The Mountain

by Kevin George

  Carli did not feel scared or sad, nor did she give a second thought to Wyatt, except for feeling sorry for what he was about to witness. Instead, she felt regret, but not for the decisions that had led her to a plunging death. She thought about her room in the Main HASS and regretted not having a chance to take her belongings with her when she’d left; for that matter, she regretted not having a chance to see her room a final time, the room where she’d spent countless hours, the room where she’d hung out with her sister or talked to her father or hugged her mother for the very last time. She regretted her final interactions with her father and sister. Most of all, and strangest of all, she wondered if her sister had ever gotten married and regretted not being there if she had.

  Even though we always argued, I would’ve stood beside her on the most important day of her life, Carli thought, wanting to cry at the idea of anyone else—or worse, nobody at all—standing next to her sister at that special moment. With the rocks and certain death seconds away, Carli closed her eyes and imagined blue skies and white clouds and standing at the railing of the Main HASS, looking out at other HASSes still connected to them, a kingdom in the sky that she never appreciated until realizing she’d never see it again. . .

  When a hand clamped onto her ankle and yanked her to a stop, Carli unleashed a cry that was part relief, part pain and part exhaustion. She opened her eyes and saw she was dangling upside down, less than ten feet from the blood-spattered rocks. A muffled thwup was followed by a short flight away from the rocks, where she was lowered to the ground and unceremoniously dropped in the snow. Carli lay still for several seconds, breathing deeply while ignoring the heavy crunching of snow nearby, as well as the massive shadow that loomed over her. Carli knew who’d rescued her without needing to look, but she wasn’t ready to face the truth of why she’d been saved.

  The same couldn’t be said for Wyatt. Carli heard a second set of footsteps moments later.

  “Back away from her!”

  The looming shadow didn’t move. Carli sat up and saw Wyatt rushing toward her, his footsteps slow and clumsy in the snow. She finally looked up at the man looming behind her, a man taller and broader than she’d ever seen. At least she thought he was a man, not that she’d ever seen a human that looked like him. His neck and arms were covered with feathers of different colors, his facial features more angular than those of a normal human.. Carli couldn’t tell if the strange man who’d saved her—and who’d nearly caused her death in the first place—was the most beautiful or horrific thing she’d ever seen. . .

  Either way, the winged man didn’t look down at her, nor did he budge. He stared at the red rocks and pinkish snow nearby, his brow wrinkled and eyes sad. He didn’t turn to the two humans until Wyatt reached Carli and helped her onto wobbly legs.

  “You don’t have weapons,” Love said in a sing-song voice that surprised Wyatt and Carli alike.

  Wyatt held onto Carli’s arm. Together, they retreated a few steps. Knowing they’d never get far without the winged man catching them, Wyatt stopped, shielded Carli from their attacker and held out his hands.

  “We don’t want trouble,” he said before lifting his sleeve to reveal the GPS device strapped to his wrist. “We’ve traveled a long way to follow the signal sent by your beacon.”

  Carli pointed at the sky and the three looked toward the clouds. Wyatt quickly explained the existence of HASSes and how alliances had once been made between the most promising of potential survival stations.

  “As far as we know, contact between stations was cut off long before any of us were born,” Wyatt continued. “But the plan was centered around the original founder of One Corp.”

  “The Descendant,” Love muttered with a frown, turning his attention back to The Mountain.

  “Ancestors, actually,” Wyatt said. “Stories have been passed down from generation to generation of those living aboard the HASS, stories about a day when survivors of the stations were supposed to come together if the world’s weather conditions didn’t improve. We’ve seen no evidence that anything exists beyond the Frozen Wasteland.”

  Carli grabbed Wyatt’s arm and spun him around. “I never heard that part of the story.”

  “Nothing but snow,” Love whispered, though neither human heard.

  “I’m sure your father would’ve told you one day, if, of course, the Ellison family knew the entire truth,” Wyatt said with a tinge of bitterness.

  “My father knew everything,” Carli said defensively. “He must’ve been waiting for the right time to tell me.”

  “The right time for my parents was when I was very young, but that was probably because they expected our HASS to be severed years ago,” Wyatt said. “I’m sure most HASS leaders keep that part of the story from their children until they became older and more invested in leadership. Your family wanted to stay on the HASS, where it was safe, where they were safe. Your father must’ve figured that if you’d learned the truth about the alliance, you would’ve pushed for a return to the surface.”

  “I understand that, but not why you never told me,” Carli said.

  “I know you’ve wanted to return to the HASS for weeks,” Wyatt said. “You thought I haven’t noticed, but I catch you looking toward the sky all the time. I thought if you didn’t know about the supposed alliance until we reached The Mountain and found One Corp., you’d be less likely to abandon me and the mission. I couldn’t have that happen, I couldn’t have you leave in case anything bad were to ever happen to—”

  “How dare you question my loyalty to you or the mission,” Carli snapped. “I put my life on the line time and again, all to reach this point. You didn’t think I was worthy to know the entire story because I’d want to return home? You’re right, I do miss the HASS and my family. I had plenty of chances to fly off and look for my home, but I never did, not even when that was the only thing I wanted. Now tell me the rest of the story and what this alliance with other survivors is supposed to accomplish.”

