Sanchez grasped the small chunk of metal that hung by an old strip of leather around his neck. It had been given to him by his predecessor, Rexer, the one who had recognized and nurtured Sanchez’s spiritual gifts. It was very ancient, a piece of the Source. Now, Sanchez desperately hoped it would give him strength, help him to understand the wild things he had seen in his vision.
Thirsty, hunger clawing at his belly, his mind riddled with fears, and pursued by the image of the bright yellow ball, Sanchez hurried on after his people.
CHAPTER 5
“J’OU ARE NO LONGER THEIR PROBLEM.”
Echo was too frightened to protest. Her throat felt squeezed shut, unable to let out a cry even if she wanted to. Which she didn’t. She didn’t want to resist, she didn’t want to stop stumbling along, blindfolded, gagged by a dirty cloth, gripped by whoever it was with the strong fingers.
Fear could do that, she’d heard. It could make you just sit there and take it.
But for how long?
A tiny mew from the baby reached Echo’s ears. If the baby is hurt… The thought seared through her mind and an amazing protectiveness exploded into a fierce anger. She stumbled and the big toe on her right foot jammed into the floor. The minor accident added fuel to the fire of Echo’s anger and with a violent motion she tried to jerk away from her captor.
But it was no use. The grip hardened and the captor stepped up their pace.
Suddenly, her captor stopped cold. Echo bumped into him — or her — and heard the faint creak of what she thought must be a door opening. She knew intuitively that someone was there, waiting for them.
Her captor pushed her ahead of him — her? — and once again Echo heard the faint creak.
The door had closed behind her
A whisper reached her ears now.
“Don’t shout. No one will hear j’ou, anyway. But don’t shout.”
Hands from behind untied the blindfold and released the gag. Echo blinked and worked her jaw. She felt suddenly dizzy and must have swayed because another set of hands were now supporting her …
And then, she could see.
Westie. Mattock. Lyric.
“Oh. Oh. J’ou …” Echo’s mind raced. “What’s going on?” she whispered harshly, reaching for her baby. Lyric handed the tiny, murmuring bundle to Echo without hesitation. Oddly, it was only now that Echo noticed Lyric, too, was clothed in the long, hooded garment Mattock wore.
“Why are j’ou dressed like that?” she asked.
It was Westie who answered. Her face was grimmer than Echo had ever seen it. “We’re getting j’ou out of here,” she said. “They were going to let j’ou die. J’ou and the baby.”
“What?” Echo’s mind refused to absorb this information.
“The elders’ decision was unanimous,” Mattock said with a bright flush of shame. “It’s true.
Echo. The colony voted to starve j’ou and the baby to death, rather than feed j’ou until the Marauders could take j’ou with them.”
Oh, Echo thought. Oh.
“My life wasn’t worth sparing,” she said then, a crazy giggle escaping her lips. “Not even until I could be cast out.”
Lyric sobbed and clapped a hand to her mouth.
Echo turned to Westie and fought back a sneer of contempt. Anger bubbled up in her brain.
“Lyric and Mattock have always been my friends,” she said. “But j’ou! Why are j’ou helping me? J’ou’ve always seemed so —”
Westie grimaced. “Harsh? Yes. No one would ever expect Westie, the stern one, of being a traitor to the cause of genetic purity.”
Echo looked deep into Westie’s eyes. “Tell me,” she said. “All of it.”
Westie opened her mouth, closed it again.
“Go ahead,” Echo said. “I need to know.”
“I was a child at the time.” Westie sighed before going on. “J’our mother was — my friend.
Neither of us really understood what was happening. But — there was a scare. A man named Tap developed symptoms of a terrible, debilitating disease. I suppose he had been born with it. The disease must have lain dormant for years….” Westie rubbed at her eyes before going on. “The result was that other people were tested for — impurities. Suddenly, everyone was afraid. Even we children were afraid though we didn’t really know why. The fear grew. The yield was poor that year and that made people panic. And then …”
“Then?” Echo urged.
Westie’s eyes were dull with an emotion Echo had never seen her display. Grief.
