She buttoned up her courage and followed the ridged footprints. Her mouth blotted, she scooped another handful of unblemished snow into her mouth.
Was it her imagination or was the little pile of stones next to the tracks a mini cairn signalling a junction? The prints led purposely away from the track into the forest. She placed her feet in the larger plates lest someone followed her. Now and again she saw a snapped twig as if the beast was making a new trail. This was not a creature of habits.
She came upon a clearing, footprints stamped right over it, unconcerned with followers. But it was an exposed piece of ground so Ishbel skirted round, hugging the tree line until she picked up the prints on the other side.
She remembered the trap from before, so, with one eye on the prints and one on the lookout for traps it was impossible for her to watch her back.
In the distance she heard the rumble of a Transport, then the boom as it buzzed past overhead. She threw herself to the ground then cursed her stupidity. It was too high to see her in this light but it unnerved her just the same. She was days from the Bieberville border. Why were they flying over this Arctic wasteland?
A dark mass thickened the tree trunks, changing the shadows from within the forest. There was a familiarity about the shape and suddenly an image of Dawdle flashed in her mind. He infuriated her but oh, how she wished he was here right now. She crept closer and noticed the footprints stopped. She almost let out a laugh because there, propped up against a tree trunk, was a pair of snow shoes, webbed and roughly fashioned. Discarded and flattened plastic bottles threaded through with blue rope to form straps. She should have known what they were. Hadn’t she worn them as a child in her northern homeland? She shook off the memory because the owner of the shoes was on the other side of the camouflaged structure. She crept nearer and detected a smell of wood smoke but it was stale, not from a burning fire but from the night before, perhaps.
She drew her battered gun from where it nestled beside her hip bone, always a reminder of her tyrant father. She hated him and his gun but often old technology was best for the kill.
She eased a branch aside and saw the rusted white paintwork of the van. Of course, that was what it was. A dead Noiri van left in some remote spot, to hold emergency supplies for Noiri operatives in danger. Dawdle had led her, with Scud and Reinya, to one near the souterrain community. It had saved their lives. And now someone was living in one out in the forgotten winterland.
She listened and through the yowling of the wind and the creaking of the trees she heard a song. A male voice, singing a song of her ancestors. Mouth music designed to help along the toil of life’s labours.
The rear door was closed. She yanked it but it was stuck. Damn. The singing stopped. She scrambled round to the side and tried the door there. It opened first time. She pushed her gun in first. ‘Hands up,’ she said.
The cold of steel touched her ear followed by warm breath. ‘No, Ishbel, you put your hands up.’
She dropped the gun and turned to face her daemon.
Sorlie
We slept in relays, taking turns at keeping watch, two hours each. We didn’t know what else was out there and we didn’t want the rest of our goods to disappear. I took the last watch, death of night before dawn. I climbed on the roof of the van and huddled into my blanket. It was fourth quarter, the dying season. Normal conditions in this part of Esperaneo were wet and windy but tonight it was clear and cold so at least I would be dry. I wondered how Ishbel was progressing with her mission. The little Pa had told me was that she was in the far north of Esperaneo, many hundreds of kiloms from us. It was cold enough here, it would be freezing where she was. And where were Pa and Scud? Would they be in Black Rock now? I’d been forbidden contact. I remembered the smell seeping from Pa’s leg and prayed to my ancestors to send a decent healer to help him.
Through the black night I could just pick out the flickering from the kids’ fires high on the rampart, burning brighter than they needed to keep wolves at bay. They kept burning all night as if the Military held no fear for them but some unknown bogeyman did. I suppose we’re all afraid of some unknown in the dark. The smoke drifted towards me forming a spooky mist hovering just above ground level. It stank of melted plastic and mud.
