9

Bodhi tested the shackles. He could feel the metal links give way as he flexed the muscles of his forearms. No need to free himself at the moment. Just knowing he could satisfied the urge. There’d been no opportunity to test his range of skills. He’d experienced increased dexterity with Selah on the beach but didn’t know if the physical advantages would last once his mental abilities returned in full force, or even if his mental abilities would return. Mental impressions with others seemed to be getting stronger, but they didn’t feel the same as communication skills at home. Here thoughts were deeper, harder to make connections. The only thing he knew for certain—the direction. North. He’d free himself when this pair of boys lost their usefulness.

The strange mix of ancient ways and modern technology amused him. During the travels north by horse and wagon, they had passed four-wheeled machines like he’d seen on the beach. They were distastefully noisy and propelled by an acrid-smelling petroleum product that burned the inside of his nostrils. Fossil fuel use at home was ancient and a bane to the environment.

He’d also viewed top-line hovercrafts zipping over the trees and a low type of craft hovering above the ground. Neither craft trailed a smell so he surmised they used anti-matter or fusion propulsion. It interested him seeing them all mixed together . . . the Elite and Mundane living in harmony.

He came from a world populated by immortals and non-immortals called centorums. While immortals lived forever, barring catastrophic physical harm, a centorum lifespan consisted of one hundred years. The two races didn’t mix—actually, interaction was illegal, which was part of the reason he had wound up in this forsaken land.

Among those two races, people were classified as Elite or Mundane depending on their economic status. The girl Selah probably fell among the Mundane. Her people seemed to be those who worked the dirt. He found her cute and she appeared flattered by his attention. She could prove useful.

He didn’t know why he could generate communication with her. He’d seen her face clearly and she was not a Lander. He’d sensed her back at the barn and now in the tree line when her brothers set up this camp a few hours ago. Her rhythm was quiet and undisturbed. Probably asleep. He decided to nudge her. A test opportunity. Could he wake her with a few thought jabs?

Selah tossed and turned. The ocean shattered. Thump. The people on shore shattered. Thump. Fear. Thump. Sound invaded her sleep, soft at first, then a growing intensity pushing away the pleasant dreams of home. Her eyes flew open. Disoriented. Her mind had been enjoying the ocean, now she stared into darkness. Where was she? She looked at the stars through the forest canopy. A sigh escaped her lips. The Company station.

She must have slept at least three hours. Darkness had fallen. She could have been caught. She’d devise a better plan, but right now she needed to get her bearings.

Selah focused on the sounds. Her brothers’ voices drifted to her as she tiptoed forward. They had pastured the team and were enjoying a roaring fire. She reminded herself how foolish she’d been. It was pure luck they’d never found her. She crept through the tree line parallel to their camp.

In the glow of the crackling fire she saw Bodhi, still shackled, sitting on the ground propped against a tree. Her hopes soared. She could sneak behind the tree when the boys were asleep and free him with no problem. A perfect plan.

She watched Raza and Cleon eat. They didn’t offer Bodhi anything, not even water. Stupid boys! They had never been forward thinkers. If he died before they got to the Mountain, what good would that do?

As though Cleon heard her thoughts, he threw a hunk of bread at Bodhi. “Here, enjoy it. That and a cup of water are all you get of our supplies.”

Bodhi stared down at the bread, not attempting to retrieve it.

“You idiot,” Raza said. He cuffed Cleon on the side of the head. “His hands are shackled behind him. Do you expect him to pick up the bread with his mouth? Go fix it!”

Cleon looked sheepish. He scrambled around the campfire and retied Bodhi with a tether leashing his hands and feet together. It gave him enough room in a sitting position to reach his hands. He bent forward to chew on the bread.

With his head down, his eyes looked in Selah’s direction. They sparkled in the light of the campfire. Selah’s breath caught. Once again he knew she was here. This time he smiled. At least he didn’t appear angry. She owed him an apology and hoped he’d accept.

She drank in how bronzed he’d become from a full day under the sun. The firelight danced on the golden sheen covering his muscular shoulders. A tingle rolled up her back.

Selah leaned back against the tree. She could do this. The boys would bed down an hour later. She spent the waiting time using her new hearing skill to distinguish sounds of the forest. A hiss. Two opossums rustled the undergrowth over a dead mouse. A raccoon passed, probably on its way to the stream to wash the leaves he carried. Owls hooted and a night bird twittered.

