Chapter Sixteen — Deviance So Sweet on My Tongue

Opel:

“What are we doing?” Noah whines from beside me.

“Packing, obviously.”

“Is it something I said?”

“Yes. I mean no, not really.”

“Why are you so mad?”

“Noah, it’s not you, don’t flatter yourself. Aecker is not safe.” I start mumbling to myself, “I can’t believe I even considered staying here. What was I thinking? I am so stupid and selfish,” I berate myself, fumbling with the bag’s zipper.

It won’t close. It’s stuck and I rip too hard, the pull-tab comes loose from the crown. “Great,” I huff. “I broke the damn zipper-pully-thingy.” I stare at the small piece of plastic in my hand.

“Opel. Aecker asked us to stay and wait.”

Throwing the bag over my shoulders, I tie my hair into a low bun and secure it with an old shoelace I found in the bottom drawer where the doctor keeps all her undergarments. I snag a pair or two of the odd-looking, floral-printed briefs. I’ve also taken a pair of socks, a sheet, some rope, and a can opener from the kitchen. All the things I’ve gathered are old school, but they are not standard issue, so for that, I love them.

“Would you just stop for a second? Let me think, Opel. What if Aecker comes back and we are not here?”

“Noah, he is not coming back unless we bring him back.”

“Why would you say that?”

“I know ST, so if I were you, I’d stick with me or get killed.”

“Excuse me, it is because of you I will be killed.”

“Stay, I don’t care. If you love your cousin you’ll want to save him. It’s better if we work together.”

He snorts. “Love… really? It’s weak. I mean, look what he got himself into. Look what your love did to the leaders of Cupola. Dyllian and Aecker have given up on Cupola. The entire colony has been exposed.”

“You don’t think you have anything to do with that? Who sent you to get us, Noah?”

“No one did!”

I snicker. “You thought if you brought me in and exposed your cousins you could take Cupola, didn’t you?” I narrow my eyes at his silence. “You called ST against me, didn’t you? You set us all up!”

“I don’t have to explain it to you.”

“No, you don’t.” I turn. “Besides, if I can’t get this damn thing off my arm, they will find a way to track me despite the doctor’s efforts. I have something of theirs and they know it. They are hoping I lead them to it. More precious than me right now, is Aecker. They will use him to get to me. So you either stay or you come, I prefer the latter. I won’t forget what you did to me in Cupola. I lied when I said I forgave you, it’s not in my nature. I tried.”

“You are just saying that to get rid of me.”

“Maybe I am, maybe I prefer solitude over spending time with fickle, fence-sitting traitors like you.”

“Now who is judging?” Noah fires back, arms crossed over his wide chest.

Coming real close to him, I look up and stare into his eyes. “I have a right to judge. You, sir, are an ass! I judge by your actions and, so far, nothing you have done is for anyone other than for Noah.” I wave my finger in his face for effect.

“Just give me a second so I can pack. Unlike you, Tracker, I need water and food to survive the day. I do not draw power from the sun.”

“What?” I turn around. “That is what you think of me, that I am a freak?”

“I was teasing you, Opel. Making a reference to Superman.” He clicks his tongue. “It is a compliment, really.”

“Who?”

“Superman.”

“Is he one of first born Trackers who powers up with solar aid?”

“Never mind, he’s a hero from a kids’ story.”

“You’re strange.” I snort.

“Says the girl who has died and come back to life three times.”

“What are you on about, Noah? I’ve never even been close to expiring.”

His face shows some kind of revelation. Eyes hollow and hidden, he pulls back completely. And I can almost feel the wall he suddenly puts up between us.

“Noah?”

“I thought you knew.”

“Noah, whatever it is, spit it out!”

“It’s not for me to say anything.”

“Then you shouldn’t have. If you know something, you have to tell me.”

“You tell me what it is you are hiding first. What dark secret has you wound up so tight?”

“It’s better you don’t know.”

“I can say the same to you. Maybe I should hold that over you, too. Level the playing field so we become codependent,” he taunts.

At first, I feel it on my ears, then the flames spread to my face, quick like a flash-fire it nips at me with vengeance. Rage engulfs me in its angry claws. Grabbing the closest thing from the shelf beside me, I throw it at Noah, aiming for the sweet spot right between his eyes. But my throw comes short as the object I launch doesn’t hold much weight. In fact, it makes a sharp arc and falls before his feet.

