18Silence greets me as thirty-four students try to decide what to make of my bold pronouncement. A jolt of fear seizes me. Nervously, I look out over the crowd, scanning the faces of people I’ve known for months now, and yet never really knew—not until the enemy came and forced us to flee into the forest together in the dark of night. Emotions of every color play across their faces, anger and skepticism and even scorn. Jovan is sneering, and Vida looks outright pissed, and for a moment my courage falters . . .
Then my gaze falls on Zane, his eyes full of steadfast certainty; on Kieran, who looks interested, and Hegit, whose eyes are alight. Even Megumi has paused in her ministrations, her hands still for once as she waits to hear what I have to say. I suddenly recall the way Djen came to me when Vida went missing, though we’ve never been friends; Mario’s I believe in you; and Mercury’s faith in me at the terraforming bunker. And Divya . . .
My roommate still crouches in the shadow of the gravestone, arms wrapped tightly around her chest as she stares up at me. She has no reason to trust me after the way I left her behind, and yet mirrored in her tremulous eyes, I see the same thing reflected in so many others.
Hope.
In an instant, my doubts vanish. Taking a breath, I speak.
“Ever since the Spectres invaded, all we’ve done is run away. From the school, from the ghouls, from the squatters at the shelter. If we’re not on the run, we’re lost. If we’re not lost, we’re starving. And if we’re not starving, we’re on the run again. In the beginning, we had no choice. We did what we had to do to survive, all the while believing that rescue was just hours away, but the Navy abandoned us! They left us here to die with no explanation, and now that all hope of rescue is gone, running away is not enough anymore. Not when we’re stranded on this rock with squatters on one side and ghouls on the other. If we keep running around in terrified circles, eventually we’re going to run straight into the arms of one enemy or the other, and I guarantee you: escape won’t be nearly so easy the next time.”
I take a breath. “If we want to survive, it’s not enough to run anymore; we have to have somewhere to run to. A camp, a base. Somewhere we can call home, because that’s what this forest is now. It’s our home, whether we like it or not, and the sooner we accept it, the sooner we can stop running and start fighting. Because it’s not enough to just fight for our survival anymore. If we want to survive, we have to fight.”
“How exactly are we supposed to do that?” someone yells scornfully.
“There’s an emergency shelter located on the banks of the Shoqua River. Inside that shelter is everything we need. Food, weapons, Spectre tech, surveillance equipment. Tents and sleeping mats. Shampoo and toothpaste. Extra clothes. Toilet paper,” I add pointedly, and several faces immediately light up at the thought of not having to play Russian roulette with the jungle’s flora and their ass every time they have to go. “You name it, that shelter’s got it. We just have to get in there and take it.”
“Yeah, that’s all,” Vida smirks, “because it’s not like there’s a company of squatters staking the place out or anything. They’ll come running the moment we swipe in, the same way they did at the last shelter.”
“Yeah, they did come running, but it took them nearly fifteen minutes to arrive,” I shoot back. “If all of us go in this time, we can be in and out with what we need before they even get there. Maybe we can even find a way in without them knowing we’re there. Mercury!”
He jumps at my address, mouth flapping in surprise at suddenly being cast in the spotlight. “Uh, yeah?”
“Can you get us into an emergency shelter without tripping any alarms or sensors?”
Merc’s brow furrows as he considers the question. “Well, if we . . . no, that wouldn’t work. But maybe if . . . hmm . . .” His eyes flick up to find my hard gaze boring into his skull. He clears his throat. “Yeah, I—I can do that.”
“Good. Kieran—”
“Wait a second! Who died and made you Chairman?” Jovan flicks his head left then right, an incredulous look on his face as he realizes for the first time that his position as group leader may actually be in jeopardy. “This is bullslag, all of it!”
“Is it?” someone asks.
“I’m tired of sleeping on the ground in the rain,” Xylla moans. “If we could get tents and sleeping mats—”
“Clean underwear!”
“Not to mention deodorant.”
“I can get you that stuff,” Jovan butts in. “I would’ve said so, but she swooped in before I had a chance. If you just give me a sec—”
“No,” I object, unwilling to watch him co-opt my plan then screw it seven ways from Saturn. “It’s my plan. We do it my way or not at all.”
“Your way?” Vida howls. “As if—”
“Teal’s right,” Kieran suddenly puts in. “It’s her plan; she might as well take point. Besides, it’s not like either of you have managed to come up with anything despite arguing 27/7. Maybe it’s time somebody else took charge.”
“Hey!”
“Not a chance—”
A dozen voices erupt at once, turning what was a mildly productive discussion into an outright vocal brawl. I resist the urge to clap my hands over my ears, but I’m not even tempted to speak. Not when I know there’s zero possibility of being heard over the commotion. With a sigh, I try to determine how long I should let them scream themselves hoarse before wading back in . . .
Phweet! The earsplitting whistle accomplishes what no one else has been able to manage today.
Silence.