“And then, j’our grandmother — my friend’s mother — was — eliminated. She wasn’t the only one. But — she had always been so kind to me. Eventually, the yield increased and the panic died down. By then, j’our mother and I had learned the truth about the — hunt. We didn’t know what good it would do but we set out to find and destroy j’our grandmother’s file.
We succeeded.”
“And no one ever knew?” Echo challenged, her heart pumping madly.
Westie laughed bitterly. “I don’t know. Afterward, everyone was embarrassed by what had happened. No one even talked about it until j’our baby came. They thought silence would erase the sins of the past. But it never does. Echo.”
Echo nodded. “And the baby came when the Marauders cheated us out of an already poor yield….”
“I argued against them developing this baby,” Westie said fiercely. “I said it wasn’t fair to bring another person into the world at a time when the yield was so poor. But that was not the real reason for my not wanting j’ou to have this baby. My Echo. I knew there was a strong chance the baby would be — not perfect. I did not want to see this suffering come to pass.”
“And j’ou couldn’t tell the truth to anyone,” Echo said woodenly. “Not even to me.”
Westie nodded.
“Why are j’ou helping me now?” Echo knew her voice was cold but didn’t she still have a right to be angry? To be suspicious?
“Because I have to,” the older woman answered simply. “Because I have to atone.”
“But what if the others find out j’ou helped me to escape?” Echo asked, all the time knowing the grim answer to her own question.
Westie looked at her steadily. For the first time Echo noticed the tiny lines around the woman’s eyes and at the corners of her lips. Life was harsh in the colony, in spite of its relative safety.
Finally, Westie spoke. “Then they find out,” she said.
Echo fought back tears. Westie had no time for tears, none of them did. Echo turned to her friends. “And j’ou?” she asked, suddenly feeling terribly sick. How could she leave them behind?
Mattock managed a halfhearted smile. “I’m going with j’ou. Lyric, too.”
“Aren’t j’ou afraid?” Echo asked, sudden violent visions of life in Marauder territory slamming through her brain.
Lyric nodded. Even in the gloom Echo could see that her friend’s face was terror-stricken.
“Yes,” Lyric said, her voice breaking, her eyes holding Echo’s. “But I can’t stay here. Not anymore. J’ou know that.”
“Here,” Westie said, bending to retrieve a bundle at her feet. “Put this on,” She held Echo’s baby while Echo pulled her own hooded garment over her head. It felt heavy on her shoulders and smelled faintly of sweat. It would be a memory of home. Of what had been home.
“Go as carefully as j’ou can,” Westie directed. “There are dangers —” Her voice broke.
“Will they follow us?” Lyric whispered fearfully.
Echo saw a quick play of emotions scatter across the older woman’s face. Concern.
Determination. And finally, disgust.
“They won’t know j’ou’re gone for a while,” she said, with a dismissive wave of her hand.
“But it wouldn’t matter if they did. No one will go after j’ou. J’ou are no longer the colony’s responsibility. J’ou are no longer their problem.”
“We need to go,” Mattock said, touching Echo?
??s arm, bringing her out of a growing sense of unreality.
Echo nodded and with Mattock’s help hoisted a pack onto her back. The baby she secured to her chest with a long scarf Lyric provided.
Westie nodded brusquely and without another word, the three young companions turned away.
When they reached the door that opened to the outside world. Echo looked over her shoulder. She needed to catch one last glimpse of the woman who had been so much to her, in spite of her stern, unforgiving personality.
But Westie had already gone.
CHAPTER 6
“WHAT CHOICE DO WE HAVE?”
Echo squinted into the unwavering gloom. They’d been on the move for some time now.
Unbelievably, they’d encountered no pillars of flaming gas. No strange and violent beasts.
Still, the threat of danger hung around Echo’s shoulders like a mantle. And along with the fear — the smallest bit of excitement. Of freedom. The surface was ugly and dangerous. But it was open.
“Mattock?” Lyric’s voice was horribly raspy. “May I have some water now?”
As the strongest of the three. Mattock had volunteered to carry their food and water. He had also appointed himself their boss. Boys, Echo thought, they are so silly.
