Читать книгу Book of Fire: a debut fantasy perfect for fans of The Hunger Games, Divergent and The Maze Runner - Michelle Kenney - Страница 13

Chapter Five

I opened my eyes hesitantly.

The bright spring sunlight was gone, leaving a jaundiced, yellow luminescence in its place. But that was nothing compared with the deafening booming noise surrounding us, like the felling of a dozen giant oaks every second. I inched myself up to peer through my sweet-smelling camouflage, and caught my breath in wonder. There was no preparation for the vastness of the holding bay, or its array of chaotic traffic.

At least half of the huge space was occupied with row after row of complex machinery, and varying sized vehicles. I recognized the Sweepers instantly but the rest were new to me, and equipped with a variety of macabre-looking pincer arms and claw grabs, most of which dangled loosely to the ground. Some of the larger vehicles were pulling loaded trailers, while others stood in line, their ominous cargo concealed beneath bulging tarpaulins and packed craters.

As my incredulous gaze followed their progress down the floor, treehouse-high mechanical arms swung and lifted parts as though they weighed no more than bags of goose feathers in all directions. I blinked as random, piercing lights blazed brightly before receding, illuminating parts of the working arms in clear sequence. Tall men in ventilation helmets shouted out commands as the production lines clanged and whirred together, and waiting trailers collected their goods. Somehow, we’d driven straight into some sort of construction heart of the domes.

A loud shout reverberated directly beneath us, jolting me. I flattened out and Max swore softly as a series of heavily fortified trailers lumbered by. Seconds later I lifted my head again. This time I watched cage after cage of subdued animals pass by: roe deer, rabbits, wild pigs, squirrels, wild dogs, and lemurs among so many others; as well as craters stuffed with young forest plants. There was enough meat to feed Arafel for two winters, but something told me these animals were not intended for such a fate.

The hairs on the back of my neck stirred as I recalled the stories I’d grown up with, the stories about how the live samples were used. I forced myself past the harder question that had chased through my head in the past few minutes: if they were so capable of obtaining their own samples, why did they maintain the charade of trading with Arafel? Was it to do with the Book Grandpa had tried so hard to protect in the forest? What possible interest could it hold for anyone in here?

The procession of trailers was completed with a large black cage of silent capuchin monkeys that stared wide-eyed at their new alien surroundings. I could read their fear in their eyes, and my stomach lurched as one small clinging adolescent turned its hollow-eyed gaze back on me. I stared back until I could no longer make out his tiny features, and the chasm in my stomach yawned.

I turned my eyes skywards to steady my nerve. The roof had to reach five times as high as the Great Oak in the forest, only there was no cornflower sky or stars to blink back. Instead, there was a dirty-white expanse, which stretched on endlessly until it met with a bank of black, oval boxes at the top of the far wall. I watched as they pitched and moved fluidly, as though they were somehow following the action on the floor.

‘Tal, we have to move. They’re getting out beneath us!’ Max urged in a whisper.

He was right. If we were to stand any chance of rescuing them, we had to act now, and act fast.

‘There’s some sort of linen truck next to me. I think we can drop down onto it if we’re quick. They’re exiting the other side,’ he added rapidly.

I nodded and quickly as I dared, shuffled beneath the branches towards the sound of Max’s voice. Only when we were lying side by side did I venture a look. His face was inches from mine, and reflected the queer violet glow of the holding bay. His eyes were sombre and serious, searching mine.

‘Laser guns?’ I whispered, as quietly as I could.

‘Deactivated. Look.’ He nodded in the direction of the large firing devices, which were lying flat on their sides. I nodded and without further conversation he shuffled sideways and disappeared silently over the edge of the vehicle. Panic climbed up my throat. What if he’d been spotted?

Holding my breath, I slid across to the edge and peered over the side. Max was lying unhurt about a metre below me, cushioned by huge bundles of cloth. The sides of the container were higher than its bundled contents, providing better cover than the Sweeper roof. Five seconds later I was cushioned by the same gigantic cloth nest, and for a few seconds we lay there together, as inert as the sheeting around us.

