Green Jack (18 page)

“It’s secure,”
Jane whispered. “Maybe.”

They strapped
on their packs and Saffron tucked the stone lamp carefully in her
pocket. There were more torches at the base of the platform—she’d
just have to reach them before anyone else, if and when, it came
down to a fight. She had no daggers left, and Jane’s pristine
survival knife was too valuable to throw. They’d need it later.
Assuming there was a later.

Jane tossed the
honey liquor, splashing it down over gardens. Saffron threw the
torches, hoping the mead would fuel the fire. One of them went out
before it landed. Another fell and vanished through the cornstalks.
The others stayed lit, and the flames caught hot and hungry. With
any luck, the smoke would add another shield to their escape.

Saffron was the
first one down the pole. Using the paracord to keep from plummeting
before she could wrap herself around the pole was more frightening
than any Elysium City rope bridge. There was no slowing down, no
scrabbling for purchase. She hit the ground so suddenly she nearly
bit her tongue off. Jane landed right on top of her seconds
later.

Fire crackled
in the gullies, sending up plumes of orange light and smoke. The
guards had already rushed to help. Nothing was as important as
crops in a place like the Badlands. Anywhere, really. Someone hit a
drum—three hard beats. The alarm had sounded. The resulting chaos
would either save them or damn them further.

Burning green
stalks, silky corn tassels, tomatoes bursting; Saffron felt a
twinge of something remarkably like guilt. Annoyed, she snapped a
hasty bouquet of dandelions and thistles from her mask, dropping
them at the foot of the metal pole. It might help them grow back
what they lost tonight. If nothing else, it would grow better than
any other plant they had ever seen. They might even get sick of
eating dandelion leaf salads. She felt Jane watching her. “Shut
up,” she muttered.

The drum played
on but underneath it they could hear the panicked voices, the
splash of precious drinking water. Steam and smoke billowed like
breaths. No one had noticed the empty platform yet. The fire
consumed all, crops to common sense.

Saffron and
Jane made it to the outskirts of the village, the orange glow
flickering violently behind them. Jane was the first to hear the
growl. Saffron was too busy gloating in her head. Three coyotes
blocked their way. They were bigger than Saffron remembered,
reaching to her hipbones. Their growls traveled between them like a
cup passed around a feast table. She didn’t know what they were
saying. She didn’t have to.

“Don’t run,”
she said to Jane softly. “They’ll chase you.”

There was the
soft scuff of paws on the packed clay behind them. Saffron fumbled
for the lamp. One of the other coyotes yipped loudly, starting a
chain of response. The yips got louder, signalling to the village.
Jane jumped, startling the coyote behind them, already poised to
attack. He became a streak of light brown fur and glistening teeth.
Jane twisted away and nearly fell into a dark gully. She swung her
backpack in a wide arc but he was already on her. She gave a shout,
brief and broken with pain.

The other
coyotes sprang into motion. Saffron waved her torch to cut them
off. They flinched but they knew torches in the village and it
wouldn’t fend them off for very long. She stabbed it at the coyote
attacking Jane until his tail fur smoldered. He yelped and raced
away.

“Are you dead?”
Saffron tried to get a better look at Jane.

“Mostly alive,”
she replied, gasping for air. There was a tear in her pants, above
the knee. She pressed her hand to it, blood seeping through her
fingers. “Thank you.”

The growls of
the remaining coyote became agitated. And much closer. Their eyes
glinted. “Don’t thank me yet. We’re probably going to die horribly.
I just put it off a few minutes.”

“That’s what I
like about you. You’re so optimistic.”

Saffron
unstopped the lamp and filled her mouth with the oil. It was
viscous and thoroughly unpleasant. She forced back an involuntary
gag. She waited until Jane had scrambled to her feet before she
exhaled forcefully, spraying the oil. It hit the flame and kept
going, dragging fire. The flames shot towards the coyotes like a
red spear. They yipped, scrambling out of the way. Saffron kept the
exhale going until her cheeks tingled and her mouth was empty. The
pulse of afterlight slashed at the darkness. She spat, shuddering
at the lingering aftertaste.

