Green Jack (14 page)

“I know what it
does,” the girl said flatly.

Fear was
acidic, searing her stomach, her throat, the space between her
ribs. They fogged the suburbs on a weekly basis to eradicate any
squatters, runaways or otherwise desperate folk who thought they
could hide from the Directorate. The cloud left a red film like
desert dust. It was harmless after a few hours, but a fresh cloud
like the one stalking towards them was deadly. Jane didn’t know
exactly how it worked, only that it left behind bodies with red
eyes and thousands of bleeding pinpricks.

“We have to
run,” she said. “They Dust all the buildings, inside and out,
through the broken windows.”

The machines
blowing the Dust whirred and purred. Birds flew overhead in such
numbers that the sky darkened as they passed, trying to escape the
poison.Jane was grateful she’d been running for fun for so long. It
made running for her life so much easier.

“You’re from
the bloody Enclave,” the girl said staring at her survival suit.
“Figures.”

Jane was well
aware that the Elysians hated the Enclave. They got the best
education, the best food, the best of everything.

The best of
everything.

“That could
work,” she muttered out loud. A bonebird dropped screeching from
the sky, wing tips dusted red. “Come on.”

The girl
started running, but in the wrong direction. “That road will take
you to the Enclaves,” Jane said. “If you survive. Now come on!”

She paused but
when the red cloud came closer she cursed and ran after Jane. Her
foot caught in a bit of buckled pavement and she sprawled forward.
When she pushed up into a crouch, her arms, side and cheek were
scratched bloody. Something green poked out of her pack. When Jane
reached to help her lift it, the girl snapped at her. “Don’t.”

But she’d seen
the green leaves, she knew what it meant. And why the pink moon had
brought her here.

The cloud
licked at them with a monstrous mouth full of deadly red tongues.
More birds fell. A horse and three dogs galloped out of the weedy
space between two houses and nearly trampled them in their panic.
“Go, go, go!” The girl shouted, even as Jane slipped an arm under
the shoulder to support her weight.

“We need high
ground,” Jane shouted back. “I have an idea.”

The machines
closed in, a wall of steel and motors and death. They ran until
even Jane was gasping, her lungs fire, her legs water. The machines
multiplied, coming in from both sides to meet at the edges of the
suburbs. Jane felt a prickle on the back of her hand, just before
pain burst like soft fruit falling from the top branch of a tree.
It stole her breath, very nearly stole her eyesight too as
everything went white for a long terrible moment. She cradled her
hand to her chest, adrenaline pushing her a few more feet.

“High ground,”
Jane choked a reminder. The air tasted like metal and pepper.

“That one,” the
girl said suddenly. “Trellis.”

Jane saw it,
relief pumping more power through her legs as she climbed. She
crawled across the peeling shingles, dust making the air look
rusty. Her hand hurt, blisters already forming from her brief
contact. “Dying up here or down there,” the girl added. “I don’t
see the difference.”

“The Dust is
focused on the streets and inside homes. It will blow up here, but
not as concentrated,” Jane explained, fumbling for the large pouch
attached to her utility belt. She unwrapped a length of silver
plastic, like an emergency blanket. The girl looked unimpressed.
“It’s a survival bag,” Jane said. “Like a sleeping bag, but it
protects against acid rain, ice, heat.”

“Dust?”

“I hope so,”
Jane replied. She had to believe the omens wouldn’t just lead her
to a slow agonizing death on a suburb rooftop. “Because it here
comes.” She tossed a mask at Saffron. There were always two, just
in case. “Put this on. It’s good against mustard gases and
chemicals.”

She slipped
hers on until it suctioned to her face. She wrapped the survival
tent around them. They had to wedge against each other, elbows and
knees digging into soft places. She pulled the zipper then the
string that activated the compound along the seam, sealing them
inside. Jane’s breath was loud and hot inside the mask.

There was no
way of knowing if the tent was working, or if the Dust had found
them yet. They weren’t on fire with pain, but there were no
guarantees for the next second and the one after that. The silver
material crinkled. “If we’re going to die here wrapped in plastic,
I should probably know your name.” The girl’s voice was muffled and
tinny through the mask.

