Evolution (12 page)

Matt brings the truck to a stop in front of the
Sentries.  I glance at him and his jaw is tight.  He's not looking at
me.  He shuts off the ignition then opens his door and climbs out.  I
follow suit.

Jonas and Apollon hop out of the truck bed on my side. 
Apollon's eyes briefly find mine, though he says nothing.  I can’t help
but wonder what he’s thinking.  If he knows about Elaina now, which surely
he must.  Jonas walks past me as though I don't exist.  He moves
toward the front of the truck.  Toward the Sentries.  He and Matt
converge before them and cast long looks at each other.  Jonas is not
hiding, here, out of the Outpost.  This is the meeting of two alphas. 
But maybe he should be more cautious.  The Sentries are one metal step
away.

Jacob and Taylor cuss softly as they pull the slew of gear
from the bed of the truck and make a pile.  I opt to help them, rather
than get in the middle of anything else.  Once everything is out, I adjust
my coat, pulling up the fur-lined hood.  Then I pick my own pack out of
the mess and shoulder it.  I tighten its straps until the weight is
settled comfortably over my back.  I glance at Matt, Jonas, and
Apollon.  A moment ago I heard their voices, but now none of them
speak.  I share a look with Jacob, then sigh and wander over.

Jonas and Apollon, looking uneasy, move away to the
packs.  I let my eyes follow them.  They'll have to decide what to
take and what to leave.  They mumble to each other as they rifle through
their supplies and the ones Matt has provided.  Did they even know we’re
going through the wilderness, or did they still think we would travel by
road?  I look at Matt, seeking answers from his face, but there are none. 
He moves closer, slides his hand between my pack and the small of my back, and
pulls me to him.  His other fingers twine in my hair.  My hood
falls.  He buries his face in my shoulder.

I put my arms around him, too, though lightly, my palms
resting on his shoulder blades.  I'm aware—too aware—of Jonas and
Apollon.  But this moment is critical.  Matt has to be willing to let
me go.  Our lives... everything... depends on this.  Matt sighs
against me, and I hold him tighter.  I want to comfort him, make this
easier.  I want to convince him that it will be OK.  Not just
him.  Myself.  We stay just like that for moments.  I'm leaning
into him, maybe from the weight of the pack, but maybe not.  As I sense
our withdrawal nearing, a tiny jolt of panic seizes me.  I force it
away.  Footsteps crunch through the snow toward us.  Matt and I
separate.  I avoid his gaze and look away, squinting at the snow.  I
fix my hood and pull up the mask underneath so it covers my chin and nose.

Apollon tromps through the space between us, saluting Matt
as he goes.  "Merry Christmas," he tosses out cockily. 
"And God bless us, every one."  He keeps going, past the
Sentries.  Past the posts.  Jonas follows without a word or glance at
anyone.

Matt and I exchange looks.  He's not amused, but
neither of my friends are his focus.

I swallow hard.  Glance at Apollon and Jonas, moving
away.  Back at Matt.  My lips part, but I can't get any words
out.  I try again.  Then I turn away quickly.  For a moment, I
gaze after my friends.  Jacob and Taylor walk up behind me.  I lift
my face to the nearest Sentry and a chill passes through my whole body.  I
can’t believe what I’m about to do.  I step toward the Sentry, pushing all
the nightmare memories away, and thump it on the side.  “Let’s go, you
metal pile of shit.”  My voice sounds far braver than I really am.

The response to my command is abrupt.  The metal claw
closes on me and yanks me into the air.  We lurch into motion.  Jacob
and Taylor are caught up by the other Sentry, and we fly through the
snow.  I realize now I should have warned my friends, and it’s almost too
late.  I barely have time to shout at Apollon and Jonas before we’re upon
them, and they, too, are snatched into the air.

“It’s OK,” I yell across to them, even as I’m trying not to
vomit, myself.  They’re a tangle of limbs and wide eyes, trying to sort
themselves out, trying to process what’s happening.  “It’s ours,” I
reassure them.  “Our ride.  You’re safe.”

They stop struggling and throw me indignant, accusing
glares.

“A little warning next time, Eden,” Apollon says.