She would watch for fifteen more minutes to be sure they were asleep. Raza began to snore as usual. Cleon never snored but he had a disgusting habit of drooling. Sure enough, ten minutes later the glistening rivulet of liquid began to slide from the corner of his mouth onto the sleeve where his head rested.

Selah snuck her way around to the trees behind Bodhi. Just as she was about to break through her undergrowth covering, she glanced to her right.

Two large green-flecked eyes stared back at her. A scream welled in her lungs and she slapped a hand across her mouth to stop it. Backing up in fear, she toppled over. A small hand put its dirty finger to a pair of lips, motioning her to be quiet.

Selah nodded. She didn’t know if this was friend or foe. With no chance of getting away, she decided to comply. The foliage parted, and a thin girl dressed in rags emerged. She pointed toward Bodhi and shook her head.

Selah didn’t understand. Did the girl not want her to rescue him? She started through the bushes again. The girl grabbed her by the arm and vigorously shook her head.

Selah backed up and whispered, “What’s the problem?”

The girl pointed past Bodhi to the other side of the trees. She leaned over and whispered in Selah’s ear, “There are four men camping in those trees. I heard them tell these two they would stand watch half the night if the two boys would look out for bandits the rest of the night. I snuck around them. They’re awake and watching.”

Selah leaned back against the tree, banging her head a couple times. Another mess up. If she’d been awake when they arrived, she’d have seen the other group. She owed this child a big thanks.

Her spirits sank. She wasn’t going to rescue Bodhi here, so she needed to move on to the next station and hope her luck held. She peered through the foliage. She couldn’t signal him. His head was down, his eyes closed. Was he sleeping? Silently she wished him peaceful sleep and told him she would try to get him free tomorrow night. She motioned the girl back into the trees and they moved in the opposite direction.

Selah stared at the girl’s dirty, disheveled appearance. “I was trying to free my friend,” she said as they sorted their way among the trees.

The girl led the way toward the sounds of the stream. “I saw you make eye contact with him, but I wasn’t sure you saw the others.”

Selah saw the stream come into view, glistening in the moonlight. Suddenly something grabbed her around the neck. A hand thrust across her mouth. She clawed at the fingers and tried to stomp on the feet but the grip on her throat cut off her air. She felt herself becoming lightheaded.

“Be quiet or I’ll snap your neck,” the gruff voice said.

She could smell tobacco and alcohol. Fear squeezed her chest. It wasn’t her brothers. Panic set in and her limbs started to shake.

“What do you want? I don’t have any bio-coin,” she managed to croak through the grip on her neck. It wasn’t a lie. Her leather pouch was hidden in her backpack, on the other side of the Company station.

A snorting exhale fluttered the hair close to her ear. Every time she struggled, the large meaty hand increased the clutch on her windpipe. Stars swirled before her eyes. Selah thought of the horrors that befell Borough girls when they ventured too far away from home at night.

Where was the little girl? It was a stupid thought, but the only thing that felt real at the moment. Had the child run away?

On the verge of tears, she imagined the marauder, grimy and unshaven. Please stop. No, this couldn’t happen to her, not now. She blinked, trying to hold the drops at bay. Did she see the child behind that tree? Yes. The child motioned her to back up. Selah didn’t understand. The girl motioned again.

Selah stepped backward into her assailant, throwing him off guard. He stumbled another step back, pulling her with him. She heard a rope slip and a tree rustle, followed by a great whooshing sound.

“I want you to be nice to me,” came the voice behind the sour breath. “I think we should move to—”

A sickening crunch of flesh and bone. Something rough crossed her back, making her stumble forward and fall to the ground. A short scream and a huge splash. Selah jerked up on her hands and scrambled away.

She wheeled around. A large log swung back and forth on two ropes like a sideways swing. The dirty little girl scurried out from behind the tree and grabbed Selah’s hand. “We have to get away in case the others heard him hit the water.”

Selah gaped. The current carried the flailing man downstream. The stream on this side of the station joined with another stream to become more of a river. The water had saved her again.

The two girls ran through the rest of the trees, stepped from the soft forest floor to the pressed hardpan of the well-traveled and rutted road, and crossed to the other side. Selah stopped and leaned over, hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. Her mind conjured visions of what could have happened. Her knees shook. She needed self-defense skills. There would probably be many more lecherous men between here and her father. After she’d skirted the Waterside boys, why hadn’t that entered her mind? Now her arms trembled too. Stop it. Not now.

