Thunder (17 page)

He chewed on the side of his lip. “I heard you and . . .”

“And what? You're making me a little nervous.” Selah scraped back her chair as she moved to get away from the table.

Bodhi reached out to stop her. “No, I don't mean to scare you.”

Selah slapped his hand away and pulled out a kapo, brandishing it in front of her. “I don't know what your game is, but I'm not liking the feeling I'm getting from you at the moment.”

Bodhi raised both hands in surrender and sat back down at the table. “Fair enough. Because of your mark, the new synaptic connections are letting you tune into my impressions, and you're feeling the deceit.”

Selah's hand moved to her collarbone. She'd tried ignoring the mark. If she didn't acknowledge it then it really wasn't there and ruining her life. Now that he'd brought it up, she felt as though it were an appendage. He was right. When she concentrated, an emotion from him came through loud and clear. Deception. Now the feeling was easing.

She looked up at him. “What just happened?”

“Your strength is growing, and I was lying. Well, I wasn't exactly lying, but I wasn't telling you the truth, and you sensed it.”

“What weren't you telling me?'

“About the tsunami. I remember when it happened.”

Selah plopped back onto the chair and started laughing. “Okay, that's funny, ha-ha. So you're still not going to tell me the truth.”

“Concentrate on the impressions you're getting. I
am
telling you the truth. I remember when it happened.” Bodhi dropped his head to his hands. “I remember no one knew it was coming until it was too late. The water, mass panic, millions dead.”

Selah scowled. “For you to remember that kind of detail, you would have to be here.”

Bodhi shook his head. “I can't explain it. I can see . . . I get bits and pieces.”

Selah's eyes widened as her mouth dropped open. “I thought you were joking before!”

“That's not something to joke about.”

Selah grabbed his arm. “Tell me what you remember.”

“It makes me tired to concentrate, to probe those places where it hides.”

“Try, please.”

Bodhi sighed. “Nuclear bombs, then an earthquake that triggered . . .” He squeezed his eyes tight and gripped his forehead.

“Triggered what?”

“The Canary Islands. A dormant volcano on La Palma collapsed because of the earthquake, sending the left flank into the Atlantic Ocean. The wave was 160 feet tall and traveled more than five miles inland from Canada all the way down to Brazil.”

Selah stared. “Where are these places you're talking about?”

“Countries that were once populated on or near this continent.”

Selah looked down at her hands. “I'm sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Bodhi chuckled. “The tsunami?”

Selah shook her head. “For being so mean to you before at the river, and for smacking you. I was . . . my feelings were hurt that you'd act so nice and then desert me.”

Bodhi stared at her. “I was a jerk, as usual, trying to avoid responsibility. I didn't really want to leave you. I'm just leery of the responsibility.”

She looked into his eyes. He was being truthful.

His face edged closer. Their breaths mixed together. She inhaled him. Shiver. She lowered her head and his lips brushed across her forehead.

Selah swallowed hard. So close, he was so close she could . . . She slowly lifted her head. His lips were still in the same place her forehead had been. She held her breath.

Her throat went dry and her hands grew wet. Now if she
could just get that moisture to her mouth without sticking her fingers to her face. Selah inhaled.

His lips touched hers. Soft, gentle. She leaned into the kiss. He pressed his arm into the small of her back to bring her closer. She felt his heartbeat pound against her chest. Her head too heavy for her neck to hold up, she swayed, relaxing in his hold.

Bodhi gently touched her face with his hand. He slowly pulled away. “I'm sorry.”

Selah's lips were still where his were a second ago. She opened her eyes slowly. “Weren't we just around this same bend? Now what are you sorry for?”

“For taking advantage of you.”

She'd wanted that kiss but couldn't let him know that, not yet. She tried to think of an appropriate flippant answer.

Bodhi suddenly gripped his head tightly. “Must stop. Pain.”

Selah jumped. Her only experiences were vicariously through her girlfriends. This was the first time a boy ever ended a kiss that way.

Bodhi slumped to the side and slid to the floor. He lay on his side, arms barely able to push him to a sitting position.

Selah scrambled to his side. “Did I do something wrong? Are you all right?”

“It's not you. It's an avalanche of thoughts opening up to me. I'm beginning to feel others.”

“Well, leave them alone,” Selah said with a nervous smile.

Bodhi tried to smile but it turned to a grimace. His head jerked forward. He grabbed his forehead with both hands, then looked up with wide eyes. “Glade Rishon.”

C
leon knew the two hundred miles of scenery from their Borough to the Mountain. It was peppered with deserted towns of ghostly rotting storefronts amid rolling hills of reclaimed forest, and ruined cities with row after row of crumbling building shells separated by overgrown streets dotted with rusted vehicle skeletons infiltrated by kudzu. The countryside hosted wide fields of shoulder-high corn and other summer crops.

Cleon breathed a sigh. They'd arrived.

With Raza stretched out in the back, Cleon guided the horses off the rutted, packed dirt road of the Borough and onto the smooth, maintained road surface leading to the Mountain. He often wondered why the last mile was maintained when no one living in the Mountain ever came outside. Father said it allowed merchants and traders the time to lose the dust from their travels before they reached the Mountain. Cleon didn't understand why they cared.

