We ran straight down into the Forbidden Zone. I slammed on the brakes as soon as I realized where the Ferals were taking us, but they tugged on my rope, pulling me over the edge. I could barely see the hulking shapes, squinting in the red wind. My eyes streamed with tears and my nose ran.
“We can’t . . .” I began, but the Feral holding my rope jerked my arms and I had no choice but to follow.
The shapes were so much bigger up close. They towered over my head, not as tall as the Hive, but longer. Some were bigger than others, and as we passed into their shadows, I realized they were made of the same metal as my prybar, and the odd little tubes I’d used to build the strange seat during the Ranking. A million years ago, or a few days? I wasn’t sure. Creeping plants covered most of the surfaces, and some had great openings in their sides, mouths yawning to darkness. Every shape was different, and most appeared severely damaged, caved in and smashed. The ground around was pockmarked from what must have been a huge fall of the rocks that sometimes rained from the sky.
We jogged past the shapes and climbed the hill on the other side. Red pollen filled my nostrils and burned my eyes. My strength was flagging, and I slipped, dropping to my knees. The Feral pulled me up by the rope.
“I know you’re tired,” it said. “But we have to get clear before the pollen ends.”
I goggled at it. Ferals could talk? I remembered the one from the beach. How long ago was it? Felt like years. It had tried to talk as the Soldier’s venom flooded its body. Now this Feral spoke the Lowform language.
“You can—“ I began, but it pulled at my arms.
“Save your breath. We’ll stop for a break once we’re into the mountains.”
My mind whirled as I followed. The Lowform was male, I could tell that now. He was a lot older than me. All four of the Lowforms that were pulling us along were older males. Could they all talk? I glanced over to Gil and Jerome, but they were plodding along, eyes on the ground. They looked even worse than I felt.
In the low, rocky hills, we paused. The Ferals took out water skins and poured them over the fronts of our tunics before giving us drinks. I realized their clothing was not like ours, but fit much closer around their waists and legs. They wore some kind of thick, stitched hides on their feet.
“You can talk?” I asked the one that held my rope.
He rolled his eyes. “Of course we can talk. What kind of nonsense do those monsters feed you there?”
I shook my head. “Ferals are stupid, like waterbugs. They look like us, but they’re not like us. Not worthy of the Hive.” The treacherous part of me snickered. Not worthy to get sucked dry by a bunch of maggots?
The Feral spat on the ground. “Worthy of the Hive. Listen to you. Brainwashed from the minute you’re born.” He sighed. “Look, kid. I know this has to seem crazy right now. And I wish there was time to explain everything. But right now you just have to trust us. We’re saving your lives.” He glanced into the mountain pass where we were headed. “All of our lives.”
They fed us some unfamiliar food, soft and chewy, and mostly devoid of flavor. After another quick drink of water, they helped us to our feet and led us farther into the mountains.
***
We spent the night in a cave on the mountain, shivering on the wet, cold ground. The Ferals kept us bound and tied us to their own waists. They sat us on opposite sides of the cave so we had no chance to untie each other. Jerome looked pale, and two of the Ferals crowded around him. I could hear them whispering, and I had a million questions, but was too exhausted to ask them. I passed out on the ground and woke stiff and sore.
I looked around, blinking in the glow of pre-dawn. The Feral I was tied to grunted and rolled over. I sat up quietly. Gil was still asleep on one side of the cave, and Jerome on the other.
“Gil,” I whispered, eyeing the sleeping Ferals. “Gil, wake up. We need to get out of here.”
He twitched in his sleep but did not wake.
“Jerome,” I said, looking over to where he slept. He didn’t even twitch.
My whispers woke the Feral, who woke the rest of them. He was checking my bindings when a voice across the cave stopped us both cold.
“He’s dead.”
My head jerked up. One of the Ferals was standing over Jerome. As the dawn light spread into the cave, I could see that he was right. Jerome was still and hollow.
The Feral swore, using a word I’d never heard before.
“Blast it,” one of the others said. “But he doesn’t have her. I hate to leave them here to die, but we need to get moving.”
They pulled out more of the tasteless, chewy food, shoving it into my mouth when I tried to resist.
“I’m sorry about your friend,” one of them said to me, “but we have to get out of here. You have to eat or you’re going to die, too. It’s not that far. Come on, buddy. You can do this.”
Hunger won, and I chewed some of the food. They helped me to my feet and we emerged into the dawn, leaving Jerome’s body in the empty cave.
By the time we crossed the pass and headed down the other side, the pollen storm was waning. I could see down the valley to another Hive in the distance. This one was nowhere near as large as ours.
Ours? Is it still yours? Was it ever yours at all?
Part of the south wall had collapsed, exposing the inner chambers to the harsh sunlight.
Ferals poured out of the entrance as we approached. A couple of Masters joined them, Builders and Diggers, mostly, hanging back in the shadow of the doorway.
“You did it,” one of the Ferals said. “You actually got them out. I can’t believe it.”
This Feral was smaller than me, female, with long brown hair and brown eyes. She was dressed like the others and eyed my wet tunic. “Did you get her?”
The Feral that held my leash nodded. “The ‘Mites said so. She’s on this one.” He nodded at me and I stared blankly at him.
Another Feral emerged from the Hive. This one was older than any Lowform I’d ever seen. His hair and beard were gray, and wrinkles lined his eyes. He opened spindly hands to indicate the small Hive behind him.
“Welcome, friends,” he said. “Welcome to freedom.”