Selah hugged the child, who struggled to get away. The embrace helped to stop the tremble in her arms and legs and reminded her of Dane. She thought of him on his own at the age of nine and it scared her to death. What if there was an accident and her family died? Who would help Dane? Could she wish for someone like herself to help her brother?

“You saved me again. How did you do that?” Selah asked with a laugh as she released the squirming child.

The girl made the same funny faces Dane usually made after getting free of her hugs. “It’s a tree trap. The older boys made it. Sometimes they get chased by Company soldiers. I can’t let them know I tripped it because they get real mad at us kids for messing with their stuff.”

Selah looked around. “Are there more of you?”

The girl nodded. “I’m usually by myself but there are others that hang around. Least ten. Sometimes more. Depends on who’s passing through. They travel a couple of Boroughs. The neighbor lady calls us miniature marauders. What’s that mean?”

“Never mind. You did good today.” Selah sat on a downed tree. “Thank you for saving me. Who are you?”

The girl plopped to the ground at her feet. “Amaryllis.”

“Amaryllis? That’s very pretty. My name is Selah Rishon. What’s the rest of your name?” She realized this was the first time she didn’t say Chavez.

Amaryllis shrugged. “Don’t know. Don’t remember.”

Selah touched the girl’s head and removed a small twig entwined in the snarled mess that used to be called hair. It looked like it hadn’t seen a comb in years. She foraged for several other protruding stems. The child reminded her so much of Dane. It must be the traits of their age group. There had always been refuse in his hair after he’d crawled through the underbrush watching rabbits.

“Why don’t you remember? Where are your folks?” Selah continued rooting for stems.

The girl sat cross-legged as Selah cleared the roughage from her hair. “Ain’t got folks. Momma said Poppa got killed in a wagon tip-over when I was five. I don’t remember it. Momma died of the sickness thirty-six moons ago.”

“Thirty-six moons?”

“Yeah.” Her hand traced an arc. “When the moon comes up full in the sky at night. I been counting the big full ones.”

Selah gasped. The girl had been on her own for three years. “Do you know how old you are?”

Amaryllis put a grimy finger with a dirt-encrusted fingernail into her mouth. Selah gagged. She wanted to snatch the girl’s finger from between her teeth but feared scaring her. Still, it made her queasy thinking about what was going into the girl’s mouth.

“Best I can remember, Momma made a little Birth Remembrance cake.” She held her fingers together in the shape of a cupcake. “I was nine, and that was the month before she died.”

So she was now twelve years old. It broke Selah’s heart that the girl had no parents. She was learning to deal with that feeling herself. “Who do you live with now?”

“Nobody. I live in the woods and in my hidey-hole in the city.”

“What city?” Selah didn’t remember ever seeing any cities along this road, and she’d come this way many times with her mother.

“The city all broke down in the ground. That way.” She pointed off down the road and through the trees to the east.

Selah looked back in the direction of Bodhi and sighed. Her backpack was back there, but there was no going for it now. Better luck tomorrow. She took the child by the hand. For a split second she imagined Dane beside her.

The girl pulled away. Her eyes widened.

“I won’t hurt you,” Selah said in a soft voice.

Amaryllis shrugged, but the right side of her lips raised in a grin. Just like Dane. She thought about it for a second. “Okay.”

They walked down the center of the road with the moon behind them as a companion. The long shadows they cast added to the eeriness and strange sounds. Selah couldn’t remember being alone outside this late at night, but she worked at identifying every sound.

An owl screeched from a nearby perch. She heard crashing and rustling as it swooped down and grabbed a tiny squealing prey from the forest floor. Sounded like a mouse, or was it a baby rabbit?

The owl screech must have unnerved Amaryllis. She slipped her hand into Selah’s and increased her grip. About a quarter mile down the road, Amaryllis stopped and stared into the forest on their right. She gestured with her free hand.

“You lead,” Selah said. She took notes of the twists and turns through the forest in case she ever needed to come back this way. They broke through the trees near the remnants of the forgotten town. In the moonlight it seemed to have been plopped in the middle of the forest. There were no roads, just overgrown vegetation and big trees. Time and travelers passed it by.

