Fire & Flood (10 page)

Madox is staring at the raccoon so intently, I think he’s having a seizure. His little legs are locked in place, and he’s leaning forward. From across the fire, I can see his eyes burning green like he’s some sort of alien.

“Madox,” I whisper again. “What are you doing?”

My Pandora is actually starting to freak me out. I move to stand but stop suddenly when Madox relaxes out of his crazy stare. His eyes return to their normal, nonglowing green and he trots over to where the ram sleeps. Then his muscles tighten, his eyes flick back on, and he studies G-6 like the ram holds the answers to the world.

I can’t speak anymore. I’m too terrified of what will happen if the others wake up and see this. But I’m also afraid of what Madox might be doing to these creatures. I need to
do
something. Pulling myself up, I head toward my Pandora. I’ve almost got him when he breaks his trance, slips between my legs, and heads toward Harper.

The eagle. He’s doing something to the eagle this time.

His eyes are still glowing when I scoop him up. Turning him around, I watch as they dim to their normal green hue. I’m breathing hard, and I feel a little unsteady on my feet, but I pull him to my chest and squeeze him tight.

What were you doing?

I glance at the other Pandoras. They seem to be fine, so I try to calm down. It feels like a few hours have passed since I’ve been keeping watch, so I decide to wake Caroline and Dink. Also, I want to know if they feel like anything is off. Starting with Caroline, I gently shake her shoulder until her eyes open. Then I move to wake Dink.

“No,” she says quickly. “I’ll wake him.”

I nod, wondering about their relationship. Dink may not be Caroline’s son, but she treats him as such, and I’m sure there’s a story there. As the two pull themselves up and dust off their brown scrubs, I study their faces. They don’t seem to sense anything strange, and Madox’s eyes haven’t flicked back on.

Caroline glances at me. “It’s okay,” she says, seeing the worry in my face. “We’ll keep watch.”

I force a smile and lie down on the hard ground. Madox circles three times and then plops down, his side pressed against my belly.

What did you do?
I think again. For some reason, I feel as though I’m failing as a Contender because I don’t know. With my left hand, I stroke his soft black fur. My Pandora closes his eyes, and his body relaxes. For a long time, I study Madox, the way his chest rises in quick bursts. I don’t know how I’ll ever sleep, but I know I need rest. So I close my eyes and try.

I wake to something splashing over my face. Dink giggles as we all sit up and realize we’re being rained on. Leaning my head back, I open my mouth and drink in the cool liquid. It’s not as hot in the jungle early in the morning, and with the rain pouring down my back and over my cropped hair, I feel invigorated.

“Why you smiling, loony?” Ransom asks.

“Because she’s thirsty and it’s raining,” Levi answers for me. He opens his own mouth, and Ransom copies him.

Soon, we’re all standing there, drinking the rain. We look like idiots. Every last one of us.

Madox jumps around and splashes in the quickly forming puddles, and the other Pandoras chase and snap at him. He dodges them and continues playing. I restrain myself from picking him up. I want so badly to rescue him from the bullying, but I have to
start letting my little fox fend for himself. And I’m honestly kind of relieved the other Pandoras are okay after Madox’s glowing-eyes attack.

Ransom plucks his device from his pocket and stares at it. I know what he’s wondering — whether an electronic anything could still function after this downpour. It’s the same thing I wondered the first day of the race, when the rain had lulled me to sleep. Ransom sees me watching him. He gives a halfhearted smile and drops it back into his pocket.

The rain continues as we stretch and yawn and listen to Levi tell us where we’re headed. “Toward where they found the flag,” Harper explains to me, as if I hadn’t heard him. We walk for what feels like two miles, and the rain never stops. At one point, I do pick up Madox. I can’t help myself. He looks so small in the mud and rising water.

“There,” Ransom yells, running forward.

We run after him, Dink ahead of us all. When I see the pole the flag was attached to, I grimace. There’s no way I’ve accidentally missed flags. The pole itself stands seven feet tall, six inches wide, and is painted bright blue to match the flag.

“How did you reach it?” Caroline asks. I was wondering the same thing.

Ransom looks offended. “Uh, what are you implying?”

Caroline blushes, but Harper just says, “You’re short. The pole is tall.”

Ransom crosses his arms. “We’re not that short. In fact, we’re —”

“It was tied to the middle,” Levi interrupts. “Right there.”

We all stare at the middle of the pole and nod our heads. Dink reaches out to touch the pole, and right as he’s about to brush his fingers along it, Levi grabs his arm and yells. Dink jumps, and Levi laughs.