I still couldn’t work out how Pa managed to pull all the underground forces together in a common cause: Vanora’s NFF, set up twenty-five years ago, supposedly to free the natives, but all it seemed to be was empire building for Vanora. It was easy to see how her devotees became disillusioned and willingly followed Pa. Monsieur Jacques’ Noiri, I wasn’t so sure about. The Noiri was a huge underground black market. Did Jacques maybe believe his profits would increase if the State was defeated? Whatever Pa promised Jacques, it was sure to involve profit. They were now all focused on this one campaign and yet each part had no idea what the other’s part was leading to. It was like some ancient farce where actors moved in and out of scenes. I just hoped that it would all work out. The Star of Hope – if successful, Pa assured me, would crush the State for good. Easier said than done. And from what I’d gathered so far, The Blue Pearl army was the same ragtag bunch Vanora commanded, only bigger. And if that were true why was it just Ishbel and me heading these missions? What else was going on?
All was quiet but above the stench of burning plastic, the air still reeked of the perpetual sourness of our world. Water and mud everywhere, encroaching, suffocating and drowning all hope for the future. There must be a better future than this.
I heard Reinya turn in her sleep and give a sigh. She was bound to be still suffering over her baby’s death. She’d never mentioned him since she flipped over the prison ship destruction. Harkin had predicted an illness might overwhelm Reinya, but didn’t elaborate; something to do with hormones. It might take a while for her chemicals to stabilise, Harkin said. Harkin knew so much. No, best not to think of Harkin. But as I stared into the night I failed to put Harkin out of my mind. I wanted her to walk out of the mist towards me. And then Reinya climbed up beside me, handing over a brew.
‘All quiet,’ I said.
She smelled of rank milk and groaned as she eased herself down to perch beside me.
‘Sore?’
‘Uh hu.’
‘Maybe you should have stayed behind in Steadie.’
‘Don’t start all yur Privileged shite, Sorlie. This needs sorted. What’s the point in bringin the next generation into this chaos?’ I could see tears stand on her lids. ‘You saw those little kids back there. What future do they ‘ave? They live like rats on a landfill.’
‘I just want things to go back to the way they were before.’
‘Before what? Thur lives ‘ave always been like that.’
I knew what she meant. My life had been so different to hers. So cushy before Ma died and Pa disappeared. Reinya wasn’t finished with me.
‘Get real, Sorlie. We, the kids, ‘ave to make up the rules now. You ‘eard him.’ She pointed to the cab where Dawdle slept. ‘Survival o the fittest and he knows ‘ow that’s done. So let’s get this done. My body wull ‘eal.’
What about the mind? I thought but didn’t voice these words.
Behind us in the camp a fire died from raging to flicker, to black. The silence was eerie. Hairs stood on my neck. The air so still. Suddenly a wail rose in the night that reminded me of the screams I heard in Black Rock that I now knew were the result of the DNA experiments.
‘What..?’
‘Probably an animal,’ I said. But I knew that wasn’t true.
‘An animal?’ Reinya asked. ‘Sounds like it’s comin from the kids’ camp.’
‘We should go.’
‘Don’t be soft Sorlie, not in the dark. Don’t you know? This is cowboy country. What do you think we ur keepin guard for?’
Daylight crept into the sky and a faint glow of a hidden sun shimmered in the east. Dawdle climbed onto the roof,
scratching his stubble chin, yawning.
‘Whas happenin?’
‘We need to go back. Something’s up at the kid’s camp,’ I said.
‘No way, son, we’ve a long way tae go.’
‘Look.’ Reinya said. ‘We ‘eard screams.’
‘Nut! Let’s get goin.’
‘No Dawdle, look, there.’ She pointed to the castle that now stood out in the growing light. The sun flag no longer flew.
‘Means nothin. It’s probably a trap tae get mair loot fae us.’
‘You didn’t ‘ear the scream. They might need ‘elp, they’re just little kids.’ I let Reinya go on. She had a better chance of persuading Dawdle.
‘No.’
‘Yes.’
‘Enough,’ I shouted and jumped to the ground. I ran to the canoe and struggled to pull it into the water.’
They both stood on the cab and watched me.
‘We’d be quicker walkin thun tryin to paddle upstream,’ Reinya said as she louped down to join me.
‘OK.’
