Escape from Harrizel (34 page)

Slow. Just go slow
.

With my hands outstretched, I push through
lush foliage, leaves slapping me when I release them too quickly.
My feet are dying to take off but I force myself to keep steady. No
matter how much I feel like running all the way back, I have to be
smart about this. I have to be cautious. Eventually, I make it to
Ellae, my eyes fully adjusting to the darkness. Everything is a
different shade of black. They all have their own hue, unique to
their pigment-like colors and I see it better.

With my heart pounding, I dive through the
ruins, swatting past the black and gray ivy, forcing my wobbling
legs to keep going. They have nothing left, only the fear racing up
my back and pushing me forward like an animal desperate to
survive.

Keep going, just keep going.

Beads of sweat trickle past my ears and down
my neck. I wipe them clean with the back of my hand, nearing the
front of the ruins again. Tripping on a hidden root, I fly forward
on the ground, my hands doing their best to reach out and protect
me but it doesn’t stop the exposed stone from cutting the top of my
cheek. A small wound drips a few red beads but I wipe them clean
too, pick myself up and keep going.

But which way?

How to get back?

Panic sets in. Everything looks the same.
Everything is indistinguishable. How did I expect to find my way
back? Gulping, I come to a halt, surveying. Is there any way to
tell? Any way at all?

Just as I consider the possibility of being
lost out here forever, a flicker of faint light sparks hope. Two
pairs of wings circle one another and I race toward them, my hands
out to block the path. The wings continue to circle each other,
suddenly joined by the third pair, the three sailing through the
night at a speed just slow enough for me to follow. They lead me
through Ellae until fluttering away, disappearing into the
shadows.

What now?

Up ahead, two fat bushes sit, cousins to a
grouping of thin trees—three trees. Relief blooms in my stomach as
the ivy-coated wall comes into view and I know I’m here.

Two bushes, three trees, one
wall
.

And sitting amongst a grouping of others,
another tree boasts a slanted carving mid-trunk and a coupling of
knots under a lower branch. I jet forward and pull back the door,
flying into the overwhelming darkness of the tunnel inside.

Blackness.

One step at a time. Follow the roots.

With my hands out, clutching the wooden
burrow, I force myself not to panic.
Don’t panic
. But I
can’t help it. My mind races with the thought of being alone
here—an immense labyrinth—in total darkness, no one knowing. My
heart pounds relentlessly, a bomb about to detonate any second.

Relax.

Focus.

Follow.

Just follow the grainy walls. I close my
eyes and move forward, led by the texture beneath my fingertips,
trusting their navigation. I travel quickly, but not fast, a few
times the texture suddenly changing. At this I halt. I back up
until feeling the correct material again and keep going in that
direction.

When I’ve got a good rhythm down, images
flood back. The hanging lips, the eyes staring blankly and jutting
spasms from elbows and fingers. Don’t think of that. Think of
getting back. Think of telling the others what you’ve found. They
need to know. This is key. If anything, make it back to tell them.
To give the others a chance.

I’m not sure how long I’m here, blindly
feeling my way through the blackness until my fingers graze over
the cool metal ladder. I pause instantly, my eyes jetting open. I
can’t see anything. But I wrap my fingers around the metal and it
comes vaguely into view after a minute. The Water Pole.

I’m inside the gate.

I keep going until coming to a dead-end.
Hard. Compact. Marble. I’ve reached the Castle. With the wall
ahead, the only option is left or right. I take the left on a whim,
jetting down the passage until meeting the grayed silhouette of a
stairwell. I fly up the steps and lean on the first silhouetted
door in the wall.

I’m on the second floor of the North East
corner. The tower is more or less empty with only a few moving
bodies dotting the corridors. Everyone’s most likely down at
Leisure Time or back in their rooms already, depending on the
time.

I arch my neck.

I have to get to the twelfth floor. Sucking
in a deep breath, I take off up the stairwell. At the sixth floor,
I pause, gasping for breath, holding myself to the railing. Six
more floors. And my legs are ready to quit now. Right now. And he
might not even be there.

Just a little farther.

Pushing on, I pull myself up, counting the
floors as I pass them.

Seventh…

Eighth…

Ninth…

Tenth…

Only two more. My legs can’t take it—they’re
breaking. But they’re still working. I’ll push them until they
won’t go. Until they’re useless limbs of jelly. And then, I’ll drag
myself.