The girl skipped ahead, pulling Selah. She would have let go but she feared losing the child and having her fall in some great chasm where she’d be injured or killed. Dane’s escapades came to mind.

“Come, I’ll show you where I sleep. It has magic light.”

“Magic light?”

“Yes! It’s friendly. It always knows when I come. It likes me.” The girl slithered out of Selah’s grasp and dodged into a pile of rubble behind a huge pine tree.

“Wait!” Selah reached for her but missed. “Don’t run ahead. It might not be safe.”

She felt her way along the maze of stone pillars and tumbled boulders. Suddenly there was light streaming through the jumble of roots and kudzu vines invading the rubbled cavern. She could see where she was going now. Her heart pounded. What manner of light could be this bright? What had the girl found?

“Amaryllis? Come here, please. Where are you?” Her voice echoed as she maneuvered among the debris. She could tell by the change in her echo that the narrow tunnel opened into a large hollow area.

Selah found Amaryllis standing on a jumbled pile of benches and tables. The child grinned broadly, her arms held wide.

“The light is happy to see me! It gets bright when I come.” She twirled around on the flat area of the pile, laughing and giggling.

Selah scrambled into the cavernous room and peered up at the walls. She stared in awe. High above, on a two-foot-high marble slab, were engraved the words “City of Hampton, Public Library.”

Buried in the rubble of time, a library had survived the Sorrows. Now she knew the name of the city. Her father rarely knew the original names of the places they passed through unless they found an old sign or met an aged resident of the Borough.

The cavernous room rose about three stories tall. Cobwebs hung from every available beam and pillar. The shimmering curtains of floss reflected the light emitted by the glowing ceiling. Large, leafy kudzu pushed its way through cracks in the ceiling and crept along the surface in a few areas.

Row after row of stacked glass columns marked by engraved plaques covered the perimeter walls. Mother had taught her to read them. The markings were called a Dewey decimal system—a catalog that survived the ages. Selah gazed at the thousands upon thousands of glass crystals representing digital renderings of books. Her years of education had been accomplished with handed-down paper books, but occasionally she’d been graced with the use of these crystals by one of Father’s traveling friends.

Amaryllis pulled a slingshot from her pocket and reached down to grab a small rock from the litter on the pile. She took aim at one of the stacks on the wall. “Listen to the music.”

“No! Stop!” Selah scrambled to climb the pile but was too late.

The crystal column exploded with a pop and a shower of tinkling shards of glass, creating a lilting melody as it rained down three stories onto a large pile of previously destroyed crystals.

Selah scrambled to the girl’s side and snatched the slingshot from her. “What are you doing? Stop it! Those are books you’re destroying! No one will ever be able to replace them.”

Amaryllis shrank back. Her eyes widened and she began to cry. She crawled down from the pile and threw herself onto the corner of a bench, her head in her hands.

Selah closed her eyes with a sigh. She sometimes yelled at Dane with the same result. Would she ever learn not to scare children? The girl didn’t know what she was destroying. She barely knew her own name.

Selah bit her bottom lip and slowly approached. “I’m sorry for yelling.”

Amaryllis scrambled from the bench, crawled underneath, and hid her face. “Stay away! You’re mean.”

“Please come out.” Selah softened her voice and lowered to her haunches. “I was trying to stop you before you destroyed more books.”

Amaryllis uncovered her eyes and sniffled a few times. “What’s a book?” She looked up as tears created clean trails through the dirt on her face.

Selah balked. She’d heard about people who didn’t school their children. Her mother said if the parents weren’t taught, their children couldn’t do much better. Mother named lack of education as the number one reason that society languished and had never recovered from the Sorrows.

“Did your mother teach you any schoolwork?” Selah asked.

The girl softened her cry. Selah needed to gain her trust again—after all, she owed the child a debt. Amaryllis nodded but then shook her head. “Momma taught me some numbers and the alfbit and how to read some words she wrote on a slate, but then she got sick and we didn’t do it no more.”

“Alphabet. Your mother taught you the alphabet. That’s great.” Selah smiled. “So you know some words. That’s what all of these are.” She raised her arm and waved it around the room.

Amaryllis crawled out to the edge of the bench. She looked up at the walls. “I don’t see no words, just glass, and it makes a pretty sound when it breaks. It’s like music. I come here a lot to make music. I was just trying to show you.”

