Refuge (4 page)

   It seems we’ve worked our way underground somehow. The tunnel we trudge along opens into a wide chamber with a painted wall that reveals why everyone seems to know Luke and me. My likeness and Luke’s in the painting is uncanny. We stand staring out into the expanse. Behind us, trucks are racing across the barren earth, kicking up plumes of dust.

   I run my hand over the S in the far left corner of the mural. “S… Sierra, you painted this?”

   “Seventeen,” Sierra says, her hand on my elbow.

   I know at once she’s talking about how many survivors there are. “Linc,” I say, “did he?”

   “Linc, Rabbit, Ruby, Stone, and now Jetta,” she says, softly. She doesn’t need to add, “The ones who were lost.”

   She does, but I don’t need to hear it to know. “The others?” I say. “Mark, James…”

   “They’re with Matthew and his. I don’t know how many of them live. We’ve killed three of them and they’ve killed four—no, five—counting Jetta.”

   “Five?” I say.

   “The machines got Stone,” Sierra says quietly, “but otherwise we did this to each other.”

   Turning to Dakota, I say, “The machines didn’t do this?”

   Dakota shakes his head. “Matthew and his.”

   I shouldn’t keep pushing, but I can’t help myself. “We’re not supposed to kill each other,” I blurt out. “We need to stick together.”

   A strangled scream escapes my throat. I turn away, pushing my way through the crowd. My fist runs down the wall as I collapse to my knees.

   For a moment, I feel like I’m breaking apart. A hand presses against my shoulder that must be Luke’s, but it’s not. It’s Sierra’s.

   “Go, get out,” she screams at the others. “Back to the watch. Back to duties. Nothing to see here.”

   The jubilant mood fades quickly. The crowd disperses, taking Luke with them. Sierra and I say nothing for a long time. I break the silence with a question: “Where are Celeste and Dasher?”

   “You don’t know how hard it was to survive,” she says, her voice the barest whisper. “They came at us from everywhere. It’s a miracle any of us survived at all.”

   I clamp a hand over my mouth and scream into it.

   “I didn’t mean… I tried… I tried,” she says, sobbing against me. “You were gone so long. I promise, I kept them alive for as long as I could.”

   I’m not really aware of my surroundings any more. I’m shaking and teetering on the edge of an abyss. Sierra’s sobs are the only thing that keep me tethered in the darkness I fall into.

   I try to get ahold of myself. Her need to cry, for comfort, is deeper than mine. “Forgive me,” I whisper as I try to soothe her.

   “If John hadn’t returned, none of us would have survived.” She stops, adds after a quiet sigh, “He knew things. He taught me how. It gave us a chance.”

   The name elicits a memory. John is someone I need to find. “John?” I say. “When did John return?”

   Sierra cries against me. Her tears are wet on my shoulder. “John is gone. Gone with Matthew or just gone, I don’t know.”

   Calming and comforting her is my focus for many long moments. I whisper to her quietly in the darkness. It’s Dakota’s return that finally quiets her. He leads her away and I go off in search of Luke.

Node: 100

Luke’s hands glide around my waist. His fingers feel warm against my bare stomach. It feels strange to be out of our jumpers, but it’s definitely an improvement. I was shivering and unable to warm myself in the damp air.

   Sierra doesn’t allow fires in Refuge for fear of smoke trails alerting the machines to our location. She seemed to be speaking from experience. I didn’t press her for more and won’t ask again about gathering wood for fires to chase the chill away.

   “The others,” I say when his lips hover over mine. Something nags at me: Luke’s words about how I wasn’t myself earlier. The implication that I wasn’t in control, that Sierra might not be in control.

   I wish I knew what it all meant. At the same time, I hope I never find out.

   He grips my waist firmly. “What’s bothering you?”

   I’m dead on my feet and I lean my head against his shoulder. In the main room, Sierra is drawing plans in the dirt on the floor. “I don’t like the idea of being controlled by the machines—by anyone.”

   “Do you think I do?” He strokes my cheek absently. “I want them out of my head as much as you, but I’ve no idea how to do it.”

   Watching Sierra direct the others and plan a surveillance of the nearby machine column is a strange dynamic. Before I left Central, I never would have ever imagined her being in charge. “How did you know I wasn’t me anymore? The word did you use earlier. Slip…”

   “Slip-glow, like a soft light behind the whites of your eyes. Pale and silvery.”