Eleventh…

Twelfth…

Panting, I peer down the empty corridor,
counting for Reid’s door. My legs wobble beneath me as I come up to
it, pounding on the crimson arch. It opens immediately, Jace and
Tucker already guarding, ready to pounce. When they see me, they
stop, shocked. Reid is behind them, his eyes large as discs.

“Fallon?” he races toward me.

I rush into his arms and fall apart. My face
sinks into the safety of his shoulder as he lifts me, clasping me
to him. After a second he puts me down on the floor in front of
him, his eyes shifting between mine. When he speaks, his words are
both sharp and tender, worried and relived. “Are you okay? Where
were
you?”

“They’re out there…”

“Fallon,” he holds my face in his hands. His
eyes narrow at the cut on my cheek, on the mixture of dirt and
sweat plastered to my forehead and lips. “Are you okay?”

“I… I…”

“Are you
okay
?” he repeats his words
slowly, his dark eyes shifting between mine. His grip on my face is
secure—he’s not letting me go until he gets the answer he
wants.

I nod, tears swelling in my eyes. He needs
to know.
Now
. A few drops escape, soaring down my cheeks.
“I’m fine. I’m fine,” I think of the disfigured trees, of Hinson I
left behind. “But they’re out there…”

“Who?”

“
Everyone
.”

“Come here,” he pulls me to his bed and sits
me down. He’s next to me instantly, scanning, trying to read me for
injuries, for clues to what might have happened. His face grows
hard at my condition but he keeps himself receptive, his eyes
shifting between mine.

Able, Tucker and Jace crouch at my feet and
suddenly I remember I’m not alone with Reid. Clark is also here,
his back to the wall and his arms crossed over his chest. He’s
wearing a badge of confusion and surprised concern.

Reid takes my hand. “What happened?”

“I found them. I found
everyone..
.”

“Who’s everyone?” his eyes narrow further,
still searching me for injuries. “Are you talking about the Kings?
Did
they
take you?”

I shake my head. “I left. Past Ellae…
there’s this place and,” I gulp, “I found them—everyone who was
taken.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re all out there,” my voice shakes. I
wish he could see what I saw, wish I could transfer the image.
“Hinson,” I gulp again. “Hinson’s out there.”

“You found her body?” he tries.

“I found
her
. She’s sort of…
alive
.”

Reid shakes his head. “Fallon… Hinson is
dead.”

“But she was talking to Griffin at
first...”

“But how could…”

“I don’t know, I don’t know!” I snap, angry
he’s forcing me to bring him into the nightmare. “I don’t know how
it’s possible but it
is
,” my blood heats under the reality.
It’s worse than I imagined. Worse than all of us could have
imagined. But they need to know. They
need
to. “The missing
people
aren’t
dead. Something happened to them. They’re…
deformed
,” my voice trembles with the word. “Out in the
woods beyond Ellae.”

The boys lock eyes with one another—even
Clark.

Is she crazy? Do we believe her?

The questions are being tossed around in
long glances, no one ready—or willing—to counter. Could it all be
in my head? Could I have been hit so hard that I passed out,
imagined the whole thing and then woke up and escaped?

“Suit yourselves,” I jump from the bed,
suddenly aware of how weak I am. “I’m telling Sampson.” My legs
nearly give out but Able grabs a hold of my waist as I nearly
plummet to the floor. Reid is on my right side, wrapping his arm
around me, steadying me.

“We’ll tell Sampson together,” he wipes my
brow with his thumb. He surveys my face, his eyes lingering on the
cut on my cheek. He winces, “Did you really go out past Ellae?”

I nod.

“God, Fallon,” he shakes his head, squeezing
me to him. He doesn’t say any more but after a second turns to
Tucker. “Sampson at Leisure or in his room?”

“Last I heard Leisure,” Able shrugs, “but he
never stays that long. My bet’s his room.”

Reid turns to me, sliding his hand in mine,
“Let’s go.”

Clark exits first, followed by Able, then
Reid and me, Tucker and Jace. We all fly through the corridor,
taking the North East stairwell down to the fifth floor. My legs
are so unstable from all the climbing before, I have to stop
multiple times to wait for my muscles to ease up. At one point,
Able mumbles toward Reid, “I can carry her if you want.”

