Escape from Harrizel (12 page)

We’re alone.

“Fallon?” her panicked voice calls. “Where
are you?”

“Right here,” I give my eyes time to adjust.
But they won’t. Or can’t. It’s too dark in here, too black to see
anything. How am I supposed to follow Pratt?

“Where are we?”

“I don’t know…” I extend my arms, feeling
the walls on either side of me. It’s a tight squeeze, like the
narrowed alleys of the Maze, but
narrower
—if that’s
possible. I take a step, wishing my eyes would acclimate
already.

“We should go back,” her voice quakes behind
me.

“No, we should go forward.”

“What?
Why
? We don’t know what’s up
there.”

“It could be a way out,” I suggest, another
step forward, my fingers tracing the wall on both sides.

“A way out of what?”

“Here.”

“But… but…” she reasons, her voice still
quaky, “we don’t even know where it goes. What if we can’t find our
way back? What if we get lost?”

“Raj,” I say, more gently this time, “we
have to
try
. This may be the only way out and if something
happens, we’ll need an escape. We’ll need to know how to get away.”
My thoughts turn to Hinson. Where is she now? Alive, even? There
was nothing but death in her eyes. “I wish we had some light.”

“Oh!” she squeaks as a soft glow suddenly
illuminates the tunnel. It’s still black in the far distance but
there’s enough light to see in front of us, if only by a few feet.
“We can use my Callix.”

Raj holds out a strand dotted with red, pink
and peach blossoms and I recognize it immediately as one of the
tresses from the tree out by the ruins. She hands it to me and I
bring it in close. Like little heartbeats, the blossoms pulsate
light beneath thin veils of the red, peach and pink petals.
Beautiful.

“You can use them as a light source,” Raj
explains, the shadows dancing around her face. “It’s not their main
function, but definitely a plus in our situation.”

“Function?” I move forward, holding the
strand in front of me like a lantern. She follows close behind,
nearly on my feet.

“Well, they’re Callix blossoms, said to
withhold the eternal fire burning inside,” her voice softens,
saddening. “You give them to someone you love.”

“Who told you this?”

“Sampson.” She frowns, waiting for my
response that says I should’ve known that. But it never comes.
“Haven’t you met Sampson yet?”

“No… ” I laugh, “I haven’t really met
anyone.”

Even though I’m still weary and her motives
unclear, I’m glad Raj decided to come. I’m even gladder she had a
Callix blossom on her, a surprisingly effective light source. It
illuminates a few feet ahead and holding it out in front of me, we
make our through the narrowed tunnel.

“Well you should really talk to him.”

“Who?”

“Sampson. He’s kind of like the
mediator.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know,” she huffs,
“
everything
. When there’s an issue. He tries to solve things
first so they don’t get Tetlak.”

“Who’s Tetlak?” The name rings a bell.

“The Dofinike from yesterday. The one who
took Hinson.”

I stop and turn toward her. “
That
was
Tetlak? The large one?”

“Yup. Terrifying, isn’t he?”

I shrug, following the curve of the tunnel
as we approach something ahead on the left. It climbs up the wall,
to the top of the blackened passage where the Callix’s light won’t
go. I stop and brush my fingers across the object’s cool metallic
texture. Like the Water Pole. Stepping back, I see it—a ladder
embedded in the wood or dirt or whatever this is.

“Where do you think this leads?” Raj fingers
the metal steps.

“My guess is the Water Pole, which means
we’re still inside the gate,” I lower the Callix, extending it
ahead of me again, “come on.”

We resume our steady pace. I debate telling
Raj about the ruins and their strange familiarity, but decide
against it. I don’t understand it myself. How could I expect her
to? We walk in silence for a few minutes, a new thought popping in
my head.

“Raj, how’d you get the Callix?”

“How’d I get the Callix?” she repeats,
buying time to choose her answer. But she knows like I do, what I’m
really asking.

“You’ve never been this way before,
right?”

“Right…” she’s hesitant to give answers.

“And I know you’ve never gone beyond the
gate.”

“No…”

“So you must’ve traded for it, right? Is it
like the Gupple? Is it a token?”

“I…”

“You work for the Clans,” I resolve, without
waiting for her response, “don’t you? You’ve been tailing me. To
find out information?”

