Untamed Series, #1

by Madeline Dyer

  No, I must be careful. I need to plan my actions. It’s the only way out of here, alive. I was right before. Becoming Enhanced must be part of evolution’s plan. Living in fear without the basic necessities can’t be the desired path for humanity.

  Willing myself to fall asleep, I block out the light. But I can’t sleep. Everything’s too noisy: the sounds of the jungle, the whispering wind, Marouska’s breathing. Everything’s keeping me awake. My throat feels raw. I want to cry, but I don’t want to draw any more attention to myself.

  At last, when I fall asleep, the events of the evening replay in my mind, like I have no control over them: the vial, my lips, the taste, the—

  I bolt upright with such vigor that something in my shoulder tears.

  Marouska turns to me in a flash. “What is it? Have you seen something?” she asks. The side of her neck twitches.

  I pause, then shake my head. The movement makes the pain in my shoulder flare up. “Just—just a bad dream,” I say. But she’s not convinced, and I can’t lie to myself.

  Marouska called me Shania.

  She called me my Enhanced name when I’d taken the augmenter. And I’m pretty sure I haven’t told anyone what the Enhanced Ones named me.

  I shake my head. How could she know? Did Raleigh call me by that name at Nbutai, when she was in hearing distance? I blink again. I look at Marouska. She faces the front again now, but I know she’s awake.

  Shania…

  But Marouska wouldn’t call me that. I must have imagined it. Yeah. I nod. Of course, I am thinking like an Enhanced One—I’m part of the Enhanced now, of course I’d hear that name. Marouska wouldn’t call me that… She hates the Enhanced just as much as the rest of them do… She killed the Enhanced who held Corin and me hostage. I see her and myself, from an omniscient point of view, as she makes me throw up the augmenter.

  I must’ve imagined the Shania thing. Marouska hates the Enhanced.

  But I don’t.

  The next morning my stomach churns with every breath I take. I can barely eat the small amount of food Marouska’s prepared for me. Every bite of the meat pie curls up against the roof of my mouth, clinging there like a limpet, until I force my swollen tongue to push the wad to the back of my mouth, where, with great difficulty, I manage to swallow it down.

  I take a deep breath. It’s too risky to take some of the augmenter again, I know that, I’m not stupid. I have to be stealthy. I mustn’t make Marouska suspicious. I have to remain alive until I can join the Enhanced.

  In the early hours of the morning, I considered leaving as soon as the sun rose. But so much could go wrong. A cat could get me. Or I could meet Rahn and the others on their way back. They’d stop me. They might kill me—would I be able to lie convincingly to them, make out that I was checking to see if they were all right?

  No, as soon as Rahn and the others are back and we’re on the next raid—with all of us taking part—I’m going to leave. It’s the best way. Sure, I’ll have to wait a bit—and it’s not ideal—but sometimes you have to sacrifice personal conveniences for safety.

  I just can’t live like this for much longer.

  I need my mother.

  “We’re going up the mountain,” Marouska says after we’ve finished breakfast. “Aye, I want to get some more of ’em yellow roots. They give soup a good flavor.”

  I look at her for a few seconds. “But Rahn said we’re to stay here.” My voice wobbles. I know I’m not in a position to decide what we don’t do.

  Marouska shrugs. “I need to replenish my stock,” is all she says, and then she walks off. She can move surprisingly fast for a woman of her size.

  Hastily, I follow, calling the terrier to my heel. He rubs against my legs and barks playfully. He still loves me, despite what I did. I can barely look at him, though; I won’t be able to take him with me when I leave for the Enhanced city.

  Marouska sets a hard pace—maybe I’m struggling because I’m not exactly in the best shape, or maybe she wants to test me—but I manage to keep up. We reach the lake, but instead of going uphill, the way Corin and I went, Marouska surges straight ahead.

  “Rahn said he saw some of ’em roots up ahead, by a twisty tree,” she explains, flicking her arm to the front.

