Wanderers (18 page)

Esther noticed that Aras didn't say what was on everyone's minds: that they had to send someone so they could see if the pulley system worked or even held up. If it didn't, whoever it was would plunge to a certain death.

Esther was already taking hold of the rope and knotting a small loop in one end. “I'll go.”

Eli started to object, but Aras pulled him aside.

“If she want to go, let her,” he said. “You best off staying here so you can help me bring down the others, anyway.”

“It's easy for you to tell someone else to go,” Eli retorted. “Since you can't.”

“I said,” Esther repeated, “I'll go.”

This quieted the two boys. As they took hold of the other end of rope, Esther stuck her foot into the loop. She wrapped one arm around the braided nylon, holding on to it with her free hand. Then she stood on the edge of the cliff.

The air was thick with humidity. Far overhead, black dots circled in the air. She recognized them as scavengers, birds that lived off the dead.
Did they know something she didn't?
She shook off the thought, smiling at her own superstitions.

And with that, she stepped into the void.

As Esther dropped and swung, she could feel her weight yanking on the rope and straining the pulley attached to its branch so high overhead. So far, it seemed to be holding. She kept her eyes open, and as she dropped back, Esther extended both a hand and her free foot to absorb the impact when she collided with the dusty cliff face. As she bounced off, she began to spin, faster and faster, as the rope straightened. She had not expected this and feared that she would lose her grip. Any more acceleration, and she would be thrown to the rocks below.

Then as her friends paid out the rope a few inches at a time, the revolutions grew slower and slower. Soon, she was heading straight down. The ground came rushing up to meet her and, dizzy yet safe, she stepped onto it with her free foot.

“Made it!” she called up.

The next down was Skar. She had brought another long length of rope; she tied one end to the cord supporting her and dropped the other end down. This Esther used to stabilize her friend from below, steering her away from the cliff wall. After Skar made it down, the nylon cord with its guideline was pulled back up. Then Asha, Michal, Silas, Joseph, and Kai followed, the last held in a wooden crate. After everyone was safely on the ground, Eli and Aras lowered the four bicycles and two wagons, one at a time, to those who waited below.

Eli came next. He was the heaviest, and Esther wondered how Aras alone could handle the task of lowering him. But again, their guide surprised her with his strength. Eli made it safely; the pulley had held up well.

Esther was gazing upward, waiting for Aras, who was securing his dog in the wooden crate that had held Kai. They had agreed that after he sent the dog down, he would lower himself last of all. But a touch on her arm made Esther look back.

Skar was pointing at the horizon.

“We have to hurry,” she said.

At first, Esther didn't know what she meant. Then she realized that a heavy wind was blowing across the valley. The sun had disappeared and, in its place, heavy clouds filled the sky. The stiff wind swept unchecked across the dry and exposed river bed, blowing grit that stung the skin and blinded the eye. As Esther watched, distant lightning flickered across the horizon.

A rainstorm was approaching. And the nine of them were outside and exposed, without tarps or protection of any kind.

Above, Aras was calling, but his words were almost impossible to hear.

“No time! I'm coming down with Pilot!”

As he spoke, there was a distant boom of thunder. The others hesitated and Esther could sense their mixed feelings. Part of them wanted to save themselves and leave the guide to his fate. Yet they couldn't quite abandon him.

Esther glanced at Skar, who nodded.

Skar led the others toward a section of the destroyed bridge that was still standing. It wasn't much, but it had a roof of sorts and was surrounded by piles of broken concrete that would afford some protection from the driving rain.

Then Esther turned her attention to the guide.

The crate was swaying crazily in the wind. From it, Esther could hear the dog barking. Aras had straddled the wooden box and was holding tight to the rope, letting it out as quickly as he could. His long, matted locks were lashed by the wind. Even from where she stood, she could see the muscles in his neck and shoulders strain from the effort.

Esther did all she could to stabilize them with the guideline. It was almost impossible to do; buffeted by the lashing wind, the heavy wooden box swung and spun, and the force of it nearly yanked her off her feet. Yet if she let go, it would collide with the cliff face, where it would shatter in midair.