I nod and try to rearrange myself as well.  The metal
grip is almost too much to bear.  We hit the tree line and behind us comes
the revving of the truck's motor.  It falls away.  We’re moving in
the opposite direction at a rapid rate.  Though the thought feels somewhat
ironic while in the grip of a Sentry, I realize… after all this time, I'm
free.  No more Outpost.  No more Matt.  I should be elated now
that I’ve finally gotten what I wanted all along.  So why do I feel like
I've just lost something?

The trees stretch their arms over us, a tunnel of glistening
white.  I glance at the branches above, laden in crystals of ice, and
think of Matt's Christmas.  A few hours in, we’ve stopped for a
rest.  Stopped to stretch our legs and get ourselves out of the arms of
these hellish creatures.  But really, there’s not much
stopping
to
it.  As soon as they hit the ground, Apollon and Jonas started
walking.  So our group forges onward, the Sentries stalking along beside us. 
I eye the boys’ backs ahead of me.  Maybe they
do
know where we're
going.  Or maybe they're just walking.  Away.  For a while,
neither of them say anything or even look back.  We move in a line, a
string of us, disconnected by gaps in between.

Eventually, Apollon stops walking.  He's the first one
to come to the edge of the trees.  Jonas stops at his side.  They
both gaze out onto an open expanse of white.  I come up next to
them.  Apollon and I look at each other, then he eyes the Sentry behind
me.  Jonas just gazes away into the distance.  Jacob and Taylor catch
up, take in the openness before us, and grunt.

"You know where we're going?" I ask Taylor.

He nods.

"Lead on.  I want to walk on my own two feet for a
bit longer."

He doesn't protest.  Just starts out right away. 
Jacob hangs back with the rest of us.  Again, Apollon and I exchange
glances.  We start walking.  Jonas follows, and Jacob takes up the
rear, the Sentries moving along beside him.

In my peripheral vision, I catch Apollon glancing backward. 
I follow suit.  Jacob is probably out of earshot.  Taylor is far
enough ahead of us that he won't hear either.

"Should we come up with a plan?" Apollon asks, his
voice low, like he has made the same observations I have.

"This
is
the plan."

"This is the plan?"  He gives me a doubtful
look.

Behind us, a soft snort.

I ignore Jonas' quiet commentary.

"This is the plan," I say again, softly. 
"It's what we wanted.  It took me longer to accomplish than I
thought.  And Neveah and Miranda were supposed to be with us.  But
we're out.  This is where we were headed all along."  I look
back at Jonas, now.  I can't help it.  He doesn't look away, but he
doesn't meet my eyes, either.  I turn back to where I'm going.  The
white stretches onward until trees appear on the other side, tiny in the
distance.  "Who knew it was so big out here," I mumble.

We push onward, falling silent, the snow biting cold against
our legs and feet.  The wind is not bad today, but even the slight breeze
stings against my face.  I pull my hood tighter and adjust my mask,
shivering.  It’s awkward with the gloves making static.  Tiny pieces
of my hair keep tickling my eyes.  I'm going to have to get used to
this.  Cold and discomfort.  I can't help but think of the warm fire
back home.  Not home.  Outpost Three.  Matt's.

Before long I realize that we’re wasting time travelling by
foot.  However unpleasant, we should be using our metallic companions to
our benefit.  Reluctantly, I signal my friends, but this time I tell the
Sentries to stay still while we climb on.  Jonas and Apollon eye me as I
dole out commands to robots whose mere presence shoots fear into all of our
guts.  The cold steel brings back too many memories and the grief of
memories taken away.  I ignore it out of necessity, take a deep breath,
and put on a face that exudes confidence in my ability to control these walking
nightmares.

We climb up in silence, find our perches.  A glance at
the boys reveals that they are as good at pretending to be brave as I am. 
Riding attached to a Sentry’s shoulder is precarious, but infinitely more
bearable on a mental level than being grasped in its claw.  The robots
take off into the snowy landscape with us clinging desperately to their arms
and backs.  I grit my teeth, considering what a fall at this speed could
do to me.  Still, it’s better this way.  I’ll risk the fall.

We fly through open spaces and deep forest, snapping
branches and plowing through snow.  My teeth jar as we bound along and
after maybe an hour I’m not sure if I can handle any more.  My arms are
slipping, snow spray biting into my face were my mask is sliding.  I can’t
let go to adjust it or wipe my face without falling off.  I’m rethinking
the idea of traveling this way at all.  There’s nothing that would make me
happier than walking right now.