“If anyone carries her, I’ll carry her,”
Reid moves for me.

“No one’s carrying me,” I withdraw. “I’m
fine. Just exhausted. What floor is this?”

“Seventh,” Jace answers.

“Two more. Think you can make it?” Reid asks
with sincerity in his voice. If I say no, he’s ready to pull me
into his arms but I can do it. I nod, focusing on reaching Sampson.
We reach his floor and move down to his door. Reid knocks twice.
“Reid.”

He retrieves his sirolla and without waiting
for a response, opens Sampson’s door, our entire group piling in
without an invitation. Tucker pulls the door shut just as Sampson
turns from gazing out the window.

“Gentlemen,” his word is sad as though
prepared to address a mourning. But then he sees me, pleasantly
startled, relieved. “
Fallon
? I thought…” and he looks to
Reid.

“Wasn’t the Kings.”

“What happened?” his eyes scan mine
intensely. “Are you alright?”

Tucker, Able and Jace retreat for the wall
and bed on the right side of the bunker while Clark sticks to the
left. Reid remains a step behind me, always in reach. Taking a
heavy breath, I chisel it down to the roots. “I found the missing
people. They’re out in the woods, past Ellae,” I steady my voice,
“They’re not dead.”

Sampson’s brows pinch at the crescent of his
nose, his eyes in narrow slits, unconvinced.

“I don’t know how it’s possible, but it is,”
I’m anxious to defend myself. “They’re growing on the trees… or
into
the trees or something. I…”

“Where?”

Does this mean he believes me? “Past Ellae.
In the center of a thicket of trees.”

“Could you find your way back?”

“Of course.”

“And how did you find it?” his blue eyes
narrow further. “How’d you know where to go?”

“There were these bug-creatures…” I remember
them suddenly, “…black… but their wings turned white at night.
They
led me.”

“They’ve come to you?” Sampson’s interest
peaks at this piece of news. The room stills with the one question
on everyone’s mind.

“Who?”

But suddenly, Sampson remembers his company
and quickly shifts focus, “They led you, and then what
happened?”

“I heard something. A voice,” I gulp, “it
was Hinson. She was saying she wouldn’t forget the Marows…”

“What else?” Reid probes.

“Just that she wouldn’t forget them.
Then…”

“Then what?”

Another gulp. “Then she started trying to
bite at me. Like she was hungry.”

“How many?” Sampson asks. “How many people
did you see?”

“I don’t know,” I shake my head, suddenly
ashamed for being such a coward. “There were too many. Fields. And
they’re alive, all of them.”

“I know death when I see it, Fallon. Hinson
was dead.
Is
dead. We don’t know how she died but we know
something was done to her beforehand. Why else would this happen to
her corpse?”

“No. They were alive. I
heard
her.”

“Lingering voice cells… let me guess,
involuntary blinking?”

“But she called out for Griffin. She
knew
who Griffin was.”

“I can’t explain it, Fallon, I’m sorry.
Perhaps it’s some sort of unsuccessful reanimation…” and at this,
Sampson stops, stunning himself into a trance. As far as he’s
concerned, the rest of us have vanished as a curious, unsettling
look exudes from his vacant eyes. Something’s just snapped. Or gone
off. Or awoken in that mind of his that demands immediate
attention. What could he have stumbled upon?

“Oh dear,” the color returns to his cheeks
as he breaks the silence with quick, discomforting words. “I do beg
your pardon but I must leave immediately.” And with that, Sampson
flies to the door without a look at us.

Reid is at his heel. “What’s wrong? Can we
help?”

Turning, Sampson shakes his head
apologetically. “Something’s just come up. Something I need to go
over, in privacy. Quietly inform the others of what you know and
we’ll reconvene tomorrow at Camp,” he turns to me. “Fallon will
lead us back.”

When Sampson leaves, I spin to Reid. “You’re
going to tell the Rogues?”

“They need to know,” he turns to Tucker.
“Have the word put out for tomorrow at Camp, same as before.
Griffin too,” he places a hand on Jace’s shoulder. “Let them know
Fallon’s been found and to strike all former orders other than
normal assignments. Fallon,” and now Reid extends his hand to me,
“we need to do a walk-through. Let the others know you’re here. Put
to rest any rumors that the Kings are gaining ground.”