Esther glanced over her shoulder, and when she did, her heart contracted in panic. Dark storm clouds had massed in the sky, extending toward the horizon. Heavy rain was already visible in the distance.

Above the roar of the approaching storm, Esther could hear Aras's voice.

“I'm all right! Go to the others!”

But Esther ignored him and continued to steer the crate, using the guideline. She refused to look behind her; she shut her eyes, shrinking with dread at the first touch of rain.

Then someone grabbed her by the shoulder. It was Aras, holding his dog by its collar.

“Let's go!” he screamed at her over the wind.

Together, they bent low and ran for the shelter. Esther went first, pulling Aras by the hand; he stumbled over the broken ground but still managed to keep up. Ahead of them, Esther could see the group watching from deep inside the overhang.

As Esther and Aras fell into the shelter, the dog at their heels, the sky seemed to crack open behind them. With a roar of thunder that echoed across the valley, lightning blazed across the blackened sky, illuminating the landscape as brightly as a comet. Then torrential rain began to fall.

Hands were already dragging them deeper into the protective cave. There, Michal was ready with a dry sweatshirt while Skar checked the two for any traces of rain. But both Esther and Aras had escaped unscathed.

In the recesses of the makeshift shelter, a warm glow revealed the others who had gathered around a small fire. Eli was already tending a pan, filled with dirty water. Once it boiled, he scooped up a mugful, which he strained through a folded-up towel. He passed the drink up front to her.

“Here,” he said. “You need this.”

Esther smiled her thanks, but after a moment, passed the cup first to Aras, pressing it against his fingers. He hesitated, then accepted it. That was when she realized that he was not only trembling from exertion, his hands and arms were torn and bloodied from handling the rope.

Aras blew on the steaming liquid before taking a long sip.

“Thanks,” he said, “for sticking around.”

He was already fumbling a fresh smoking paper from his pocket. He lit it, then held it out.

“You want some?” It was the first time Esther had ever seen him offer anything to anyone.

“No,” she replied.

He hesitated. Then abruptly, he flicked the object outside. It hit the ground, throwing sparks before the rain extinguished it with a sizzling sound.

“Thank you,” said Esther in a soft voice.

* * *

The torrent continued for several hours. Afterward, even after the sun emerged, everyone stayed in the shelter, waiting for the water to either seep into the earth or disappear into the warming air. Most of the party took advantage of the break by curling on the ground and sleeping.

A few remained awake.

Skar used the time to explore the length of the overhang, taking with her the fine new bow and arrows Esther had given her from Aras. When she returned after an hour, she carried a dead seagull. It wasn't much and she knew its flesh would be stringy and acrid; still, fresh meat would be a welcome surprise and she set to work plucking and cleaning it.

Although Esther was exhausted, she also chose to stay awake, checking the bicycles and wagons while keeping an eye on the sky. The scavenging birds she had seen circling earlier had returned after the storm. Clearly, a large animal had perished out there, perhaps a wild pig or even a deer. She calculated how long it would be until it was safe to venture outdoors. If they were lucky, they might be able to steal whatever dead thing was on the river bed and take it for themselves.

Skar had the same thought.

“I'll go with you,” she whispered. The two girls set off.

The ground was baked to a cracked white clay and so dry, most of the rainwater had run off altogether or collected in shallow pools. Even so, the girls took care heading across the desolate landscape, avoiding the deep cracks in the earth that still glistened with moisture.

Ahead of them, they could see that the seething mass of birds had piled atop their food, fighting and squawking. The sound of their cries echoed across the valley. As they ate, the sun shone on their shifting black feathers, creating an oily sheen. Smaller scavengers also hopped along the outskirts, squabbling over bits of meat that fell to the side.

When they were close enough, Esther and Skar both began to shout and clap their hands. Startled, the birds rose in the air as one, a feathered mob with a single mind. Then as the girls ran forward, their cloud broke apart and each bird took off alone, screaming its fury.