‘He said he destroyed it – you heard him! There was no point bringing him in here.’ The voice was low, steely, and coming from outside the container. I knew in a breath who it belonged to, and sunk my teeth into my bottom lip.

‘Well, let’s just see what Octavia has to say to that,’ responded the Leader in a harsh whisper. ‘They’re vermin, these Outsiders, genetic rubbish. An old one is worth less than the dirt beneath my shoe. And if he’s related to Thomas Hanway, Octavia will want to deal with him personally. Trust me.’

I strained my ears but their voices gradually faded until finally there was nothing but the terrific booming of the machinery. Carefully, I raised my head and peered over the hard, raised edge of the container. We were about three metres off the ground, and across the floor, several covered stretchers were being ferried into a large white hut. Suddenly, all the noise, alien surroundings, and fear receded. It didn’t matter. We’d made it inside against all the odds, and Grandpa and Eli were within running distance.

Rapidly, I gesticulated to Max.

‘We have to follow them,’ I ground out as we both watched the last stretcher being carried through the white doors. My skin prickled with fresh anger. Were any of them still alive? What did the Insiders want with them?

As the hut door closed a tall, tunic-clad woman shouted something numerical to the Leader. I noticed my assailant standing beside him, and scowled. We had to act.

‘Distraction!’ I urged, nodding my head in the direction of the hut, which appeared to be sitting on some sort of track. Max nodded once, his forest eyes narrowed and purposeful.

‘I’ll lead them off. You get yourself inside and see how bad …’ he paused, rephrasing ‘… what sort of shape they’re in.’

‘Brutus?’ I returned. I hadn’t seen the hound since we’d arrived but knew it couldn’t be far.

‘Leave him to me, just get yourself inside that hut!’ Max hissed before springing lightly over the side of the container. My courage deflated the moment he disappeared out of sight. I cursed under my breath. If Max hadn’t held me back I might not be here at all. I could be at home in Arafel with Grandpa and Eli. Or, you could be in the white hut with Grandpa and Eli. I strangled the thought instantly, and peered over the side to watch Max creep silently along the gully between the two vehicles.

His stealthy, fluid movement was as familiar as my own, although oddly out of place in these sterile surroundings. I studied the distance between my container and the medical hut. It had to be about ten metres at most. I’d covered twice that in a heartbeat when pitted against Max in the tree-running trials. But this was not the forest, and I would rather face the wildest tigers than these hostile people with their blue darts and laser sticks.

Max reached the end of the gully and looked back. He mouthed a few words before winking. His familiar smile crinkled up his forest eyes, and I felt myself thaw.

‘Why run when you can fly?’ I whispered to myself, repeating his words.

Instantly my centre of gravity plummeted. I wanted to call out, to tell him I understood why he’d protected me, to run and hug my brave friend fiercely, but I was too late. He was gone.

The shout went up immediately. Max pelted down the busy track, jumping and swinging from the vehicles and huge machinery as confidently as though he was at our weekly trials. A tiny swell of pride flushed through me. Even in this huge alien space with so much stacked against us, Max could change the odds. Curt commands filled the air and several bodysuited Insiders, including the Leader, gave immediate chase. They were all carrying the short cylindrical devices he’d used on Grandpa in the forest.

I closed my eyes briefly.

‘Keeping flying,’ I whispered, before swinging myself down onto the dusty floor. As I peered around the edge of the Sweeper vehicle, it seemed as if the whole world was now pursuing Max, who was racing nimbly down huge stacks of thick tree logs. Some were as high as the treehouses in Arafel, and the stark reality stirred something deep inside. The sight of so much of the forest trapped in this unnatural, light-starved place was a travesty; and something hot and feral poured through my poised limbs.

Gritting my teeth, I bolted from my hiding spot across to a smaller sized Sweeper positioned next to the white hut. From there, it was only a mater of waiting for my chance and slipping through the door. Within seconds I was inside, and blinking at the bright white sterile walls. I didn’t allow myself to look back.

