readjustment, the grip was intensified, and Asa felt like his eyeballs were going to pop out with the pressure. His legs kicked in the snow and his back was now covered in wet mud. He tried to buck Stan off, but it was useless.
“I caught you sneakin’ through the woods, murderer. I’m going to leave you here. They’ll prolly never find your body. If they do, so what? You didn’t get in trouble for the stuff you pulled last year. Why should I? That sound fair, Piggy?”
Asa couldn’t respond. It was getting hard to think. He lifted his fist and pounded it against Stan’s rib cage. Stan grunted a bit, but his hold on Asa didn’t slacken at all.
A darkly jubilant expression came over Stan’s face. “I’ve never killed a Piggy before. I’ve killed people, but never a Piggy.” A drop of sweat fell from his nose into Asa’s mouth. Asa was under too much strain to care much about the salty taste.
“I can’t talk real good, Asa. Do you notice that? Most of the people here, they talk real good.”
Asa jerked and writhed, and Stan continued talking.
“You know why? It’s cause this place takes the peoples with the most skills. Most of ‘em talk good. They got school-skills. I didn’t go to school, Asa. I was picked for something else, Piggy.” He leaned close to Asa and spoke with hot breath. “I killed my parents. I then killed the officer that came to investigate. I fed his body to our dogs, and they never found him.” Stan laughed a bit. “That’s what I’m good at. Some are good at math, some science. I guess that the Academy thought it ‘pressive that someone small as me was able to kill like that.”
His deep blue eyes looked completely insane.
My drill, Asa thought. If I can activate my drill…
Last semester, Teddy had installed a drill onto Asa’s armband. This drill used the programmable fabrics of the armband and was able to tear through rock. Flesh was no problem for the tool. In order to activate it, he had to pull a portion of the armband’s fabric towards his hand. When he did this, the armband was programmed to create a small hole that he could place his thumb in. Once his thumb was in position, all he had to do was make a fist to activate the weapon.
Asa’s eyes rolled in their sockets and he looked at his armband, which was covered in dirt and snow. Stan was still smiling and sweating on top of him. Asa moved the armband to his mouth, bit down on the fabric, pulled, and then placed his thumb into the small hole that was created.
Stan wasn’t concerned at all with what he had seen Asa do. Very few students knew about the drill that Asa and Teddy could activate on their armbands.
Still being choked, Asa kept his hand flat for a moment, knowing that if he put it into a fist the drill would hum to life. From there, he could reach his fist up and direct the fast moving fibers to tear up Stan’s rib cage.
Asa’s face turned purple, and Stan’s grip hardened. He didn’t want to slack now, with Asa’s death so close.
But still, with the murderer atop him, Asa thought, do I really want to kill him? Asa remembered how his reputation had changed so much after Shelby’s death last year. He imagined that after this death, the students would have an enormous incentive to kill him; their safety would be on the line. Killing Stan would mean the absolute, nonnegotiable end of normalcy at the Academy for Asa. There would be no more second chances, and every student would be an enemy, except for maybe Teddy. Maybe.
On top of that, Asa thought, I don’t want another reason for bad dreams. I don’t want his blood on my hands. I don’t want to see someone else die.
With consciousness slipping, Asa just lay there as Stan continued to choke him. He felt as though the ground suddenly tipped at an angle, and a wave of light-headedness tried to overcome him.
Stan was really smiling now. “You dead, Piggy,” he said.
If Asa could have spoken, he would have said, “You’re right.” It wasn’t that he wanted to die, it was just that he was sick of being accused, and he didn’t want anyone else to be hurt. He didn’t want to have to clean himself after Stan’s chest exploded over him either. And he didn’t want to have any more bad dreams.
But then, Stan spit on him, and his mind changed. It wasn’t that the spit was incredibly offensive to Asa (it’s not any more offensive than trying to kill me), but it started a train of thought. First, Asa thought that he was glad the saliva was clear; he thought of the Multipliers, with their black saliva. In his dying moments, he remembered the contract. He remembered how, if he and Charlotte died, the Academy would become an organization of Multipliers and then they would take over the world.
What’s worse? Having to clean off Stan’s insides, or having the world fall to the Multipliers.
Now, purple faced, Asa smiled, and looked Stan in the eyes. He mouthed the words “Kill you.”
Stan’s expression changed from jubilation to puzzlement.
Asa was about to close his hand into a fist and then drill out Stan’s heart and lungs from his rib cage when the tension on his neck was released, and Stan was gone all together.
Stan flew from the spot where he held Asa into a nearby tree, and Roxanne stood above them. Her foot was still extended in the air where she had used it to kick Stan.
“What’s going on, Stan?” she asked.
Asa began to cough harder than he knew was possible. He t
urned over on his hands and knees, spat sputum into the dirt, coughed and gasped.
Stan stood up and pointed at Asa. “He was flying through the woods, I caught him; and he didn’t answer my question earlier.”
“So you thought you’d kill him?” Roxanne asked incredulously.
“Well,” sputtered Stan, “He’s a murderer. We all know that.”
“He’s a part of our team!”
“Yeah, but why was he out in the middle of the jungle?”
“I don’t know, did you ask him?”
Asa continued to cough and gasp. He was feeling much better.
“No,” Stan said. “I didn’t ask ‘im.”
“I’m the captain, Stan, not you. And if you continue to take situations like this into your own hands, I’ll give my option of firing you from the team some serious consideration.”
“Understood,” Stan said.
“Now, you go make sure everyone else finishes their run safely. I’ll deal with Palmer.”
Stan left, and Asa could feel Roxanne’s eyes as she stared at him. When they had been alone for a whole minute and Asa was beginning to calm down, Roxanne asked: “Do you feel good enough to fly? I need to talk to you in my apartment. Here isn’t private enough.”
Asa wiped the spittle from his mouth and looked at her. They were completely alone in the jungle. “This isn’t private enough?”
“That’s what I said. Stand up. You’ve got classes later; we need to start moving.”
Asa’s legs were shaking, but he was able to stand. He took a few more moments to catch his breath and then, without saying a word, Roxanne spread her wings beside her. They were covered in thin, yellow feathers that stood out in the jungle. Following her lead, Asa spread his wings out too: they were the simple bat wings that all Fishies were given upon arrival at the Academy.
“Do you feel up to flying yet?”
Asa nodded, looking at the bruise on her face. He reflected at how easily she had kicked Stan off of her, and wondered what could have caused the bruise.