The coyotes
raced away but she didn’t think they would stay away for long. She
kicked the empty lamp into the gully.

“Now we
run.”

Chapter
28

Jane

They walked for
six miserable days.

Jane mostly
limped, but it got the job done. Distracted by the fire, the Ferals
couldn’t spare anyone to follow, or if they did, they never caught
up. Saffron was good at covering their tracks until they came upon
an old road. The concrete fissured, black stagnant water gleaming
in the cracks. They found a stream and filled their water bags,
plopping in Jane’s purification tablets. They fizzed so violently
until Jane wondered if going thirsty was better. They ate squirrels
and dandelion roots. It was so hot her hair tangled with dried
salt.

The fields on
the other side of the Badlands stretched on forever. The bite on
her knee was healing, thanks to antibiotic ointment and some kind
of leaf Saffron pulled from her leaf mask. It still ached, the skin
pulling at the thick scab whenever she walked but it didn’t slow
her down anymore. “It can’t be far now.” It was much a plea as a
statement.

They talked
until they’d run out of things to say. It was obvious that Saffron
kept herself closed off from strangers but they weren’t strangers
anymore, and anyway, after the second day she was so bored she
started answering Jane’s questions. Jane knew about Killian and
Oona, about Argent and the underground markets. Even about
Saffron’s mother who had fancied herself a freedom fighter but had
died before she’d made much of a difference. She talked about the
leaf mask, but only in clipped uncomfortable tones and she never
took it out of her bag, even when green tendrils escaped to touch
her hair. Jane told her about her sisters, about her mother’s work
for the Directorate which she still knew virtually nothing about,
and how her mother had sold her to the Program. Saffron had the
same things to say about Asher that Kiri had said. It made Jane
miss her even more.

Jane felt the
thrum of the forest in her spine, just before they crested a hill
and everything was suddenly green. They exchanged a bright
triumphant grin before breaking into a run. Pain nibbled at her leg
but Jane didn’t care. They’d made it. They’d actually reached the
Spirit Forest.

A wide river
separated it from the fields. She remembered learning about the
various ways the Directorate protected everyone from the Greencoats
who lived inside.

Apparently
Saffron hadn’t heard the same stories.

She didn’t see
the dead horse that had stopped to drink now sprawled on the bank
further down. She stepped forward, her foot skimming the clear
water.

“Stop!”

Jane grabbed at
a fallen branch and hit Saffron across the chest, just as
electricity shivered on the surface of the water, arcing up towards
her. The wood grounded the current and broke the connection.
Saffron landed in the grass, her teeth chattering and the ends of
her braids singed. She lay shivering and twitching for a long
moment before lifting her head. “Why the hell do you keep saving my
life?”

“You’re
welcome.”

She sat up,
wincing. “What the jacking hell was that?”

“The
Directorate fills the river with electric eels,” Jane said.
“Everyone knows that.”

“Electric
eels?”

“It’s a
precaution. They can’t spare soldiers to patrol, and since they
don’t actually expect anyone to make it out of the City, they make
do.”

Saffron shook
her hands, as if they were tingling. “That was not fun. I hate
everything and everyone right now.” She glared at the knife-bright
water. “How do we get across? We don’t exactly have time to build a
bridge.”

The trees were
thick and tangled on the other side, but still out of reach. Vines
dangled, temptingly close. Jane remembered hanging from the dryad
tree. “I might be able to reach that.”

Saffron
followed her gaze dubiously. “Because Enclave girls can fly
now?”

“No, but I can
run.” And if she ran fast enough, there was a chance.

There was also
a chance she’d land in the water and be electrocuted.

She backed up,
reminding herself that running was the one thing she could actually
do really well. She pumped her legs hard, pushing off the ground
with each step. She gave into the momentum, sprinting faster and
faster until she had no other choice but to jump.

