I left my father and my sister behind.
Those are the only words I can comprehend. They run over and over in my mind. I can hardly breathe, but that could be because it’s the Turning and the evil spirits are trying to hurt us. Or maybe it’s because I’m such a bad person.
I left my father and my sister behind.
Six of us got away.
We’re not driving anymore. We made it about forty miles south of Nbutai, making our own road in the dusty mountainous region, before we had to stop. All six of us—Corin, Rahn, Kayden, Three, Esther, and I—are huddled under the tarpaulin in the truck bed.
“It’s safety in numbers against the evil spirits,” Rahn had said.
I thought that it would have made more sense if we’d all squashed into the cabin, but Rahn didn’t think so. We just counted our resources, then pooled together under the tarpaulin.
We’ve got a lot of weapons: a Colt M1892, an HS2000, two revolvers, two grenade launcher pistols, a rifle, three Glock 17Cs and two Lugers. I’m cradling the Glock that Corin gave me close to my chest—the safety’s on. Corin checked all the guns’ safety catches before we hid under the tarpaulin.
My other hand is on top of my terrier’s back, keeping him still, and Three’s holding onto my elbow. I can feel him shaking. I’m lying on one of the three survival kits we still have—none of which have any water purification tablets in them—and a wooden box with lots of carvings on it digs into my shoulder. I can’t move, and I dare not make a sound. No one’s making any sound at all, save for our breathing. We’re all listening.
Above us, the spirits are gathering. I can’t see them, but I know the sky will be a rich purple with dark black holes in it that grow bigger and bigger as they fight the purple masses. There might be a few other colorful streaks in there too. We have to remain as still as possible. The spirits cannot know we’re here. I imagine their shapes; wispy tendrils clinging to skeletal figures, but it is my imagination. People rarely see an evil spirit and live.
My mind whirs, and I find myself thinking of Raleigh. Did he survive? Is he still going to come after me? I swallow hard. I can hear my pulse in my ear. Three’s grip on my elbow tightens. If Raleigh’s alive, he won’t be cowering under a tarpaulin. He’ll be in a building, safe. All the Enhanced will be safe. They won’t be relying on a flimsy tarpaulin and the pegs holding it down.
I try not to think of my room at the Enhanced compound. I’m Untamed. The benevolent spirits, and the Gods and Goddesses, made me a Seer because they need me to be Untamed, to be their messenger, to carry their warnings. I have to be Untamed.
And I am, I’ve just proved that. I fought against the Enhanced, helped the Untamed get away.
You were going to join Raleigh.
I flinch. No. It was a surrender. I was going to surrender to him save my people. That was the deal Raleigh had offered. But it doesn’t even matter now. It didn’t happen. Corin saved me.
But what if he hadn’t? If I’d gone with Raleigh, then our group wouldn’t have been cut down to six; sure they’d have had to move to a new village where the Enhanced couldn’t find them, but they could’ve taken more people, more supplies with them. The Untamed would be stronger.
And I’d be Enhanced; I don’t know how I feel about that possibility. Nothing’s clear anymore. Sure, I no longer have the burning desire for augmenters, and I know that my emotions are my own—that I’m in control—but I do want to be safe. I don’t like hiding under tarpaulins from supernatural danger.
I press my lips together and listen to the raging spirits.
It’ll be better in the morning, it’ll be warmer then. The other trucks had most of the foil blankets in them, but we have three between us. Esther, Corin, and Rahn are using them. I brace myself. My mother’s pendant presses against the side of my neck. It feels cold, but alive; I can’t feel the sharp edge anymore. I want to reach up and touch it, but I dare not let go of the dog. Or the Glock.
Eventually, the evil spirits leave, and Rahn pulls back the tarpaulin. His face is shadowed with dust, and his arms hang by his side as he stares at us. I get up, and the terrier jumps down out the truck bed. Looking around again, I try not to notice just how many people we left behind. My father and Five’s empty spaces haunt me.
I look at the terrier. He’s looking for Esther’s dog. Her dog isn’t here. My terrier turns toward Three and me. He whines at us, his face full of sadness. I have to look away.
