Crisped + Sere (Immemorial Year Book 2) (45 page)

prime directive

SPRING WAS
approaching.

He could see it in the way the storms came, wetter and warmer, the snow thick and heavy.

He felt as if he hadn’t seen the green of the trees in years. He missed it.

He thought maybe he would cut down
her
tree, just to see it done.

But he could decide that later. He had to focus now.

Cavalo stopped in the trees, listening. At first there was nothing but the clump of snow falling from branches, the birds calling.

It was perfect.

He gave a sharp whistle, a single blast, signaling his friends.

He knew they were moving, and moving fast.

He drew the arrow back on the bowstring. His wrist twinged, but it was negligible these days. It could be stiff in the mornings, as was his shoulder, but Cavalo knew that was his age too. It wouldn’t get any better.

He saw them coming from his perch in the trees. Lucas from the north, Bad Dog from the east, both heading toward him.

Ahead of them ran a deer. A buck from the looks of it, young and fast. Four, maybe five-pointer. Fat, fatter than it had any right to be this time of year. Especially in this place.

He waited until it was ten yards away. He breathed out slowly and let the arrow fly.

It slammed into the buck’s neck, a true hit. The animal cried out, a high, fractured sound. It stumbled forward, blood splashing against the snow as it fell chest first onto the ground.

Cavalo shot another arrow.

Then another.

The animal kicked and tried to get up.

Bad Dog was there, teeth bared and snarling.

Before the buck could find its footing, Lucas appeared at its side and slit its throat.

Blood sprayed, a flash of color in the winter woods.

Lucas grinned up at him as the buck died, eyes narrowed slightly. He wasn’t wearing his mask. He hadn’t done so since they’d returned from Dworshak.

You gonna stay up there all day?
he asked.
It’s going to be dark soon
.

Blood
, Bad Dog said, sounding like he was in a dream.
There’s so much blood
.

And yeah, Cavalo thought maybe he could breathe.

BAD DOG
sat in the office, looking at a wall next to the monitors.

“What are you doing?” Cavalo asked.

It’s like he’s still here
, Bad Dog said.

Cavalo looked away, and the bees crawled inside him.

HE WALKED
through the tunnels toward the barracks.

For a moment he thought he saw Mr. Fluff on the stairs.

It turned out to be just a trick of the light.

“COULD USE
your help,” Hank said. “Trying to salvage as much as we can from Grangeville before the caravans come again. “See if there’s anything to scavenge. To trade.”

“Yeah,” Cavalo said. “Okay.”

There turned out to be many things to scavenge, even though Grangeville was haunted with the stink of death.

HE FUCKED
up into Lucas, holding him from behind, Lucas’s back against Cavalo’s chest. Lucas rested his head on Cavalo’s shoulder, mouth open and eyes hooded. Cavalo bit down into his neck with blunt teeth, marking but not breaking the skin as he came.

LUCAS SLEPT
with the knife pressed against Cavalo’s stomach later that night.

THE NEXT
night, the knife was stored away, and Lucas slept deeply.

BAD DOG
stared at the wall in the office.

Cavalo left him alone.

“DO YOU
think they’ll come back?” Cavalo asked as they walked to the old fire lookout.

Lucas didn’t say anything for a long time. Then,
No. I don’t know. Someone will come. They always do
.

THAT NIGHT
in the lookout, Cavalo held Bad Dog in his arms and told him the story of finding a puppy in a sack and how a dog found his home.

CAVALO STOOD
outside the prison late into the night, looking up at the sky.

There was a break in the clouds, and Cavalo saw stars.

His hands shook.

SOMETIMES
, BAD
Dog said,
I think I hear him. SIRS
.
What if he’s a ghost?

“Ghosts aren’t real,” Cavalo said.

He felt like a liar.

HE ISN’T
who you think he is
, Jamie had said.

Cavalo still didn’t know who he’d meant.

He didn’t know that it mattered anymore.

HE FOUND
a purple flower, curling out from the melting snow.