   “Almost like quicksilver,” I say.

   “Exactly.”

   Sierra’s leadership seems so natural with Chevy, Austin, Dakota and the others looking to her even with my return. It leaves me wondering where Luke and I fit in or if we fit in at all. Luke senses this too, I can tell.

   He turns my eyes to his with a gentle touch. “Cedes, I know what you’re thinking. This is where we belong. These are our people. We’re going to find out what’s going on and we’re going to fix it.”

   He pulls me away from the door and deeper into our room. Then he tries to kiss me. I stop him by putting a finger between our lips. “What about Matthew and his?” I say. “Shouldn’t they be the priority instead of the machines? We shouldn’t be warring with each other. We should be uniting.”

   He takes my hands, kisses me firmly, passionately, until I feel I can’t catch my breath and have to pull away.

   “I’ve been waiting all day to do that,” he says. “The thought that I might never again was… was…”

   “Terrifying,” I say for him. My eyes tell him I know, I know. The very scent of him is intoxicating. I feel safe with his arms around me. But otherwise, I don’t know if we’re really safe. It’s not that I share Luke’s mistrust of Sierra—it’s that I don’t think I’ll truly feel safe until the machines are gone, until we’ve stopped Matthew and his.

   I pull him down with me to the makeshift bed. Not just to have the warmth of him beside me but because I want to let him know how I really feel. My intent is to kiss him the way he kisses me. I don’t manage it. The heat of his breaths against my neck lulls me. My eyes close even though I fight to keep them open. The day isn’t done, but I am.

   He brushes my hair back behind my ear and presses a hand to the side of my face. “Cedes, I’m here. You’re here. We’re here together. It’s all that matters.”

   “Sorry,” I say.

   “Nothing to be sorry for. If we could stay just like this, just like this forever, I’d be a very happy man.” His voice is soft, soothing. I snuggle closer to him.

   “Mmm,” I say as I drift off. For a moment, I’m standing on an island, surrounded by dark waters and dark skies. I’m alone and my entire world is this tiny patch of nothingness, except I’m not alone. I’m caught in a tangle with dark things all around me and even darker things lurking below the surface of the water. There are so many—numbers beyond counting. Writhing. Pulsating. Slithering.

   From out of the void something approaches. Its bright luminescence draws my eyes like a star falling in the night sky. My thoughts reel at the sight of it. It’s something I shouldn’t know but I do.

   I scream out. My eyes fly open. Luke’s fine, tanned face and bright brown eyes with flecks of gold greet me.

   “Cedes, what’s wrong?” he says softly.

   I curl up against him. “I was lost. Lost in darkness. I was alone, but not alone. They were all around me. Then something came at me from out of the darkness.”

   He puts me at arm’s length. “A dream, nothing more. You only just drifted off. I was about to join you too.”

   I see movement in the shadows and feel a presence. I slide away from Luke, looking up. I don’t mean to pull back at the sight of Dakota. The cruelty of fate is that we react in ways we don’t mean to when we’re startled.

   Dakota’s eyes stay on mine and his jaw is tight. I feel a twinge of regret for what must have been a look of horror on my face. I want to tell him that it wasn’t him, that it was the darkness I slipped into.

   “Didn’t mean to startle you,” he says, approaching. “Your jumpers. They’re dry. I thought you should have them.”

   I get up. My eyes move from the metal that has become his right arm to the angry red scars. I don’t want them to; they move of their own accord. I reach out to him. He pulls back, putting the jumpers into my hands.

   “Thank you,” I say, trying to remember him as he was.

   “Sierra asks for you,” he says. Then he turns and leaves.

   Luke and I dress. As he pulls the zipper on the back of my jumpsuit into place, he brings me to him. “Not just yet,” he says.

   “You either,” I say. I want to check his wound, so I spin him around and push him to the wall. He extends his hands and grips the wall while I peel back the fabric. The warm pink glow below is less worrisome than the angry red hole I saw before. “Looking better by the moment. How does it feel?”

   He twists his trunk. “Better than I hoped. You?”

   I rotate my shoulder. “Good to go, if it comes down to it, but I hope it doesn’t.”

