The Dark Water (21 page)

She can see it in my face. She gives a small shake of her head. Rebellious or not, her eyes sheen with tears. She's trying hard not to cry, her pale chin quivering.

“He attacked me,” I whisper. I don't want to hurt her, but I'm not going to lie.

“And you killed him?”

I clench my jaw. The others stare at their feet, shifting uneasily. “Lisa . . .” I pause, my stomach feeling queasy. “He hurt me, and I managed to stop him. I don't even fully get how I did it. It happened so fast.”

“Go bring him back, then,” she says. “Go restart his life like you just did Brayden.”

I remember his body, the flowers growing through him. He'd be decomposed by now. “I can't,” I say. “Brayden was still alive. Your father's . . . He's not even him anymore.”

She comes so close her breath presses against my face. She raises a hand and I somehow don't flinch and then she lifts my hair, exactly where it had been ripped out. There's blood there still, I know. Her enormous eyes study me, calm and curious, but inside of her I feel the rage and hatred build. She presses a thumb to my cheek, right below the eye her father knocked in. It takes everything I have to let her do it.

“Lisa,” Rob says, stepping forward.

“He hurt you?” she asks, watching me intently. I nod. Lisa swallows, pushes down her anger. “We have to stop the fighting,” she says. I can't tell if she's trying to distance herself from her father's death, or whether she means it.

We're a pretty pathetic group, all of us covered in blood and grime. How can we stop a civil war?

“But Mia needs to bring the source,” Jo says.

Lisa looks at her strangely. “Look at Brayden, Jo. Mia does not need to bring anything.” She turns and begins to jog out of the tunnel, leaving the others looking at me. Rob shrugs apologetically, and follows Lisa, disappearing into the tunnel too.

“I'm glad she didn't just kill you,” Brayden says. Physically, he's looking better, but his eyes are troubled, as if bearing a weight.

I think about Randt's body, the flowers, the source. We all have our weights to bear.

• • •

There are no more Keepers guarding the entrance to the tunnel. Whether that's good or bad is hard to tell, because there
are
Keepers strewn about, moaning or dying or dead on the ground. Others, thousands, still fight down the avenue. I see a blue and yellow Keeper go down with a cut to his chest and almost immediately another Keeper splashes water on his wound and helps him up. The Keepers can regenerate so quickly that the battle might be endless. The ones who are dead on the ground were hurt so badly the water couldn't help them. They have catastrophic injuries; I see many with heads cut off, some with a half dozen arrows embedded in their backs, others with two or three spears quivering from their chests.

As soon as I take a step from the tunnel, I'm hit hard by the insistent pulsing of all these hearts nearby. My knees wobble and I put my hands to my ears, but of course that doesn't help.

“Mia?” Brayden asks, holding me up.

Very slowly, deliberately, I try to push down the noise. I try to block it out, but I can't. It's like someone implanted headphones into my skull, and I can hear the beat internally. Like an alarm going off only for me.

“Where do we go?” Rob shouts, and I can barely hear him over the noise.

Lisa scans the crowd. “We find Arcos. He is the only Keeper left of the Three.” I want to argue, to say we have to find Dad. I need to try to help him. I need to bring him back.

“No way,” Jo says. “We need to go. We're done with this place.”

On the edge of my vision I see a glimmer of light. The wall that circles this city is freaking
tall,
and I can make out the entrance to the city, the gates with their enormous columns shining. But there's something else there now, bright and moving.

A spark of light from the lip of the crater drifts lazily into the air and then seems to pick up speed, faster and faster until it strikes the side of one of the taller buildings. Arcos's building.

A flash, and I feel air get sucked from my lungs. The building explodes, the dome bursting apart and toppling down, crushing smaller buildings below in a flaming pile of wreckage. My mind can't process what I'm seeing.

Lisa cries out. All the Keepers stop and stare, their faces shining in the brightness of the explosion.

There're more noises now, small
cracks,
and gashes of light. I feel ill, remembering the sounds from Furbish Manor, the
buzz
of bullets whistling through the air. It's the sound of an attack.