I’m not sure which is more shocking—the whistle itself or the identity of the whistler. Neither is anyone else, judging by the continuing quiet. Now the subject of everyone’s attention, Zane doesn’t look quite sure what to do with it. But then, he’s the one person who hasn’t spoken this entire time. His words, when they come, are a surprise even to me.
“There’s only one person here who has a prayer of keeping you all alive, and that’s Teal.”
My heart skips a beat. That Zane would back me isn’t such a surprise, but that he would go so far as to say everyone is dead without me . . .
“Why?” comes the dumbfounded question I’m too shocked to ask.
“Because she has vision.”
Everyone goggles at him, and it’s clear that this is not the answer they were expecting. Murmurs break out, mumblings and mutterings and one very clear, “. . . the hell is that supposed to mean?” When it becomes clear that everyone is waiting for him to elaborate, Zane clears his throat a few times. Haltingly, he explains.
“Vision. It’s what allows a leader to lead. A goal, a dream, some vision of what life can be, and a clear path to make that vision come true. Anyone can give orders, but without vision, those orders mean nothing. They achieve little and take you nowhere but around in endless circles.”
“Or endless arguments,” someone mutters.
“Jovan, you have no shortage of ideas, but you lack the resources and planning skills to make any of them a reality,” Zane continues, impervious to Jovan’s gasp. “Vida, you can see the flaws and impracticalities of others’ plans but are unable to come up with any feasible plans yourself. Only Teal has consistently demonstrated the ability to visualize a clear goal, create a plan to reach that goal, and carry it out. Like I said, she has vision.”
“When the Spectres invaded, she’s the one who got us to a landing platform within twenty meters of a ship,” Mario points out, immediately catching on.
“She got us those medical supplies from the last shelter,” Megumi adds. “Without those antibiotics, half a dozen people would probably be too sick to move by now.”
“Don’t forget that she’s the one who suggested accessing the coms system back at the terraforming bunker,” Mercury puts in. “If not for Teal, we never would’ve known the squatters were in the forest. For all we know, we’d be in custody right now.”
“Wait a sec—” Vida starts, followed by Jovan’s, “That’s ridic—”
“The Spectres are smart,” Zane interrupts, speaking over them with a ruthlessness I never knew he possessed. “They’re fast, they’re devious, they’re coordinated. Try to go head-to-head with a ghoul, and you will lose every time. If you want to have any hope of surviving them, you need someone who is smart. Someone who is fast, someone who is coordinated, and someone who is devious. You want to live? Teal is your best chance.”
Zane looks around the group, eyes drilling into each of us in turn, and I can’t help shivering slightly at the intensity in his eyes. I recall my earlier observation—I’m not the only one who knows a little something about Spectres—and immediately upgrade my inference. This isn’t a guy who knows a little something about Spectres. This is a guy who has serious experience with them.
Nervous energy fills the air, punctuated only by a scattering of furtive looks and fearful expressions. Zane has scared them. He’s scared them bad, and he barely had to open his mouth to do it. I’m actually kind of impressed.
“Then it’s settled,” Kieran finally says, with a sidelong look at our resident power couple. “Teal has a vision, a strategy, and the means to carry it out. We’ll follow her . . . unless one of you can provide a better plan.”
The challenge is clear: put up or shut up. Jovan splutters, clearly unprepared to be put on the spot like this, and it’s immediately obvious that no one’s buying his incoherent patter. In contrast, Vida is strangely still, cold eyes silently assessing the group. Judging by the way her eyes narrow, she doesn’t like what she sees.
“Kieran’s right,” she says, to Jovan’s incredulous protest. “Teal’s plan is good. We should follow her lead—”
I raise one eyebrow, surprised she would give in so easily.
“—for now.”
Not a concession, then, but a strategic retreat. My eyes meet hers across the gravestones, and despite the dimming afternoon light, the message in hers is clear.
I’ll be watching you.
An unwitting smile twitches my lips, and somehow, I know, this won’t be the end of it.
Thirty minutes later, we say goodbye to the lazaretto forever. Just as Zane and I were the last ones in, we’re the last ones out.
I pause at the gate, passkey in hand as I watch the shield close up around the lazaretto once again. Though I know we have to go, something about leaving like this feels wrong, as though to leave now is to condemn this place, and all the people buried here, to an eternity as ghosts, conjoined to this terrible moment for all time while everywhere else, life continues on.
“It doesn’t feel right, does it?” Zane suddenly says. “Leaving these people alone and forgotten. They deserve peace.”
I think of all the people I’ve loved and lost—ghosts who haunt my steps no matter how far I walk. I wouldn’t relinquish them for all the universe, and yet . . . “Doesn’t the greatest peace come with forgetting?”
Zane’s eyes suddenly drop, and I can’t help wondering what moments in his past he would forget, if only he could. “Isn’t it wrong, though, to forget?”
My eyes skim across the forest, over the twining branches and vibrant greens and skittering fauna dancing among the trees. A crooked smile settles upon my lips.
“Iolanthe knows. She’ll remember for the rest of us.”