“I…”

“To trade for this?” I hold up the
Callix.

No…” she whispers, “it was given to me… it
was a present,” she starts sniffling, her voice quaking in a way
that brings shameful knots to my stomach. I turn around, just as a
single bead escapes, running the course to her chin. “I know why
you think that but it’s not true,” she takes a breath, wiping the
lone tear and sniffling again. “I had a boyfriend. He got it for
me.” Another tear blooms and she swipes this one clean too.

“What happened?”

She keeps sniffling, cleaning her nose with
a knuckle. After a moment, she mutters in a low voice. “They took
him.”

“He went out past the gate?”

She shakes her head when an echo sounds from
the darkness. I throw Raj a stern look, indicating silence with a
finger pressed to my lips. Someone’s shouting, calling for another
but they must be a ways up because the words blur together. I take
Raj’s hands in mine and pull her along as we make for a light jog,
following the commotion.

It takes a few minutes for the sounds to
turn to words, as a faint glow of light glimmers ahead. I throw
Raj’s Callix behind me as we slow. “Put this away. Hide it.”

“But how will we see?”

“With their light,” I whisper, “but we can’t
be seen. Not yet.”

Raj does as I say, tucking the Callix back
into her shirt. We continue following at a good distance, moving
silently as the echoed words lead our way. Suddenly the brightness
dims along with the blurred conversation surrounding it. They’ve
stopped. They’re leaving. The exit must be up ahead.

“What’s happening?” Raj asks, going for her
Callix.

“Wait,” I indicate with my finger,
listening. The words are definitely gone and there is no more light
ahead. I inch my way closer, glancing over my shoulder at Raj.
“Okay.”

She pulls the Callix free.

About ten feet up lies a small stairwell
carved into the ground or dirt or whatever we’re in. Motioning for
the Callix, she hands it to me and I hold up the pinkish light,
examining the structure. I place one foot down, then the next. The
steps feel sturdy enough so I climb, following the stairs until
coming to a hard, curved wall with a round hook for a handle. I
slide my fingers through, holding the Callix in the other hand.

“Wait!” Raj cries. “What if… what if…”

“It’ll be fine,” I promise, glancing to her.
“But keep quiet and stick behind me. If I say run, turn back and
bolt.” I can see the fear building behind Raj’s eyes. “It’ll be
fine, okay? I’m here too. If anything… I’ll create a
diversion.”

Her mouth perks as she nods me on, pulling
at her fingers again.

I push the handle and the wooden ceiling
lifts, revealing the night sky over a misting jungle scene. We made
it!

Inhaling the damp plant life, I do a quick
scan. The dark trees sit undisturbed, mostly asleep, except for the
lavender bulbs and crimson petals humming at their base. Vines
swing from leaping insects which buzz from tree to tree. The wind
ripples through the leaves and it’s quiet again, but only until the
sound of dripping dew smacks the compact dirt, the flowers and
insects hissing along.

“Fallon?”

I climb free, the small opening carved from
a massive tree trunk. Motioning Raj next to me, she emerges and we
keep to a small crouch, scanning the area. We’re close to them. The
ruins. I can feel it like I did before, calling to me like last
time. Like instinct. Like a tiny voice I couldn’t hear until
now.

“Where are we?” Raj asks.

“The jungle,” I close my eyes, inhaling the
damp air. The ruins are close—just up ahead. I set out on a light
jog. “This way.”

“Wait!” Raj follows and in minutes, we round
the same cluster of trees and come upon them.

The ruins sink in like fire, sparking me
alive again. I try to will their memory, their familiarity but
nothing appears. No image projects itself and for a second, I think
I’m making it all up. But I’m not. It’s the feeling I get. The
feeling I’ve been here before, when these broken walls were whole
and housed families. A small village, maybe.

“What
is
this place?” Raj passes the
first broken wall, her fingers draping along the velvet ivy.

Crunch, crunch!

We both drop as the sound of low growls sail
on the night breeze toward us. Raj’s terrified eyes find mine, like
a frightened animal aware it’s about to become a meal. I gesture
her toward me and she darts over as quickly as she can, her body
shaking. I hold her face in both my hands, forcing her to steady.
We’ll be fine if she stays calm. If she listens to me and does as I
say.