Inside, the white hut appeared to be a series of small rooms permeated by a low hum. There was no one in the narrow corridor so I tiptoed across to the first door. It was ajar and I inched it open slowly with the edge of my toe, bracing myself for discovery. Instead, I found silence. I stared into the clinical room, lined with shelf after shelf of bizarre-looking medical equipment I’d never seen before. The shiny, sharp instruments, each one sealed in a transparent bag, sent shivers running down my spine. The thought that some Outsiders might have been subjected to tools such as these flickered through my mind. I ignored it. I needed to stay focused, and find a weapon.

Scanning the room, I spied what appeared to be individually sealed needles. They were a precious commodity in Arafel’s medical hut, and used only rarely. I crossed quickly to grab a handful, but movement high on the adjacent wall distracted my attention.

I gazed up at the row of small moving squares, six in total, each depicting a different view. It looked as though each picture showed a different room, which meant I could see exactly how many Insiders there were, including where they had put Grandpa and Eli. I’d read about such technology in Grandpa’s books, our forefathers had called it Television, or Closed-Circuit Television, but I’d never imagined it having such detailed capability.

Carefully, I scanned the pictures. The first two rooms were empty, much like the one I was standing in, although they also contained beds. The third screen was busy. There appeared to be two white uniformed Insiders moving around separate beds. My mouth went dry as I craned my neck to get a better view. Then I spotted Grandpa’s woollen trousers, just visible beneath one of the white sheets.

With a thumping heart, I stared intently at the screen. The Insider appeared to be attaching some wires to his body, before pressing buttons on a square machine above his head. I forced myself to exhale steadily, reassuring myself she wouldn’t be taking such an interest if he wasn’t alive.

Next to him, another equally tall Insider was wrapping a thick cloth around the second body’s arm. She paused to pass something to her colleague, and my stomach turned over when a lock of Eli’s sandy-brown hair became visible. They were so close, but were they alive? I couldn’t allow myself to think about that. I scanned the room rapidly, looking for something, anything, I could use as a weapon. Instead found myself lurching heavily against the wall – we were moving.

Cursing, I shot out an arm to steady myself. Then there was a strange hiss and the whole hut seemed to rise about a metre into the air. I ran to the small circular window and peered out at the ground. I blinked hard but the view remained the same – somehow we’d risen directly off the track and there was a new buzzing sound beneath us, as though the floor was growling. There was a brief lull, then the whole building started to vibrate. I gripped one of the shelves, which was rattling with equipment, and when I next looked outside, everything was a blur.

If I’d been told when lying in the forest yesterday, that within a matter of hours I would be chasing my family through the Lifedomes in a levitating medical hut, I would have thought it a bad joke at most. But nothing could have seemed less funny right now. I steadied myself on the clinical white units, and spied a row of small pull-out drawers.

I yanked one open, hoping to find a blade, but instead found hundreds of tiny bottles containing transparent liquid. Frustrated, I rummaged through for anything that might help. They were all labelled with strange, unpronounceable names. Ruth, the village healer, would have a field day. Finally, one of the smallest bottles caught my eye. I picked it up.

‘Barbiturate: Quinalbarbitone XXVI Sedative. Caution,’ I read under my breath.

The moment Eli crumpled to the forest floor flashed through my head, and my eyes narrowed vengefully.

‘Perfect,’ I muttered, grabbing a handful of the tiny bottles and stuffing them in my small leather rations bag.

Silently, I crept from the supplies room and down the corridor, trying to work out which door was hiding Grandpa and Eli. Then I heard the murmur of low voices straight ahead, behind a door standing slightly ajar. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck strained, and I gripped the newly exposed syringes so tightly it hurt, but I knew I had only one chance. I stole forward, holding my breath and willing the Insiders to stay in the room.

The murmuring continued and when I peered through the crack, both nurses were faced away from me, engrossed in their task of wiring Grandpa and Eli up to a macabre wall of bleeping, whirring machines.

A fresh tide of anger threatened to rise within me, and I fought to control it. Grandpa always said anger dulled the senses. Instead, I brought the first syringe up to my shoulder, as though it were a mini fishing spear, and took aim through the door crack. My palms were sweating but I knew my aim had to be faultless.

