Fire & Flood (9 page)

I watch my Pandora try to make friends with the bird. He barks and pushes down on his front legs, asking her to play. In response, RX-13 sweeps a wing back and knocks him across the campsite. He squeals and runs toward me. The bird chases after him — half flying, half jumping — and snaps at his tail. An overwhelming need to protect my Pandora slams into me as I scoop Madox up and glare at the bird. Harper doesn’t seem to notice what’s happened. She’s too busy cooking the fish.

Madox lays his head against my shoulder and I keep an eye on RX-13, who looks as if she’d like nothing better than to clean him, too. When I realize Dink is eyeing Madox, I say, “Want to hold him?”

The boy looks at Caroline, and when she nods, he does, too. I walk around the fire, wondering how they got it started with all this damp wood, and place Madox in his arms. The black fox reaches up to lick the boy’s chin and the boy giggles.

Thinking I should say something to Caroline, I ask, “Is he yours?”

A strange expression shadows her face, but it quickly vanishes. She offers me a warm smile. “No, we’re just traveling together.”

I rock back on my heels and smell the scent of fish cooking. “Is your Pandora hunting, too?” I ask, trying to keep the conversation rolling.

Caroline looks at Dink, then shakes her head. “We lost our Pandoras early on. Mine died after a day, and his never hatched. Isn’t that right, Dink?”

The boy nods and continues playing with Madox. I wonder if his name is really Dink. Maybe he gave himself a new identity at the start of the race. Seems like something an eight-year-old would do. The woman on the device never mentioned if we had to cross the finish line with our Pandoras alive, so I guess we don’t. But I can’t imagine doing this without Madox.

“So all of you travel together?”

Caroline shrugs. “Until we near the end.”

I smile. “I thought about doing that. Finding others to partner with along the way.”

“And so you did,” Harper says from behind me. Her voice is teasing, and she grins when I glance at her. Then she turns her attention back on the fish. Pulling it from the flames, she lays it along a flat rock and instructs RX-13 to slice it into six pieces. I’m wondering why we need six when two more people appear from the brush.

The two boys look like copies of each other. They’re both on the short side — only a few inches above five feet — and have oversized ears and red hair. I glance at Dink for reference, then decide these boys must be about thirteen years old. One carries a spear in his hand, and the other is holding something above his head and waving it around. A collective gasp springs from the group when we realize what he has —

A bright blue flag.

“I found it,” the boy holding the flag cries.

The twin next to him jabs an elbow into his side. “
We
found it.”

“Whatever. Same difference.”

Harper crosses the campsite in a flash and holds out her hand. The boy lays it in her palm and mock bows as if she is their queen. “Where did you find it?” she asks.

“Not far from here,” he says. “We can show you.”

Harper turns and inspects the flag in the fire’s light. I can see it clearer this way, and I notice the flag isn’t really shaped like a flag at all. It’s more of a long and narrow strip of cloth. Harper grins and wraps it around her hand. Then she unwraps it and hands it back to the boys. “Show me tomorrow,” she says. “Tonight, we sleep.”

“We can wear it, right?” one of the boys asks Harper.

“Split it,” she answers.

I’m not sure what they’re talking about until I see them tearing the fabric lengthwise. They each take a piece of the blue flag and tie it around their upper arms. Then they dance around the fire. So that’s why people remove the flags? To wear them as trophies?

“Have you seen anyone else wearing the flags?” I ask.

The boys stop dancing and look at me. “Who’s this?” they ask together.

“Her name’s Tella,” Harper answers for me. “She’s a Contender. She wants to travel with us.”

Though I never actually said that, she’s right. I’d rather be with a group than go this race alone anymore. “Nice to meet you.”

“You haven’t met us,” one says.

“Not yet,” the other finishes.

“I’m Levi,” the boy with the spear announces. He elbows his twin. “And this is my brother, Dick.”

“Yeah, my name’s not Dick. It’s Ransom.”

I laugh and the boys seem pleased.