“I understand now. You didn’t know.” Selah reached out to pat her hand.

Amaryllis flinched and pulled back. She shook her head. “I don’t see no words. You must be wrong.”

“Let me show you.” Selah stood and walked around.

The interior of the building was in adequate shape. Apparently no raiders had ever found it because all of it would have been stripped out for salvage and the power source drained and confiscated. She glanced up at the LED lighting. Somewhere in this building or beneath it there was something nuclear, probably a cold fusion power source with a working motion detector. Selah silently thanked her mother for cramming knowledge into her, even when she fought tooth and nail to resist learning things she was sure she’d never use. Once again Mother was right.

“These aren’t just pieces of glass like in a windowpane. They’re called quartz data glass.” Selah walked to a stack and carefully removed one of the one-inch-square, wafer-thin pieces of clear crystal. She held it up to the light between her fingers.

“Come see.” She motioned Amaryllis over. The girl shook her head and stayed put.

Selah carefully replaced the square in the stack and navigated around various piles of rubble. She glanced at the large heaps of crystal shards. So much knowledge destroyed. She searched for a reader, lifting several chairs and an overturned bench, until she spied a rack pinned beneath a pile.

“Come help me.” She attacked the pile, throwing off chairs and pushing aside benches and racks. How did the furnishings wind up in piles like this when the stacks were mostly untouched?

“What are you looking for? There’s nothing under there. I’ve been everywhere here.” Amaryllis inched forward. Selah turned to her, but the girl backed away again. Selah continued digging.

“It’s something very special.” Selah mimicked the girl’s interpretation of the automatic lights. “I want to show you more magic.”

Amaryllis smiled. “Magic? There’s magic in there?” She inched forward again, peering into the space Selah was creating.

“Here, help me with this.” Selah took one end of the bench, figuring if she could get the girl engaged, her fears would subside.

Amaryllis gripped the other end of the bench and helped Selah push it aside. Selah strained to reach into the mess. She grabbed a grayish-black metal rectangle about two inches wide and four inches long with a narrow slot across the leading edge. The back side had a molded finish for easier gripping. She brushed off the dust and cobwebs and blew dirt from the slot. Now, if only it worked. She pushed the button indentation and felt the hum in her hand.

She turned to Amaryllis. “Go to that stack and bring me one of those glass chips. Hold it by the edges with your fingers like you saw me do.”

Amaryllis scrambled to the wall stacks. She returned, walking slowly as she looked at the piece of glass between her fingers. She grinned and handed it to Selah. “Did I do good this time?”

“Yes, you did very good.” Selah loaded the quartz glass into the reader slot, and a beam of light shot from the leading edge of the reader. Selah aimed it toward the closest surface, a tipped-up table covered with 150 years of dust.

The surface came alive with a three-foot-square screen featuring pictures labeled “Life in the Sahara Desert.” Selah remembered reading about this place in a country called Africa, but she had never seen pictures. Oasis watering holes with camels, men dressed in colorful robes, fig trees, palm trees, and women picking olives graced the screen.

Amaryllis squealed with delight and clapped her hands. “Are there pretty pictures on all of those? How does that happen?”

Selah chuckled. “Yes, all of those little glass squares have pictures on them. You use a reader like this to see them.”

“I’m sorry.” Amaryllis lowered her head and her bottom lip trembled.

“Sorry for what?” Selah touched the child’s shoulder.

“For destroying so much of it.” She looked at the piles of glass near the wall.

“That’s all right. You didn’t know. Come over here and enjoy these.”

Selah laid the reader on the edge of the bench so Amaryllis could watch the screen, then turned and sat on the floor next to the wall. She shouldn’t leave this child here alone. It would feel akin to abandoning Dane.

What could she do? Obviously no one had offered to take the girl. Selah chastised herself. She didn’t have time or knowledge of the area to find a home for a stray child.

Maybe Amaryllis would solve the problem and run away while Selah slept. She had survived for three years by herself and seemed better equipped than Selah. But on her own, sooner or later she’d be snatched by marauders. Selah didn’t want to think about her in their hands.

According to Amaryllis, Raza and Cleon had consented to the second watch. At dawn they’d get back on the road. She needed her backpack and to head for the next station before her brothers.

She pursed her lips. That was her only mission. As for the girl . . .