Rahn decides it’s best that we get going again soon, so, after relieving ourselves and doing our best to wash the dried blood from our bodies in a small half-dried-out stream, we pile back into the truck. This time Corin’s driving, with Rahn and Kayden in the front. Which suits me fine. Esther and Three are good company, normally.
The terrier’s sitting between my legs. He whines. He knows. I try not to cry, because once I do, the dam will be broken.
We’re heading southwest. Now that we have no other trucks to meet up with, the idea is to skirt around New Azhalda—an Enhanced city—and keep going until we find a smaller town we can raid. Corin reckons New Zsai will be the closest after the city and a lot safer for us to raid. Less of a chance of them having scanners in the shops.
I twist around so I can see Corin in the cabin. He’s deep in conversation with Rahn and Kayden; I can just about hear their voices over the engine.
My stomach rumbles, and I try not to think about how delicious that cake was.
The dog shifts over a bit.
“I still can’t believe they had guns… They shot at us,” Three says at last, shaking his head. A line appears in between his eyebrows. He’s sitting opposite me, his elbows resting on his knees. “They say the Enhanced are perfect. No crime or violence in their society, no murders, that their guns are only for shooting sports, but it’s all lies. They don’t believe in that. Lesson six is wrong.” He sounds upset.
“Just proves it. No one can be perfect.” Esther coughs. “The danger is when someone tries to be perfect and then convinces themselves that they are. It’s like a disease.” She’s leaning against my body slightly; I think she’s hurt her side. “They think what they’re doing is right.”
“Their goals are messed up.”
Just saying the words makes me feel strange, as if I’m betraying a small part of me. But I’m not. I’m Untamed now. I look at Three. He seems surprised that I’ve spoken. So does Esther. Maybe they both expect me to be Enhanced-loving still.
“Yeah,” Three says after a minute.
He fixes his eyes on me, and I find myself comparing his eyes with Raleigh’s. Three’s are human; the sclerae are the color they’re supposed to be: white. And his irises are dark, but the pupils are darker still. Raleigh’s are just metallic.
I think of my own eyes. I hope they’re completely normal now, but I don’t want to ask.
Esther sits up a little straighter, one hand pressed against her side. “They’re definitely messed up.” She looks at me. “They’re even going against their own values to get you back. They must really want you.”
“Or it’s just an excuse to kill us. Eliminate the threat if they can’t convert us,” Three says.
I press my lips together. Either way, I don’t want to think about it.
A couple of hours later, Corin and Rahn swap seats. Wordlessly, Corin climbs into the other side of the cabin and slams the door. Then the engine rumbles up, and we’re on our way again. Esther sighs at some point, and I notice my brother giving her a concerned look. I raise my eyebrows, mainly to myself. Esther shuts her eyes, leaning back against the shaking wall of the truck bed. At least she hasn’t lost any of her family; Rahn and Corin are both here. My father and sister aren’t.
I struggle not to cry as I think of Five. Out of seven siblings, we’re the only girls. We were close. I can picture her perfectly. Her skin’s the same mahogany shade as mine, but her bone structure is sharper and more elegant. Her eyes are brown, like mine—at least when I’m not Enhanced—but her nose is
smaller and slightly arched. Her figure’s always been better. She’s curvy and feminine. I look down at my own slouched body and try not to feel resentment. That emotion isn’t appropriate, especially when she’s either dead or Enhanced because of me.
For a second, I feel a glimmer of hope. If she’s Enhanced, she’ll be safe. Alive, at least. Maybe we could rescue them all. But no one’s the same after they’ve been Enhanced. The addiction doesn’t go away. I bite down on my bottom lip, then I stroke the dog.
Corin got me back, yet will I ever be the same person again? None of the people my mother rescued were. They screamed for augmenters at every second. They were desperate. Still, I’m not like that. It must be my genes. Maybe Five and my father could be converted back, like I was. We’d just need to find them…and my mother too. But I can’t see Rahn agreeing to march us back into danger now.
I blink back tears. I know it’s unlikely Five and my father are Enhanced. They’d have shot themselves, rather than risk that. The Dream Land showed me their bodies. The thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
“We should be parallel with New Azhalda now,” Three says some time later. He has a map in his hands. It was in my survival kit, along with a compass. “Fifty miles away.”