He stared at it for hours.

BILL SAID,
“I figure if we can map what’s on his skin, we can try and finish it.”

“Will it work?” Alma asked from a place in front of Hank’s fireplace.

Bill shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not a physicist. Or an engineer.”

“He’ll have books,” Hank said. “We’ll find something. Patrick had to have gotten it from somewhere.”

“It’s a start,” Cavalo said.

“We finished?” Bill asked. Without waiting for a response, he walked out of Hank’s house and didn’t look back.

“He’ll come around,” Hank said quietly.

“Yeah,” Cavalo said, glancing at Lucas. “I don’t think he will.”

“DID HE?”
Cavalo asked as they walked back to the prison.

Did he what?
Lucas said.

“Get it from somewhere.”

Lucas shrugged.
I don’t know
.
He never told me anything.

Cavalo believed him.

Mostly.

BAD DOG
whined once as he stared at the wall in the office. Then he was quiet.

THEY CAME
across a Dead Rabbit in the woods.

He looked as if he were starving. His eyes were leaking blood.

He saw Lucas and said, “
You
.”

He had a knife thrown into his chest before he could take another step toward them.

The bees laughed and laughed.

The three of them waited, but it seemed as if the Dead Rabbit had been alone.

They left his body where it had fallen. Something would scavenge it. Eventually.

BAD DOG
stood up and scratched at the wall.

Cavalo looked away from the monitor. “What are you doing?” he asked with a frown.

I
hear
him
, Bad Dog panted.
MasterBossLord,
I
hear
him.
He’s here. He’s here. He’s here
.

“Who?” Cavalo asked, skin chilled.

He’s here. He’s here. He’s here.

Cavalo stood, looking at the wall. It looked strong and solid, no real breaks in the concrete that he could see. He rubbed his hands along its surface, pushing against it a little. There was no give.

He pressed his forehead against the wall and sighed. He shook his head, nose brushing against the concrete. “Bad Dog, there’s nothing here. There’s nothing—”

Something.

He’d opened his eyes while shaking his head. Something pulsed once, quietly, off to the right.

Behind the monitors hanging from the wall. Behind the one at the end, specifically. Hidden away behind a screen that hadn’t worked since Cavalo had been here. The only one that hadn’t worked since Cavalo had been here.

The hairs on the back of Cavalo’s neck stood up.

He said, “Oh.”

Check the room
, SIRS had said before he’d died.
Behind the watchful eyes….

“What did you do?” Cavalo whispered.

He tore the monitor off the wall. Ignored it when it cracked as it hit the ground.

A panel. One of SIRS’s. Like the others spread out amongst the prison.

It pulsed again, low and warm.

Cavalo touched it with his hand, as he’d seen SIRS do time and time again.

At first nothing happened.

Then words appeared on the panel.

WELCOME TO THE NORTH IDAHO CORRECTIONAL INSTITUTION

VER. 2.6241

(C) Copyright BOATK Corp. 1982, 2016.

PLEASE ENTER YOUR PASSWORD

IF YOU DO NOT HAVE A PASSWORD, THEN ASK YOURSELF ONE QUESTION

SHOULD YOU TRULY BE HERE?

The words disappeared.

The panel went dark.

And then the alphabet appeared. And numbers. And symbols.

Cavalo felt dizzy.

He typed in SIRS.

INCORRECT

He typed in BADDOG.

INCORRECT

CAVALO

INCORRECT

JAMESCAVALO

INCORRECT

LUCAS

INCORRECT

Think, Cavalo.

Check the room
, SIRS whispered through the bees.
It’s behind the watchful eyes because the boy of wood has led you there.

It couldn’t be that easy.

Cavalo’s fingers shook as he typed in another word.

PINOCCHIO

PASSWORD ACCEPTED

THANK YOU AND HAVE A NICE DAY

The panel went dark.

Nothing happened.

Well?
Bad Dog asked.

