The Prey (2 page)

But I do not share in their joy. Because every gained inch away from the hunters is another inch widening the chasm between Ashley June and me.

She has come to me in these last few days, unannounced through the most random of objects: the shape of the clouds, the silhouette of the ever-nearing eastern mountains. Every second that passes, every ripple of water left in our wake, and I feel the noose around her neck pulled tighter. Guilt pricks me. She is alone in the Heper Institute after sacrificing herself for me. Holding out for me, for a rescue I was unable to execute. By now she must know I am not returning. That I have failed her.

The boys are shouting, giddiness wrapped around their words, shiny and glossy. They are yelling about the Scientist, about the Promised Land.

The sound of footsteps running on the floorboards. It’s Ben.

“Come join us on the deck, Gene!” he says, a bright smile on his face. “It’s so much warmer in the sunshine than in the cabin.”

I tell him I need to stay out of the sun.

“C’mon, c’mon,” he says, pulling on my arms.

But I snap them back. “I can’t. I’m not used to the sun. My skin is burning up as it is. I’m not darkened like you hep—” And I’m only just able to stop myself.

His face falls. Then he slips away, into the bright glare of sunlight, leaving me alone in the cold shade of the damp cabin.

Over the next hour, sun columns pierce through the clouds. The land opens itself up, its soaked colors bleeding into the terrain. The verdant green of the meadows, the deep blue hue of the river. All afternoon, I hear their voices slipping through cracks in the cabin walls. Even in the close proximity of the boat, they feel a thousand miles from me.

Sun pours down, its hazy texture like grains of salt falling into the open wounds of my conscience.

*   *   *

Late afternoon. Like dogs bathing in the sunshine, they’re sprawled around the deck, soaking in the rays, napping. Their energies depleted, stomachs caved in and growling even as they sleep. It’s my shift again at the stern. I drink in the sound of water lapping under the wooden boards, a rhythmic, hollow sound that is strangely comforting. The undulating bob of the boat prods me into sleepiness.

Epap is awake. He’s hunched over, scribbling something, completely immersed in a drawing. Curiosity gets the better of me and I amble over, unnoticed.

He’s sketching an image of Sissy. In the drawing, she’s standing on a rock at the edge of a waterfall, one arm raised and staring ahead, her arm as slim as the horizon is long. The waterfall sparkles as if bejeweled by thousands of rubies and diamonds. She’s wearing a sleeveless silk gown, her chest bustier and waist narrower than in reality. In the drawing, someone is standing behind her. It takes a moment before I realize who it’s supposed to be. Epap, in a muscle T-shirt, his arms rippling cords of bunched muscles, his washboard abs reflecting moonlight. One hand is placed on Sissy’s waist, the other placed farther down, lighting on her right thigh with an overwrought tenderness. Sissy is reaching back and grabbing the back of his head with a passionate fist, her fingers intertwined in the strands of his wavy hair.

“Wow, that’s quite a feat of imagination,” I say.

“Wha—!” he exclaims, slamming the sketchbook shut. “You little snoop!”

“What’s going on?” Sissy murmurs, her eyes blinking with sleep.

“Take it easy,” I say. “When you’re done with your, um, drawings, mind giving me help with the steering? The current’s gotten strong.”

I head to the bow, angling the rudder pole until the boat slowly rights itself. From inside the cabin, Epap is barking about something. After a few minutes, it’s David, not Epap, who comes out to lend a hand.

Whoa
, he mouths, seeing the river. “We’re going really fast.” He grabs the other pole.

Epap is speaking to Sissy at the stern, his arms spread wide for balance. She shakes her head in response, pointing at the sun-columned but still overcast skies. Epap edges closer to her, his hands waving excitedly. They continue speaking, intensely, but I can’t hear a word over the roar of the river. I walk over.

“—river,” he’s saying to her.

“What are you talking about?” I say as I approach them.

Epap shoots me a disagreeable look. “It’s nothing.”

I face Sissy. “What about the river?”

“The river is wet!” Epap sneers. “Now start minding your own business!”

“You’re thinking of docking, aren’t you?” I say to Sissy. “To hunt for food.”

Sissy doesn’t answer, only stares at the river, her jaw clenched.

“Let me tell you,” I say, “that’s a wrong move. That’s a mistake.”