  “I. . . I’m sorry,” Wyatt said.

  “I don’t want sorrys, I want answers,” Carli said.

  “I don’t know them,” he said before turning to Love. “But I’m sure if there’s still a Jonas in charge of this place, he’ll know the next step in the plan to survive this frozen world. Has anyone here been in contact with survivors of other stations located throughout the—”

  The popping sounds that cut off Wyatt mid-sentence surprised them all, even though Carli had heard the same noise minutes earlier. This time, she needed a moment to remember what had caused them. She looked at the ground and saw a splash of blood cutting through the white snow before remembering the word ‘gun.’ Her breath caught in her throat and she felt like she couldn’t inhale, especially when she looked through Wyatt’s visor and saw his eyes widen in shock.

  Wyatt pulled off his helmet before stumbling forward and collapsing to his knees. A thin line of blood ran from the side of his mouth. Love spun and scanned the ground for who’d shot at them, but it wasn’t until Wyatt pointed up that Love spotted the drone speeding toward them. Without hesitation, Love lowered his head and flapped hard a single time, propelling himself forward, barely a foot above the ground. Carli continued to stare in shock at Wyatt, barely able to shake her head or comprehend what was happening, even as the popping gunfire continued to rain from above. She didn’t flinch before Love crashed into her, sending the two tumbling into the snow, just as the drone’s bullets hit where she’d been standing. Love remained draped atop her as he looked up to see the drone fly past them.

  When the initial shock of the attack wore off, panic erupted within Carli, who pushed the feathered man off her. She scrambled to her feet and rushed across the snow, where Wyatt remained kneeling, his head drooped, staring down at several blood stains spreading across his torso. Carli fell to her knees beside him, reaching a hand to him but not touching him for fear of making things worse. Wyatt struggled to lift his head and frowned when his eyes met hers.

  �
��I never told you. . . something else important. . . about the story,” he said.

  Carli shook her head. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

  Wyatt’s face hardened, and though blood streamed from his mouth and his breath came in wheezing gasps, his voice took on a newfound strength.

  “I know how One Corp. was supposed to try saving humankind; all HASS leaders knew,” he said. “I should’ve told you sooner, but I didn’t want to burden you. I should’ve told you. . . everything.”

  He coughed a splatter of blood into the snow in front of him and began to pitch forward. Carli caught him and kept him upright but felt an utter lack of strength in his body.

  “Only one person in The Mountain will know what’s. . . supposed to happen. . . next,” he said, each word growing weaker.

  The winged human approached Carli from behind, his shadow engulfing her and Wyatt, warning her that the drone was on its way back, that he didn’t know why it was attacking since he was there, that he didn’t think it would stop firing until they were all dead. But as Wyatt gurgled his final breaths, Carli waved Love away and leaned closer to hear Wyatt’s last two words, a name only known to history, a name that caused Carli to shake her head in confusion.

  “No, that’s impossible,” Carli told him. “You said he was the original—”

  But Wyatt’s body slumped to the side. When Carli tried to hold him up, his head lolled onto his shoulder, his eyes open but no longer seeing, the trickle of blood no longer coming out of his mouth. Carli shook her head but couldn’t find the breath to say a single word or cry a single tear. She felt an emptiness in the pit of her stomach that she hadn’t experienced since the day her father came to her bedroom aboard the HASS with news about her mother leaping over the railing. . .

  “Please, it’s coming to attack again,” Love said, his head flitting from the dead boy to the unmoving girl to the drone that had just finished turning toward them.

  When he tried to help the girl stand, she swatted an arm at him. Love stood in front of the girl and spread his wings wide, holding up a hand to signal the drone to stop. The drone’s guns began to flash anyway, kicking up puffs of snow less than fifty feet in front of Love, the line of bullets coming closer to him and the girl. He shook his head, knowing that whoever was controlling the drone could see him, knowing that those inside The Mountain no longer cared if he lived or died.

  Just like the first time I was tossed over the ledge, he thought, hoping the drone would stop firing or turn away. It did neither, and he watched the drone fly closer and closer, seconds away from reuniting him with his mother. He was suddenly jarred from the side and knocked to the ground, a body crashing atop him. As they collapsed into the snow, the line of bullets missed them by inches and the drone zipped past overhead. Carli rolled off him, her eyes wide and red and glassy.

  “That thing was trying to kill you, too,” she called out.

  Love shook his head. “No, it must’ve been a mistake. I’m the savior. I’m the only one that can find the. . . Descendant.” The words no sooner left his mouth than he felt his stomach sink. “The Jonas.”

  Carli stared toward the sky, where the drone was banking to make its next attack.

  “We need somewhere to hide,” she said frantically.

  Love shook his head, his jaw clenched. He stood and flapped hard a single time, shooting a dozen feet off the ground before fluttering his wings to hover in place.

  “There’s nowhere to hide,” Love called down as the drone began firing again. “If you want to honor your friend’s plan, come with me and I’ll lead you inside.”

