Firstlife Page 57


I wave my arms. Another crack of thunder causes pain to explode through my skull. I cover my ears, but as the third crack sounds, I realize nothing can muffle the power of the boom. My scream joins the thousands of others still ringing out. Tears streak down my blistered cheeks.

Ten’s tears fall, and I call.

The childhood song consumes my awareness, the perfect distraction. Nine hundred trees, but only one is for me.

Something hard slams into my back, knocking me down. The ember-bugs scatter, but it hardly matters. The bird-skeletons are back, and they’ve come to finish the job! I jab my elbow backward, hear a grunt.

“Hold her.”

Through my pain and injuries, the voice is muffled, but I’m lucid enough to know birds squawk and humans speak. I’ve got a human on my back and another human—the speaker—somewhere nearby.

Two against one.

Two sets of hands latch on to my wrist in a tight clasp. A shackle. I buck up, dislodging whoever is straddling me.

The boy at my right says, “We’re trying to help you, girl.”

Maybe he’s telling the truth, maybe he isn’t. Remembering what Archer and Killian taught me, I turn my wrists to grab hold of the hands still holding me. I use both as leverage, yanking on the owners as I hoist myself up, at the same time kicking back, nailing the other person—three against one—in the chest.

I’m released as the two at my arms stumble for purchase, and I end up in a crouch. I swipe up the bug-covered branch, ignore the new stings and throw it at the person—a guy, roughly six feet tall, brown hair, unfamiliar and dirty but definitely human. He catches the branch, instinct I guess, and grunts as the insects bite him. With him, the playing field is now even, at least. We’ve both been bitten. Poisoned? The dizziness...

I straighten and turn, my hands balled into fists, my legs braced apart. I’m ready. One boy and one girl left. The boy has shoulder-length blond hair. At least, I think it’s blond. It’s matted with dirt and blood, dried leaves woven through the strands. He’s on the short side for a guy, though he’s taller than me, and he’s thin, as if he hasn’t had a decent meal in eons.

The girl is shorter and cleaner with braided blond hair and the face of an angel, despite the streaks of dirt she’s sporting. When my gaze moves to her, she ducks her head. She’s timid. Noted.

“Idiot!” The shorter boy scowls at me. “We’re trying to save your stupid life.”

Another boom of thunder nearly sends me to my knees, yet the three amigos merely grimace.

“When the rain falls, you don’t want to be out here,” he continues. “Your skin will melt off your bones.”

“If you knew me,” I reply through gritted teeth, “you’d know trust doesn’t come easily. So. How do I know you’re not as bad as the animals, leading me into a trap?”

The scent of something fetid wafts on the breeze, and I gag. This is death itself, and it’s closing in.

“Stay here or follow us,” he says. “The choice is yours.”

Always. “Who are you?”

“Out here? I’m food.” He turns and runs into the thick of the forest. The other two follow him, and I don’t have to think for long. I sprint after him, too, mimicking the zigzag pattern as they dodge chomping limbs and shimmery patches of air. The scent of death begins to fade.

Nine hundred trees, but only one is for me.

The song starts up again, but I shake my head to clear the words. Not now. Concentrate!

Finally, the shortest boy says, “My name is Brett.”

“Kayla,” the girl says.

The taller boy is next. “I’m Reed.”

“I’m Ten.”

“How’d you die?” Reed asks.

I flinch. “I don’t know. You?”

“Ever heard of HART?” Brett jumps over a rock. “We were at a meeting, planning a peace rally. There was an explosion, and we woke up here.”

I rack my brain for news reports but come up empty. Must have happened while I was locked inside Prynne.

“Where were you based?”

“LA.”

“My old stomping ground. And you truly believed you could make the realms stop fighting and start hugging?”

Kayla throws me a glare and misses the rock in front of her. She stumbles. Unlike me, she falls to her hands and knees. Brett and Reed immediately rush to her side to help her up. They are like a well-oiled machine. Clearly, they’ve had to do this before.

A squawk sounds—the bird-skeletons!—and I automatically reach for my scalpel. Zero! When will I learn?

Eight times eight times eight they fly, whatever you do, don’t stay dry.

Wait. They fly. They. The birds?

The song can’t refer to this place...can it? Lina couldn’t have known I’d end up here. Right?

Always spoke in past tense. As if the future had already happened.

Always knew I’d escape Prynne.

One of the creatures lands just in front of me, and I skid to a stop. Wings made of bone and metal stretch on and on, knocking down trees. The boys draw weapons—crudely made wooden daggers. Good, that’s good. Four of us against one of them. Excellent odds.

Kayla crawls to the base of a tree and curls into a ball, whimpering.

Okay. Three against one. Not bad odds. But even now, the skin-melting rain is closing in. Except...do we want to get wet? Eight times eight times eight they fly, whatever you do, don’t stay dry.

Don’t stay dry. But...if the rain melts us, it isn’t water; it’s some type of acid.

So the rain is out.

“Water,” I say. “We need water.” It’s worth a shot.

“No.” Brett jumps from one foot to the other, preparing to leap. “The lake is more dangerous than the creatures.”

Clawed feet remain embedded in the ground as the creature lunges forward, its neck stretching...stretching...its beak snapping at Brett, who dives out of the way at the last second.

“No one ever returns from the lake,” Reed adds.

But the song—

Is probably meaningless. Get over it. Concentrate.

I’m weaponless. I can’t help the boys fight, but I can act as the bait.

“Hey,” I shout. “Over here. Come get me.”

The creature focuses on me. At least, I think it does. The head swings in my direction, but the eye sockets are clear.

The boys understand my intent and dive on the creature as it steps toward me. Another squawk is followed by another crash of thunder, this one louder than any of the others. Warm liquid gushes from my ears. I scream as I fall—

“Ten!”

My eyelids spring open. Killian looms over me, the sunglasses gone, the gold flecks in his eyes bright. I pat my ears as the throb fades. I don’t... I can’t...

“You’re all right. I’m here, I’m here.”

Yes, yes, he is. He’s here, and I’m alive. Thank Firstking!

I scan the vehicle. We’re stationary, pulled to the side of the road. “Where’s Archer?”

“Don’t worry. He’ll return shortly...had to run an errand.”

Even though my synapses aren’t firing at full capacity yet, I detect doublespeak. “Did you destroy his Shell?”

His teeth flash in a smile that’s part delight, part malevolence. “Define destroyed.”

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