Escape from Harrizel (48 page)

Glancing behind me, the Rogues retighten the
line with five less Clansmen as we shift our way to the center of
the knot, toward Sampson atop the great iridescent trunk. My heart,
only beating before, now threatens to rip through my chest, leaping
out and into the sea of people around me.

When we reach the center, Sampson’s hand
dips down. I merely rest my palm on his and in one quick,
effortless motion, he pulls me atop the trunk with him. All focus
is
really
set on me now, my heart skipping as I survey the
amount of eyes digging into me, wondering what information I have
for them.

Sampson lowers his head, indicating that I
have the floor. A hopeless whisper of
I can’t do this, I can’t
do this, I can’t do this
, threatens to stop me but I push on,
lead by the other part, the stronger part that reminds me they need
to know. All four hundred of them. If this is going to work—any of
it—it’s with them on our side. It’s with an army.

“I went out beyond the jungle. I was looking
for something, but not what I found. What I found was worse.
Terrible
. Something most of you won’t believe… and why would
you? I saw it and I
still
don’t believe it,” I take another
deep breath, glancing from face to face, wondering what they must
be thinking, wondering if to them,
I’m
the insane one.

“But you deserve to know the truth. The
pills? They’re not protecting you from berry juice poison,” I shake
my head, “there
is
no outbreak. They’re giving you pills to
wash your memory of people, people…” I inhale deeply, “they’re
experimenting on. People… I found out in the woods.”

Gasps and whispers erupt, buzzing through
the crowd, igniting it with panicked life again. The Rogues
instinctively raise their weapons, scanning for signs of a threat.
Have I said too much? The wrong thing? How can it be wrong if it’s
the truth?

“That’s why we are
here
,” I say, “to
expose the truth and if you want it, a chance to fight for your
freedom.”

“You’re lying!” one of the newest Arrivals—a
boy in his late teens— jumps up, every eye and gun immediately
redirected at him. “Where’s your proof?”

As quickly as their attention was stolen,
the audience is offered back to me, eager for an answer. How can I
prove this without their memories? I could bluff but it doesn’t
feel right offering up their pasts if I don’t have them yet. It
would be like jinxing ourselves.

“We can arrange trips out there, if that’s
what it takes.”

“Right!” he scoffs, the sound echoing off
the walls. “Lead us all out there and kill us ten at a time?”

“We could… kill you now,” I suggest,
conviction ringing in my tone. “If you prefer?”

Everyone stills. Maybe they weren’t
expecting this. I scan the crowd, finding a flabbergasted Walker
and just a few bodies over, a shaking Ansley holding herself in her
arms. Are they scared of me now? Is that what I’ve created? Good.
Maybe it’s best for them. Maybe they should be afraid.

“But I don’t want anyone else to die—seems
like a waste. Too many have gone already. Like Sampson said, we’re
not here to harm you. We’re here to
warn
you.”

“You see…” and Sampson takes the lead again,
resuming his confession, “there was no war. Not the war Beshib has
been telling you about, at least. Of course Earth has had her share
of battles but in this case, it’s not true. How do I know?” he
stops, inhaling deeply, “because the war that this is
really
about has nothing to do with you. It has to do with
my
people… the Dofinikes.”

Sampson’s human form evolves back to his
natural greenish-brown state, all towering eight feet of him. Gasps
break through the silence, a quick rush of whispers sweeping the
stunned crowd at the sight of the giant lizard man next to me.
After a few seconds, he changes back to his human form, a
collective wave of shock flowing through the crowd.

“I have lived among you in secret,” he goes
on, “a slave to my own kind. But I used to be free, a time, years
ago, when this fortress wasn’t used as an operations base, but as a
prison
—makes sense with your bunker sizes, no? Humans and
Dofinikes lived in peace together, here on Harrizel, out in the
jungle beyond the gate. But it all changed,” Sampson’s voice
hardens as he shakes his head, “when some Dofinikes—the
Vermix—wanted you gone. It was a… massacre,” he whispers, “leaving
almost
everyone dead…” he trails off, lost in his own
thoughts.