“Sutton,” Brayden says over my shoulder. I start so badly I lose my balance and slip, but he catches me. For a second I lose control and watch through his eyes, not mine. He puts his arms around me and we watch Capian on fire as if this was fireworks and not the end of this world.

JO TURNS TO BRAYDEN, HER FACE ETCHED WITH ANGER.

“You did this, didn't you? You did this again.”

My stomach turns. I remember the moment he betrayed me back in the Cave. The moment he opened the back door for Sutton.

“What?” he says, raising his hands. “How could I? I'm here with you. I
told
you he sent me here to get the source. I've been with you the whole time.”

“Who? For who?” Lisa asks. She's skittish, I feel it in her heartbeat and see it in her pale face; she's almost shivering. I don't blame her. Her entire world has changed in the blink of an eye.

“For Sutton,” Rob says, trying to be helpful. “He's the one who replicated the effects of the waterfall water in a virus Topside. The guy who's responsible for the explosions.”

The Keepers on the street stand side by side now, confused and distraught. Some are running to Arcos's tower to help. Others use the time to see to the injured. It's an opening in the fighting and I feel a little more in control of my body so I'm gonna take it.

I jog unsteadily to the mini-aqueduct in the center of the boulevard, toward where my father was, and the others follow. Keepers run to and from the water, filling their little bags like firemen in a bucket brigade, rushing to help others. I find him there, his head bent over the edge by the weight of the spear. Blood pools around him, swirling in the water.

I touch his face, my shaking hands betraying me. His skin is clammy and cold, and I concentrate and try to
reach
out to him but am not sure it's working. It's hard to understand what you can't see, what you can only
feel,
and when I try to will his heart into beating nothing happens. I wait; the others give me a moment even though we have none to spare. But nothing happens. Maybe I can only heal the living, maybe I can't bring back the dead.

“Oh, Mia,” Jo says, joining me. She hugs me from behind, but all I want is to make his heart start again. What's the point of this power if I can't bring back my dad?

There are more shots, many more, and it's clear that Sutton and his crew have made their way into the city proper. Another rocket launches, smashing another building, and the Keepers around us let up a moan. Their hearts flare up in my mind, the noise unbearable.

“We have to stop Sutton,” Jo says, and I feel her rage through the warmth of her embrace.

“How?” Brayden asks. “He has guns. We have a spear.”

“It does not matter. There is no choice,” Lisa says, looking grim.

I move closer to Dad and put my hand on his chest.
Please,
I say to myself or to the source, the little bit of it that I have inside me.

“Come on, damn it,” I grunt, pushing at him. He sloshes in the water. I push again, I reach out, I try to imagine his heart starting. I try. But I don't know what I'm doing. I don't understand or realize what the source has given me. The others watch me, and then Jo puts her hand on my shoulder and I stop, breathing hard.

I can't take him with me. I can't bury him. I can't do anything.

“What have you done?” a voice bellows, and we all startle up. Everyone near us is surprised. Hurrying our way, now armored in fine, shining red chain mail, is Arcos. He seems bigger than I remember, his bulk bulging from the armor. There's a gash on his forehead that's closing as he walks, and by the time he gets to us he's healed, and pissed.

“You brought them?” he shouts, pointing toward the gunfire. “Do you think I do not know of your metal pieces that rip open bodies? You think we do not understand how to make your gunpowder, that we do not have your charcoal or sulfur? You are unwanted, you usher in the death of Feileen, and now . . .” He stops, looks at me for the first time. His pupils dilate and I can feel something tugging at the edge of my conscious, like he's searching for something.

“What did you do?” he asks, his voice barely audible.

Lisa steps in front of me, hiding me in her shadow.

“She has taken Feileen's place.”