“Stop!” I command, the last of my patience spent.

The Sentries slam to a halt, the weight of our bodies
crushing into them with the suddenness of the gesture.  We’re all cursing
as we pry our leaden fingers loose and drop down to the ground.

“A little warning next time, Eden,” Apollon reasserts his
earlier request, narrowing his eyes at me.

“Sorry,” I manage, wiping my face with my coat sleeve. 
My legs feel weird—not quite right.  I start to walk slowly to warm them
up, adjusting my pack on my shoulders.  Before I can say anything else,
one of the Sentries makes a sudden turn to the side, its blank, mirrored visage
scanning the trees around us.

“What the—” Jacob whispers, his eyes widening on the forest
where it’s looking.

We all fall deadly silent, afraid to speak.  Afraid to
move.  To breathe.  There is nothing but the whirl of wind, the long
span of anticipation between heartbeats, our eyes darting through the shadow
beneath the trees.

They fall on us, exploding from the dense forest, metal
limbs flashing as they pass to open sunlight.  Three new Sentries, and
they are not from Outpost Three.  They lunge for us, determined to carry
out their job of stealing our lives.  We’ve passed beyond the
barrier.  We are criminals to be hunted and exterminated.

I’m shrieking as our Sentries intercept.  They’re
outnumbered, but our robots have weapons that the others don’t.  One of
them fires a blast from the gun attached to its arm.  An enemy Sentry is
knocked off its feet, metal exploding out of its hip joint,
disconnecting.  It flounders for a second and starts to get up.  The
others are a tangle of steel, tearing at each other.  Metal creaks and
groans and smashes.

“Run!” Jonas is yelling, dragging me by the arm.

I come to my senses enough to follow his directions. 
We take off into the snow, a pack of animals driven by panic.  Boots
crunching on hard packed snow.  Wind in our faces.  Cold
breath.  Sweat under our coats.  The world a white blur jarring by
us.  We run and run, leaving the noises of battle behind us.  Even
then, we continue to drive ourselves for a long time, until we are a panting
mess incapable of moving.  We stop to listen for the briefest
moment.  There is no sign of pursuit.  Without speaking, we start
walking, staggering slowly onward, trying to catch our breath as we go. 
None of us speak.  A grim determination has come over us.  We keep
moving and pick up the pace again once we are able to.  Every step is a
huge task, but the thought of what might be behind us keeps us going.

By late afternoon, we are completely exhausted, and we know
we must soon stop.  Surely if the Sentries were following us, they would
have caught up by now.  We cross an open space and make it to the cover of
the next stand of trees.  They form a sheltering den, blocking the breeze,
but the sun as well.  It's cold here in their shade, and deeply
quiet.  I feel like they watch us as we pass by them.  Like they are
wondering who we are to intrude on their space.  We walk amongst them for
a while, reluctant to stop, even now.  My legs are so tired from trudging
through the snow that I feel I will collapse if I keep going.  The others
must feel the same, because as we come to the edge of the next open space, we
all stop at once.  We gaze out over the distance longingly, as if freedom
from our fear lies beyond.  But none of us have the will to keep
going.  We toss down our packs.  I flop onto a rock, releasing the
agony of holding myself upright.  Jacob sits across from me and fishes in
his pack for food.  My mouth waters at the thought.  I am hungrier
than I have been in a long time.

Jacob passes out our rations—dried meat and a hunk of cheese
each.  We wolf it down without speaking.  Apollon finishes
first.  I wonder how food has been for my friends since Matt's victory. 
Better than before, I'm sure.  But how much better?  I feel suddenly
guilty at the thought of food I did not finish.  Food that went to waste.

Done with his meal, Taylor pulls the map from a pocket in
his pouch and studies it.  Jacob leans over his shoulder and they mutter
to each other, alternating between looking at the map and off into the
distance.  I don't bother.  I've seen the map, and there's not much
to go by.  There’s nothing of this unknown wilderness-- only cities and
roads.  We have a general bearing and hopefully we'll bypass Outpost Four
and eventually run into the city.  Staying away from the road was supposed
to reduce the risk of being noticed by Sentries, but we didn’t take into
account the fact that ours are part of the network, and therefore
traceable.  We should never have brought them with us.  Well, they’re
gone now, and we have a long journey ahead of us without them.  Cutting
across the outside world significantly shortens our journey, but who knows how
long it will take us on foot?  If we can even find our way there.