Despair seeps off him like a fragrance, a
thick coat of mist surrounding him wherever he goes. How have I
never noticed this before? The woeful story pouring from his
ancient, heartbroken eyes.

What happened to you, Sampson?

“Vermix,” he repeats, the heavy, hard word
breaking the silence. He keeps his tone void of the emotion he’s
trying not to advertise. “Dofinikes who seek all human death.
Reuzkimpart. Tetlak.
Beshib
. No matter what they’ve told
you, no matter how sweet their lies may sound, it is the same for
all of them—they’re here to see your end. For them, a good human is
a dead human.”

More gasps spill from the room, panic rising
again. The Rogues tighten their hold around the thicket of bodies
surrounding our trunk. But Sampson wastes no time.

“As for
us
,” he quiets the room with
his velvety voice again, “Arizals don’t believe in the unjust
killing of any creature. But to be a Dofinike and Arizal is
treacherous. Betrayal. So during the massacre all those years ago,
when they broke apart our lives…” his voice saddens a tint, “the
Vermix enslaved anyone who attempted to aid the humans, all
Arizals—
us
.

“I was sentenced here, to live among you, as
I’d done in my treachery. But
Clarence
…” he whispers his
name, “…Clarence can never get away from it—the horrors of his past
and what it meant to him personally. He must relive his original
error as eternal punishment—taking humans from their normal,
functional, everyday lives to live on Harrizel, for the use of the
Dofinikes’ will.

“There was no war,” Sampson shakes his head
again, repeating his essential message, “you were taken,
all
of you, from your lives. A few of you were lucky. A few Clarence
took because you had no other way out. He came upon you dying, or
very nearly dead and offered this,” Sampson gestures around, “as an
alternate
life. But that’s just a small few,” he takes
another breath, still ashamed to admit it. “Most of you were indeed
abducted.”

We have them.

The voice rings in my head, waking me to a
frequency I wasn’t aware existed. It’s not the same voice from
before, telling me to find Ellae, but a new one, female, both from
inside me and out, like a low buzzing in my brain.

Suddenly Sampson pulls me close to him, his
mouth at my ear.

“They’ve found the memories. I have to tend
to something quickly so please tell them. I shouldn’t be more than
a few seconds.” But before I have time to question, Sampson leaps
off the trunk and over the crowd with ease. He disappears into the
West Wall.

Everyone turns to me, expecting the next
part or at least, an explanation for Sampson’s abrupt
departure.

“I understand if you don’t believe me,
believe
us
. Seems pretty far-fetched after hearing the same
lie over and over. How can any other truth exist, right?” I start
pacing. “Most of you seem smart, able to form your own opinions…
We’ve told you our side, Beshib has told you his. Before we start
asking you to choose,” I stop, offering a shrug, “maybe you can
make a more informed decision… with your real memories?”

In a room so silent a pin drop could be
heard, whispers suddenly gush, a tidal wave breaking through a
dam.

“They’re here, on Harrizel. We’ve found them
and we’re willing to give them back to you. We
want
to.
But…” and now any fear of being up here has dissipated completely,
this is the point of no return, when we either win this war or lose
it. “We ask in return for finding them, for getting the truth and
delivering it to you, here tonight, that you join us in taking back
our lives. Our
freedom
. We can’t do this alone. We
need
your help. Now,” I take a step back, gulping in a new
breath of air, “who wants to know what really happened?”

Every hand springs in the air.

Sampson is back on the trunk at my side,
poised and calm as always, smiling out at the crowd.

“Very good. This is very good,” he says. “A
few points to address before we’ll be able to distribute the
memories,” and now his voice grows less optimistic. The same
despair has returned as he takes a heavy breath. It’s not defeated,
just concerned.

“Beshib will be out for nine more days, at
which time he will return with
more
Vermix. If we are
overrun, there will be no—I repeat
no
—chance of this ending
in our favor. Currently, we have control of the Castle and we have
to keep it that way. Tetlak, Norpe, Yerza, all the other guards and
the scientists are contained but we still must act fast. Your
memories will be returned and then groups can—if they choose—be
lead out to view the lost, if further proof is required. We must
use the remaining time to prepare for the Vermix return. If we
succeed in this,” Sampson inhales, the anticipation of his next
statement hanging, “we’ll be able to return you to your homes.”