“Nobody asked for your opinion,” Epap says, positioning himself between me and Sissy.

“Getting off this boat is a big mistake, Sissy,” I say, stepping around Epap. His back bristles with annoyance. “Didn’t we learn anything from last night? There’s—”

“What part of ‘mind your own business’ do you not understand?” Epap snarls. “In fact, just go get the rope lines ready. We’ll need to anchor this boat down once we land.”

“Are you out of your mind? They want to eat us—”

Epap’s head flies around, raw disdain swimming in his eyes. “Oh, really, figured that one out yourself, did you?”

“Listen! They might still be out there—”

“Not anymore, they aren’t,” Epap says. “Don’t you know anything about them? I’m surprised how little you know considering you’ve lived in their midst your whole life. Hello, the sun burns them up. And hello, the sun is shining down now.”

“It’s not enough sun. The hunters, they’re clever, they improvise, they have technology, they have determination. You underestimate them at your own peril.”

“The only thing out there is food,” Epap yells back. “There’s wildlife running everywhere, it’s like a petting zoo out there. Must have seen at least three prairie dogs already. Now, just leave the decision making to Sissy and me.”

“Epap,” Sissy says. She shakes her head. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s too risky.”

A wounded expression crosses his face. “But Sissy, I don’t understand. You just agreed to go hunting for food.” His eyes are equal parts confused and incredulous. “You know how hungry we are. Think of poor Ben.”

“Of course. But let’s be levelheaded about this, okay?”

“No, Sissy, you just agreed with me. That we should dock and go hunting.”

“I’m trying to be careful—”

“Is it because of him?” Epap says, jabbing a finger at me. “Just because he said we shouldn’t dock, and suddenly you’re agreeing with him?”

“Stop.”

“Because of him?”

“Epap! I’m not saying we stay off the land for good. But let’s wait for the skies to clear. For the sun to really scorch the land. If we have to wait until tomorrow, then we wait. An extra day of hunger isn’t going to kill us. But rashly and prematurely going on land just might.”

Epap turns his back to her, anger fuming off his narrow shoulders. “Why’re you so quick to get on his good side? I can’t believe you’re siding with him!”

“I’m not siding with anyone. I’m siding with reason. With what’s best for all of us.”

“What’s best for
you
! You want him to think well of you, that’s why you’re siding with him!”

“Okay, I’m done arguing,” she says and walks away.

Epap glares at her back. He’s still got anger to burn. “See what you’ve done?” he says to me. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you? You think you’re such a tough guy.
Oh, look at me, I survived for years living in their midst
.
Oh, look at my swagger
. You know, you’re just ridiculous to me.”

Don’t be baited, walk away,
I tell myself.

“Did you want to be one of them?” Epap says in a low voice. “Were you ashamed of who you are?”

I stop in my tracks.

“Because I’ve seen the way you look at us. I’ve seen the smugness on your face,” he says, his lips twisting into a snarl. “You look down on us. It pains you to have to associate with us. Deep down, you look up to
them,
don’t you? Deep down, you probably want to
be
one of them.”

“Epap, drop it,” Sissy says. She’s turned around again, watching us carefully.

“You have no idea,” I say to Epap, my voice tight.

“Come again?” he says, a silly grin on his face.

“You have no idea what they are. If you did, you’d never have said something so stupid.”

“I have no idea? Really? I mean, really?
I
have no idea?” He glares at me with naked derision. “You’re the one who has no idea. But then again, why would you? You’ve rubbed shoulders with them, been buddies with them all your life. You’ve never seen them rip your parents to shreds. You’ve never seen them tear the limbs off your sister or brother right in front of you. You don’t know them the way we do.”

“I know them better than you think,” I say. My voice is low and even-keeled, but bunched, ready to be unleashed at a split second’s notice. “Trust me on that one. I mean, what do you really know of them? They’ve been little more than your doting nannies, feeding you, clothing you, baking you birthday cakes—”

Epap comes at me, his finger pointing like a talon. “Why you—”

Sissy pulls his arm down. “Enough, Epap!”

“There you go again,” he cries. “Why are you always so quick to side with him?
Enough Epap, stop Epap.
What is he to you? Why do you … oh, forget it!” He tears his arm away from her. “You want to go hungry together, go ahead. But if we get sick, if we starve, it’s on you, don’t you forget that.”

