Taken (16 page)

The man pauses dramatically and looks over his team. I follow his gaze and recognize Septum and Craw in the firelight. They look nervous. This must be what they’d consider their first big mission.

“Mount Martyr is our final destination,” the man continues. “We suspect it, or at least one of the neighboring mountain ranges, to not only be the location of Maldoon but his headquarters for the entire Rebel movement. Do not underestimate this man. He is ruthless and far more cunning than he appears. Our mission is to bring him back to Taem.
Alive
. It is crucial that he is brought back in one piece.”

I picture Harvey, his frail frame and dark eyes. I can see his piercing gaze as clearly as if he stood before me. I have to tail this group. Or get to Harvey first. I need to get answers from him before Frank does.

The man folds his arms over the red triangle on his chest and continues. “Tomorrow morning, we start a trek that will take us to the base of Mount Martyr, and from there, the retrieval of Maldoon begins. Follow orders, and I am confident this operation will be a success.”

The man then points to a few individuals, and asks them to join him in his tent. I adjust the pack on my back, ready to retreat and set up camp from a safe distance when a twig snaps behind me.

I spin to face nothing but dark shadows and silhouetted trees.

Another snap.

This time I see the figure: tall, dark, pointing a gun at me. It is a smaller model, like the one Frank had. “Stay right there,” he orders, walking into the extended glow of firelight. It’s Blaine. He drops the weapon to his side as soon as he recognizes me.

“Gray! What are you doing here?” he whispers.

“What are
you
doing here?”

“I’m on this mission. First big one and a chance to catch Harvey, no less,” he says proudly.

This is better than I could have planned it. I can fill Blaine in, tell him about Frank. I can get him to help me capture Harvey before the Order does. My chances for success have always been slim, but with Blaine, I feel more sure.

Before I am able to get out another word, a figure is approaching us.

“Blaine? Your watch is up. I came to relieve—” The man sees me and freezes. “What the devil? Where did he come from?”

“It’s okay, Liam,” Blaine says. “This is my brother, Gray.”

Liam eyes me suspiciously. “How did he get here?”

“He . . .” Blaine pauses and looks at me, puzzled. “How
did
you get here?”

This is clearly the wrong thing to say, because Liam draws his gun and points it at us both. “Toward camp,” he orders, motioning with the weapon. “Right now.”

Blaine raises his hands. “Liam, this is my brother, not the enemy.”

“I don’t care. He shows up snooping around in the woods and he isn’t on the mission list. Move toward camp.”

As we near the campfire, the other Order members stare.

“Evan?” Liam calls out. The bald leader reappears from a tent, and I remember. Evan was the man Frank talked to that day outside the dining hall, the person tasked with readying a team to retrieve Harvey. “Found this kid spying on us in the woods,” Liam continues. “Blaine says his name is Gray. They’re brothers.”

Blaine tries to say something, mumbling in my defense, but Evan raises a hand and silences him. Someone brings Evan a handheld device that looks a lot like the one Marco had used in the Outer Ring.

“I’ve got a Gray Weathersby here,” he says into it. “I don’t know how he arrived, but he is wearing an Order uniform and has a supply pack. We found him on the outskirts of our camp. Orders?”

The unit breathes static, overriding a voice, muffled and choppy.

“Say again?” Evan shakes the device, but the vocals don’t clear. He curses, tries to make contact again, and eventually gives up. “Those things never have the range we need. Bring him here.”

Liam pushes me forward and doesn’t let up until I am standing so close to Evan that I can see the firelight glistening off his smooth scalp.

“What are you doing out here alone?” he asks.

“Individual mission,” I say hurriedly.

“That so? Funny, I wasn’t aware of anything else happening this week, not with the mission my team is about to conduct. You got papers?”

“Yes.” This is not going to end well.

“Let’s see them.” Evan snaps and points at my pack, which Liam starts rifling through. He doesn’t even bother to take it off my back and I am jostled left and right as he digs.

“Sir,” he says. “There are no papers. And this pack . . . it’s not a standard mission pack. It’s for deliveries. Enough supplies for two days, tops.”

Evan pulls at my bag, takes one look at its contents, and then shoves me. “On your knees.”

“Wait. What are you doing?” Blaine asks, his voice uneven.

“His bag belongs to the supply team that is supposed to be here in the morning to restock us. He’s lying.”