“This is not possible. I cannot feel Keeper Randt. Where is he?” he asks, confused. He blinks rapidly, his face flustered, and I can almost see him reach out with his mind to find Randt's beating heart. I try to mimic him and extend my senses his way. Suddenly, the world around me flashes into color and heat, every person around me shining with energy and pulsing with light. Like little halos. Jo and Rob and Brayden, even, their skin tints gold and shivers with every movement. I'm getting tired, a headache growing on the spot, and I realize quickly that whatever I'm doing I can't do for long. Arcos, though, is unlike the others. He's a bonfire among twigs. He could turn into a phoenix and fly away and I wouldn't be surprised—the amount of energy pushing through his veins and out of his body is mind-boggling. Does he see the same from me, now that I've drunk the source?

“You abominate yourself,” Arcos finally says, his lips flapping like bright butterfly wings. I pull back, let the brightness around everyone fade and take a tired gulp of air. “The Topside is dying, as are we. We keep and protect the source
from you.
” He pauses here, his eyes searching. The gunfire gets closer. Keepers nearby don't move. They're shaking, real fear of this new enemy swelling all around us. But I keep my gaze on him. He is, in some ways, the only one who's like me now. “And we failed,” he says, almost to himself.

I gently touch my father's cold and lifeless hand. He has no aura around him, like a battery gone dead. “I didn't ask for this. For any of this. But it seems like now it's just you and me. And the real
danger
is them.” I point down the street. “There's the man who's killing your people. Who's trying to get to the source. Who will use it in ways I can't even imagine.” I stare him down. “You will help us leave. Stop this man, and I'll destroy the entrance to the well when we get back. No one will bother you again.”

“But you drank of—”

“I'll leave, you'll be alone. The Seven are gone. You will choose Randt's successor and rule however you want to. Now help us.”

He considers. The Keepers around look on eagerly. They don't want to be fighting one another. They're all cousins, they're all Keepers, and just down the street is a threat that they probably used to whisper about in bed, the Topside, monsters from above coming down here to get them, to kill them. Trying to steal the source.

“You're Keepers. This is what you do. Keep it safe.”

The big man takes on a shrewd look, and I can see I've got him. He buys my logic, or wants to. He can let me go and save face. Arcos turns to the Keepers near him and shouts an order. They let out a cheer and rush off, dispersing in all directions.

“They spread the news,” Lisa says. “We are to keep together once more.”

Many of the Keepers were dazed by the flames and the fires. But as Arcos's men run through their ranks, rallying everyone together, it's as if a spell is broken. For the briefest of moments there's a pause, and then the Keepers turn and run, straight to the sound of fighting, their bodies a blur of white and color, their sins forgotten. They run to do their duty, to protect the source.

• • •

Lisa makes to follow them, but Arcos takes her by the arm, his hand easily wrapping around her bicep.

“You are a clan leader now. You cannot be risked,” he says, somewhat disdainful. She looks so small and young next to him. Her face frowns up in the rebellious way I've come to know, but she doesn't fight him.

“Girl,” he says to me, “make their hearts stronger.”

I don't get it, but then I feel him, pushing a flare of energy out of his body, and though I doubt the others can see it, I can. It zooms down the street, hitting Keepers in their backs, and I can feel their bodies surge faster, their colors glowing, their resolve strengthened.

He holds out a shining hand, and I take it, feeling him work through me, using my source of energy. I
see
how he does it now, how he pulls from me to feed the women and men who rush off to fight. It feels strange, but familiar, like the way my body drains during a good swim.

The Three weren't just leaders, they
made
things happen. Just as they took from Keepers, their thoughts and visions, they also gave part of themselves to their people to ensure health and good spirits and strength. They literally were the heart and soul of the Keepers. I gasp, exhausted, and Arcos breaks contact. He looks winded, his face sagging, and he stumbles. His honor guard, three Keepers and Palu, are here with us. They catch him, hold him up.

“We need to get him to safety,” Palu says.

Arcos shakes his head. “No, we are the Keepers of the Source. I must be here.”

They look dubious but stand down.

“I'm not staying here,” Jo says. “I'm not going to just sit and wait. The Keepers have this under control—now's our chance to get back to the Cave without Sutton waiting for us.”

“She's right,” Brayden says softly in my ear.

Rob's watching me, waiting for orders. They've seen the change in me, and I wonder if they're afraid at all.