“Want to meet our Pandoras?” Ransom asks.

Though I’m not sure I can handle any more strange animals tonight, I say, “Sure, bring ’em on.”

“Yep-yah!” Levi jabs his spear into the air while Ransom walks to the edge of the bush and calls out. It isn’t long before the vines rustle and two Pandoras stroll toward us, one after the other.

The first is the largest raccoon I’ve ever seen. Its eyes are cloaked in black, and its tail is striped black and white. The rest of its fur is gray. Its whiskers twitch as it hurries toward Ransom. “This is DN-99,” Ransom says, bending down to run his hand over the raccoon’s back. “He’s hella cool.”

Behind the raccoon is a much larger animal. It’s built like a huge deer but has great, curling horns above his eyes. A ram, I realize. Levi steps forward. “And this is G-6. And he’s cooler than DN-99.”

“You wish,” Ransom says.

“Where’s your Pandora?” Levi asks me.

Almost as if the other Pandoras are responding to the question, they move toward Madox. The raccoon, DN-99, reaches up on Dink’s legs and sniffs Madox. The ram looms over all of them and
presses his muzzle closer. I’m hoping these Pandoras are nicer than RX-13. In case they aren’t, I start to stand.

“Is it still a baby?” Levi asks.

“We’ve been over that already.” Harper’s tone says not to bring it up again, and I’m thankful she’s ended the subject.

“Can I set him down?” Dink asks me. It’s the first time he’s spoken. His voice is rougher than I’d imagined.

“I’m not sure. I don’t know if —”

Before I can finish speaking, the raccoon nips Madox. The fox struggles, then falls from Dink’s arms. As soon as my Pandora hits the ground, he rushes toward me. But before he can get there, the raccoon bites him hard on the rear. Not wanting to miss out on the bullying, G-6 attempts to slam the fox with his horn. I hear Dink screaming as I reach my fox and hoist him up.

I dare these animals to get through me.

“It’s okay,” I tell Dink, who’s crying now. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Caroline pulls the boy close but stops when the ram rears up on his back legs.

“Oh crap,” Levi yells. “Hold on.”

The ram slams his horns into the ground and the earth trembles beneath us. It’s like a small earthquake ruptures the jungle. Trees shake, leaves fall in a shower, and the place where he hit splits open and groans. I try to hold on to Madox, but the ground won’t stop rocking. My Pandora tumbles from my arms and hits the dirt hard. On one side of the fire is the ram; on the other is the raccoon. Madox chooses to run toward the raccoon.

The ram races after him, and when Madox gets within a few inches of the raccoon, sharp spikes burst from his gray fur and pierce my Pandora.

“No!” I scream as Madox yelps.

Ransom and Levi bark orders for their Pandoras to stop. Immediately, they do. But now the eagle, RX-13, is swooping in
from the trees, talons stretched toward Madox. I get there first, pulling Madox up with my left arm — and when the eagle gets close enough — I swing a right hook and collide with the bird. She slams into the ground and slides for several feet.

I’m waiting for Harper to jump me. But she doesn’t. Her eyes are big with approval. “Nice hit.”

I’m having trouble catching my breath, but I still find a way to yell. “Nice hit? That’s what you have to say? Why are your Pandoras intent on killing mine off? What’s wrong with them?”

Harper shrugs. “Never seen it happen.”

I look at the twins, and they shrug, too. Ransom tugs on his enormous earlobe. “Maybe they smell something on him.”

“What could they smell?” I ask.

His forehead scrunches. “I don’t know. What did you do today?”

What did I do today? I got eaten by ants and attacked by King Kong.

I don’t answer. Instead, I watch as the eagle flies back up into the trees, and the ram and raccoon settle down. Inspecting Madox, I don’t see any permanent damage, but he still whimpers in my arms. I don’t know what’s normal with Pandoras, but I can’t travel with these people if I’m constantly worried about his safety.

As if Harper can read my mind, she walks over and offers me a piece of fish. “It’s okay; we’ll watch them from now on.” She turns to the twins. “Right?”