In a flash I was back home, on a tree-running trial. Max was just behind me and the sounds of the forest were all around. Squirrel monkeys chattered excitedly as I leaned in to the shot, and a hint of fragrant crab apple blossom steadied my breathing.

‘Four, five,’ I counted silently before releasing my first assault. The moment the needle found its target, I swiftly released the second. Both nurses yelped and turned to stare in surprise. The self-release spring on both needles had been a small challenge to fathom initially, but once loaded, seemed to work perfectly. I watched with vengeful satisfaction as they sank to the floor in a stupor.

‘I’m Tal,’ I offered icily as their eyes blurred and closed. Then it was just me and the machines. I rushed to the beds. Grandpa and Eli were pale but their chests were rising and falling normally.

I looked around at the bright, artificial lights blinking and dashing in sequence, and was momentarily overwhelmed. How was a girl from the forest meant to know how to manipulate all this technology? My hopes faltered. Then the image of Max’s figure flying down the holding bay flitted through my head, and I gritted my teeth. If Max could risk his life for his friends, then for the love of Arafel, I wasn’t going to be fazed by a few flashing boxes.

I ran my eyes over the equipment, and tried to make sense of it. Most seemed to be recording information via wires attached to their chests, but they were also both attached to two separate tubes at their wrists. One was feeding a blue liquid in, while the other was taking a dark red liquid out. My heart stopped for a nanosecond. Were they draining their blood?

Instinctively, I grabbed Grandpa’s arm and, with shaking hands, gave the red tube a delicate tug. There was a brief resistance, and then it slipped out noiselessly, and he moaned as I wrapped his forearm in the corner of his sheet to stem the blood. Then I turned to Eli, and performed the same careful manoeuvre. Casting my eyes around, I spied a pile of bandages and very quickly both were sporting crude tourniquets.

The blue tubes proved harder to remove as thick needles were embedded in their arms. Desperately, I felt for Eli’s small gutting knife, and felt a moment’s relief to find it still tied inside his cotton trousers. In a breath, I’d cut both lines, and the viscous blue was seeping out onto the floor under the table. I exhaled to steady my nerves and glanced back towards the window. We were still travelling at a breakneck speed.

‘They won’t wake for several minutes yet. The chemical they’ve been absorbing takes the body down to an abnormally low temperature so they can stay asleep without any long-term tissue damage.’

The low voice echoed oddly around the small room, and I froze. As my eyes shot to the open doorway, any new shred of hope I might have held disintegrated. Familiar, cold iris-blue eyes regarded me carefully. Their tall owner was still bodysuited, but his helmet was tucked under his right arm.

There was no mistaking it was the same Insider I’d encountered in the trees. Now that I could see him more clearly I realized he was younger than I’d thought, perhaps no more than a year or two older than Max, with swarthy olive skin, crow-black hair and a square, uncompromising jaw. I inhaled swiftly. Much to my annoyance, there was something oddly drawing about him.

‘One step closer and you’ll be joining your friends,’ I threatened, grabbing another tiny bottle from my leather pouch, and yanking a needle out of one of the slumped nurses.

‘Don’t be scared,’ he said in a hushed, reassuring voice.

He placed his helmet down on top of one of the units and held his hands up.

‘See, I’m not going to hurt you. I want to help.’

His voice was soothing, like the voice the healers used when someone was ill, but he was one of them; and he’d tied me up and let the Leader take my family. I eyed him with wild hostility.

‘Why?’ I growled.

He smiled a quick, measuring smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

‘Take a look around you. You’ve come into our alien world where everything is designed to be better, faster, and more intelligent than the outside; but who is lying on the floor at the mercy of a young Outsider with a rather good aim?’

His voice was soft, but his eyes were flint-cold. I gripped the syringe tightly.

‘In truth, I’m impressed. I underestimated you. It seems Pantheon may have neutered the strongest instinct of all. Survival.’

I felt like a laboratory specimen being dissected and stared at him with cold suspicion, waiting for the chance to stick the syringe in his neck.

‘You see, I have a theory that we’ve become victims of our own precise strategizing. Everything in here is so carefully designed that we are in danger of engineering out our own nature, of losing what makes us unique … our very humanity.’