  Carli opened her mouth to tell him about the armed guards above, but with a few heaving flaps, the winged man launched himself higher. Carli turned to Wyatt’s slumped form. She tried not to stare at the area of red spreading in the snow around him. Grief and guilt threatened to overwhelm her but standing in place would end with her suffering the same fate he had. Carli had no doubt Wyatt wanted her to survive. She closed her eyes and mashed the power button, shooting skyward for several seconds before finally looking to see where she was going.

  The winged man continued to fly up and she followed, catching up moments later. Despite his awesome size and power of his wings, Carli’s jetpack allowed her to fly more quickly than he could. But when she finally glanced down and saw the drone following them, she knew neither one of them could outfly the flying weapon.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Emma snapped awake, continuing the cry of agony that had preceded her falling unconscious. She didn’t know how long she’d gone black, nor did she know if she’d stopped screaming. She could do nothing but wriggle her body, the chafing of restraints rubbing her skin raw, that pain nothing compared to the fire digging deep into her hip.

  Through teary-eyed vision, Emma saw the old man’s face bent over her, his eyes filled with concern but his words filled with alarm. In the moments Emma gasped for breath between screams, some of the old man’s words managed to reach her ears.

  “Please, I know it’s painful but try to remain still or we’ll have to start all over,” Will called out.

  “Knock her out with something,” Billy grunted.

  With a final violent spasm, a wave of heat washed across Emma’s body and she went still. Every nerve in her body felt like it was erupting, but she no longer had the strength to move. She barely clung to consciousness. A part of her wished the old man would take the advice and somehow knock her out.

  “There, there,” Will said, stroking her head.

  He undoubtedly meant it as a soothing gesture, but his touch felt rough against her skin. Emma wished she had the strength to yell for him to stop.

  “Don’t bother,” Billy said through gritted teeth.

  “We may be forced to do this, but we don’t have to be animals about it,” Will told his son. “We can show sympathy.”

  “Do you think your other children are being afforded that luxury? Do you think if those animals discovered our true last name that they’d hesitate to put you or me or my other siblings onto this table?”

  “Of course not,” Will said. “But that doesn’t mean you have to enjoy this part, especially since the girl is related to—”

  “I’m not enjoying any of this,” Billy snapped before thrusting the needle deeper into Emma’s hip, twisting it with all his strength. Emma’s body jerked instinctively. Just when she thought the pain couldn’t get worse, a new wave of torture struck as she felt the needle trying to carve into the back of her pelvis. She didn’t hear when Billy snapped at his father, but the old man lay across her body to keep her as still as possible. Merciful blackness eventually dragged her away. . .

  When Emma’s eyes fluttered open again, the old man no longer held her down and Billy no longer stood over her. Excruciating pain had been replaced by dull aching in her side. Emma wanted to cry but didn’t have the energy. She groaned instead, instantly regretting the sound when a blur of movement arrived at her side. She tried to turn away but found herself still strapped down. The old man reached for her and she closed her eyes, not wanting to see or know what he intended to do. A moment later, she was able to take a deep breath, as if a weight had been lifted off her.

  She opened her eyes to see Will pulling the restraining strap away from her chest. He proceeded to do the same with the ones across her midsection and legs. Emma remained completely still, her mind formulating a plan to wait patiently and spring an escape attempt once she was free. As soon as the last strap was removed, she sat up quickly, ready to attack either white-coated man that had tortured her. But her vision spun so quickly that she nearly fell off the table, which would’ve happened had the older man not caught her. Emma took several slow, deep breaths, sitting upright only because she held onto Will’s arm.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Billy asked, rushing across the room while holding a massive needle filled with reddish liquid. Emma shuddered at the sight of him and what he held.

&nbs
p; “She needs rest,” Will said. “Someone can at least return her to her room while we’re in the other lab.”

  “And if we don’t figure out the Blast on our first attempt, do you think that freak show will let us wait weeks to take more marrow?” Billy said, shaking his head. “It’s better to leave her strapped down in case we have to come back.”

  Emma forced herself to stand, her hip exploding in pain, causing her lightheadedness to become worse. She pulled away from the older man and tried to rush away but didn’t make it two steps before stumbling to a knee. Will helped her back, holding her elbow even as Emma mumbled and tried to free herself.

  “She won’t survive being drained of too much,” Will said.

  Billy shrugged. “I don’t like it either, but if we don’t do it, they’ll kill us and then someone will drain her anyway. We just have to figure out the Blast the first time.”

  The younger scientist swept out of the room, not looking back. The two men standing guard in the hallway peered inside, both of their faces twisting in concern as Will helped Emma toward the door.

  “We weren’t told she could leave,” said one of the guards.

  “She’s not leaving,” Will snapped. “She’s accompanying me to—”

  Without warning, one of the guards leveled his weapon at the old man. “The girl stays here.”

  Will remained in place, glaring down the barrel of the gun, feeling more of Emma’s weight in his arms. He glanced at the young woman, whose brow was furrowed in anger, though her eyes threatened to roll into the back of her head. He doubted she would make it down one hallway before passing out.

  “Lower your weapon or I smash this,” Billy said. The guards looked to the younger scientist, who held the syringe of reddish liquid above his head.