  I nod and continue walking behind her. It’s getting hotter now, and I can feel perspiration forming on the back of my neck, down my spine, and under my arms. Soon, it’ll be scorching out here. Yet, it’s not the dry desert kind of heat I grew up in. It’s a more humid heat that clogs up your throat; a sticky kind of hotness that latches onto your skin and never lets go. And the air, itself, is thick with mosquitoes that squeak and buzz and hum in your ears. The overall combination does nothing for my nerves.

  A few minutes later, Marouska finds the roots she’s after, and I sit down on the mossy ground while she digs them up.

  “They’ll be okay, y’know.” Marouska looks across at me. She’s crouched like a ground squirrel, in such a position that emphasizes how large she really is. Giant thighs. Giant breasts. “They’ll all come back,” she says. “You’ll see.”

  I nod and look back down the jungle-side. My heart pounds, my skin tingles. I press my hands against my stomach, feeling sick. Only a few more days, I remind myself. They’ll be back soon. We’ll be on the move again. It won’t be long until we need to raid again.

  “You’ll see him again.” Marouska gets up and shoulders her bag with the roots. “I’ve got this wee feeling in my gut. You an’ Corin, you—”

  “What?” I turn wearily to her as I stand up. My ankles are still crossed, and my arms hang by my side.

  Marouska doesn’t say anything more, but her gaze darts from side to side.

  We take a different route back to the car—Marouska wants to scout out the northern side of the lake a little more—and, this time, I am in the lead. We head out farther into the denser parts of the woodland, sticking to a path that looks like medium-sized mammals made it. It’s strange, we haven’t seen many animals here…yet, the paths are worn down.

  The sun gets hotter and hotter as we walk. After an hour or so, the air feels heavier, thicker, like it’s trying to drag something down. Or hide a secret.

  I pause for a second and listen, letting my senses scout the land. My chest catches slightly, and that’s when I know something isn’t right. The terrier growls, then runs back the way we’ve come.

  I hold my arm up to halt Marouska. I hear her stop behind me. I listen hard. All I can hear is the heavy buzz of the jungle’s life. Mosquitoes. Birds. Rustling leaves. The rushing sounds in my own ears.

  Cautiously, I take a step forward. Marouska doesn’t follow me. I take another step ahead. The path goes around a corner, and the mass of trees and vines hide what’s around there.

  Slowly, I get my knife out of my belt and hold it as strongly as I can in my good hand. But my grip isn’t the best, and my hand shakes. I know now is not a good time to let nerves get the better of me.

  With the knife in front of my body, blade out, I walk as quietly as I can toward the path’s corner. I wish I had a gun, but we left the two we have in the car. It didn’t occur to me take them, probably because of the Calmness in my system. My legs tremble. I can’t hear Marouska’s footsteps following, but I daren’t look back to check on her; I have to remain alert and face the danger.

  Listening carefully again, I pause. No sounds jump out at me as being unusual or dangerous. But I am not fooled. There could be a big cat—a leopard maybe—on the other side. I place my left foot in front of my right, then lunge forward with speed—my father always said a speedy confrontation was better than a slow one.

  I pounce forward. My knife flashes in the stripy sunlight. I skid to a stop. I look around. No leopard. No wild pig.

  Then I see it. A strange, strangled sound escapes me.

  I see the body lying at the side of the path.

  “Seven?” Marouska appears behind me.

  I step back so she can see it. She walks past me
, looks at it.

  I have to look away. But the image is scarred on my mind. Tiny fingers with dried bloodstains on them. The small, fragile body. Wide eyes that stare at me, full of fear and hurt and pain.

  I’m going to be sick.

  That body, that could’ve been Three. It could’ve been Esther. It could’ve been Corin. It could’ve been Rahn. It could’ve been anyone.

  It could be me, when they find out….

  “He’s been dead for a few days,” Marouska says. “Something’s been eating his flesh on this side. A cat maybe.”

  My head whirs. An Untamed child… An Untamed child this close to where we’re staying…or maybe it could be an Enhanced child? Do the eye-mirrors fade after death? My skin scrawls.

  I look around, trying to look anywhere, but at the body. The knife is still in my hand, ready, and I’m glad. Anything could be out here, waiting for us.

