Authors: Victoria Scott
“What’s it doing?” Harper yells, waving her arms in front of her face.
“I — I don’t know.” Olivia stands. She goes to move toward EV-0, but Jaxon grabs the back of her shirt and pulls her against him. Harper watches the way Jaxon shields Olivia with a strange look on her face. One I can’t quite read with the airborne sand blurring my vision.
The elephant stops blowing through its trunk, and when the cloud settles along the ground, I see that a small pit has been created in the earth. Other than that, nothing spectacular has happened. Olivia breaks away from Jaxon and throws her arms around her Pandora, which still has its trunk buried in the sand.
Bending down on its front legs, the elephant blows one last time into the earth — and the shallow pit fills with water.
“Get the heck outta here,” Jaxon says.
The water gurgles from beneath the pit, and soon there’s a miniature pond of clear water reflecting the burning sun. Caroline doesn’t hesitate. She drags Dink to the side of the water and splashes it across his face and over the sweat-soaked curls on his head. His eyes stay closed, but a low groan escapes his throat. Keeping an arm around his shoulders, Caroline fills the boy’s canteen and brings it to his lips. He drinks greedily.
After that, it’s a mad dash to the water.
Guy and I fill our canteens as Olivia drinks straight from the pool of water. I’d find it a bit gross that she’s drinking straight from the source we’re filling our bottles, but she’s beat out on the grossness scale by the lion, eagle, cheetah, and fox tongues lapping up the liquid.
So Madox
was
thirsty,
I realize.
And he was reserving what water I had for me.
I know my Pandora’s been programmed to help me win, but I can’t help feeling like he did it for more than just that reason. My heart aches watching him drink with insatiable thirst, and I pledge to force him to share my water going forward. ’Course, I guess that won’t be an issue since this baby elephant can apparently find water from inside the earth via its magical trunk.
Caroline and Jaxon fill their canteens last, and we all lounge in the sun, drinking water until our bellies are full. Olivia scratches her Pandora behind its ear; it has withdrawn its trunk from the ground and is drinking the water itself now.
“So …” Jaxon says. “Did that elephant just spit up water and we all drank it?”
“Don’t think about it,” Harper says.
Immediately, Jaxon nods.
Of course,
I can see him thinking, staring at her.
What an idiot I am to have thought that. You are so wise and beautiful and perfect.
Harper doesn’t seem to realize he’s studying her. That he seems awfully close to eating her face to see if it tastes like happiness. Knowing Harper, it probably does.
Before we leave the pit, we each take a turn washing the stank off our bodies — something we’re all thankful for. And then, with thin limbs and protruding guts, we continue walking through the desert. Olivia leads, with the elephant by her side. Guy suggested the idea to have her at the front, and ever since, the portly, frizzy-haired girl has trekked at the top of our group with her chin tilted toward the sky. I have to admit, I’m quickly becoming a devout Olivia fan. And her elephant? Any Pandora that can produce water in this hellhole is A-OK by me.
Madox circles my ankles and looks up at me so intently that he trips over his own feet. He seems to be saying,
It wasn’t
that
cool, Mom. I can do anything it can do.
I want badly to pick him up, but even though I’ve had my fill of water, I’m exhausted after walking so far today.
When the sun begins to set, we do exactly as we did the night before. Caroline fusses over Dink. Jaxon ogles Harper. The boys gather desert carnage for our beds. Guy watches me undress. I imagine our wedding.
We gather around the fire M-4 lights and talk for a few minutes. Everyone is fatigued and it isn’t long before I hear Jaxon snoring.
“Guess Jaxon can take the late shift,” Harper says, rolling her eyes. She assigns our shifts, and Caroline, Guy, and Olivia speak over her, echoing her words.
“We know our shifts,” Caroline says, grinning. She fingers Dink’s curls as he closes his eyes. It’s obvious he’s not quite asleep, but he seems to be fading fast. Though he drank as much water as
we did, he still seems … off. Usually, he’d be the last to lie down, and only after he’d drawn pictures in the dirt or sand for a half hour or so.
