Wisteria (Wisteria Series) (3 page)

“She wants you to kick her out of the class with Steven,” Yvette said with a slight French accent.

Several students laughed.

“Make all her dreams come true,” Melissa Abner added with a snort.

“Come on Karen, she’s not that desperate,” Hailey responded sympathetically.

The rest of the class, including Steven, erupted into laughter. In the two and a half years that she’d lived in Smythe, her crush on Steven was a never-ending source of ridicule. Trying to ignore them, she focused her attention on her notebook and scribbled the words,
Colista-Bren-Navida-Dor-Elson
over and over. She didn’t know what the words meant, but they gave her comfort.

* * * * *

Eighteen-year-old Bach looked down from the penthouse balcony of the once-bustling Hunter Tower in Central London. Thirty-one floors below, several of the infected Terrans, or humans, as they preferred to be called, moved through the streets. Why the Terrans created such a sickness astonished Bach. Eighty percent of the population was infected or dead. The infected were now turning on the few who managed to escape the infection.

Bach’s people, the Family, looked similar to the Terrans. The similarities were only superficial. He considered the Terrans to be even worse than the infected. But in a way, he was glad he was here.

It was expected that before any male of the Family turned nineteen, they must complete the Great Walk, a thousand day experience away from their home. Granted, Bach did not have to leave his home realm to go to the human’s realm. He could’ve gone to one that didn’t require journeying across the different plains of existence, but he’d come to Terra because he wanted to see this world die. He’d had a horrendous experience with Terrans as a child, around the time his mother died. Now, over a year after arriving into the center of the madness, Bach was tired and bored. He thought the Terrans would be gone by now, but a few of them still held on.

“How many?” Enric, his friend asked, as he joined him.

“Seventy-three. Why?”

“I meant, how many days have we been on the Great Walk. How much longer until we are declared men?”

“Six hundred and fifty-nine days gone.”

“Almost one for each spot on your arm.” He flicked Bach’s arm.

“My shana are not spots.” Bach remarked.

“Yes, I know. They are birthmarks that move,” Enric recited.

Bach had a trail of black marks that ran from his shoulder down past his elbows and disappeared somewhere on his forearms. This was something he and his brothers inherited from their mother. “They do not move,” Bach corrected him.

“They disappear and reappear, when you are in love,” Enric mocked. “I cannot believe we have been here less than a thousand days.”

“Are you starting to regret that you have done this with me?”

“I chose to come on your Great Walk with you, Bach. I could have sailed the Jade Ocean or gone into the Moon Desert, but I came to Terra as your friend. The same way my father came with yours.” Enric leaned over the banister. “I am past regretting this. So, anyone down there I can use? I need a new Thayn.”

“No, they are all infected.”

“Are you sure?” Enric peered over the edge. “Not even
one
you can renew for me?”

“Why do you need another Thayn?” Bach wasn’t happy that Enric had even one. “What is wrong with the one you have?”

“Piper,” Enric scoffed and climbed up on the railing next to Bach. “You know how she is.”

Enric’s Terran, Piper, was unstable to say the least. He renewed her shortly after they arrived; she was his first Thayn. Unfortunately, she didn’t turn out right as he’d done it without having the necessary knowledge. He wouldn’t receive the knowledge until he ascended to the Ino caste after the Great Walk.

Bach, on the other hand, was born into the Ino caste, so was taught from an early age how to turn free-minded Terrans into devoted Thayns. “She is the way you made her.”

“The way I made her? If you had renewed her when I asked, then she would be fine and I would not have needed another.”

“Enric, I do not want Terrans around me,” Bach said angrily.

“No, she would effectively be my Thayn, once you have directed her to serve me,” Enric said.

“I do not want Terrans around me,” Bach repeated.

“Enric, leave Bach alone,” Felip, Bach’s steward interjected as he came into the balcony. “Everyone in the Family knows Bach is allergic to Terrans.”

“I am sick of this, Bach. Piper has been here for months and you appear fine,” Enric retorted.

“She is your Thayn. I do not have any need for her.”

Bach rarely saw Piper. Enric had the sense to keep her away from him.

“You have Felip.” Enric pointed at the steward. “He is practically Terran.”

“He is only part Terran and completely one of us.” Bach rubbed his temples in frustration.

No one spoke about Felip’s mixed heritage. Enric found out during the long walk because Felip required a greater amount of obsidian coral for the journey. Enric initial reaction had been revulsion, but over the last four hundred days, it had improved to irritation.

The steward’s ancestry was an embarrassment to the Family and especially Bach’s Pillar, the Third Pillar. Bach understood that firsthand, as Felip and he were cousins. Bach’s father, the Sen of the Third Pillar, often referred to Felip as the “great mistake.”

Bach didn’t know how much Terran was in Felip, but he looked like the rest of the Family, except for his eyes. They weren’t pure green as was the case with the rest of the Family. His green eyes had brown speckles, something his Terran ancestor left with him.

“Only the Family can take the Great Walk. Felip would not even be here if he was not one of us,” Bach continued.

That wasn’t entirely true. Bach saw no Terran in Felip and treated him like the Family. Only when Felip completed the Great Walk would he be considered Family in every sense and by everyone. And no one would call Felip a mongrel.

“Do not concern yourself with me.” Felip laughed, unscathed by Enric’s insults. “I know who I am. I also know Enric’s tetchy because he is having difficulty controlling Piper today. He’ll be fine in a few days.”

Bach was amazed that Felip was so relaxed. He would’ve thrown Enric off the side of the building if he’d said that to him. A fall off the Hunter Tower wouldn’t hurt Enric, but it would get his annoying friend out of his face, at least for the moment.