Caroline pulls the boy to her, but maybe she shouldn’t, because Dink is laughing, too.

Harper glances around. “We need to keep track of them.” I think she means for Levi and Ransom to not lose the flags on their arms. “RX-13,” she calls. The bird swoops down and lands on her arm. She lets her onto the ground and kneels in front of the eagle. Then she pulls the front of her shirt up, enough so that I can see her bra is a perfect shade of pink. Of course it is. I’m relieved to see that she has the slightest hint of stretch marks on her belly. Though they’re hardly visible, I’d like to imagine she was once enormous.

“Make a mark in the center of my stomach. Deep enough to scar, but not so deep that I won’t heal,” she tells her Pandora.

“Harper, what are you —” I start to say.

The bird raises a talon and makes a tiny slice three inches above her naval. Blood drips from the wound when the eagle removes her claw.

“Jesus, Harper,” Levi says. “Couldn’t we have used something besides your body?”

“My stomach is a map, see?” she explains, ignoring Levi. “When we find another flag, we make a new mark in relation to this one.” Harper points to the bleeding cut. “It needs to always be with us,” she says. But what she means is: me. It needs to always be with
me
.

Levi rolls his eyes. “You’re frackin’ bananas.”

I stare at Harper as she bunches her shirt up and presses it against the wound. What I want to know is how her Pandora knew how deep to cut. Is the bird suddenly a doctor now?
Maybe Harper’s lost her mind,
I think,
but at least she’s making decisions.
“Let’s keep moving,” she says.

“Which way?” Ransom asks.

“It doesn’t matter,” I answer. “As long as we keep track of the direction.”

Harper glances at me and nods. “Exactly.”

“South?” I want for it to sound like a statement, but it’s clearly a question. One directed at Harper.

She looks in front of us and nods again. “South.”

We push forward through the morning. At about midday, the rain turns torrential. The twins pull off their shirts and pants, then rinse them out in the rain. They wipe their arms and legs and anywhere else there’s caked-on dirt. Ransom and Levi are only thirteen or so, but it still feels odd seeing them in only boxers; their thin, pale bodies so … exposed.

I startle when Harper pulls off her own shirt and pants and tries to get the dirt out. She continues walking in her heavy boots and matching pink bra and undies. When she sees me watching, she laughs. “We’ll never see these people again.”

She may be right, but I’m pretty sure from the way Levi and Ransom are staring that they’ll remember this forever. I decide to remove my shirt, but leave on my pants. Caroline still has her clothes on, and it makes me wonder what she’s thinking. What my mom would think about me showing my goods in the middle of a jungle.

I think she’d tell me to stew in my own filth. That’s what I think.

As I hike between towering plants, trying to pull my shirt back on, I notice something on my side. It’s thin and black and slimy-looking. Because it’s pouring, I can’t quite tell what it is. But when I touch it — I know.

There is a leech on my body.

Oh my God. Oh my
friggin’
God.

Strangely, my first concern is to not let anyone else see. I just want to handle it and then have mild panic attacks for the rest of the day. Then chase it with a thousand nightmares while I sleep.

I pull my shirt the rest of the way on. Then I reach my hand up
my side until I feel it. When I realize how plump it is, I almost lose the charbroiled meat-in-a-leaf Harper gave me last night. Biting down, I dig my nails beneath it and rip outward. The leech comes away in my hand and I throw it to the ground without looking. Making sure no one is watching, I tug the side of my shirt up and glance down. There’s still a piece attached to my skin. The head, perhaps.

I vomit.

Ransom hurries over to me and rubs my back while I retch water. He’s so distracted with my being sick, he doesn’t notice when I reach up my side and pluck the last of the leech away. Thinking back, I know it must have attached when I was lying in the cave’s stream yesterday. I mentally add caves to my Terrible Jungle Things List.

“I’m fine,” I tell him.

“I shouldn’t have given you that meat,” Harper says, appearing sincere. “It may have been too old. It’s my fault.”

“It’s not that,” I say. “I just drank too much rainwater.” I feel like we’re yelling through the heavy downpour when I’d like nothing better than to
not
talk about this.

Harper seems to understand because she asks, “You okay to keep moving?”

“Harper.” Ransom says her name like she’s being cruel.

“No, I am,” I say. “Let’s keep going.” Ransom stares at me, so I raise my voice. “Please.”

He grins and punches my shoulder. “You so crazy, girl.”

“Yeah, thanks for helping me puke. You lead, I’ll follow.”