“We go. I should never have brought you here.” I pause, a pain welling in my chest. I don't want to look at Dad; his body seems empty and unreal. I don't want to say good-bye.

“Little one, sister of mine,” Arcos says, his deep voice genuinely worried, his pale face paler. I'm surprised at him, but then again, he just sucked my energy out of me to help his people. He was
in
me and my mind. Maybe he knows I'm not his enemy. “Stay. You can learn from me. I can teach you of your powers, of what you can or cannot do, of what life flows through you. You can keep. The others will go.”

“I've got to keep my own people safe, Arcos. I'm sorry.”

There's a loud explosion just up the road, and I see Keepers run for cover, white hands over their heads. I motion to my friends, and begin to jog down the boulevard toward the gates and the explosion.

“Mia,” Lisa calls.

“We're not staying, Lisa,” I say, my voice sharp.

She catches up to me. “I was not trying to stop you. Do not be impatient and a fool, running to the fires. I will guide you safely through the worst of this.”

Down the road, there are thousands of Keepers charging into battle. I wish I'd told them that standing in tight clumps is the worst thing to do against machine guns.

“Yeah, okay, thanks Lisa. Lead the way.”

“Come,” she says, and turns sharply down a street and then into a tunnel. We follow, four Topsiders sprinting into the darkness.

We run underground into the tunnels and around for what seems like forever. I reach out with my senses and warn Lisa when I feel large groups nearby. Above us, tangled masses of Keepers push forward. Occasionally I sense a different feeling, a Topsider, but more than once the soldier's pulse is weak and dying. It sounds like we're winning. It
feels
like we're winning.

When we come out of the tunnel, there is smoke and wreckage everywhere. A building must have toppled onto the street. Lisa only hesitates briefly, then turns our way. “It is still the quickest path,” she says, indicating the jumble of rock.

“Go,” I say, nodding forward. Soon we're climbing over and through rubble, the dust almost suffocating. The fighting's closer, gunshots so near that we see muzzles flash.

Jo takes a step ahead of me and falls straight through a pile of debris, a scream escaping her lips.

My instincts are shiny and new, and I manage to catch her arm before she's under.

I feel it snap or tear or dislocate. She groans in pain, and I fall on my ass, trying to find purchase to keep myself from falling in after her.

Brayden grabs me around the waist, and Rob manages to get ahold of Jo's hand. We pull her up, slowly. She's covered with a fine dirt, her clothing brown and her hair sifting dust. She gratefully takes a sip from Lisa's water pouch and rotates her shoulder gently into place.

“I'm glad the water heals and all, but I wish I didn't have to use it,” she says, in decent humor considering the circumstances. “You think everything's okay Topside?” she asks, suddenly serious.

For a moment, I try to figure out what exactly she's looking for. Does she want me to reassure her about her mom? About Fenton? Does she feel guilty for having stayed so long? I remember the argument we had when we first arrived, how she wanted to go back home. And I want to reassure her that the source that's in me now was worth it, is going to fix everything. But our dads are dead, the world we knew is gone. I can't just lie. I tug her hand, to let her know I'm here, to remind both of us that after all this, she has me and I have her. I need her. I have no one else.

I smile, and open my mouth to tell her that, but then I see the red dot appear on her chest.

“Jo,” I whisper, quick and harsh.

“What?” She's oblivious.

“When I count to three, I want you to fall to the ground. Everyone. And then go back the way we came as fast as you can.”

The red dot is connected to a red beam that swirls in the dust. Jo sees it now twitching on her chest and freezes. The others tense too, like deer in headlights.

“One,” I say, reaching out with my mind to find the soldier with the gun, but I don't have a good handle on how to focus. Behind me I feel hearts beating, but I can't tell how many or who or where.

“Don't move,” someone shouts over my shoulder.

“Two,” I say, giving up trying to learn more about the soldiers. I can't try something I don't fully understand. Jo's staring at me, the dot still there. She's breathing hard but otherwise is calm, ready to dive, standing at the edge, trusting me.

“Three,” shouts someone who's not me and then a
bang,
much closer and louder than I could ever have expected. Jo's knocked backward, right off her feet.