Reaping (48 page)
Authors: K. Makansi
“Better hope it doesn’t start raining, then,” Miah says, a meager attempt at a joke. I glare at him, but he can’t see me in the dark.
We run in silence after that, jogging after Chan-Yu through the silent tunnels. I think of Soren, Vale, and even Linnea, hoping against hope they’ve escaped the Sector’s notice. We’re only underground for maybe ten minutes, though, before Chan-Yu points to a dead-end and a flood door.
“If it’s open, we exit there.”
I pray it’s open.
Chan-Yu cranks on the strangest opening mechanism I’ve ever seen in my life—a circular door handle, one that twists like an enormous knob as he turns it counterclockwise. I hear some enormous mechanism within the wall click and clank, promising sounds.
“When I open this door, they’ll be able to track us again if they’ve bugged us in any way. We have to move quickly.”
I nod, and Miah steels himself for the effort. Running isn’t his forte.
Chan-Yu pushes the door open with an enormous heave. We’re in another tunnel of some sort, but judging by how much fresher it smells on the other side, this one isn’t underground, or even inside. It smells like summer, and I realize we must have emerged outside.
“Where are we?” I ask, whispering.
“At the bottom of the hill by the park,” Chan-Yu responds. I take a moment to stare at him in silent admiration. He must have the entire city map memorized at all elevations. He’s brought us to within a kilometer of the rendezvous point by the river, where there’s supposed to be an emergency hovercar waiting for us. Just in case.
We emerge in a concrete tunnel built into a hill, which, sure enough, opens right by the park. The clean smell of cut grass in the early summer night fills me with memories, of the countless times I came to this park not as a renegade on the run from soldiers and Watchmen but as a teenager, spending time with my friends and thinking of nothing but how best to enjoy ourselves.
Crouching by the riverbank, we watch the hovercraft to see if Vale and the others will show up, knowing we can’t wait for long. They’ll find us, sooner or later, the drones or the soldiers or both. A light drizzle sets in, chilling my skin, somehow refreshing me. I close my eyes and let the rainwater drip down my face, wondering if we’ll survive tonight. If we’ll make it out of the city. If everything we’ve ever done has been in vain.
When I open my eyes, a flash of movement to my right jerks me back to readiness, Bolt up and ready to shoot. But the two figures approaching are wearing hooded, heat-cloaking gear just like us and not soldier’s uniforms. Abandoning caution, I stand up and watch them approach, jogging doggedly down the hill to where the hovercar is parked, one large figure, one smaller, female. Soren? Linnea?
But where’s Vale?
Sure enough, they come barreling down the hill and Soren pushes his hood off.
“In the car!” he shouts. “They’re hot on our tail!”
Without slowing, he hops over and into the open-top hovercar, and Linnea follows suit. Chan-Yu gets in as well, but Miah and I hesitate, glancing at each other. The sound of the river next to us grows to a swell inside my ears and when my voice emerges, it’s so quiet I can barely hear myself.
“Where’s Vale?”
“Get in the goddamn car, Remy!” Soren screams at me. I shake my head dully,
no, I won’t do that
.
“You left him, didn’t you?” I say. Miah looks at Soren for a half-second and I could swear there are sparks flying between them, the connection of an unspoken message they share.
Miah tackles me from the side. He’s huge, bigger than Vale, bigger than Eli, almost bigger than Soren, and the weight and size of his body is like being engulfed by a falling building. He grabs my arms and tries to throw me over his shoulder. For a second I don’t fight, not comprehending what’s happening or why. But then I realize:
We’re leaving without Vale
.
We’re abandoning him.
“NO!
”
I scream.
Miah slaps his hand over my mouth and throws me in the car, but I’m wriggling so frenetically that I don’t land where he wants me to. Instead, I slide off the side, and instantly I roll to the ground on the other side of the car and am sprinting through the grass, back up the hill. Back the way I came.
For a long time, I know nothing except that I must keep running. I don’t know where he is, I realize. What am I hoping to accomplish? I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t leave him here. I’ve lost too many people I love. My sister, my mother, Eli. I can’t lose him, too.
So I run. Time slows to a crawl. I run and I run. Back toward El Centro. Back through city blocks and down dark alleys. Soldiers. Running through the streets, just like me. But they don’t care about me, they can’t track me. They’re not looking for me. They’re looking for Vale. I follow them at a jog, keeping my distance, hoping they’ll lead me to him.
What are you going to do, Remy? How are you going to help him?