We left Dawdle foaming mad by the van and crept towards the castle.
The ground between the van and rampart was open with ruined buildings in the way so we juked from building to building, crouching low behind walls to make sure no one could see us.
We smelt it before we saw it. Piles of rubbish smouldering in a pit, which explained the raging fires. I saw a couple of baseball bats piled on the pyre like stacks of bones, the heavy fumes of the plastic polluting the air. The rabbit hutches lay open and empty. Not a kid in sight.
‘Where are they?’ I asked Reinya, not expecting an answer.
‘Who knows? Now let’s get the hell out o here.’ It was Dawdle. He’d followed us after all.
‘Maybe they moved to a better camp.’ But even as I said it I knew it wasn’t true.
We heard a booming to the south.
‘Heavy artillery,’ Dawdle said.
‘What’s that?’
‘Weapons they used tae use before cyberattacks and short range missiles.’ Dawdle said. ‘There’s a base near here and we better git.’
Reinya wandered about the scattered pieces of the little kid’s lives, bending down now and then to pick up a fragment before throwing it on the embers. She rooted under the tattered flag lying trampled on the ground.
‘Aw, look.’ In her hand she held a rag doll. ‘They ‘ad so little.’ Suddenly she jumped up. ‘What’s that?’
‘Nothing, let’s go.’ Dawdle walked away, back towards the van.
‘Uh ‘eard somethin.’ She dropped the doll and scrabbled up the wall and crawled out of sight like a lizard. A scream followed by Reinya’s shout came from above.
‘Stupid bitch,’ Dawdle said.
Shoeless dirty soles wriggled through the gap in the wall then small legs in torn leggings appeared. The girl Dawdle had called a brute landed at our feet and Reinya followed by leaping off the wall like a ninja.
‘Oww!’ she said wrapping her arms around her chest.
The girl had lost her gallus air. Snot ran down her face into the corner of her mouth. When she licked it away I felt my stomach churn.
‘Where did they go?’ I asked her.
‘Harvest.’
‘That doesn’t make sense, it’s fourth quarter, the dying season.’
‘’arvest what?’ Reinya asked. The girl pointed to herself. I noticed Dawdle backing away.
‘Where did they take thum?’ The girl stared at Reinya as she asked her question. She pointed south.
‘Told ye,’ Dawdle said from the side of the camp. ‘Military’ll have them at the base. They’ll be safe.’
‘But why ‘arvest?’ Reinya wasn’t letting go.
‘Search me,’ he said.
‘Well we’re no leavin ‘er.’
The girl clocked her kingdom and a tear rolled down her cheek. She looked just like a wee kid whose play den had been destroyed
‘Let’s see what we can salvage here and get on,’ I said. ‘Mon wee hen.’ Reinya snorted. ‘What?’
‘You. Yur startin to sound like Dawdle. Uh thought the point o ‘avin a Privileged with us was to make it easier to get past the guards. “Mon wee hen.”’
Dawdle found this less funny. ‘There’s no enough room in the canoe,’ he growled at us from the sidelines.
‘That’s rubbish and you know it,’ I said.
He drew me aside. ‘Can you no see?’
‘See what?’
‘Look at her, man.’
‘All I see is a grubby kid. She looks a bit strange but some natives are like that.’
‘Look at her hair, her eyes. The length o her arms. The way she speaks. She’s no one o us.’
‘What are you on about?’ But I did look closer and he was right. Thoughts of Black Rock and the DNA experiments came whooshing back to me. Scud had become a mutant on Black Rock. His native alleles diluted out of him. The State’s aim was to create a pure Privileged race but the experiments killed more natives than they turned. Word on the wire claimed the State had abandoned the experiments and were concentrating on something else.
But this girl was different. If she wasn’t a special, if she wasn’t a mutant, what was she?
‘She looks like one o those Neanderthals,’ Dawdle said as if tracking my thoughts.
Reinya gaped at us as if we were mad.
‘Don’t be soft,’ she said. ‘They died out with the dinosaurs.’
‘Mebbes she’s a throwback, a mutant.’