Ransom kicks his leg into the air for whatever reason, then jogs toward the front of the group. Once everyone’s past the spectacle of me barfing, I slide my hand up my shirt and feel stickiness.

It’s not blood,
I chant over and over.
It’s just rain.

Madox watches me carefully for the next few minutes, like he’s afraid I’m going to eat it any second. I kick rainwater on him every once in a while, and he bites at the air. But he still watches me.

When we reach the only clearing I’ve seen in four days, everyone’s spirits lift. It appears that a few trees died and fell to the earth recently. Now there’s a big open space in the canopy above. Though the rain still comes in violent sheets, it’s wonderful to see the sky.

“Let’s break here and send RX-13 hunting,” Harper says.

“How will we light a fire to cook?” Caroline asks, folding her hands extra hard.

Harper shrugs. “Let’s just see if she can find something. Then we’ll figure out how to eat it.”

Levi and Ransom are already settling down on one of the fallen trees when I hear it — a low, rumbling sound. I’m about to check if anyone else heard anything when Caroline asks, “What was that?”

“Excuse me,” Levi says, holding his stomach.

Ransom shoves him. “Shut up, idiot. That wasn’t you.” He glances around. “I heard it, too.”

The sound comes again from the nearby foliage. It’s louder now, loud enough so that I know it’s not thunder or branches rubbing together or Levi’s stomach. It’s an animal. Though there are six of us and four Pandoras — standing in this clearing, blinded by the rain — it suddenly feels like we’re prey.

The ram, raccoon, and eagle Pandoras seem to sense danger is near. They circle around us and back up, pushing us closer together so that we — the Contenders — form a close knot in the middle.

The eagle stands on the ground but snaps her wings open wide. The ram huffs sharply through his wet nostrils, and even the raccoon pulls up on his hind legs like he’s readying himself for battle.

“Look at them,” Levi says. He’s talking about the Pandoras — their stances, their fearlessness of what’s prowling the dark perimeter of this jungle clearing.

My heart throbs against my ribs, and I glance down to ensure Madox is still close to my ankle. He is. The other Pandoras may have bullied him last night, but they may very well help save him today.

“It’s probably just a jungle animal,” Harper says, though she sounds unsure. “We have it outnumbered. It’s going to leave once it gets a good smell.”

I don’t like what she just said. That it’s
smelling
us.

I can hear our collective breathing; Dink’s sounds almost labored. Taking his hand from behind me, I squeeze, trying to reassure him it’ll be okay.

The growl comes again. Deep. Close.

And then the animal erupts from the foliage and launches forward. Caroline screams, and as the sound pierces my ears, I make out what’s charging toward us — a grizzly bear.

It runs on four legs, jaws open, black eyes set on the ram. Inside its ear, I can see a tattoo. It reads:
AK-7
. Seeing the bear coming, the ram rears up on his back legs. I know what to expect this time,
so I grip Dink’s hand tighter and feel other hands grab on to my arms. We brace ourselves for the ground to shake.

But the hit never comes.

The bear plows into the ram and the two roll in a heap. Somehow, the bear manages to land on top of the ram and opens its jaws wider. As it brings its head down, I realize the bear is going for the ram’s throat.

“No,” Levi cries. He starts to run toward his Pandora, but Ransom holds his brother in place. Like Levi, I want to help. To do something. But we have no weapons, nothing to defend ourselves with.

The raccoon races toward the bear — and seconds before the bear’s jaws hit their mark, the raccoon jumps onto the creature’s back. Spikes shoot out from the raccoon’s fur and embed into the bear’s brown hide, piercing the flesh below.

Pulling up onto two legs, rain washing over its massive body, the grizzly bear releases a bloodcurdling roar. Then the bear reaches around and bats the raccoon away with its massive paw. DN-99 flies across the clearing and its spikes retract into its fur.

The bear falls onto its four legs and turns its attention on us. I brace myself for the worst — but as it moves closer, nose raised, RX-13 takes to the sky and sets her target on the bear. The eagle flies faster and faster, her talons stretched in front of her.

And then she is gone.

Seconds later, she reappears, her talons mere inches from the bear. They plunge into the bear’s flesh, just missing its eye. The bear howls.

“Holy crap,” I say.

“Yeah,” Harper says, and though I can’t see her, I can hear the enthusiasm in her voice. “Invisibility.”

Just like with the raccoon, the bear tries to slam the eagle away. But the eagle vanishes before that can happen, only to reappear
behind the bear for another attack. Rearing back, the bear swats at the eagle. Blood drips from the animal’s back as it moves. The eagle tears at the bear’s flesh, but eventually, she gets too close, and the bear catches the bird between its claws.