Smiling, Esther got to the dead thing first, already reaching for her knife. But when she saw what it was, she gave a cry.

It was a human body.

Still clothed in tattered white robes, jeans, and sneakers, it lay face down, one arm extended in front of it as if in appeal.

When Skar joined her a moment later, Esther had one hand pressed to her mouth and her face was white. For while the birds had done terrible damage to the body, the worst wound had clearly been inflicted by another person. The back of the person's head had been blown away.

Esther hesitated, then turned to Skar, who nodded. Her expression was grim.

Esther reached with a foot and taking great care, prodded the shoulder, which was sodden with rainwater. In one quick movement, she turned the corpse over, so that its face was revealed.

It was a boy. And although time and animals, not to mention exposure to the sun and rain, had done their cruel work on what used to be its face, there was no mistaking who it was.

Rafe.

Attached to the front of his robe was a tattered piece of paper, damp around the edges. It was a frayed remnant of map, with clumsy, block letters scrawled across it that were just legible. Esther needed several moments to decipher it.

He wunt git to Mundreel neethr.

Skar and Esther had to improvise a burial. The ground was too hard to dig and they had no tools; the two girls ended up collecting rocks to cover him with, so more animals couldn't get to him. As she worked, Esther's heart was hard inside her, for all that Rafe had done and brought upon her.

Still, he had been human, like her.

“Let's keep this between ourselves,” Esther said, as they headed back.

Skar nodded. Neither girl spoke what was on her mind:
Lewt and the others had killed him. But where were they? Why had they left the message? Even now, were they lying in wait for them?

“What will we do if they . . .” Skar began, then trailed off.

At first, Esther didn't answer. Then she said the only thing she could think of. “We'll find out when we get there.”

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

..................................................................

T
HREE DAYS LATER
, J
OSEPH POKED HIS HEAD FROM HIS WAGON AND
squinted at a road sign.

“Look.”

From her bicycle in front of him, Esther tried to read the sign, but the letters swam in front of her eyes in a senseless jumble.

“I think it's another language.” Her friend sounded excited, although Esther didn't know what his words meant. Seeing her confusion, he added, “I think we're almost there.”

She could only hope so.

While the caravan had managed to rejoin the major highway and get back on track, a trance seemed to have settled over the group.

It wasn't due to hunger. The pointed nuts with the leathery caps were plentiful; and after they were boiled until the water ran clear and then ground into a thick paste, they were even good to eat. Skar, too, was able to catch an occasional rabbit or squirrel to add to the pot, sharpening and reusing her remaining arrows as best she could. And while the drinking water they boiled was often cloudy and musty, there was enough of it as well.

Everyone was dazed by exposure.

After so many days on the road, the incessant glare of the sun and the air itself threatened to erase any vestige of civilization they had once known. As Caleb predicted, they had begun to feel like animals.

Esther realized how she missed sleeping in a familiar bed, in a home that was hers. Even a solid roof and sturdy walls would mean so much to all of them; she hoped that the next building they reached would be intact, if only for the night.

They took the next exit and followed the smaller road another mile.

There they saw it.

A strange-looking rectangular structure stood by itself on the edge of an asphalt lot, a dusty pickup truck still parked in front. Looking like one of the ancient train cars that sat on rusted tracks leading outside of Prin, the little edifice, one-roomed and almost too small to be called a building, had windows on all sides, as well as two short steps leading up to a door in the side. Though most of the paint had long since peeled away, a bit of green remained.

When she poked her head in, Esther realized it was a restaurant, though different from others she had Gleaned. There was a long, dusty counter that ran down the length of the room, with round-topped stools in front. No more than an arm's reach away was a row of booths, each made of two cracked-leather couches facing a narrow table. The black and white tiles on the floor were mostly intact; the windows were unbroken and even the ceiling had no holes that she could see. All in all, it was a good place to spend the night, to rest and regroup, if only for a while.