Evan draws a gun from his hip and Blaine flinches. “Put it away,” he says. “If he’s lying, I’m sure there’s a reason.”

“And whatever it is, it won’t be good enough.”

Liam forces me to my knees.

All that running for nothing. I should have ignored the voices and made camp back in the trees. Blaine is saying something to Evan, frantically pleading, but the man has made up his mind. I catch Craw on the other side of the flames. He grimaces.

I hear Evan move behind me, feel the weapon press against the back of my shaved head. It is cold. I’m thinking of Emma and Claysoot and unanswered questions and if it will hurt when I realize it has grown quiet; too quiet. The rustling of animals in the woods is gone. Not even the wind makes a noise.

And then I hear it, the gentle whiz of a projectile through air. It is followed by a soft thud. Evan coughs and falls onto me. I shove him off and find an arrow in his chest, red blossoming over his shirt.

“Rebels!” Liam yells. “We’re being attacked!”

The arrows come in a steady stream, piercing their way through the darkness. Some are on fire and send tents ablaze when they connect with canvas. I cover my head with my hands and scramble to my feet.

Blaine grabs my arm and tugs. He’s pulling me from the madness when an arrow grazes his arm. He stumbles. I turn in time to see a second arrow burrow into his leg. He falls instantly.

“Blaine!”

I bend to examine him on the ground, barely dodging another arrow that whizzes overhead. Blaine is clutching his thigh. Already there is a lot of blood and I can’t see the wound.

“Is it bad?” he asks, coughing.

“You’re fine,” I say, even though I’m certain he’s not. “Come on, we have to move.” I sling Blaine’s arm behind my neck. He is heavy, but in the moment, my legs don’t seem to care. I run away from the fire pit, supporting Blaine’s weight as best I can. Gunfire breaks out behind us, our attackers now shooting both arrows and bullets.

The camp is in absolute chaos. Order members drop sporadically while the attackers stay hidden in the evening shadows.

“Fire at will!” someone shouts. Bullets race in both directions. How the Order is not shooting their own kind, I am not sure.

“Fall back,” another voice demands. “Fall back now!”

I duck behind the nearest boulder. Craw, too, is using the rock as shelter. “What happened?” he shouts over the gunfire, eyeing Blaine.

“An arrow. It hit him.” My ears ring from the shooting.

“He’ll be okay,” Craw says, reloading his gun.

“I don’t know.” I watch him ready the weapon. He slams ammunition in place and then leans back over the rock, spraying bullets into the darkness. A series of arrows comes back at us, forcing us to flatten our bellies to the ground.

Craw looks at me desperately, and then Blaine. “I can’t hold them off much longer,” he admits. “You should go. Now.”

Bullets come flying at the rock. I’m struck with the realization that this might be it, that I might not make it beyond tonight or back to Taem and I never got to tell Emma how I really felt. She seems so distant suddenly. Irretrievable.

“If you make it back to Taem, tell Emma I’ll come back for her. And that I love her. Can you tell her that?”

If Craw is surprised at that word, he doesn’t show it. He gives a nod, one quick jerk of his chin, and then leans back over the rock. He points his weapon into the darkness and speaks without looking at me. “Go. Now,” he orders. “I’ll cover you.”

I shift Blaine so that my arms are better locked beneath his shoulders, and as Craw opens fire, I run.

TWENTY

I SPEND THE NIGHT IN
a dark cave nestled among a small rise. I build a fire and tend to Blaine as best I can. Fearful of being unable to control the bleeding, I don’t pull out the arrow. Instead, I break it off low to the wound. He winces. I use most of the water left in my canteen to clear away the blood. He snarls. I wrap bandages from my pack around the remainder of the shaft and they quickly turn crimson.

“I’ll be okay,” he says over and over and over. I nod.

I had been running to the Rebels, and they’d shot my brother. I watch his chest rise and fall in unsteady waves. I already lost Blaine once. I can’t lose him again.

In the morning, Blaine is weaker. We follow our footprints back to camp with him slumped against my shoulder. There is nothing left of the mission team but a mess of canvas and ash barely visible through a thick fog. The fire pit is run over, and most of the tents lay trampled in the dirt, smoldering. I salvage one and create a giant sling that I can rest Blaine in and drag behind me. I’m furious with the Rebels for what has happened to Blaine, but I would be foolish to not continue my trek there. I need Harvey and there is nothing but an execution waiting for me in Taem. Plus, Blaine requires medical attention. Badly.