“What the hell,” Cavalo muttered. “I don’t—”

The sound of a great machine rose then, gears shifting and grinding. The panel lit up briefly, flashing red before it fell dark again. Cavalo took a step back, reaching down to pull Bad Dog with him.

Then the wall shifted. The entire wall. It moved
inward
, dust pouring down, a wave of stale air washing over them. The wall moved in three feet and stopped. It shuddered and the gears shifted again, the wall sliding to the right and disappearing.

Lights flickered on to reveal stairs.

Leading down.

Bad Dog whined and struggled against Cavalo’s hold on him.

“Wait,” Cavalo said. “
Wait
.”

He heard footsteps running up from behind them. He tensed but only briefly. He was getting better at that.

He felt a hand at the back of his neck, fingers squeezing dangerously. He looked up, Lucas standing above them, eyes narrowed and untrusting as he stared at the open doorway.
What the hell is that?
he asked, gesturing toward the stairs.

“I don’t know,” Cavalo said. “But SIRS did.”

Bad Dog tried to pull away again, but Cavalo tightened his grip. “What is it?” he asked quietly.

Tin Man
, Bad Dog panted.
It’s Tin Man. Tin Man. Tin Man.

“Hold him,” Cavalo said. “Don’t let him go until you hear me say so.”

MasterBossLord, let me
go
!

Maybe we should wait
, Lucas said, but he reached down and took hold of Bad Dog.

I will
bite
you
, Bad Dog grumbled, lip curling over his teeth.

“If you bite, I’ll make sure the jerky disappears forever,” Cavalo said, and Bad Dog ceased to struggle, turning big eyes on Cavalo as his ears drooped.

Forever?

“Forever,” Cavalo said.

Fine. Stupid MasterBossLord and his stupid rules and stupid face
.

“Yeah,” Cavalo said. “Stay here until I say.”

He moved toward the stairs.

Lucas gripped his hand, keeping his other arm around Bad Dog.
Just… kill first, ask questions later
, he said.
Don’t be stupid.

He reached down and pulled Lucas’s knife out of its scabbard on his side.

“Kill first,” he said, because that was their life.

When he reached the top of the stairs, the lights inside flickering on and off, he expected to look down and see Mr. Fluff waiting for him at the bottom.

He didn’t know what it meant that the stuffed rabbit wasn’t there.

The steps were cement. There was no handrail. The lights above were small and circular, spaced out every few feet. He heard them buzzing as they went off and on, off and on.

He looked back at Lucas and Bad Dog. He nodded at them and descended the stairs.

It was cold in the stairway. He tried to think back if he’d ever seen anything like this, any hint that this place existed, and he couldn’t remember any part of it.

SIRS had kept this from him. That rankled, and he didn’t know why.

There were twenty-six steps, and it was dark at the bottom.

His breath sounded loud in his ears.

His grip tightened on the knife.

He said, “Hello.”

Everything snapped on at once.

Lights and machines and everything whirred and ground together, panels flashing, metal screeching. Lights overhead shone down, and he spun around in circles, holding the knife defensively, ready to sink it into the flesh of whatever was coming after him.

There was nobody there.

“I’m—” His voice came out in a croak. He stopped. Shook his head. Cleared his throat. Tried again. “I’m okay,” he said as loud as he could. “I’m okay. Everything is fine.” He hoped they could hear him. He hoped they could believe him.

He hoped, because he wasn’t sure if he
was
okay. He didn’t understand what he was seeing.

Off to the left, there was a large room through a glass doorway. Inside, he could see the outlines of guns. Rifles. Weapons he’d never seen before. The far wall in the room was empty, save for a small row of familiar landmines resting on metal hooks.

To the right stood another room, much larger than the other. In this one stood big square machines lined up in a row, lights on the front blinking rapidly. On the wall hung a banner, the edges frayed and faded. On this banner was a seal with an eagle in the middle, a flag of red, white, and blue on its chest. In one set of talons, it held a group of arrows. In the other, a green stem with leaves.