She grabbed at
the vines desperately. They slipped through her damp fingers until
she finally got a proper hold. The shadow of eels swan beneath her.
She inched back up, until she could stretch out enough to grab
another one. She swung gently, praying desperately that she wasn’t
about to plummet. The water shivered. She threw the other vine as
hard as she could and Saffron leapt to grasp it, screaming as she
jumped over the water. The vines wrapped around each other, bumping
them together.

Saffron exhaled
sharply. “I had no idea they bred them so crazy in the
Enclave.”

“We should be
able to swing just a little and jump to the other side.” The vine
tore a little, dropping her abruptly a foot closer to the water.
Jane dangled, her shoulders popping as they held her weight. There
was a buzz, like enormous insect wings.

“Shit, I know
that sound,” Saffron hissed, freezing. “Drone cameras. They send
them into the Core sometimes.”

Jane finally
located the sound of the buzzing. A black drone camera hovered like
a metal bird along the river, surveying the area. Everything it saw
was transmitted directly to the nearest Protectorate outpost. “What
do we do?” she whispered.

“Don’t move?”
Saffron suggested.

The vines
creaked warningly. Jane’s fingers were damp with sweat, cramping
tightly. The drone passed beneath them, close enough that she could
see the machinery whirling inside. She dropped another inch. The
vine was going to snap. “Hold on,” Saffron muttered. “Don’t you
dare fall. We have an alliance, remember?”

Jane’s palms
chaffed raw, prickling and stinging. She swung lightly as the drone
flew away. She couldn’t wait any longer. The tree creaked, twigs
branching. Saffron kicked her feet, launching herself at Jane.

The vines
snapped.

Chapter
29

Saffron

Saffron was
never so glad to touch the earth.

Until it turned
into a weapon too.

Birch trees
shot up like spears. Branches scraped at them, knotting together to
stop their escape. Saffron turned sideways, her pack catching.
Twigs pulled savagely at her hair. The trees kept growing, faster
and thicker, pressing into them until it was hard to breathe.

“Leaf mask,”
Jane squeaked.

Saffron glared
at her between yellow leaves. “I knew you were after the jacking
mask.”

“Yes, being
crushed by birch trees was my cunning plan,” Jane snapped between
wheezes of breath. Her throat was bloody with scratches. “Put it
on! This is the Spirit forest, isn’t it? Home of the Green Jacks?
And numen responds to numen.”

She twisted,
narrowly dodging a branch before it could poke her eye out. “I
can’t reach it.”

Jane stretched,
grunting with the effort. The trees were like swords slicing at
them, like the bars of a cage. She contorted, just reaching
Saffron’s pack. It was limp, too long denied a host. And it was in
someone else’s hand. Saffron froze.

Jane gave it to
her without a word.

Saffron lifted
it to her face. Burrs and thistles snagged onto her hair. Her face
tingled all the way up into her scalp. Green sparks exploded behind
her eyelids, anise on her tongue. It wasn’t painful exactly, but it
wasn’t pleasant either. She pulled the tobacco Oona had given her
out of her pocket and dumped it on the ground. “Hello, please and
thank you.” As a ritual it left something to be desired.

Still, the
birch trees shrank into themselves. They left a narrow path,
leading deeper into the forest. Saffron pushed the mask up over her
hair, already feeling suffocated. She decided to ignore the fact
that her hands were trembling.

The forest went
on forever. She’d never seen so many different shades of green,
even with all of the trees in Elysium City. It was just as crowded
as the jostle of skyscrapers and bridges but it was a crowded
silence. The air tasted different. But the leaves all looked the
same. “Now what?

Jane squinted
into the scrubby undergrowth. “That way.”

Saffron
frowned. “Why?”

“Look at the
grass there, and the way the ivy is growing mostly over your right
shoulder.”

“So? It could
be a coincidence.”

“There’s no
such thing as coincidence. At least not at the Collegium.” Jane
replied. “I’m trained to notice and interpret patterns and this is
a pattern.”

“Fine,” Saffron
grumbled. She didn’t know why she was arguing. She’d been scared to
never reach the forest and now she found she was just as scared to
enter it. She never dealt well with fear. It couldn’t be stabbed or
sold in underground markets. What was it even good for?