Firstlife
Page 77

 Gena Showalter

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We bound forward, running as fast as we can manage. The birds swoop down, dive-bombing through the sky. And that’s not even the worst. The gorilla-spiders spring from the shadows of the forest, using their powerful arms to gallop and increase their speed. I should have known they were out there!
Fight the panic. Stay focused. Any moment now they’ll reach us...almost there... I leap to the side, dragging Kayla with me to avoid another doorway. Then I sprint for the shore, forcing Reed and Kayla to keep pace. We end up belly flopping, the top halves of our bodies in the water, our legs on the ground.
A gorilla grabs Reed’s ankle. A bird sinks sharp claws into my back while another bites Kayla’s calf, drawing Lifeblood. I kick my attacker and twist to throw water at the animals. The droplets splash over them, and like the Wicked Witch of the West, their flesh sizzles. We’re released, allowing us to scramble deeper into the water, but there’s no time to rejoice. No reason to bask in a sense of relief. In seconds, we’re sucked into a whirling vortex, traveling down, down, deeper and deeper into the water.
As I attempt to kick my way to the surface, I swallow too much water and choke. We continue to spin, round and round, the wire wrapping around Reed’s waist. Zero! My plan to keep us together might just sever him in half.
Finally, the spinning stops. I’m dizzy, but at least I can breathe again, the water sucked away from us—even from my lungs. We’re trapped in the eye of a great and terrible storm, suspended inside a beam of jellyair, I think. Fish...things...swim around us; they have the face and torso of a human female. The shape, anyway. Rather than skin, they are covered in scales. Long strands of pink hair drift around shark-like bodies.
“Come with me,” one says. As she speaks, two layers of dagger-sharp teeth are revealed, a piece of flesh trapped between the two in front.
“No, no, come with me,” another says.
They giggle like little girls and continue inviting us over.
A third speaks up. “Let’s be friends. Everyone could use a new friend.”
Yes, yes, I’d love to go with them, would love to make a new friend. Sounds like the best ideas ever. Reed and Kayla must agree with me, because they’re already paddling forward, reaching for the seven ladies dancing.
Seven ladies dancing, ignore their sweet romancing.
Loony Lina’s voice fills my head, drowning out the giggles and the chatter. I shake my head to clear my thoughts and concentrate fully on the task at hand, only then realizing the “ladies” are licking their teeth, preparing to chomp into the first person to come within reach.
Zero! I yank on the wires, pulling the kids to my side. They fight me, actually kicking at me, desperate to join their new “friends.”
In an effort to drown out the sweet romancing, I sing the song out loud. The kids fight me less and less, the fish-girls growing more and more agitated, screaming and cursing, the long strands of their hair actually standing on end and crackling with bolts of lightning, as if they’ve stuck their hands in a socket.
When Reed and Kayla at last still, the bottom of the jellyair vanishes, and we’re dropped.
Down, down we fall through a tunnel of darkness, finally hitting something sharp. We roll over dirt and rocks, the wires now wrapped around all of us, cutting both my arms to the bone. I hemorrhage, strength draining out of me at a rapid rate. I tremble, my limbs weakening as I untangle myself.
In my pocket, only one leaf remains; the others must have been sucked out with the water. Reed and Kayla, who also packed their pockets, come up empty. I tear the leaf in three and we each eat a section.
Warmth...my skin patching itself...a return of strength, but not a full recharge.
I work my way to my feet, and Reed and Kayla struggle to stand alongside me.
“Where are we?” she whispers. There’s a tinge of horror in her voice—a tinge I feel myself.
“I don’t know.”
The room is lit by bone torches—flames crackling at the end of human remains. The ground isn’t rock and dirt as I assumed but pulled teeth and...cat litter? The scent of baking soda does not prevail against unwashed bodies.
Walls tower all around us, but they aren’t made of stone, wood or drywall. No, these walls are made of cages. Too many to count, one stacked upon the other. Inside each cage is a single spirit. The Unsigned? Those captured in the Realm of Many Ends? The occupants are contorted in different positions of pain, moaning with various degrees of torment.
Laughter suddenly rings out, and it doesn’t come from the cages. Someone’s coming!
“Six seconds to hide, up, up, and you’ll survive,” I command softly. “Climb. Now.”
We scale the cages as if the ground is on fire, able to use the upper bars as handrails and use the lower bars as footstools. The caged people watch us, but they’re too pained to comment. This is going to haunt me for the rest of my—death.
When three men turn the corner, we go still. I shake, beads of sweat trickling down my temple. The men don’t bother to look anywhere but the bottom row of prisoners. Prisoners who are shrinking back, making the men laugh.
They stop at the cage on the far right, unlock the door and reach inside, dragging out a sobbing teenage boy.
“Please, no,” the boy pleads. “Please.”
“You know better.” One of the men holds the kid’s mouth open. “You don’t speak to your betters.”
Another man palms a dagger, reaches out and slices off the kid’s tongue.
The sheer brutality of the act makes me suck in a breath. As the men drag the boy away, he fights as best he can, but it does him no good. He’s too weak, and they are too strong.
I’m too weak to help. Three against one. Or three against three if Reed and Kayla help, but who knows if they will. I tell myself I’ll be captured. We’ll all be captured. We’ll be locked away, and we won’t be any good to anyone. It’s a choice. A smart choice. I can come back for him. For everyone. I’ll know the way to a safe place, and I can return armed to the max. Maybe. Hopefully.
But I remember the time Bow—Archer—fought the guards inside Prynne. I did nothing and guilt ate at me.
I might regret this, but—
I drop, my stomach floating into my throat. I pull the wire in my bracelet—Thank you, Killian—the second I land on one of the guard’s shoulders. He grunts. As we fall, I wrap the wire around his neck but as soon as we reach the ground, I roll off him, the wire remaining in place, choking him. My arms are extended overhead, and I use them to pull myself around and kick him in the face. A face that’s bright red, almost blue.
His eyes bulge as he struggles to free himself, making little gurgling sounds.
Another guard boots me in the stomach. Stars explode behind my eyes and pain shoots through me. He doesn’t help his friend—if they’re even friends—because the jerking motion of my body only tightens the wire.
Mr. Boot draws back his leg, preparing to deliver another strike. I prepare to take it like a girl. Better than a man. Reed lands on him, and the two topple in a tangle of punching fists.
The third guard releases the tongueless boy and runs. If he gets away, we’re toast. He’ll come back with others.
Sometimes you can offer someone a second chance. Sometimes you shouldn’t.
I yank my arms with all my strength. The wire cuts through the guard’s throat—completely. Suddenly I’m free of my burden and running after the last man.