I gaze off into the distance, awed by the size of the
wilderness and worried that whatever we do, it will be too late.  I’m
restless, ready to start moving again.  I’m not the only one.

Taylor puts the map away and takes up his pack.

I struggle to my feet and shoulder mine as well.  While
I’m still shrugging it on, tightening the straps, Jonas speaks for the first
time.

"Where are we going?" he asks, a question to the
group in general.  How little did Matt tell them?

"South," I say, not looking at him.

His eyes dart to me for the first time, but I'm already
turning away.  Even with my back to him, I can feel the buzz of energy
coming off of him.  South.  It's exactly where he wants to go.

Apollon pulls his pack on and moves to my side, looking out
over the white stretch we’re about to traverse.  "Why?" 
His voice is casual, but I know he's not missed my cue to Jonas.

"Eden's going to shut down the Sentries," Jacob
says for me.  "Our mission is to get her to one of the white towers
safely so she can do it."

Now I feel both Jonas' and Apollon's eyes on me, but I just
look out over the snow.

"You can do that?" Apollon finally asks.

I shrug.  "If I don't, there's not gonna be any
Outpost left."

Jonas snorts.  "No Sentries."

Apollon studies me.  "You think that's a good
idea?"

I squint at him.  "You have a better one?"

He grins.  Apollon has a way of brushing things off, of
making all the heaviness feel so light.  "Well then," he says,
"we better get moving."  He tugs the straps of his pack and
leads off walking backward the first few steps.  "We have towers to
find.  Sentries to kill."  He's laughing as he turns away from
us and plummets downward through the ground.  Through the ice.

***

"Apollon!" I shriek, leaping forward.  Jonas
catches me and swings me back.  Panic and rage take hold.  I kick him
in the knee and scramble for Apollon.  I'm not doing this again.

There's nothing but a jagged hole in the snow ahead of
me.  I throw off my pack and drop to my hands and knees, crawling
closer.  Jonas grabs me by the ankle, but he doesn't drag me back like I
expect.

"I've got you."  Calm washes over me with his
voice.  We can do this.

I stretch forward, lying on my stomach to reach the
hole.  The water looks black inside.  I can see nothing. 
"Apollon!  Apollon!"  I don't know if he can hear me. 
I don't know if he's even there.  I plunge my arm into the icy water,
feeling the shock of cold move through my whole body, liquid seeping into my coat
sleeve, into my glove.  I can't seem to breathe out.  I command my
arm to feel around, but there's only biting pain and numbness.  I could be
touching Apollon and not know it.

The water churns, and I don't think it's me.  Then just
the tiniest tips of his gloved fingers appear beside my arm.  I grab for
him, my movements slow and dumbed down.  I think I have hold of him, but I
can't be sure.  When I try to move back, I’m stuck.  I push away from
the ground.  A cracking noise announces the crumbling of the ice beneath
me, where it erodes from the hole outward.

Jonas hauls me backward by the ankles, but I'm not letting
go of Apollon. At least I think I'm not.  Both arms sink into the water,
and my face and chin take a dip.  I breathe ice-water through my nose,
then cough and spurt and splutter for air.  I'm still not letting go.

A branch skitters across the snow toward me. 
"Eden!" Jacob's warning seems to follow the delivery.  The
branch whacks me across the shoulder, but I can't feel a damned thing.

I try to bring one arm up from the water.  It's not
happening.  My limbs won't obey.  All I can feel is bone-deep pain
and heaviness.  My arms are going to fall off.  They really
are.  More ice collapses inward, and then Apollon's hands emerge, climbing
up my arms, grip by grip.  The ground beneath me gives.  My belly is
soaking, my front end tilting down into the hole.  Apollon ducks deeper in
and he loses hold of one arm.  We cling to each other via the remaining
connection.  I'm going to lose him.  The ice groans beneath me. 
I grab with my free arm for the branch.

Somehow, I manage to slide it across the hole and guide
Apollon's hand to it.  His fingers curl around it, and his head emerges
from the water, gasping and sputtering.  Jonas yanks me backward.  I
hug the branch as I go, holding on for all I'm worth.  Apollon comes with
it.  He's barely hanging on to the end as we slide his shivering body
across the ice toward what must be safety.