Noah bends down, retrieving the piece of shiny shell. “This poor snow dome. It never did anything to anyone, not even its dying body can rest in peace.”

It suddenly dawns on me what the object he’s holding is, rubbing it like some wounded creature.

“Give it to me.” I move to snatch it out of his hands. I recognize the glossy exterior and the white markings engraved inside the fabric of the plastic. It’s part of a pattern or symbol. My eyes shoot to his in the revelation. I die and come back to life.

“No.” He jerks from my grip, clutching the broken piece firmly between his hands.

“That secret you so dearly want to know? Well, that is part of it, so give it to me before I pry it from your cold, stiff fingers.”

He hands it to me, moving closer, as if the answer is inscribed all over its polished surface.

“Where is the rest of it?” I spin around and find three other pieces just like it on the shelf. The base is silver and blue with faded markings on it. Some kind of fake scene is placed within―houses with snow-capped mountains resting on top of the base.

“Here, let me show you.” Noah tries to put the pieces back together. “It had liquid inside once, and tiny pieces of white flaky things. What would happen is that when one shook it, it gave the illusion of snowfall on a small town.”

I swallow while looking at the symbols. Aecker never got the chance to teach me how to read.

“Is this all there is?” I ask, taking the thing from him.

I place the pieces on the table covered with the dusty imprints of monitors and keypad, like some kind of processing center.

“I think so.” He nears once again. “What is it?”

“A map.”

When turning it upside down, I notice some kind of mechanism, like a keyhole. “We need to find the key, or find some other way to open this, there is a map inside.”

“Like, to find treasure?”

“My heart.”

Noah gives me a silly look. My hand goes to my chest where instead of feeling a heart pulsating, it vibrates instead. “That’s why they want the map to the mechanics of my heart.”

“That’s just stupid.”

“It’s not what you think, it’s the reason I can’t die.”

“Cyborg!” Noah gasps.

“We need to bury it, they can’t find this.” I turn and place the pieces into Noah’s hands. “Take it and bury it somewhere along our route. I don’t want to know when or where you have hidden it. I don’t want to know a single thing until we find Aecker, you got me?”

He nods.

***

Dusk is settling on a cool spring night. Behind the dark silhouettes of trees, the tip of the sun sinks below the horizon. Its bright rays are embracing fingers of glimmering gold as they brush over black fluffy clouds, cradling the emerging night. As the darkness spreads its wings over the earth, I can’t help but get stuck on the horrid hole growing inside me.

Erik. I look down at the ring around my finger. Their new president is ill, dying in fact. They’ve used me to keep him alive all this time, now all they want is the map to my heart. But what’s stopping them from cutting it out instead?

I feel bad for leaving the cottage abandoned. It is, after all, our doing that it was wrecked in the first place. Feeling bad is not something I want to get used to, I stink at it. I could come up with a better word than bad, surely, but it’s the best way to basket all the feelings.

“Ryder, go get it!” Noah throws a stick into the woods for the 32nd time, apparently expecting different results.

“I don’t get the game of fetch, and it’s becoming a little insane, don’t you think?” I unpack the bag, unfold the sheet, and stare at the gun Aecker left under my pillow. One bullet. It brings on the memory of our escape, of me getting shot. Automatically, my hand goes to the sensitive area on my left shoulder. I might heal quickly, but the scar is there. I can feel the smooth surface of damaged skin beneath the thin material of my shirt. There is one bullet stuck inside the chamber, and I know who it is meant for—my ‘fiancé’.

“Nah, it keeps her occupied and alert,” Noah says, a light smile to his tone. “She needs the exercise to keep fit and healthy.”

“She’s a hunting dog, right? So take her hunting.”

“Fine. I can see you need some time to digest.”

“Yeah, you go, and let me do just that,” I say, disassembling the magazine case and rear slider of the gun.

I blow into the ejection port and extractor in case any dirt might have caked up in there. Setting the pieces down on the sheet next to the raging fire, I have high hopes the culprit of the misfire is purely because of the acid rain, which perhaps caused some abrasions on the moving parts. Finding a stick nearby, I slide it into the barrel, trying to determine how far in the remaining bullet is lodged. For some reason this exercise calms me, and I allow the abandoned thoughts to filter through.

I need to know who I was before I became a Tracker, and how in the hell I knew what that snow globe held? I wish Aecker were here to solve the puzzle, he’s good with those sort of things. Then the anger at him leaving me behind tugs at my insecurities―ones I identify with easily because that is what I do; analyze, identify, and then find out the means to use such things to my advantage.