I lie down, keeping my eyes on Guy. He’s stretched out on his back, his hands folded beneath his head. I realize I’ve hardly ever seen him sleep. There was this morning, and also when I followed him in the jungle and he slept in the trees. Maybe he doesn’t need sleep like the rest of us do. Maybe he really is a machine. I’d like to cut him. Just a little bit. Just to see if he bleeds. Then I’d like to kiss the spot and take the hurt away.
What is
wrong
with me?
Guy turns his head and looks in my direction. Just as I suspected, he isn’t asleep. Instead, he’s studying my face, like he couldn’t fathom succumbing to slumber before I do. I smile at him. It isn’t something I do much anymore, but right now, feeling his undivided attention — I give in to temptation.
He doesn’t smile back, and an unreadable expression shadows his face. I can’t quite interpret what it says, but I know it’s mixed with worry. For some reason, it makes me furious. I don’t need his concern. I can take care of myself, and I think I’ve proven that.
Turning away from him, I shut my eyes. I think of my brother and realize with stinging guilt that it’s the first time I’ve thought of him since arriving in the desert. I’ve been too occupied with the man who’s here now. And for the first time, I wonder — if that’s exactly what Guy wants.
I wake to someone rubbing my upper arm. When my eyelids lift open, the first thing I notice is the dark stubble along Guy’s jaw. He shaved at base camp, but it’s already grown back, casting a shadow on his wind-worn face.
His steady blue eyes watch me as I pull myself up.
“You woke me,” I say quietly. “I can’t believe it.”
He shrugs one shoulder and turns toward the fire. It’s roaring and crackling in the cold desert night, and I imagine he must have had M-4 relight it moments before. Scooting close to him, I feel the heat rolling off the flames.
“I’m glad,” I finish.
“You didn’t seem as tired tonight.” Guy rubs his hands together, then places them on his knees. He seems nervous, but I don’t think it’s because he has something to say. It’s more like he seems embarrassed to have woken me up. Like he’s afraid I’ll realize he wanted company.
That he was actually lonely.
I know he’s not going to initiate a conversation, so I decide to ask him the questions I’ve been harboring. I start with the easy stuff. “Guy?”
He looks at me.
“What did you mean when you told Caroline, ‘you know,’ after you said Dink should go with you guys?”
Guy stares into my eyes for a long time, searching. Then he says, “I just meant that he’s got to start doing things for himself. Caroline is stronger than she appears, but no one’s survival is guaranteed out here. If something were to happen to her —”
“There’d be no one to baby Dink anymore,” I finish.
Guy nods.
I’m not sure I believe what he’s telling me is the truth, but I have no reason to think he’s lying. Running my hand over Madox’s sleeping body, I ask my next question. It’s not the one I’m most curious about, but I’m going for easier banter before I pull out the big guns. “When did you get that tattoo?”
He swallows and glances toward his lion. “A few months before I left.”
This surprises me. I thought maybe it’d been something he did right after he received his invitation. As a let’s-get-ready-to-rumble
symbol. But then, I guess it’d be all scabbed over like the miniature one my BFF from Boston, Hannah, got on her ankle. Of her own name.
“It’s a bird, right?” It’s the second time I’ve asked this, but I feel like maybe he’ll answer now that we’re sort of alone.
Guy runs a hand over his fresh stubble, and I’m suddenly envious of that hand. “Yes, it’s a bird.”
“Any particular kind?”
Guy looks right into my eyes, and my heart stops. I imagine I’m dead, and this is what heaven feels like. The way he’s staring at me makes me think I’m missing something important. “It’s a hawk,” he says slowly, so quietly I almost don’t hear him.
“Oh” is all I can think to say.
He looks at me for another full minute, then glances back at the fire. Guy is a mystery. From the way he speaks to the scars and disfigurements across his body. And I’m ready to get answers.