“To your
lives
,” Clarence adds,
suddenly on my other side.

I gasp, just like the rest of the room and
nearly fall off the trunk at his appearance. He clutches my arm
before I go over and Sampson, ever so gently, cups my arm below
his, the two lowering me to the floor. Once the hard ground meets
my feet, I stumble for a second but Reid keeps me steady.

“I’m so, so terribly sorry,” Clarence shakes
his head, “I’m so sorry to have brought you all here, to have done
this to you but Sampson is right. If we win this thing, we’ll be
able to take you home,” a hesitation, “…
most
of you. If you
are one of the majority, which, ninety-five percent of you are,
there will be no issue in returning you home, to the exact moment I
left with you. The other five percent, however,” he clears his
throat, “the ones I happened across in a most dire state—had you
not returned with me, had I
left
you, your death would have
been imminent.” He surveys the room with low-lidded eyes, “Your
death
will
be imminent. It’s for this reason that we’re
unable to return you to that life. For you—this is the only one you
have left.” He waits a moment, turning to Sampson, “I thought a
word of caution best before promises are made.”

“I agree,” Sampson nods. “First things
first—your memories. Let’s do this as quickly and orderly as
possible.” He glances down at us, at Reid. “Let’s have them all
move up to the Courtyard. File them down ten by ten.”

Reid nods, weaving us back through the crowd
and to the outside ring of Rogues still holding their place. He
jumps to the nearest stairwell, leaping up a few steps.

“You heard him,” Reid commands, “up to the
Courtyard.”

A rampant tidal wave of bodies move in his
direction, but Reid holds his place, motioning everyone on as they
funnel past. Still poised and searching for targets, the Rogues
fall back just enough to allow passage of the herd. It moves along
quickly, but it still takes a few minutes for the room to clear
out. When it does, there are only a handful of us left, all the
Rogues having already ascended to the Courtyard for security. Only
the Rogue Commanders remain.

Reid is glancing between Sampson and
Clarence. “Ten at a time?”

“We’ll take five down and have the other
five waiting here,” Sampson shrugs, “best we can do.”

Vix emerges into the Auditorium, trailing
the first ten behind her. Stopping halfway into the room, she spins
to the last five. “Stay here. You,” she glances to the first half,
“come with me.”

They follow her directions, Vix motioning
for Clarence to follow her as she heads for one of the evibolas on
the opposite wall.

“I believe that’s my cue,” Clarence passes
me, following Vix and the first five to the evibola. Sampson offers
a departing nod as the others disappear.

I guess he’ll be the one to administer the
memories.

“Quite right,” Sampson agrees as Reid,
Tucker and the Rogue Commanders meander near the stairwell, losing
themselves in discussion of how to keep the Courtyard secure. With
a great sigh, Sampson speaks low, so only
I
can hear.

“When Vix didn’t locate the memories in the
first place she’d looked, Clarence sent word as to their location.
You see, I’d made mention of this base originally being utilized as
a prison. That is both the truth and a lie. We created this base as
a front for what we knew we’d one day need—an escape for the crimes
we were committing. Going against the prophecy and living with
humans, some even
mating
with them—the Leaders would take it
all away,” Sampson drifts into a distant thought, lost in some
sweet dream, “this little paradise we’d created, this island for
runaways, for those not wanting to be found… We figured if we built
the place we knew we’d be imprisoned, we could create escapes to
get back to our loved ones,” Sampson’s eyes wane for a minute, lost
in the same sadness.

“Clarence, however,” his face lights up,
“found special joy in creating hidden compartments here. Secret
vaults, closets—places he wouldn’t tell even
me
. I’d
supposed Beshib, being proud, might display the memories in his
quarters, a trophy to his life’s work. But… maybe he isn’t so proud
after all. Maybe he
is
a little scared. Why else would he
hide your memories beneath this very floor, in a vault that’s
nearly undetectable?”