In this case, I own no feelings I can identify with, neither are these bubbling feelings working in my favor. I’m distracted, confused, bothered and frustrated. Before the accident, things were simple. Feelings were less complicated. I guess the language of the heart is something no one will ever decipher. Now that too has been tainted by the idea of mine being nothing but a machine.

“Ugh!” I scream out.

I’d better get my act together, get my head in the game. Become the Tracker I once was in order to put the pieces together. But, at what cost?

When the rustling in the bushes becomes louder and edges closer, I shout out Noah’s name. No answer. It takes me a few seconds to reassemble the gun. But thankfully, my hands know their way around a gun very intimately. I draw the firearm, aiming it at the rustling bush. I move closer. The glow from the fire illuminates a section of the forest just beyond the brush. A tan colored tail wags between twigs.

“What did you find, girl?” I say, creeping closer.

As I draw back the leaves, the lethal charcoal eyes of a Sniffer Hound look right at me. He growls, once I’ve noticed the hole it is digging. Either it found something, or it is about to lay spawn. Either way, it’s defensive. My gun goes up again, aiming right for its face. I don’t want to shoot this animal but I know what it brings with it―a violent death. Its snout pulls back, revealing silver teeth.

A Sniffer has venomous drool that upon contact releases a lethal dose, killing animals and humans alike, even the Tracker kind. It pools up with white foam on the sides of its mouth. The Sniffer barks at me once; sharp and grotesque, it’s the howl of a monster. Piercing echoes follow, then another bark from a different dog ripples through the air, shrill, fast, and heading my way. There is more than one. Now I have no choice but to run. It’s said one can’t outrun these creatures. Sniffers are a Tracker’s beast. I’ve seen one rip a grown man to pieces, tear out throats and eat the remains. It leaves no evidence of a Sniffer kill. These are a Tracker’s assassins, and once a Sniffer has been deployed it means that the target is useless to ST. The prey becomes an immediate kill.

My body is frozen in terror. I am in danger of letting the fear grab hold and cripple my abilities. I need to make a decision and fast―run or fight. Usually, decisions come to me so easily that I hardly have to give anything much thought. Now everything is something to consider. And taking life makes me ill to my stomach… I am broken.

***

When the Sniffer makes its next move, so do I. I punch it in the face with the metal gun resting between my palms and run. I run because my life depends on it, and that has to be the scariest thought I have ever had to contend with. It is the first time in my life I have ever made the decision to run, and it burrows itself deep. My heels dig into the solid ground and I bolt.

Feeling the moist, warm breath of the Sniffer right behind me, the splatter of its acid drool on my back singes my clothing and touches my skin with a hiss. I will have to get behind the dog. I run for a tree and propel myself up its thick stump. Bending my knees, I throw myself backward through the air, landing a kick to its hind legs. As the Sniffer’s two back legs give out, I touch ground and run the other way. I have to find Noah.

It’s a decision one might regret, finding yourself between two Sniffers. All my fears are met when the other Sniffer comes at me from the side. Its claws slice right through the flesh on my wounded shoulder. Yelping in pain, I manage to swing my other arm out, landing a crushing blow to its ribs with the butt of the gun. But instead of backing off, it pins me to the ground, and in the scuffle I drop the gun. Monstrous paws rest on my chest while it growls in my face. I try to reach for the gun, but the Sniffer is too heavy, preventing me from moving forward. My fingers merely claw at the ground. The Sniffer growls, its drool singeing some of my hair. I realize then that it’s not here to kill me. It would have taken my head off already if it really wanted to.

That realization comes too late. Noah emerges from the shadows, his blade slicing through the air with a sharp whistling sound. The dog turns, ducks, and makes a run straight for him. The blade pegs into the tree beside me. Rolling to my knees, I pull out the blade and throw it back to Noah.

“Catch!”

He does, and swipes it outward in a huge arc, connecting with the creature’s front paw, dismembering it instantly.

Ryder is running right at me, coming to my aid as I clamber to my feet. I hear the growl of the first Sniffer behind me. As it lunges, Ryder leaps, colliding with the hell hound. They roll, sand and forest debris kicking up all around us in a blinding wave as paws and claws meet. I run for Noah because he is the target. I am afraid that my efforts, that my slight hesitation, has cost me.

