Chapter Thirty-Two
THE SOUNDS OF battle outside the ship died down until all we heard was chatter. I understood, then, the familiar refrain we’d noted before the cannibals fled. These were the voices that had accompanied our journey through the forest. The professor’s ghosts. The woodland spirits that had haunted our steps and fled our fire.
We could see very little through the windows on account of the moss and vines that covered the ship. Now and again, we caught a fleeting glimpse of forms passing by, nothing definite and nothing identifying, but enough to tell us we weren’t alone.
“All right,” Caspersen said. “We’re going to have to figure out what they want. And that means one of us has to go out there and meet them.” She handed her rifle to Matt. “I’m going to go. Johnson, if this doesn’t go well…” She met my gaze. “Do what you can.”
We all protested at this—it was too dangerous, the risks were too great, and so on. But she wouldn’t be dissuaded. And though the idea of her going bothered me, I understood and supported her reasons. We had to know what we were dealing with, and there was no way to do it except by marching out of hiding and facing it, whatever and whoever waited. That part I believed wholeheartedly. The part about me being in charge is where she’d lost me. The truth was, of the pair of us, she was the better leader. She always had been, from the first day we opened our eyes. She kept us going, she kept us focused, and she kept us from turning on one another.
“I’ll do it,” I said. “You stay here.”
“Let me go,” Matt said.
“I got this.” She went through her gear piece by piece, unclipping this from her belt, removing that from its holster until she was left with only a combat knife. She’d even surrendered her mask. “These are going to do you more good than me, if they’re hostile,” she explained. “And it doesn’t sound like they have guns. No sense changing that.”
When she finally concluded, she glanced between us and cracked a grin that almost belied the tenseness of her posture. “Well then. Here goes nothing.”
I grimaced as she turned. I knew if I’d been in her shoes, I’d be scared shitless as I headed down that long hall, perhaps for the last time. It seemed somehow worse to watch someone else take that walk. And yet, I knew her well enough to know that nothing I could say would change her mind now that she’d made it up.
A lesson, it seemed, Matt had not yet taken to heart because she hadn’t gone more than twenty steps before he darted after her. “Tracie, wait.”
“Matt, what are you doing?”
“Here,” He extended the rifle. “It should be me going. You know that.”
“What are you talking about?” She seemed more surprised than irritated.
“We…we need you. We need Johnson and Connor and Cohen and Russell. We need Kayleigh and Kim. We need—hell, we even need Carter. But…” He shrugged, and his point didn’t need further explanation. It was exactly what I’d said from the beginning—although, in the moment, I felt somewhat ashamed for having thought it—we didn’t need Matt. “I should be the one to go.”
Caspersen clapped him on the shoulder. “This is a tactical risk, Matt. I’m not looking for a sacrificial lamb. If I didn’t think there was a chance I might come back, I wouldn’t be going out there. And Law?” Her tone had grown sharper, more determined. “What you did, with the smoke bomb earlier? We’d all be dead if they’d gotten past the gun then. There are no dispensable parts of this team.”
“But Tracie—”
She shook her head, interrupting, “Now, you need to get back there.” The crooked smile reappeared. “And I expect you to take damned good care of that gun while I’m gone, you hear?”
With that, she turned and left him standing there. He waited for a few moments and then did as she’d said. For a minute, no one spoke.
Then the professor, of all people, chimed in with, “She’ll be fine. If anyone’s going to make it, it’ll be Caspersen. They won’t lay a finger on her, mark my words. I’d put odds on Caspersen with a knife verses an army of cannibals any day.”
I don’t think anyone believed him. I’m not even convinced he believed himself. But it helped to hear it said all the same.
We kept watching as Caspersen walked carefully, keeping an eye out for survivors as she went. It might have been possible to hear a pin drop in that hall between every footfall. Beyond our ship, the constant chatter of the voices grew lower but remained audible.
Past chamber after chamber, she went. We caught our breath collectively as she stepped outside, a dark silhouette against the morning sky. And then she was gone.
The chatter ended abruptly. The words were lost to the distance, but Caspersen’s voice, calm and moderated, carried down the hall.
A set of strange voices, higher, almost musical in tone, answered; and then Caspersen spoke again.
I couldn’t begin to guess what was happening, though it seemed, for now anyway, the situation hadn’t devolved into bloodshed. But the wait was agony, second after nerve-racking second of agony.
I nearly jumped when a loud crack sounded near me. It was only Kayleigh, gnawing at her nails. I wasn’t the only one taken by surprise though. A few sharp intakes of breath, and the professor’s cry of “Fuck” were evidence enough of that.
I suspect, had something chosen that particular moment to fall from a shelf, half of us would have put ourselves in an early grave on the spot. We waited, our nerves taut to the point of breaking.
The chatter continued outside for a long time, and then Caspersen pulled herself into the hall again. Every rifle in the vicinity covered her return to us. She walked calmly, with the same measured assurance with which we’d heard her speak. We were a heartbeat away from extermination, but it would have been impossible to guess it from her confident demeanor.