Now the ram is back, and behind him, the raccoon.

They fight the bear like this, in rotations, for what feels like an eternity. In actuality, it’s probably only a few minutes. When Dink squeezes my hand, I know what he’s saying.
The bear is winning.

Watching the fight, I know we don’t have much time to make a plan. We must escape while the Pandoras attack one another, but each time someone in our group moves, the bear charges toward us.
We’re the ultimate target,
I realize.

“What are we going to do?” Caroline asks through her tears.

Harper shakes her head, like she can’t believe our three Pandoras are being taken down by this one.

Next to my ankle, Madox barks. It’s just a small sound, but it pains me inside. If the bear gets to us, he may be the first to go. I have to do something.

Before I can make a decision, my Pandora rushes forward.

“Madox,” I scream. I go to chase after him, but Harper grabs both my arms.

“You can’t, Tella,” she says, struggling against me. “We have to get out of here.”

Madox races toward the bear and stops a few feet away. He barks again. The bear stops fighting the ram and looks at the small fox. My head pounds inside my skull as Madox’s eyes flick on, burning bright green.

“What’s he doing to it?” Ransom asks, astonished.

I shake my head and bite my lip.
Get away from it, Madox. Just get away from it.

The bear moves toward my Pandora, transfixed by the glowing light.

And then Madox begins to change.

His head falls back and his spine ripples. Beneath him, his legs and arms stretch longer and wider, and his black coat begins to thicken. My Pandora grows massive muscles and new body parts — morphing into something I don’t immediately recognize. His ears pull in to form neat half-moons, and his muzzle lengthens. And then understanding shakes me to my core.

The baby fox has transformed into a carbon copy of the grizzly bear before him.

And my Pandora — my sweet Madox — rears up, opens his great jaws, and roars.

In that moment, my heart swells with so much pride, I fear it will burst.

Madox doesn’t wait for an invitation to fight; he just storms toward AK-7 and attacks. Rising up at the last minute, he bites down on the bear and takes it to the ground. They fight in the lashing rain for several seconds. It’s hard for me to tell at one point which is my Pandora. One bear gains the advantage and readies itself to go for the other’s throat. But before it can, the bear beneath it ripples and changes until all I see is a flutter of feathers and wings. The top bear fumbles backward when it realizes it’s no longer fighting a bear — but an eagle.

Madox has changed again, taking the form of RX-13.

As if the other Pandoras suddenly understand what is happening, they leap into action. RX-13 dives toward the bear beside Madox and together they sink their talons into its flesh. Before, when the three Pandoras fought, they had to take turns attacking and recovering. But with Madox’s help, they can now fight alongside one another.

The ram and raccoon rush forward to assist the two eagles’ assault. Somehow, though the eagles are quick, the bear manages
to pin one to the ground. The eagle between its claws changes yet again to take DN-99’s form. The raccoon replica shoots his spikes out and the bear howls and drops him to the ground.

Amazingly, the bear still charges forward. It’s like it can’t stop until we’re dead. I almost break away from Harper when I see my Pandora, back in his fox shape, race toward the perimeter of the clearing.

“Let me go,” I scream. “I’ve got to see if he’s hurt.”

But Harper won’t release me, and now Ransom and Levi are helping her hold me in place.

When Madox reaches the perimeter, his eyes flick on. He’s staring at something in the bush, but I can’t tell what he’s copying now. Until he starts changing.

His body widens and grows taller, and his black fur pulls in and lightens in color. His tail lengthens, and a shock of hair fluffs out from around his head. Madox swishes his tail, turns back toward the bear, and locks his lion eyes on him.

As he prowls toward the bear, keeping close to the ground, I notice something appearing from behind him. A shiver works its way up my spine. It’s M-4, and from the look in his yellow eyes, he’s come to help.

The grizzly bear spins in a circle. It can’t win. There are too many surrounding it. But there’s determination in its rigid stature, and I know it won’t stop until it’s dead. As the Pandoras close in on it, Harper whispers, “Let’s go. There’s no use in watching.”

“What are you talking about?” I hiss, spinning to face her. “The bear can still hurt one of them. We can’t leave until we know they’re okay.”

“Damn it!” Levi yells.

I turn back around and hear the bear release a roar that confirms
my earlier suspicions: It’ll fight to the death. It drops onto its paws and races toward the ram.

“Say it!” A new voice crashes through our clearing. “Stop him.”

When I see who’s appeared, I can’t help but smile.

He’s got
psycho
written all over him.