  “What killed him?” I ask at last.

  I hear Marouska’s footsteps as she steps closer to the body. Then I hear a sound that I’m sure can only be her rolling the dead body over.

  “A bullet. In the back.” Her voice isn’t husky at all. She sounds normal…normal… How can she not be affected? Even I’m affected by it, and there is half a vial of Calmness in my system.

  A twig cracks above, in the jungle’s canopy, and my body snaps toward it. I raise my knife in a flash, but it’s just a bird.

  “The Enhanced?” My voice cracks.

  “Most likely.”

  The Enhanced have to be responsible for this, don’t they? Or could it be the Untamed? They kill as well.

  I take another deep breath, letting the air fill my lungs to their capacity, before I look back in Marouska’s direction. “We need to send the body off,” I say.

  “It’ll be too late,” she says. “It’s been days.”

  “We should still bless his body and say the Spirit Releasing Words in case his soul’s trapped.” My voice is dry, and it cracks as I speak.

  Marouska nods, but she doesn’t make any indication that she is going to do it, so, after having stern words with myself, I step forward until I’m right next to the body. Until his curled, bloody fingers are inches from my left foot. I push my knife back into my belt. I take a deep breath, and I try not to cry as I make the signs of all the Journeying Gods and Goddesses over his fragile body.

  “Travel safely to the New World,” I murmur, and a tear falls from the tip of my nose, onto his tiny body. I glance into his unseeing eyes again—

  I have to look away as I finish the Spirit Releasing Words.

  I walk back down the path, so Marouska is between the child’s body and me. I look around.

  “We shouldn’t be staying here. The Enhanced could be nearby,” I say.

  “But other Untamed could be here,” Marouska replies. She’s looking at the tiny body, hands on hips, shaking her head. “They could help us. Anyway, we have to wait for Rahn to return.”

  “No, we need to go,” I say. We can’t stay here. I need to get away; I need to be with the Enhanced Ones.

  She looks back up at me, and I see movement in her eyes. I freeze. What if she’s realized my plan?

  “No, we wait for Rahn and the others. If we leave, we’ll never see ’em again.”

  I gulp. I’d never see Three again, once I leave. He’d be on his own, still on the run, still in danger. He wouldn’t be safe. Could I live with that? But I’d be with my mother. That would make up for it, and we could find him, persuade him to join us later on, once he sees we’re both still the same people. The Untamed are just scared of the Enhanced because they don’t understand them.

  “Fine,” I say. “But we’re not staying here any longer than we need to. What if this is a regular place the Enhanced scout out? They could be coming here now.” I try to sound scared, not happy.

  There’s a long pause, during which Marouska turns back to me slowly. She shakes her head.

  “I don’t think so—”

  “Why?” I throw my hands up in the air. “There’s a dead child; even if that child belonged to the Enhanced, and was killed by us, it still means there are Enhanced Ones about. Don’t you—”

  “That bullet wound in his back wouldn’t have killed him immediately. It’s off-center,” she says. “I think there was a struggle, quite a way from here. The child was hurt, but escaped. He died running away.”

  I shake my head, my lips pressed together so hard the skin on my bottom lip nearly splits. “We don’t know that. We need to leave as soon as possible.”

  That evening, nothing feels right. I curl up in my seat in the car, my chin resting on my knees, and stare at the bowl of soup Marouska gave me a few hours ago. It tasted funny despite her reassurance that it was perfectly normal. I couldn’t eat more than a spoonful.

  As I stroke the terrier—we found him back at the car when we returned—I think of my brother and the others. They must have reached the Enhanced city by now. So long as nothing went wrong. I push away the thoughts and concentrate on Three’s smiling face. I think of how reassuring he is, how his presence calms me.

  Maybe they’ve already done the raid, and got everything we need, and are on their way back. They could be walking through the grassy lands, or reaching the mountain… No they can’t be that close already

  My eyelids feel heavy, and I lean back against the seat. It is leather, but it hurts my spine. I sigh loudly. Marouska, in the driver’s seat, does not move.

  I close my eyes. That’s when I see them.