Her pace increased as she put distance between herself and the outdoors. We were supposed to wait behind the barricade, but no one—not even Russell—did. Matt seemed to be shaking with relief, and I figured the rest of us weren’t far behind.
“Well?” I asked.
“So? Are we on the menu? Or are they going to help us?” the professor demanded.
Caspersen exhaled and spread her palms. “I don’t know. They’re the same people we saw in the forest, the ones the cannibals caught. I think they’re friendly. But I’m not sure. I can’t understand a damned thing they’re saying.”
“They didn’t kill you,” Kayleigh said. “I mean, that’s good, right?”
Caspersen nodded. “Yeah, I think so. Unless they’re waiting for us all to come out. But that kid…the one we saw with the cannibals? He was there. He seemed pretty excited. I think it was a good excitement—not a ‘there’s dinner’ excitement. But, again…I can’t understand them.”
“So what do we do?” Russell asked. He’d leaned up against the wall, and blood seeped through the bandages around his shoulder.
Caspersen loosed a long breath. “I don’t know. We can’t stay here, not forever. Not with the kind of supplies we have, not with all these corpses.
“And if they’ve got a mind to, there’s enough of them to make their way in here.”
“How many?” I asked.
“Hundreds at least. They’re all around. More in the trees.”
“So do we go out?”
“We won’t last long in here. But we’re sitting ducks if we go out there.” Silence descended as we pondered the predicament. Caspersen glanced between us. “And I can’t make that call.”
“We can’t do nothing,” the professor protested.
“No. Let’s put it to a vote,” Caspersen suggested. “Do we stay here and see what happens? Or do we go out there and try to make further contact?”
*
WE TOOK THE vote and chose contact by unanimous decision. Technically, near unanimous as the professor opted to reverse his vote a full two seconds after placing it. Still, complaining the entire way that his blood was on our heads if he came to harm, he trailed along with the rest of us.
“No matter what happens, keep calm,” Caspersen said. “No sudden movements. Do not overreact. Carter, that means you.”
“Me?” He seemed genuinely surprised at this comment.
“Yes, you. Don’t shoot anyone if they get too close, you understand?”
“He’s out of ammo,” I said, reassuring her. I’d seen the professor pour through the last of his stash back in the ship.
“No, I’m not. I grabbed a few of the spare magazines.”
“Great,” Caspersen said. “Just don’t shoot anyone unless they’re actually trying to kill you, okay? And Kayleigh?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t know what they’re speaking. I’m going to need you to help with communication, okay?”
She nodded. “Of course.” Between them, Kayleigh and Caspersen spoke more languages than any dozen people. If anyone could open the channels of communication, it’d be the pair of them.
“Do not show fear. It doesn’t matter what you’re feeling; you don’t let them see it, you understand?” We were near the end of the hall now, and the great forest lay before us. Caspersen turned, took a deep breath, and said, “All right. Game time, people.”
And with that, she stepped down. I followed with Granges. Russell and the civilians trailed us, with Cohen and Connor taking up the rear.
My heart hammered in my ears so loudly I could hardly hear the murmur of chatter above it. We were utterly, completely surrounded. Everywhere, men and women and boys stood, armed with spears and slings. There was no mistaking the distinctive brown and green tunics we’d seen at our first encounter—so many eons ago, it seemed now—with the cannibals. These were the same people the hunters had captured and feasted on.
Their clothes, such a stark contrast to the wild combination of furs and leathers worn by the flesh eaters, were the first giveaway, but their frames were a close second. These were tall people, but thin by comparison to the cannibals. Their frames were not so broad, their chests not so deep as those men who had attacked us. They had a leanness to them the others hadn’t.
And as for those others, the cannibals who had attacked us lay in great masses all around, dead and dying. Dead bodies had been strewn haphazardly over the remains of their campground from the day before.
But I had little time to reflect on the state of our foes. We were approaching one another, slowly, cautiously, as one dog might approach another for the first time. They moved first, and then Caspersen advanced a few steps before stopping; we followed. It was a show of confidence but not aggression. I had the passing thought we were not so unlike the other members of the animal kingdom in the moment: one little pack surrounded by so many hundreds, trying to project confidence but not hubris, to be formidable but not a threat.
It seemed to have the desired effect, for the Keplerites continued until they were very near, and then one of their band stepped forward to cover the final distance. He stood tall, as they all did. He wore a dark, close-cut beard the same dark color as the hair atop his head. His eyes conveyed an unmistakable sharpness, and though I knew nothing at all about him, I’d already learned one thing. He was no fool, this stranger.
He spoke to us now in an introductory fashion, in the high, lyrical tongue we’d heard for so long—heard without understanding. The words remained incomprehensible, but the manner and gestures were universal enough to be understood as friendly.
Caspersen advanced to greet him in the same way, saying she was pleased to meet him. And, acting on impulse, I think, she extended her hand to shake his. This seemed at first to take the Keplerite by surprise, for he jumped back and studied her quite quizzically.
But then, even as Caspersen started to offer conciliatory phrases and pull her hand back, he extended his own, and they met in a handshake.