They mumble a response, drop down, and sit cross-legged.

I’m not sure I believe them, but I’m happy Harper addressed what happened. Trying to move past the fear I felt for my little fox — and once again deal with the knowledge that these animals have
powers
— I study the fish in my palm. For one glittering second, I think about swallowing it whole. But then I see Madox and know he probably needs it more than me right now. I hold
the fish up to his nose and laugh when he eats it straight from my hand.

When I glance up, the twins and Harper are staring at me incredulously.

“What?” I say. “You saw what just happened.”

“You’re a strange one, Tella,” Levi says.

I tilt my head, stick my tongue into my bottom lip, and roll my eyes inward. It’s the most horrendous face I can make. I know, because I once spent an hour practicing in the mirror.

Montana. Not much to do there.

Ransom points to my face. “That is terrible.”

I laugh and so does everyone else. My ugly face is pretty awesome, but not enough to warrant this kind of reaction.
It’s the jungle,
I decide.
We’re desperate for normalcy.
For the next hour, we swap stories and laugh until our sides ache. We talk about the jungle, and the flag the twins found, and how terrifying being in the box was.

We don’t discuss the reason we’re here. I guess it feels personal.

When the fire gets too small to see well, Harper speaks up. “Levi, Ransom, feed the fire and then we’ll sleep.” The twins leave and return moments later with twigs and dried leaves. They toss them into the fire and the flames kick higher, sputtering sparks as they climb. I breathe in and relish the smell of ash. It reminds me of when I was home, of when I found my device in the dying fire my dad built. It seems like an eternity ago.

“We take turns keeping watch,” Harper tells me. “For animals and insects and such. I’ll go first, then the twins, then you, and finally, Caroline and Dink take the last shift. Thanks to you, we’ll all get to sleep a bit longer tonight.” Harper brushes clear a spot on the ground and motions for me to lie there.

“Thanks,” I mumble. Harper is the obvious leader of this
group. I wonder if she likes the position or resents it. I can’t get a solid read on her. Pulling Madox close, I lie down in the dirt and watch Caroline fold and unfold her hands. I listen as Dink’s breathing becomes deep and steady. And I close my eyes and sleep.

When Ransom wakes me hours later, the first thing I do is look for Madox. He’s there, sleeping along my arm, his head lying across my wrist.

“It’s your turn,” Ransom whispers. Behind him, Levi is already settling along the ground. “Can you stay awake?”

“Yes,” I say quickly. I want these people to know I’m more than willing to do my part. Pulling myself up, I breathe in the smell of wet soil and smooth my hair. It still shocks me to feel so little of it there. Ransom lies down close to his brother, and only a few moments later, I hear the twins snoring.

I feel alone again. I know I could wake any of them if I need to, but somehow, it isn’t enough. When I was by myself in the jungle, I thought constantly of staying alive. But now that I’m among others, it’s like the weight of survival has been lifted and loneliness for my family fills its place. I run my fingers along my feather and think of Mom. Of what she’s doing now. And if she wonders where I am … or if she knows.

I look at the Contenders and notice their Pandoras sleeping close by. The ram and raccoon rest a few feet from the twins, and the eagle stands near Harper, eyes closed. I narrow my own eyes and notice Harper’s hand is resting over RX-13’s feet. A smile finds its way to my lips. I suddenly wonder if Harper exaggerated her indifference toward her Pandora. She may never admit it, but there’s often more truth found when we sleep than when we wake. Dad used to always say that.

Pulling my knees forward, I allow my mind to drift. I think of Mom and Dad and Cody. Somehow, staring into the fire, I enter
a sort of trance. I don’t know how long I stay that way, lost in my thoughts. But at some point, I snap out of it. When I look up, I notice Madox is inches from the raccoon.

“Madox,” I whisper, alarm lacing my voice. “Get away from it.”

That’s when I notice my Pandora’s face. His normally brilliant-green eyes are …
glowing
.