“Can’t j’ou hold on?” he said to Lyric. “We have to conserve —”
“Oh, let her have a sip,” Echo said irritably. “One sip won’t hurt anything.”
Mattock scowled but he unstrapped a small, very old canteen from his belt and handed it to Lyric. “Careful,” he warned unnecessarily. “Don’t j’ou let any spill.”
“I’ll have a sip, too,” Echo said, watching Lyric lick her lips greedily. “And don’t j’ou bother to grumble. Mattock.”
Mattock’s grim face collapsed into a smile. “Who am I kidding?” he said. “I’ve been dying for a drink since we left —”
Echo saw a sudden look of horror on Mattock’s face and turned to see what had caused it. In the distance was what looked almost like a solid wall of swirling eddies. Colors — gray, pewter, black — churned, combined, separated.
“What is it?” Lyric screamed as the wall grew closer.
Just then, a streak of light flashed, followed closely by a ferocious boom! It was unlike anything the Alphas had ever heard.
“It’s a dream storm,” Echo cried, instinctively holding her baby more tightly.
Jobs had told her about the psychotropic storm. The dream storm. It had led Jobs and his friend underground, where they’d encountered the Marauders. Where Mo’Steel, caught in the grips of hallucination, had managed somehow to kill the brutal Hawk.
Echo was scared. Would the storm affect her baby? Would the poor helpless child go insane? At least Echo would know, through the madness, that it would all pass. But the baby would know nothing….
“What do we do?” Lyric shouted, hands pressed to her ears.
Mattock whirled around — as if looking for a solution in the bleak landscape — and then turned back to the girls. “I don’t know!” he cried.
The storm was fast upon them. The wind — Echo had never experienced a gentle breeze, let alone a violent gale. The sound alone was excruciating. It seemed as if the entire planet were moaning in agony.
Through the roar of the storm Echo could hear choking, gagging. Her own and Mattock’s and Lyric’s. She brought her face right down against her baby’s and listened — and heard nothing. No coughing in her ears. No breath on her cheek.
Before Echo could react, rough hands snatched the baby from Echo’s arms. Echo squinted through the thick, scurrying dust. A Marauder! In a second, the infant disappeared into the voluminous folds of the creature’s clothing.
“No!” Echo shouted, reaching madly toward the man.
“Come!” he said, stepping away and beckoning Echo and the others to follow.
Lyric grabbed Echo’s arm and put her mouth close to her ear. “It’s okay!” she cried. “He was the one who came to the Alphas.”
“An enemy…” Echo mumbled.
“No, no…”
Echo’s brain fought to get the message right. Not an enemy. How could Lyric be sure?
The hulking bundle of rags corralled the three ahead of him toward the cavelike base of a bizarre, towering structure made of concrete and rebar.
“In here,” he directed, and Echo followed, stumbling over her garments, blinded by swirling grit, buffeted by wind.
And then — relief. Now, out of the direct intensity of the storm. Echo began to feel — odd.
She slumped against one ragged wall of the shelter and watched as suddenly the other walls began to waver and buckle and bend.
Vaguely, Echo was aware of Mattock — it was Mattock, wasn’t it? — lurching forward.
And a girl screaming. And Mattock falling. But no, being knocked down by the other man —
And then a woman — Echo’s mother rose from where Mattock had fallen. After all this time. Echo thought, j’ou’ve come back to me. But when the woman took a step toward her, Echo saw that her face was all bone and mold. Through nonexistent lips the woman said, “My child, my child,” but Echo hid her face in her hands and screamed, “Go away! J’ou frighten me!” And then Echo felt cold, bony fingers on her own, prying them from her face. And she fell in a heap.
Echo came awake with a start. She raised her head and listened. The quiet was palpable. For a moment it seemed as loud and as present as had the noise of the storm.
Suddenly, an image of a grotesque woman — her own mother — roared into Echo’s memory and she jumped to her feet, madly searching the room.
But there was no grotesque woman. Only Mattock. And Lyric. And the Marauder who had saved their lives. The man who was now cradling her baby in the crook of his arm.