Real
ones. I swallow the lump in my throat. Last question. “You know more about the race than what you’ve already told me.” I squeeze Madox’s short tail in my palm. “I want you to tell me the rest. Everything.”
“That’s not going to happen,” he says.
Anger boils inside my chest. He’s harboring information that could help the rest of us. We’ve all agreed to aid one another until the end, yet he’s not doing that. Not really. What upsets me most is that I know I’d tell
him
. “You act like you’re a part of this group. But as long as you’re withholding information, you’re not.” I lie back and roll onto my side. “I can’t trust you if you won’t trust me.”
He stares straight ahead, but even from here, I can see his face soften. “The only things I know …” He pulls in a breath. “The only things I know are what my parents told me.” Guy glances at me. There’s fire burning in his eyes. “I won’t tell you anything that could bring you harm.”
I sit up, hands on my knees. And I wait. I know to wait.
“It started with a man named Gabriel Santiago. The Pharmies worked for him.” Guy fills his lungs like he’s preparing to fill in the holes in the info. “Some of the Pharmies were scientists who worked in genetic engineering. Others worked in medicine. But they were all creators of sorts. And Santiago, he had the kind of money that could make things happen.
“He was a gambling man. He loved watching his money grow without his lifting a finger. Santiago believed he was born lucky and maybe that he was born smarter
.
Smart enough to know it’s easier and more exhilarating to earn money from being
right
. So he sought ways to gamble: cards, hounds, horses. He loved discovering grander and riskier bets. Because Santiago believed he couldn’t lose. And if he
was
losing, he had a crew of guys who’d ensure it didn’t last long. Gabriel Santiago wasn’t the kind of boss you disappointed.” Guy rubs the back of his neck like he’s thinking. Or maybe like he’s trying to decide how best to tell the story.
“Santiago had a young daughter named Morgan. She was … she was his everything. He’d lost his wife years before, and Morgan was all the family he had left. He gave that little girl everything. Anything she asked for, and anything else she didn’t. Some said he was a cold man, others called him a criminal, but for her, he melted.”
Guy narrows his eyes at the sand between his knees.
“One day, one of Santiago’s guys told him that this firm, Intellitrol, was looking for financial backing. Said these guys were playing with genetic engineering and making huge discoveries in medicine and that there was a fortune to be made. That they just needed direction and cash … and someone willing to take a chance. To Santiago, it sounded like a different kind of gamble, and he couldn’t help being intrigued. So he agreed to meet with them, and before you know it, Gabriel Santiago had these guys working on all kinds of crap. And in general, things seemed to be going smoothly.
“But one day, when Morgan’s birthday was rolling around, Santiago jokingly asked one of the scientists at Intellitrol to make a puppy for his daughter that can fly like a sparrow. At first, they were all laughing, but then the Pharmies started thinking about it. Why couldn’t they make something from two different animals? Or from different elements that existed in the world? This was when genetic engineering was first being discovered, right, so there was a lot of excitement at Intellitrol about it. And they had Santiago’s resources to play with…. So they
did
.”
Guy’s eyes meet mine, and my stomach clenches.
“When Santiago saw the animal they created for his daughter, and when he witnessed how much Morgan loved it, he saw a business opportunity that dwarfed anything else he’d done before. So he told these guys to start making more of these animals … fast.”
I glance at Guy’s lion and think about the fire it created hours earlier.
Guy hesitates again, and I get the sudden sensation this isn’t going somewhere good. “But soon, Santiago started pushing the Pharmies to take more and more risks with these creatures. And as the animals started increasing in numbers — kept in cages below a warehouse Santiago bought — the scientists started worrying. See, none of this research had been approved by Intellitrol. Or anyone. And the public tends to rebel when something unnatural — something
ungodly
— is created. Plus, these scientists weren’t exactly supposed to be taking orders from Santiago, their investor, when it was a public company and whatnot.” Guy bites the fleshy part of his thumb, like he’s debating telling me more. When he looks at me, I know he’s decided to continue.