“Quit with the melodrama, Epap.” Her chest heaves up and down.

He casts his eyes away, doesn’t say anything. Then suddenly leaps at me, his momentum catching me and sending our bodies crashing hard against the deck. The wooden boards drum hollow on our impact.

A curious, deep thump rumbles beneath me. As if I’ve jarred something loose under the boat.

Epap is cursing and swinging on top of me, and it’s all I can do to deflect his blows. Then Sissy is prying him off me, her face a furious red.

“We’ve got enough to deal with!” she shouts. “We need to focus on fighting
them,
not each other!”

Epap spins around, stares at the riverbank. He runs a hand through his hair, his breathing ragged. But I’m not paying attention to him. All my focus is on the deck under me. I knock on it. The same hollow thump reverberates back. I knock the deck a yard away, and a thump of a different timbre sounds back.

“What is it?” David asks. Now they’re all turning to look at me.

I thump the deck with all my might. And I hear it again, the sound of dislodgment. Of something secreted under the boat, hidden from unwanted eyes. A lump suddenly forms in my throat as I realize something.

“Gene?” Sissy says. “What’s going on?”

I look at her with dazed eyes.

“Gene?”

“I think something is under this boat,” I say. And now everyone’s staring at me. “It’s been under our noses this whole time.”

Ben studies the deck, confused. “Where? I don’t see anything.”

“The only place a hunter wouldn’t think—wouldn’t dare—look,” I say. “Underwater.”

*   *   *

Diving into the river is like cracking through the face of a mirror. And as welcoming; it’s all shards of cold that slash and cut my bare skin. My lungs contract to the size of marbles. I surface, gasping for air. The current is a beast. Although a rope is looped around my chest in the off chance—not so off, I now realize—that I might get swept away, it offers little comfort. I immediately grab the side of the boat. I allow myself a few seconds to get used to the cold, then duck under.

For grip, I wedge my fingers between the wooden planks of the deck. My legs go flying with the current, pulling me parallel with the boat. I’m like a flag flailing in high wind. Sunlight pours between the planks, thin slats of light cutting downward in the murky waters. It’s eerily quiet down here, just a deep mournful humming broken up by the occasional swishing sound. My eyes dart around, trying to find something, anything, out of the ordinary.

There. A boxed compartment, jutting from the boat’s dead center. Carefully, I allow my body to drift toward it until I’m wrapping my arms around it, thankful for the support. A metal latch, rusted over, hangs on the underside. It doesn’t give on my initial pull. I yank it and the whole underside swings open.

A large slab of stone tumbles out, hitting me on the back of the head. The pain is numbing and disorienting. I make a quick, blind grab for the tablet as it slides down my body. But I’m too late. The tablet slides down my legs, bounces off my left shin, and fades into the murky depths.

Lungs bursting, I spin around until I’m crouched upside down, feet planted on the underside of the boat. It’s now or never. One chance to make a dive for the tablet before it descends past the point of retrieval. I kick off the bottom of the boat. My body missiles downward, into darkness, into the cold.

A fraction of a second before the rope looped around me pulls taut, my fingertips touch stone. I grab it. Then I’m bounced up as if on a bungee cord, the force of it almost dislodging the tablet from my hands. I cradle the tablet against my bare chest, feel grooved lettering engraved into it.

I surface out of the water in a spray of white, my body reduced to one gigantic mouth gasping for air. Epap and David see the tablet and pry it from my tired arms. They leave me in the water, clinging to the side, barely able to hang on.

By the time I heave myself onboard, my body flopping wet and heavy, they’ve all huddled around the tablet. Heads pressed together and angled, they’re reading the words chiseled into stone:

STAY ON THE RIVER.

—The Scientist

Their mouths are cracking open. A chorus of giggles and laughter leaks, then bays out. They are all smiles and astonishment and delirium.

“I told you! I told you! I told you!” Ben is shouting, slapping everyone on the back. “He’d planned this all along!”

Sissy is standing, hands clasped to her mouth, her eyebrows arched high, tears brimming in her eyes.

“I
knew
he’d come through for us!” Jacob shouts. “The Promised Land! He’s leading us to the Promised Land. Of Milk and Honey, Fruit and Sunshine!”