Sniffer number two had gotten up on its hind legs and taken a chunk out of Noah’s arm. I see the blade on the floor and pick it up, delivering a final blow to the creature―a quick and clean beheading.

“Noah, are you okay?”

He is screaming profanities as the venom seeps into his flesh, searing through his veins toward his heart.

“Cut it off!” he shouts.

“What?”

“The arm. Cut. It. Off!”

I bring the blade down. Noah turns his head away as I sever it at the shoulder. The hollowness takes my breath, leaving me feeling drained of all life. Only wisps of a moan escape me as I fall to my knees. There is no time to mourn the loss. The dog fight has gone silent and I fear the worst for Ryder.

The light, swift sound of running paws comes up behind me. I stand, ready to kill another Sniffer, because for everything it represents, it must die. I spin, clutching the hilt with both hands.

“No, it’s Ryder!”

When I see her running toward us, her gray pelt covered with dark red blood, I drop the blade and let her jump on me. Her tongue washes my face with sticky kisses. At first it’s gross, but I know it is her way of showing affection so I let it slide, pulling her face into the crook of my neck.

“Thank you, girl,” I whisper.

Noah is awfully quiet. I think he might have passed out from the loss of blood and the onset of shock.

“We won’t be going anywhere tonight, girl.” I pat Ryder’s back as she limps toward her owner.

I kneel down beside him, passed out between the last of winter’s shaved leaves, inspecting the damage. Ryder lies next to his head with hers resting on his slow-rising chest. The whimper coming from first Sniffer catches my attention as it struggles to its feet. I feel the bad creeping back into me. I can’t allow myself to feel the guilt if we are to survive the wrath of ST.

Straight into survival mode I manage a small fire, grab the gun, taking out the bullet and throw it in the flames. I’m able to take what little gunpowder there is inside the bullet, and with eyes closed I smear it into the gory flesh of Noah’s arm. Using a stick, I remove the red hot metal from the fire. Removing my jacket I pick the metal up, pushing it against the wound. The sizzle of skin has me gaging. I light the stick from the flames, bringing it to Noah’s arm and set the gunpowder alight, cauterizing the wound. The bleeding stopped. I take a step back and throw up in the bush behind me.

***

The wind races past my ears, cold, yet consoling. I must get back to our belongings. I might have tools to sew up Noah’s arm. The forest floor is hard and unyielding beneath my feet. These things are a constant reminder of life. My body aches in odd places as I pound my feet into the ground. I thank the stars for shining so bright on this lonely night, the path seems clearer as dusk falls. The moon is climbing in the sky, highlighting the way through naked branches. In the clump of a hundred trees, the shadows fall dark and tall. The night plays tricks on my mind as I try to work through the shock of recent events. There was actually a moment I thought I was dead for sure. It’s not the dead part that worries me, it’s the coming alive again part. Even having others to consider fills me with dread, because now I have everything to lose. It’s a feeling I don’t understand at all.

The trees and shadows slowly start forming a solid wall around me. The air even feels strange the farther I run. Alive… almost. I feel paranoid all of a sudden when I realize I must have gotten lost. My vision suddenly blurs. Shadows merge tighter. My head starts to feel slightly foggy. My thoughts are weak and lethargic. I stop and find myself surrounded by darkness, the shadows having overtaken the forest. I absolutely hate myself for getting lost. I’ve walked right into the toxic marshlands. It’s even colder where I stand, eyes skimming the dense night. A white haze skirts behind me. A thought strikes my brain; I would only be able to see fog if there was some display of light. I start to doubt myself. Is it the only rational explanation I can come up with?

The vapors wrap around my mind, clawing at my sober thoughts and drowning any sense of who or where I am. I have inhaled some toxic gas. I can feel the effects on my body. It touches every inch of me―both flesh and mind. Then, the high kicks in and I feel light and free. I want to let go, let the feeling carry me away with the stream. A single thought suddenly pricks at me, piercing through my drunken haze; Aecker, and with it, a string of every possibility of a life and a future with him. Now I am fighting for the sober. Grasping any thought to clear my mind from the toxins, I remind myself that I need to get to Noah. I was on the way to the previous campsite to retrieve the tools I needed to mend him. I got lost. I need to find a way out.