“Here.” The man stood and brought the baby to Echo. “She is okay. My name is Cocker.”
Echo tried to speak but her throat felt raw. Instead, she nodded her thanks and gladly accepted the Infant, who cooed and seemed, miraculously, none the worse for wear.
Which is more than could be said for the rest of us, Echo thought, noting Mattock’s swollen face.
“J’ou hit me,” he said to the Marauder Gingerly, Mattock felt his jaw, where Echo could see a colorful bruise blooming. His voice was low, matter-of-fact.
Cocker nodded. “Had to happen,” he said, just as reasonably. “Storm made j’ou crazy. J’ou tried to hurt this one.” Cocker pointed at Lyric, who wiped at her red eyes.
“I don’t believe it!” Mattock protested. “Lyric —”
Lyric gave him a trembling smile. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “I know it wasn’t really j’ou. It was the storm.”
Finally, Echo said, “Is it safe to go outside now?”
Cocker shrugged. “Never safe. But yeah, the storm is over. Where j’ou be going? Those Alphas, they wanted no part in me taking them to the Source. What j’ou doing out here?”
Echo shared a quick but meaningful look with her friends. There was no point in getting into details now. She’d tell Cocker the simple truth.
“The Alphas want no part of us, either,” she said, looking steadily at the big man. “We are going to the Marauders.”
Cocker eyed her closely for a moment, as if trying to determine something about the three friends. Echo felt her heart race. Would they be rejected again … ?
“Well, Marauders be at the Source,” Cocker said finally. “I will guide j’ou there,” Cocker said. “If j’ou want this.”
“What choice do we have?” Mattock said, and Echo could plainly hear the bravado in his voice. Mattock was scared, he had to be, but he was fast becoming a man.
Cocker’s expression remained bland. “J’ou have the choice to die,” he said.
Mattock looked to Echo and Lyric in turn before answering.
“We’ll go with j’ou,” Mattock said. He seemed then to be struggling with himself. Finally, he added, “Thanks to j’ou.”
Cocker shrugged. “It’s tim
e to move.”
The band shared a brief meal and climbed back out onto the endlessly bland surface of the planet.
Cocker and Mattock walked slightly ahead, one on either side of Echo, Lyric, and the baby, a sort of guard.
“We still could die out here,” Lyric said, her voice trembling.
Echo kept her eyes straight ahead, pinned on Cocker’s back. “I know,” she said.
“Do j’ou trust him? Cocker?”
“Yes. I think I do. Why?”
Lyric briefly touched Echo’s arm. “I have a confession to make. Something to tell j’ou.”
“Will I be mad?” Echo asked, almost jokingly.
“I would be if I were j’ou. But I’m not j’ou, am I? If I were j’ou I never would have done to a friend what…”
Echo shifted her baby and sighed. “Lyric, please …”
“I betrayed j’ou to the elders,” Lyric blurted. “They caught me listening to their discussion, and they dragged me into the center of their circle. And they asked if I agreed with their decision to make j’ou be tested. And I said yes. Echo, I’m sorry! I was afraid —”
“For me or for j’ourself?” Echo demanded. “No, don’t answer that. It’s clear.”
Lyric sobbed. “It was a test!” she cried. “They were testing me and I — I passed. In their eyes. But in my own eyes, Echo — and j’ours — I failed. I’m sorry,”
Echo tried to calm her mind. If she’d been pinned down like Lyric had, would she really have had the courage to stand up for her friend? Maybe. But maybe not. Who could judge a person when the world as they knew it was crumbling?
“It’s okay,” Echo said finally “I forgive j’ou. Really.”
CHAPTER 7
“YOUR GUESS IS AS GOOD AS MINE.”
Mo’Steel winced as he came down on his bad leg. Okay, ouch, he thought, and we’d better get to this place soon. I am in serious need of a rest. Like for maybe about a year.
As if reading his thoughts, Sanchez hurried to Mo’Steel’s side.
“Look,” he said, pointing ahead and to the right.
Mo’Steel squinted but saw nothing. Not even a glimmer in the dull gray light.