I nod because I don’t know what to say. Only fifty miles separates us from their artificiality. Only fifty miles separates us from safety, security, and stability.
The truck takes a sharp turn to the left, brakes squealing. I hurtle into the corner and fall heavily, gasping. Three falls onto me, his elbow digging into my stomach sharply. I pull my Glock out of his way, making sure the safety’s still on. It is. Then Esther lands on top of us, and the terrier cowers under my bent legs. The luggage moves, and the truck’s wheels skid.
It doesn’t stop.
“Argh…” Esther’s hand reaches out toward my head.
I try to say something, but there’s an elbow suddenly against my stomach.
“Slow down!” Three yells.
We’re skidding to the left. Three and Esther crash further into me. I struggle to breathe, can’t see the terrier. The butt of a gun presses into my thigh, along with something else. Huge boxes fall onto us. I scream, trying to bring my arms up to shield my head, but I can’t move them; Three’s lying against them. He’s trying to move so his body shields Esther and me, but the gravity’s too strong.
For a horrible second, I’m sure the truck will turn over. Momentum’s building. We’re skidding too fast. Metal scrapes metal. Something hits my back. I scream, and cold air blasts over me. Three cries out. The terrier whines.
I’m falling, slipping down, falling, falling. Somehow, I’m now on Three’s other side. I can’t see the terrain outside, but something’s not right. The ground itself is moving.
The luggage takes a sharp turn, the ties snap, and packages hurtle toward the tailgate. The three of us start to slide with them. I scream. Limbs flail about. Three’s arms clasp at the side, and he grabs out at Esther who’s nearest.
I’m still sliding. The wind rakes through my hair.
I turn back, looking at the luggage, but I can’t see all of it. It’s shrinking, getting farther away. Falling away. It’s falling out. I’m going to fall out. We’re going fast. Too fast. I try to turn. Try to find something to hold onto, but my fingers just scrape at the rough wooden bed. Splinters dig into my fingers, diving underneath my nails.
“Seven,” Three shouts, and his arm’s stretching out to me, but I can’t quite reach. Our fingertips touch, and then the gap’s growing.
Something makes a loud noise right next to me. I scream. The wooden bed snags against my shirt. More splinters. Sharp pain. I twist around. Nearly all the luggage has gone. And the truck’s still speeding up. Still taking crazy turns.
“Rahn! Slow down, stop!”
Three dives toward me. His arms stretch out. I feel the warmth of his hands around my wrists. He pulls me back sharply, my shoulders protest. Pain engulfs me, strangling me. But I go with him. And somehow, seconds later, we’re clinging to the back of the cabin. The truck goes over a deep pothole, and we fly into the air.
We land heavily in the truck bed. Three grunts loudly.
“What the hell are they doing?” Esther’s breathing’s too ragged.
I can barely shrug. We’re still going fast. Too fast. Especially for this road…if it is a road. All I can see when I look over the truck’s walls is dust in swirling shapes. If we’ve left the road, we should’ve let some pressure out the tires, given them a wider surface area, more grip.
“Stop!” Three climbs up slightly, one hand firmly on my arm, and pounds on the back of the cabin. “Rahn, stop! Eriksen!”
But Rahn doesn’t stop. The parts of my skin I can still feel prickle—something is wrong.
Rahn would not do this. Rahn would not go this fast. Or maybe he would if he was having one of those competitions with Corin, but he wouldn’t when the three of us, and all our stuff, is in the back.
“What the hell’s happening?” Corin’s voice. Distant, far away.
Three’s grip on my arm tightens. “Move over to that side,” he says. “There’s a handle.”
He guides me toward it, and I latch on as we go over another bump.
At that second, I see the sky. It is dark red. Blood. The sky is bleeding all over us. A strange sound escapes my lips, kind of like a gasp and a shriek. I look at Three and Esther. They’ve seen it too.
One of the Gods is angry with us. Or an evil spirit is chasing us.
“I’ve lost control—”
“Slam the brakes!”
“We’ve lost everythin’ in the back…the luggage…shit…the ammunition….”
“Are they still—”
“I can’t see Sev!”