   Luke nods. “Let’s hope Sierra’s plans don’t include us.”

   I kiss him before he can step away, knowing that in this moment I shouldn’t. I kiss him for longer than I should with Sierra and the others waiting for us. I do it because for this brief space I don’t care about anything else.

   “They’ve all changed so much,” I say when I finally release him.

   “I don’t trust—” He starts to say.

   I cut him off and step away from him. “Don’t say it. We’ve changed too. None of us are what we were.”

   He presses his lips to mine. “You asked me about priorities before. We should be looking for whatever the machines want. If it’s valuable enough for them to tear each other apart, we need it if there’s to be any hope for us.”

   I listen, hoping the part of him that is human is speaking and not the part of him that is Cogent.

Node: 100

Sierra is hunched over the plans she’s drawing in the dirt when Luke and I enter. She has an uncanny ability to capture the fine details of the streets, buildings and the park itself. From what I see, I don’t doubt that she can see things almost perfectly in her mind’s eye.

   Dakota is standing on Sierra’s right. Something about the way they look at each other tells me there’s something more about them than I know.

   Sierra’s eyes light up at our approach. “Echo and Finn just returned with word about the column. I thought you’d want to know.”

   I wrap my arms around Sierra as a greeting. “Sister,” I whisper in her ear. Then I study her face to see if anything of the Sierra I knew remains. The slight smile of remembrance on the edge of her lips is all I need to see to have hope.

   I reach out to Dakota and try to explain. “It wasn’t you.”

   Dakota shrugs. “I’m used to it.”

   “How many?” Luke asks, his eyes studying the streets and paths.

   Stringy Echo looks to Sierra before she speaks. “Two quads, a few mechs, four pairs of wisps.”

   “Quads?” I ask.

   “Remnants move in groups of sixty-four,” Dakota says. “We call them quads. Sometimes, half quad if thirty-two.”

   “The machines call a group of eight an octet. Eight octets is a sixty-four,” I say. “Remnants are humans? And mechs? Wisps?”

   “Remnants are the ones who are like we were before,” Sierra says. “Before we awoke.”

   Finn leans around Echo. “Mechanicals are like trucks and floaters. They’re not like other machines. They don’t have smarts or at least they don’t seem to. Wisps are flyers with big guns.”

   “You’re right, I don’t think the mechanicals—mechs—do. There were many in the city. Vertical wings are what the machines call wisps, if we’re talking about the same thing.”

   Sierra draws one in the dirt, its twin chain guns in profile. “From the rooftop.”

   “Yes, a wing,” I say. “Wings patrol and watch the city. They’re on the sky ships too.”

   “You have to tell us more about sky ships and cities,” Sierra says, “but later. For now, we must focus on the column.” She draws an X at an intersection. “We’ll strike the column here. Just as the final four pass.”

   I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “You’re going to attack the column?”

   Sierra ignores me, points with her stick. “Ovid, Peyton”—she pauses, looks to Dakota, who nods meaningfully, before continuing—“Skye, take positions here.” To three others, she says, “Cali, Vesta, Luka, you’ll be here.”

   From the map, it looks like the machines are coming up from the south along Park. I hear her say Luka, but all I can think is that she said Luke. “Luke and I aren’t—”

   “You’re here with me,” Sierra says, drawing a circle half a block away. “We’ll watch and provide support if needed.”

   To the others, she says, “You know what you must do. Same as last time. The only change is we’re taking all four.”

   Finn and Echo’s wide-eyed stares tell me something’s unusual about this. If there are any misgivings though, they aren’t voiced by anyone.

   When Dakota’s eyes flash to Sierra’s and they exchange things unsaid, I know I’m right about there being something stronger than meets the eye between them. “It’ll be okay. Same as last time.” He claps his hands. “Go, prepare yourselves. Weapons check. Those who haven’t eaten see Austin for rations.”

   The rumbling of my stomach remind me Luke and I haven’t eaten either.

   Sierra calls out, “River, Echo, Hunter, you have trail watch. Any without assignment are to remain here.”

   I stalk after Sierra as the others prepare to leave. “You’re attacking a column? Do you think that’s the best thing to do? You and I need to talk. There’s so much you don’t understand. The machines are here to—”