I moved to key my communicator to check the spec but Dawdle clasped my arm.
‘No, no signal. We have tae go. And we leave that here.’
‘No.’ Reinya had the girl by the hand and was leading her towards the van and canoe.
The girl resisted and pushed Reinya over with ease. Her eyes were wild.
‘No, stay, brothers, sisters…’ She pointed south. ‘Must save.’
‘There, telt ye,’ Dawdle said. ‘That’s whit she means by harvest. This isnae a camp, it’s a nursery fur a new breed.’
But I knew Reinya was right, we couldn’t leave her. Reinya handed her the doll.
‘Was this yur sister’s?’ A tear rolled down the girl’s cheek and she nodded. ‘They’ve gone to the Military base. You must come with us,’ Reinya told the girl. The girl shook her head. I crept behind her. Reinya could see that. I expected Dawdle to give the game away but something was stopping him. He stared at his boots. He knew he had lost.
‘We’ll come back for thum.’ Reinya said, watching me approach from behind, her voice soft almost soporific. ‘You ‘elp us, we ‘elp you.’
I pounced on the girl’s back and wrestled her to the ground. The girl roared the scream I heard in the night. Reinya grabbed her arms while I tied her legs with the tattered flag.
Reinya said, ‘Uh’m so sorry, so sorry. Uh promise we’ll bring you back. Make it better.’
‘Ye realise this is kidnappin.’ Dawdle said as he walked away from us. His shoulders were slumped as if we’d punched the stuffing from him just by taking the kid. But it was more than that.
Ishbel
‘Merj.’
Before her stood her former lover. The man who’d betrayed Vanora. The man Ishbel had blown up on Black Rock during his fight with Sorlie. She had left him for dead then, arm blown off, eye damaged. The last time she’d seen him was back at Black Rock when he had revealed The Prince to the players. Then he’d still showed signs of injury. Now, he appeared his old self. The surgeons had performed a miracle. He’d always been handsome but now he was beautiful. His eye and cheek were completely repaired and his skin held a lustre any movie star would die for.
He held up his arm. ‘Good eh?’ His hand was encased in a glove but he wiggled fingers. ‘Of course it isn’t as good as it could be.
If we had old technology I could be rummaging my fingers through your hair.’
The image made Ishbel step back.
‘What are you doing here, Merj?’
‘We got word back at Freedom that you’d been betrayed and ambushed so I volunteered to help out.’
‘You were at Freedom?’
Ishbel had left Freedom only a few days ago and saw no sign of Merj then. She’d assumed he had gone back to Steadie with his new master, The Prince.
‘I’ve been to one of the other islands for reconstruction. The healer at the souterrain could only do so much in the primitive conditions and I knew Vanora had specialists working with new techniques on another island on the archipelago.’
‘What other island? I know of no working island under Vanora’s control.’
He grinned and part of his face did not move. Maybe the job wasn’t so good after all.
‘Oh, Vanora and her secrets. You know how I could always get around her. When she saw my damaged looks on Black Rock, she was only too happy to help. In return for certain favours, of course.’
Ishbel felt sick. Her mother was a stupid old woman when it came to pretty young men.
Merj looked behind her. ‘All alone? I thought one other got out with you.’
She felt her face tingle with the memory of that scalpel.
‘Huxton’s dead.’
The moment she began to tell Merj about the cannibals the colour drained from his face.
‘Enough. Don’t tell me any more.’
‘I had to kill him.’
‘I said enough, Ishbel.’ He turned from her and slammed his hand into the van panel, casting a heavy metal din round the forest she was sure they would hear in Bieberville. When she saw the indentation there she guessed it didn’t hurt his prosthetic arm as much as it hurt the van. He swallowed hard then hunkered to revive the ashes of a fire lying by the van front grille.
‘I’ll make you some food.’ His voice sounded choked.
Ishbel wasn’t sure what just happened but this was a side to Merj she hadn’t seen before.
‘Did you know where the camp was? Have you been there before?’
Star of Hope Page 11