He was hopeful they'd arrived before Selah and he could get Raza headed home before she showed up. But he feared he wouldn't see her again. He knew Father and Raza talked about her. They didn't let him listen, but he knew secrets about Selah that they didn't. He wasn't sure what she was going to turn into or if he'd be able to tell, but he couldn't let Raza take her back to Father, who would be furious.

“I haven't seen any evidence of Selah, have you?” Raza asked. He moved to sit beside Cleon, using a slingshot to pick off an occasional varmint.

Cleon scowled. “No. She's probably not coming, but we can't wait around for days. We don't have enough supplies. And I don't like the way you're talking about our sister, like she's the enemy or something.”

“She is the enemy! She stole from me.”

Cleon dared a smirk. “The Lander was her catch first. I've listened to you whine about her stealing him for the last few days. The woe speech is getting old.”

Raza glared at him. “It's just like you to take her side.”

“What did she do besides make you look foolish?” Cleon feared the way his brother talked. This wasn't his normal harassment of their sister.

“Father wanted us to follow her the other day for good reason. That's why we're going to take her home and let him sort it out.”

Cleon couldn't let that happen. “How do you plan on doing that? You're not going to hurt her, are you?”

“Of course not.” Raza smiled. Something in his voice told Cleon that wasn't the truth.

Cleon pulled the wagon to a stop at the fence, and they
hauled the crate to the entrance. The cargo growled, swiping through the wooden bars at the hands holding the rope cords. Heavy steel bars spaced five or six inches apart created the gate, which was nestled in a tall link fence with a top covering of razor-sharp protrusions.

Raza ran his hand across the sensor on the post to the left of the gate.

Cleon glanced around. “This is beautiful country. Why don't they come out here and live?”

Raza raised a hand for silence and ran his other hand back and forth across the sensor several times. He cursed under his breath. “No one's ever in the security booth to answer these stupid gates. I want this deal done so I can get out here for Selah.”

Cleon smiled. “I guess they don't expect many visitors.”

“Merchants and buyers of fuel are here every—”

“State your business and insert your pass,” said the monotone voice coming from the speaker mounted on the gate.

“Delivery for Ganston,” Raza said. He fished the identa-card from his pocket and pushed it into the slot below the sensor.

The gate buzzed and slid back on its track.

Raza huffed. “About time.” He led the way through the gate to the entrance about fifty feet away and ran his hand across the door sensor. The polished steel door automatically opened.

They traveled down a wide rocrete hallway. The coolness of the corridor was in direct opposition to the heat outside. It soothed Cleon at first, but soon he began to sweat from hauling the crate of growling, darting animals.

A light ribbon running down the center of the ceiling provided subdued but sufficient illumination. Raza pushed another button at the end of the long corridor, and the door slid open, sending them in a left-handed ninety-degree direction. Raza stopped inside the doorway and lowered his end of the crate to the floor. Cleon followed suit.

“I didn't realize how heavy these things could get. Next time maybe we shouldn't feed them on the way,” Cleon said, hands on his hips to stretch the muscles in his shoulders.

“They'd probably be dead by the time we got here,” Raza said, breathing heavily.

So much the better. Cleon lifted the cover to peek. He detested these things and didn't understand why they were selling them or anyone was buying them. “They're all moving. Let's get this over with.”

They picked up the crate and continued down the hall and through another access point. The contrast was noticeable. Inside this hall the walls were adorned with large colorful posters. Cleon gawked at each as they passed by. One stated rules for merchants and peddlers. Another listed contraband items not allowed in the Mountain, while another listed violations that could get you a stint in detention.

They came to an open area labeled Security, where merchants checked in. Cleon noticed directional signs to the market area. Raza passed it by.

Cleon looked in. “Don't we have to go in here?”

“No, that's for merchants. We're making a delivery,” his brother said. He ran his hand over the next wall sensor. The last door opened and they stepped inside the Mountain.

After the subdued light of the corridors, Cleon shielded
his eyes from the bright sunlight inside—or outside, as it seemed. He gazed around in wonder. He'd never been into the town. Sunshine, clouds, and even a breeze mimicked the outdoors. He could smell rain but the scent was odd. Small streams ran along the sides of the drying streets, emptying into rectangular grates.

They set down the crate, and Cleon moved toward the street intersection. People moved about just like in the Borough. Wheeled vehicles and AirStreams operated in the same paved spaces, in separate lanes. Cleon walked toward a tree that looked to be maple. An alarm sounded, shrill and annoying.

“Warning, you are entering a restricted zone. Please return to the area registered to your identa-card user or face detention,” the monotone voice said.

He looked around, bewildered. He'd never been inside before. Where was he supposed to go?

“Get back here! You don't belong on the streets,” Raza yelled.

Cleon hurried back to the corridor. “I'm sorry. We haven't seen a single person since we got here. What'd that voice mean?”

Raza held up the identa-card from his pocket. “The
recording
said because we registered with this card we can't stray from the path it designates, or they'll come after us.”