Motioning her to follow me, I crawl into a
tiny space between two trees, camouflaged by a thicket of overgrown
yellow-tipped leaves. We sit, hunched over and silent. Another
round of growls grows louder as the hissing vowels pour forth. Raj
tenses beside me. I put my hand on hers and squeeze. The sounds
grow louder and she starts shaking again. I squeeze her hand
tighter just as someone cups her mouth from behind. I go to strike
its owner but my own mouth is silenced by a set of forceful
fingers.

He pulls me back into him whispering.
“Quiet.”

I recognize the voice instantly. It makes
sense for Reid to remain close to the tunnel. Camp where there’s a
guaranteed escape, a guaranteed exit for necessary retreat. But we
can’t retreat now. That’s the problem. A
crackle-crackle
,
crunch-crunch
sweeps the jungle floor followed by grunting
growls drifting toward us.

I see Raj across from me. A boy with dark,
reddish brown hair, a nose full of orange freckles and serious,
almost ugly eyes sits rigidly still, his hand grasping her mouth
like a grenade. Pratt is next to them, throwing a curious look at
Raj before tossing a somewhat softer, amused one at me.

So I made it.

Raj is about to scream until she does a
quick survey of our company and her face relaxes. A knee in the
same powder blue scrub barely pokes into view to my left, and then
three hands—one belonging to an older white man and the other two,
black, with long feminine fingers—come into view. The man lowers
his hand in soft gestures, indicating silence. I can’t see either
of their faces. Reid keeps me motionless, his arm locked around my
waist and his fingers digging molds into my cheek, clamping my jaw
shut.

Crunch-crunch, crackle-crackle!

Following the footsteps comes a light
skirting and scraping, a sweeping of leaves by something large and
unresponsive. It sails through the fallen foliage like a ship on
the ocean, parting the jungle floor with its unwelcome intrusion. I
feel Reid shake his head. The boy across from us—the one holding
Raj—acknowledges Reid’s gesture and tightens his hand on her mouth.
Her eyes dart around as she begins shaking like before.

The sounds get louder.

Raj’s captor stiffens, his other arm locking
her to him. She’s shaking less but still can’t stop completely. All
crouched a few feet above the ground, we’re below knee level and
peering through the patch of openings ahead. With the shield of
leaves, we view the open ruins like a stage in the distance.

They’re here.

Three Dofinikes in true form. Tetlak, I
recognize immediately. He reigns above the other two as they
respond to one another in playful tones. They offer quick
exchanges, their whiskers flapping with exaggeration before Tetlak
turns and grunts, steam pouring through his own. The guards still
at once and Tetlak turns, continuing over sunken cobblestones as he
moves through the ruins. The two follow without complaint, each
carrying the pinched end of a net tied over their shoulders. The
net extends down, strapped around a large, motionless mass,
dragging along the jungle floor behind them.

A foot appears first.

Hung up in the right pinch of the net, the
foot is attached to a limp, slightly blue leg and then, to the body
of a girl. She’s naked, discolored with a metallic tint except for
her stomach, where a crimson canal sweeps below the navel, gutting
her from hip to hip.

I suppress the rise of bile in my throat,
praying Raj doesn’t open her eyes. But it’s too late. She’s shaking
again, convulsing almost, as I feel my own restraints tighten. To
the left, the older man’s hand signals for quiet and once Raj
notices this—as if, by some unknown, magical force—she ceases
squirming and obeys. Closing her eyes, her body stills to the
likeness of a statue. Her brows soften, relaxing as she drifts away
somewhere peaceful, as if hypnotized.

The dead girl’s body drags on.

Purple nipples, a bluish neck and then the
tip of the chin appear. Her head is rolled toward us and for a
fleeting minute, I want to shut my eyes and join Raj in her
vacation. But I don’t. The face passes and I see what I already
knew. The same frantic eyes from the other day, the ones I couldn’t
tear myself from. Glazed over. Empty.

Gone.

All that fear, like her life, has been
extracted from this empty corpse, so different from the terrorized
life inhabiting it before. Her hair sweeps past. Golden, out in the
day, but here it lays gray and soiled, matted with a nest of tiny
rocks and broken leaf fragments collected in its sweep of the
jungle floor.