“Piper might be the last Terran we see for months,” Felip replied.

“This is going to be a very dull walk. I do not see why they believe this will convert you into a man.” Enric groaned.

“The Seven have their reasons,” Felip stated. “But that is not why I am here. Enric, can you leave us, please?”

“Bach, you sent Felip with a message to the Sen. I would like to hear what happened,” Enric said. “And any other news from home.”

Only the Steward was allowed to journey to the home world during the Great Walk. “Enric, when Bach and I are done, I will tell you whatever you need to know.”

“You decide what I need to know?” Enric glared.

“No, I will,” Bach retorted.

Enric nodded and walked out without a word.

“How is he?” Bach watched the glass door close behind Enric.

“Your father is very well. He is getting used to his new wife,” Felip replied. “There is nothing really to say about home.”

“So, why did you ask Enric to leave?”

“Because, I know how much it infuriates him.” Felip smirked as he walked back and forth on the railing.

“You need to be careful that Enric does not break your arms.” Bach laughed.

“He might be strong, but I am smarter.” Felip slumped, but Bach caught him before he fell over the side.

He dragged Felip back to the safety of the Penthouse and set his friend down on the ground. “What is wrong?”

“The obsidian coral I used for the journey home was cracked.” Felip attempted to get up. “I forgot to check it before I left.”

“You went in through the threshold without it? You could have died.”

The Family used portals, called thresholds, to travel to their realm. Journeying through thresholds drained every one of their essences. The only way to make it through safely was by carrying a certain amount of obsidian coral. Travelling without it promised a painful and prolonged death.

“I thought I would be fine,” Felip slurred.

“You should not have provoked Enric so soon after your journey home,” Bach reprimanded. “You should save your energy.”

“I had to. It is too easy.”

“Felip…”

“I will be fine in a few days after I have regenerated.”

Bach was not comfortable with his answer. His friend looked pale, but he was right. He needed to regenerate. “Felip, this conversation is over. Please go and get some rest.” He ushered his friend into the penthouse.

CHAPTER TWO

The following day, Wisteria unlocked the large metal gate outside her home. Sunny days were dangerous, as biters moved better on days like these. She noticed the bean vine creeping over the gate again. If left alone, the violet vine would grow long and thick enough, so anyone could climb in. She saw the plant as a threat to the security of their home.

There was a constant need to uproot all the plants. Her mother seemed to love the flowers and used it to make lotion, perfume, soap, and a variety of other cosmetics. She unlocked their iron door and entered the house. Her small house on Cooper Road was a smattering of mismatched furniture they’d scavenged over the years.

“Good evening, Wisteria,” her mother greeted as she walked up behind her.

Wisteria was surprised her mother was home. When her mother wasn’t out patrolling, tracking, or charting the movement of the biters, she was at town hall giving Major Coles hell. She rarely got in before sunset.

“Good afternoon, Mum,” she greeted her mother.

“Come here.” Her mother strolled into the living room and she seemed unnaturally pleasant.

Suspiciously, Wisteria entered the living room and sat down in their overstuffed armchair.

A tall, blond haired girl with shiny blue eyes walked in and smiled at her. It was Amanda Weiss, a sixteen-year-old refugee who cleared quarantine last week.

“Hi, Amanda,” Wisteria greeted her.

“I promised Tammy Hubbard you’d take Amanda to the ration center and get her signed up.” Wisteria’s mother rose and walked out with no please, or even a thank you.

“I’m glad you made it out of quarantine.” Wisteria tried not to sound irritated.

All new arrivals went through a week of isolation to see if they were infected.

“Three didn’t make it out. They were infected,” Amanda muttered.

“I’m sorry.”

Wisteria knew the only treatment for the infected was a bullet to the head.

“Come on, I’ll take you.” Wisteria motioned to Amanda as she made her way out. “Well, what do you think?” Wisteria asked as the girls headed to the town square. “Is our wonderful island what you expected?”

“It’s hard getting used to sleeping without a weapon in my hands,” Amanda replied. “I’m dying for a hot bath and my cell phone.”

The internet and mobile phones were distant memories. The only news the community got came from the trading ships and it always conflicted. They were mainly rumors and stories about countries that were disease free, but that always depended on the person. Sometimes, it was Cuba or Mexico, while other times it was Tibet or Australia. Most people believed that Luton Airport was safe, but no one knew how bad things might really be there.

“Here we are. Our local supermarket.” Wisteria pointed to a detached house where a few people were waiting in line. “This is where we get our rations.”

“So, everyone gets food here.” Amanda sounded impressed. “Are we getting anything good?”

“I don’t know, but we get one large allocation a month and a smaller one, once a week. Normally, we get dried meat and tinned or canned vegetables, but it’s always a bit of a surprise.” Wisteria joined the end of the line.

“Where does the food come from?”

“Farmers in the town and some merchants, but most people have private gardens, too.”

According to the town hall, the sea merchants provided the island with weapons, food, and raw materials, but according to her mother, the merchants were pirates who probably stole from other communities. Coles hated dealing with them, but the merchants were the only ones who could provide the materials the scientists needed for their research and pharmaceutical plant. The only people with whom the island could trade the medicine they produced from the plant were the merchants.

“I doubt there’s going to be hot chocolate in there?” Amanda smirked.

Wisteria shook her head as they walked inside.

“Can I get clothes at least?” Amanda was wearing a pair of stained jeans, an old woman’s dress and men’s boots.

“I don’t think what they’ll have is any better than what you’re wearing.”