I count seven dead bodies among the wrecked camp. I feel like I should bury them, but don’t have the time. Instead, I pile the remains atop a still smoking tent and light them on fire. A team of black crows, annoyed that I have stolen their breakfast, lurk overhead as we leave the camp. They follow us for most of the morning, flying in low circles and cawing eerily as the fog dissipates.

I head north, counting fifteen dead Order members over the course of the day. More than half of Evan’s mission team has been lost. The little water I have left goes to Blaine, and I have to hold his mouth open and force the liquid down his throat.

That night I catch a rabbit for dinner. I try to feed Blaine, but he can’t stomach the meat. I run out of water the following morning and am forced to sip dew from cupped leaves in a futile attempt to quench my thirst.

I continue this trend daily. I drag Blaine behind me. We eat what I can kill. I try to keep us hydrated. Blaine has been fading in and out of consciousness for the better part of a day when I begin to lose faith. The thirst is getting to me. Sometimes I’ll see a Rebel ahead or Craw, and then I blink and nothing is there. I keep heading north but cover less ground with each passing hour. Night and day become one and the same. North and south blend. I could be dragging Blaine in wide circles and I wouldn’t know the difference. My head hurts and my throat burns so intensely I’m afraid it may catch fire.

Maybe I will never find water. Frank said it was scarce, a rare and coveted resource. What if this forest has already been stripped dry? What if its rivers are dammed, and its lakes pumped, and I find nothing but empty reservoirs?

On the third day without water, I stumble upon a stagnant pond of filthy green slime. I drop to my knees in front of it. This? After all my searching? It’s too still, completely undrinkable. I pull Blaine’s body toward mine and hold his head in my lap. His lips are split and dry, his eyes struggling to stay open. I watch his chest heave, his breathing pattern erratic. I’ve failed the people I love. First Emma. Now Blaine.

And then I hear something: a soft, delicate flutter. My heart flips over. I strain and listen harder. It sounds like the trickle of a stream.

I follow the noise and discover that the green pond is being filled by the tiniest beads of water dripping down a rock face at its rear. There’s a very small opening in the stone, but I can see light on the other side. The sound, too, is coming from behind it.

“Blaine,” I say. “Get up. You have to walk.”

He mumbles something incoherent.

“There’s water,” I explain. I want to tell him that I only need him to do this one thing and then I’ll carry him again, but forming the words requires too much effort.

Blaine grunts as I pull him to his feet. Dirt and sweat cover his forehead.

“Through here,” I say, pointing at the gap in the rock. He grimaces as we move forward, limping to keep weight off his bad leg. “Can you do it?”

He coughs, but nods. I let go of him. He clenches his eyes shut, blinks several times, nods again. As soon as I turn my back on him, Blaine falls. The sound of him hitting the ground is sickening: a solid, dull crack.

He’s fainted, his head striking a rock in the process. I drop beside him. “Blaine?” He doesn’t answer. I lift his head and my fingers grow sticky with blood. “Blaine!”

Nothing.

“You can’t do this! Not now. Not when we finally found it.” I shake him, curse him, yell his name, but he doesn’t respond. I press my ear to his chest and when I hear his heartbeat, I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. I fish a bandage from my bag and dress his wound, my hands shaking the entire time.

I look back at the rock face. We still need water. I’ll have to go in alone, gather as much as possible. I take one last look at Blaine, and then force myself through the passageway. It is a tight squeeze and my fatigued state slows me significantly, but by the time I have scrambled through the gap, I am crying out with joy.

Steep stone encloses me from all angles. From one of the highest peaks comes water, tumbling down in a magnificent spout and filling a freshwater pool at my feet. Water from this pool drips ever so slowly through the path I have just taken, but rushes out an opposite end of the enclosed area into what must be an impressive river.

I don’t stop to explore the workings of the water’s natural course. Instead, I whisper my thanks that the Order has not discovered this resource and race into the shallow pool. I splash it on my face and drink anxiously. My arms feel heavy, the weight of bringing them to my mouth nearly unbearable, but the water tastes so good. The sound of the cascading falls is heavenly, the kick of the cool liquid in my stomach unreal. For the first time in days, I am hopeful.