Cleon moved back to the crate. He wasn't fond of the smell or the feel of this place. “Can we get this over with?”

Raza nodded. They passed many numbered or labeled sections—some were recessed hallways and others were flush with the corridor. Cleon needed rest. He was hungry and thirsty.

They stopped at a door labeled Area Twenty-Seven. Raza
passed his hand over the sensor. Several seconds later a portly man with a receding hairline opened the door.

“Mr. Ganston, I've brought the next delivery,” Raza said with a nervous smile.

Ganston motioned them in. Leaning out the doorway, he looked up and down the corridor before closing the opening. “I expected you yesterday. I appreciate people who are prompt.”

Raza looked down. “Sorry. It won't happen again. Where would you like them?”

Cleon watched with interest. He'd never seen Raza so passive.

Ganston led them down a corridor into a kitchen. Raza put on the heavy steel mesh gloves attached to the crate. He pulled the rabbits out of the opening by their ears and deposited them in a wire enclosure beside a stainless steel counter. Cleon peered into the container. Black and white ones, brown ones, rust-colored ones, all agitated and trying to claw their way out.

Fear zipped across his chest. Shiny steel appliances and immaculate countertops went on for as far as he could see. They were putting these dangerous diseased animals where people prepared food.

“Sir, uh, Mr. Ganston, these rabbits are not meant for food. I think it's dangerous, even unsanitary, to have them in this area,” Cleon said.

Ganston glanced at him, then at Raza. “Who is this person you brought?”

Raza grabbed one rabbit with both hands, jockeying for control as it tried to bite through the steel mesh of the glove. “He's my brother, sir.”

“Well, he needs to understand this is a very private deal with you alone, and he cannot talk about this with anyone.”

Raza glared at Cleon then looked back at Ganston. “He understands that, sir.”

Cleon wondered what kind of “deal” Raza had negotiated. He assumed the evil little animals were going to someone who wanted the hides. But this wasn't a place for collecting or curing hides. The hairs on his arms felt disturbed like when a mosquito tried to land on him.

Raza wrestled a belligerent rabbit into the container. Cleon backed away. The animal might get out. He wondered what he'd do other than hop on a table to get away from it, but that seemed like something a girl would do. Raza would never let him forget it.

Ganston walked to a wall panel beside the doorway and pulled an indentation. A tall closet doorway opened, exposing several weapons. He chose one with a shape similar to the antique guns Cleon's father sometimes refurbished for people in the Borough, except it was fatter, shinier, with a barrel opening about an inch across.

“Stand back,” Ganston said. He walked toward the container as he dialed a setting on the side mount.

Raza moved to stand beside Cleon. Ganston aimed the weapon in the direction of the container and pulled the trigger. A shimmering heat wave, almost invisible to the eye, traveled from the weapon to the container. Instantly the rabbits went quiet.

Raza approached and peered into the container. “What did you do to them? Are they dead?”

Ganston stretched out the hand holding the weapon. “Yes.
They will be used immediately, so there was no reason to keep them alive. It's a pulse disruptor, a high-velocity energy beam that disrupts cellular structure with no muss, fuss, or visible damage.”

“So you
are
going to use the pelts!” Cleon chuckled. “You made me worried there for a minute. I had the crazy idea you were using these for food.”

Raza started to laugh. “Well, that was stupid. Why would anyone be so foolish?”

Ganston's ears reddened. He returned the weapon to the closet, slammed the door shut, and turned. “I'll get the payment. Please stay here and don't wander.”

Raza watched Ganston leave. He crept to the front of the closet.

Cleon followed, whispering, “What are you doing?” His fear came through loud and clear. He glanced to the doorway Ganston had gone through as he pulled on Raza's arm.

Raza jerked free. “I want one of those. Keep your mouth shut and watch for him to come back.”

Cleon hesitated. “What if their sensors know you took it?”

“I'll worry about that if it happens.” He popped open the closet, grabbed the weapon, and shoved it in his waistband under his shirt.

Cleon ran back to the counter where there was a clear view of the doorway. He couldn't distinguish footfalls from the blood pounding in his head. “You're stealing. Don't you think he'll notice?” His hands trembled. He'd never stolen. Theft was
not
one of the morals Mother had ingrained in them. And Raza didn't have a need for that kind of weapon.

“Shut up! We'll be gone by the time he figures it out,” Raza said.

Ganston returned a moment later. He looked at the brothers then held out a scanner to Raza. “Here's your bio-coin.”

Raza extended his wrist with the modified ComTex for bio-coin payments. Ganston ran the scanner over it. The payment sounded with a blip and registered on the tiny screen.

“I'm sure you're anxious to get out of the Mountain.” Ganston stared over his glasses.

“In more ways than one,” Cleon said. He glared at Raza, who acted nonchalant.

Ganston led them to the exit. “This is the last shipment I need. The deal is done. Do not come back.”

Raza turned to protest and Cleon noticed the outline of the weapon protruding from his shirt. If Ganston averted his gaze he would surely see it. Cleon snatched his brother by the sleeve and pulled him through the doorway.