  Well. No. I don’t see them. I see Corin. He’s standing in a room. An unfamiliar room. He’s walking toward a table and has a bag slung over his back.

  The room’s lighting is strange and eerie; it makes Corin’s hair look almost blond and his face less lined, less sunburnt. The tiled floor looks expensive, and there are tapestries along the walls. The room gets longer with every new tapestry I notice.

  I look closer, and…and it’s like I’m zooming in. The colors are rich and bright—luxurious, even. They each show a scene. One depicts a young girl—only a few years older than me—with an infant clinging to her. Her arms wrap around the child in a protective stance.

  I move on to the next one. A large wooden table, big enough to seat two hundred men. The table is laden with plates and dishes of what I’m sure is the finest food. Only, among the dishes, there is a man lying on the table. He is pale-skinned and has red hair. Kayden.

  I back away slowly. My mouth feels dry. Suddenly, I realize that I am in the room. I am in the room with Corin.

  I turn to him. “Corin,” I shout.

  But he’s not looking at me. He stands with his back to me. His clothes aren’t the tattered, worn out shreds he left in. They are expensive garments. A nicely tailored, crisp white shirt with a wide collar. But the collar’s low enough so I can see the taut muscles in his neck and a teasing glimpse of his chest. His slacks are black with pristine lines down the front of each leg. I look up. His hair is shorter than it was when he left. But it is him.

  “Corin?”

  I run around him, trying to see his face, but he turns away just as I’m in front of him. I keep moving. So does he. I go faster and faster. But he anticipates every move. I twist back on myself, changing direction, but he does it just that half a second before me again.

  “Corin! What—why are you doing this?”

  I stop and pant heavily, my hands on my knees. And that’s when I realize my shoulder isn’t hurting. I bring my left hand up to it, then push up the sleeve of the long shirt I’m wearing, push it right up. I swallow hard. The skin beneath the fabric is unblemished. All my skin is. It’s perfect.

  The Dream Land?

  My heart is pounding. Oh Gods, is this a warning? Are they in trouble? Do they need my help? I run to a window that wasn’t there a few seconds ago and peer out toward the sky. It’s a nice pale blue and is unmarked. There’s no bison.

  I run to the other side of the room, and a window appears there. I open it,
lean out. There’s no bison still. I look down…and nearly scream. Tiny dots below me—

  I feel his hands on my hips. I freeze. How did he get here?

  He pulls me back, folds me within his embrace.

  “You don’t want to fall, Shania,” he whispers into my ear. I smell strong liquor and feel his hot breath on the back of my neck in the most unpleasant of ways.

  I freeze.

  “Get away from her.”

  Raleigh turns—with me still in his arms—to face Corin. I can’t breathe. I try to move away from Raleigh, but can’t. His arms are too strong—of course he’d be strong. He’s the impossible man.

  “Leave her alone.” Corin raises the sword that appears in his hands. His face is full of a power I didn’t know he had. “I said, leave her alone. I mean now.”

  “You think you can beat me, boy?” Raleigh’s laughter sends shivers down my spine.

  Corin lunges toward us.

  And, suddenly, I’m flying across the room, but not toward Corin. My body catapults itself in the opposite direction, arms flailing. I land on the cold, tiled floor. I get up and I turn and I jump and—

  I can’t move.

  I am suspended in the air. Or, at least, that’s what it feels like. My body is weightless, but I can’t move. Just trying to move my fingers feels like my arms are breaking. Oh Gods! Help me!

  But they can’t. I can’t. All I can do is watch Corin and Raleigh fight.

  In the time I was flying, Corin’s already taken a blow to his shoulder. A red streak stretches across his shirt in the most precise of angles. He falters and grimaces, pulling a hand to his side.

  That’s when Raleigh stabs him. Stabs him with the longest knife I’ve ever seen.

  I shriek as Corin collapses to his knees, his body crumpling. But he doesn’t cry out or scream. He doesn’t make a sound.

  Raleigh’s advancing on him. He raises the extraordinarily long knife above his own head, and I have no choice but to watch as it’s plunged into Corin’s chest.