I hear Rahn and Corin and Kayden’s voices, but they’re distant. Too distant. But I can hear them over the roaring of the wind and the howling of the sky, and I shouldn’t be able to.
Something crashes against the side of the truck by Esther. She screams and lets go of her handle. Three lunges for her, just as she’s about to go over the side. He lets go of his handle. I reach for them, and—
We’re flying. The three of us. Esther screams. Three screams. I scream. The air soars under my arms. Stuff rushes past me. My hair wraps around my head wildly. I can’t see a thing. We’ve left the truck bed.
Then we’re falling.
Light floods my vision. There’s a whistling sound and a shriek.
I scream as the dusty ground jumps up to meet us.
I land on my side. Something cracks. Pain snakes through my left hip, moves across to my lower back. I flex my arms, trying to push myself up. It takes many attempts. Breathing hard, I finally succeed, pulling my body into a sitting position. The pendant around my neck moves slightly.
I look around. The sky is blue again. The desert is still—eerily still. Too still. My mouth is dry. Coldness spreads through me. I spread my fingers out on the dry ground, pushing my hand down until sand covers them. I flick my head the other way. More sand.
Only sand. There’s nothing here. Nothing. Nothing but me and the sand.
I twist around, one hand clamped over my left hip. My back feels greasy. I’m trembling. But I don’t know whether that’s because of the pain or because I’m alone. Maybe both.
They’ve all gone. Esther. Three. Corin. Rahn. Kayden. The terrier. No one is here. I frown, my heart racing. They’ve gone. Just gone. They’re not even in the distance. And everything—the landscape—is still. Too still. Too normal.
I shield my eyes from the sun—it’s high up in the sky. I gulp, rubbing at my sore head. Deep breaths. I have to remain in control. I need a clear head. But my head is far from clear. It feels groggy. Then I feel the most terrifying feeling.
It starts as a small kind of hunger. But it grows, and it keeps growing, until my sides are aching so much that my hip feels numb in comparison. My arms and legs start to shake uncontrollably. Heat pours through me.
&nb
sp; “No…no…no.” My voice sounds strange. Too strange.
I press my hot fingers to my forehead. It’s sticky, clammy. Cold? I can’t think. I can only feel the panic rising within me, the panic that I struggle to push down.
Need to calm down. I have to calm down. Have to. My legs jerk out.
I need an augmenter. Calmness… I can taste it again, on the back of my teeth, like a sweet syrup that’s stuck there. I run the tip of my tongue over my teeth, leaning back in the sand, savoring it, and—
This isn’t real.
I freeze. The taste of the Calmness is so strong, so evocative, but I know it isn’t real. It can’t be. The Calmness isn’t real.
It’s the memory. Just the memory.
I’m stronger than that.
I need to find the others. I take a deep breath, feeling my ribs shake with pain as my lungs fill up. I force myself to sit up again, my hands gripping my knees so hard my skin burns under my own touch. Deep breaths, more deep breaths.
Okay. Right. I take another deep breath. Esther and Three fell from the truck at the same time as me. I know that happened. We were all flying toward the ground together. They must have landed close to me. Only I’m the only person here. The landscape is flat and dusty and smooth. There are no other bulky shapes. And the sand around me is unblemished, as far as I can see—no tire marks. But I can’t see much. I’m still sitting. I need to be taller if I’m going to see more.
Gritting my teeth, I somehow manage to stand. Biting the inside of my cheeks, I struggle not to throw up.
I can’t see anything new. It really is just sand. There are no markers, no markers at all. But there are always landmarks, somewhere. Rocks, old trees, there’s always something. But not here.
My head feels too heavy as I walk forward. Then I stop. I am walking. Yet my hip cracked. It hurt. It hurt a lot. I look down at my left side. My hip no longer hurts.
I frown, pressing my lips together for courage, and I keep walking. My mother’s pendant is bulky around my neck. It feels heavy, almost wrong. But it’s not. It can’t be wrong. I look down at the pendant. Then I freeze. It’s not there. I put my hand to my neck. Definitely not there. The sinew’s gone. The crystal’s gone. I frown; I can still feel its weight. But it’s not there.
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