The pressure of the situation suddenly drops like a thick veil. Even my legs feel heavy. Breathing becomes a battle. A stifling breath later and it only gets worse. Fighting even harder to lift my lower body, I want to pass out. My head swirls. I stumble into a bush, my upper body held up by its entangled twigs. Totally sick from intoxication by the poisonous fog, I vomit. My stomach heaves and heaves, the nastiness pushes its vile out of my mouth one more time.

The sounds of my own struggle echo throughout the forest. I slump against a tree, trying to catch my breath and regain some sense of balance. The tiniest bit of strength returns to my body after a while and I manage to turn around, taking in my bizarre surroundings. Standing, I take a step forward and suddenly my foot sinks. I now know the weighted down feeling is the marsh I have stumbled in. The ground is wet, stale, and thick with black mud. I have steered myself right out of the shadows and into the depths of a ravenous tar pit. And I am sinking fast. I know not to struggle, but as my lungs are crushed by the tar’s weight, its threat of devouring me whole leaves me shivering with fright. All things I have never dealt with before. The fear is the hardest part, but the terror of losing Aecker is a palpable one that threatens to break me.

I’ve never had reason to panic. And it is something I have to teach myself once again not to do, or be washed away by the tidal wave of it all. I have to fight, to keep going. No one will find and rescue me in the dark heart of the eerie forest. Noah might not last the night.

I’m sinking slowly, my chin almost covered in black tar. It’s acting like an adhesive; my clothes are stuck to the thick texture, pulling me down. I try to swim. My hands fling out, grabbing onto debris around me. The tips of my fingers reach the forest floor. I’m getting closer to the edge. My hands find loose twigs as I keep grabbing for solid ground. Sometimes they claw at nothing. I start a fierce struggle, a tug of war I am not sure I can win, but I’ll die trying. I pull myself forward until the brittle twigs become mossy, black branches. Some snap off in my hands. I keep grabbing until I reach a thick branch to pull myself out.

I have to wiggle my body out of the cocoon of mud. I feel like some kind of insect trying to free my limbs. Eventually, I crawl to my hands and knees, choking up slush and muck. The bitterness leaves me feeling ill. There is a thick haze of toxins hovering over the ground like a poisonous mist. I try not to inhale it like before. I get to my weakened feet and my knees want to give in. I hover right above the toxic plume.

I hear the snap of a branch. It’s nearby. I need to move fast and silently. It could be another Sniffer, perhaps even the ST. But as I move, it moves too, softly crunching leaves beneath its feet. When I run, I suddenly hear the howl of a wild animal. I turn to take it on, I have to. Running from the animal will cost me time, and time is something many of us do not have. Noah is dying and Aecker has been missing for almost two days.

I spin, the animal lunges, all black pelt and snarling white fangs. There is a dangerous glint in its dark eyes―I am dinner. I manage to connect a fist to the side of its head as I fall back, getting my feet into its ribs and launching it over me. It lands on its paws way too quickly and its jaws clamp down on my shoulder, releases, and comes at me again. I scream as it takes a huge chunk out of my upper arm. I hear the break, the crushing of his jaws on my bone as he bites down and proceeds to drag me. I scream, flinging my body around to kick it in the eye. It lets go, howling miserably. I jump to my feet and kick him in the other eye, running for the nearest tree. I grab hold of a low hanging branch then swing myself to another. I look back, the wolf is gone but his pack isn’t. I hear them move in the surrounding marshlands.

Holding onto the branches I stretch my foot out, stomp down on the thin branch below and kick until it breaks right off, widening the gap between the ground and myself. I keep climbing until I can’t take the pain in my arm anymore. My entire body quivers with agony. The throbbing sears right into my throat, my mechanical heart vibrates wildly in my chest. It brands me with fever and dizziness.

High up on the tree, the moon filters through the branches, just enough for me to inspect my wound. My skin flaps like a piece of material. I stifle a scream at the gore of it. I can see right to the bone as a chunk of meat is missing. There is so much blood it covers my right side completely. The dizziness grabs hold, threatening to smother me. I imagine my body plummeting to the ground, the wolves tearing into my flesh. In the crook of a branch I remove my shoes, then my pants, trying to wrap the legs of my pants around my arm. I use my teeth, but the material is too thick, the texture in my mouth makes me gag. My entire body jerks at the next howl, it echoes into the expanse of the wide forest behind me.

Looking into the distance, I can make out the slight movement of the yellow grasslands as the wolves chase after something else. I don’t have time to gather up my pants and shoes. I have to make a run for it.