I round a corner, and then I see it. Him. At the top of a building, his back to me, to everything. His arms are spread, as if ready to fly off the building.
And then I see the unmistakable blue crackle of electricity hit him square in the chest, and as he falls, his foot goes out as if expecting to step onto an invisible platform. But there is none.
“VALE!”
Two of the soldiers ahead of me whirl at the sound of my voice.
Vale falls, his body limp, seemingly moving against the rules of gravity: drifting, rather than falling, towards the ground. Like a feather.
Two drones, bearing a mesh net between them, catch him at the absolute last second, right before he hits the ground. The fabric expands with his impact, but his body never touches the ground.
I watch, aghast, as the drones carry his limp, unconscious body down the streets and away from me.
One of the two soldiers opens his mouth as if to shout. I pull up my Bolt and shoot him. He collapses in a heap of crackling static. The one next to him raises his weapon to fire at me, and I would shoot him, too, but my weapon needs a second to charge, and I don’t have a second. I move. I duck behind a compost bin, then run into an alley, listening as shouts behind me indicate that there’s a team of soldiers hot on my tail.
Vale is gone.
I run.
~ End
o
f Book Two
of th
e Seeds Trilogy ~
Coming Next
The Harvest,
Book Three of the Seeds Trilogy, is coming Spring 2016. We invite you to connect with us on Twitter and Facebook to get the latest updates. If you enjoyed
The Sowin
g and
The Reapin
g we'd love to hear from you. You can leave a review on Goodreads, Amazon, or Barnes & Noble, or contact us directly online. You can find us at:
www.theseedstrilogy.com
www.facebook.com/TheSeedsTrilogy
Twitter:
@readwritenow - Kristy
@akmakansi - Amira
@Elena_Makansi - Elena
Acknowledgements
We’d like to thank everyone who has supported us by reading our drafts and giving us feedback, helping us understand the science we explore in the world of the Okarian Sector, contributing amazing original artwork (we're looking at you Kevin Weitzel and Elle Opitz), or just giving us an encouraging word. With three co-authors, we each have particular people we'd like to thank.
From Amira
—To the brilliant friends, talented authors, and wonderful people who answered science questions, critiqued the manuscript, and supported me along the way: Alexander Augustyn, Charles Ayling, Jonathan Paul, Daryl Rothman, Nillu Nasser Stelter, and Jessica West.
From Elena
—I want to thank my dearest friends who agreed to beta-read: Anjuli, Becky, Maggie, and Natali, y'all rock big time. A great big shout-out to my co-authors (and family) who encouraged me to continue working on
The Reapin
g despite the craziness of ending college and entering the “real world.” Many thanks to dad, I love you so much. Sun, moon, and stars: thank you for reminding me that the universe is vast and beautiful and endlessly inspiring.
From Krist
y—Thanks to my mother who believes I can do anything, to my sisters who believe in making every day better than the one before, to my husband who puts up with me, and to my daughters for believing in and exploring my dream, for bringing Remy and Vale (and the rest of the gang) to life, and for going along with me on the most gratifying adventure in
m
y life.
About the Author(s
)
K. Makansi is the pen name for the mother-daughter writing trio of:
Kristina Blank Makans
i
Born and raised in Southern Illinois, Kristina has a B.A. in Government from University of Texas at Austin and an M.A.T. from the College of New Jersey. She is co-founder and publisher of Blank Slate Press, an award-winning small press, and founder of Treehouse Author Services, an author services practice through which she provides editorial and design services for traditional and self-published authors. In addition to the Seeds Trilogy, she has published
Oracles of Delph
i, an historical mystery set in ancient Greece.
Amira K. Makansi
Amira is a historian, writer, poet, winemaker, and wanderer. After earning a bachelor's degree in History from the University of Chicago, she traveled across America and France to learn the trade of winemaking. While traveling, she found her passion for writing through her journal and her blog (The Z-Axis). She now blogs avidly about wine, food, photography, and, of course, words. When she's not writing, she can be found at Peachy Canyon winery on Calfironia's Central Coast, where she works as a laboratory technician.
Elena K. Makansi
Elena graduated from Oberlin College where she majored in Environmental Studies and concentrated on food justice and food system politics. She has won several writing and poetry awards and scholarships and was honored to attend the Iowa Young Writers' Studio and the Washington University Summer Writers Institute while in high school. She is an artist and photographer, avid walker, vegetarian and vegan cook, tennis player, and overall curious lady, Elena lives in the central coast region of California. Elena aspires to be a hobbit when she grows up. Visit her website at elenamakansi.com.
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