“Jane
Highgate.”

“Saffron
Foxfire.”

Jane remembered
fields of purple crocuses along with the pink moon. Saffron was a
pollen gathered from the stamens of crocus flowers and used as a
spice. She half-smiled, both bolstered and slightly terrified.
Whatever was happening was laced with numen, pushing them and
prodding them. But why? And where? She wanted to ask her about the
leaf mask but she looked so fierce.

“Where are you
going?” she asked instead.

“The Spirit
Forest. You?”

“Away.”

“So how do you
like it so far?” Saffron asked wryly. She shifted, the material
crinkling loudly. “Since I’m not bleeding from the eyeballs, I’m
guessing your survival bag is working. So thanks.”

“We have
mandatory survival training. Just in case.” Jane said. “The
Directorate wants the Enclave to survive because--.” She cut
herself off.

“Makes sense,”
Saffron said. “You have the education. What does the world need
with another Core rat?”

“I don’t think
that way,” Jane said quietly.

“Saffron
snorted. “I do.”

Chapter
21

Saffron

They stayed
cramped together for at least an hour, though it felt like much
longer. When they finally emerged from the cocoon, it was to red
streets littered with the carcasses of slow-moving animals. Saffron
could see the gleam of the Directorate farm domes circling the edge
of the Spirit Forest and the crackled hills of the Badlands beyond.
She’d never guessed there’d be so many. The Wall cut down towards
the lake, extending the Kill Zone. “I told them this was a bad
idea,” Saffron muttered.

“Do you have a
way in?” Jane asked.

“Not yet.”

“Maybe I can
help you.”

“Why?” Saffron
demanded. She knew half a dozen people who’d have already killed
Jane for her suit alone and yet she was oblivious or trusting. Two
qualities Saffron didn’t understand.

“Because that’s
what people do. Help each other.”

“No,” she
pointed out drily. “It really isn’t.”

“Well, maybe
they should start.” Jane made a face. “Anyway, the moon led me to
you.”

“The moon.” She
turned her head. “I appreciate the help with the Dust, but I can’t
take care of a crazy Enclave girl right now. Even if you did save
my life.”

“I’m not
crazy,” Jane said, “I’m an Oracle.”

Saffron wasn’t
convinced there was a difference. Still, she remembered Killian had
gone to this tiny bruised girl. “You read omens for my friend.”

Jane nodded.
“The one with the katana. I read for him twice actually.”

“And what did
you see?”

“That’s not for
me to say,” she replied primly. It made Saffron want to shake her.
Still, Jane clearly hadn’t said anything about the leaf mask, or
else she’d be raising an alarm.

Unless that’s
what this was.

Saffron blamed
the hot stifling air inside the silver survival bag for not
realizing it instantly. She’d saved Saffron from the Dust, knowing
she had a leaf mask, knowing she was a Green Jill.

She’d been sent
by the Directorate, not the moon.

Saffron spun
sharply, punching Jane in her already bruised face. She flew
backwards onto the shingles, landing hard. Saffron crouched beside
her. “You can tell the Directorate to go to hell.”

“I thought I
was,” she mumbled around her split lip. She tried to sit up,
blinking dizzily.

“You saved my
life,” Saffron said, unclipping the paracord from Jane’s belt and
tying her wrist to the chimney pot. “So consider the debt
paid.”

“By tying me
up?” Blood stained her teeth.

“By not killing
you.” She rummaged through Jane’s pack, claiming the water canteen,
and several protein bars. She took the knife from Jane’s boot as
well. She’d have taken her survival suit too but it was too much
like leaving a kitten out to die. Even though the gear wasn’t even
repurposed, everything about it was new and perfect. Saffron had
never actually seen anything made from whole cloth like that.
Mostly they all made do with leftover clothing from the department
stores abandoned during the wars. There were a great deal fewer
people left to clothe, after all.

Jane fought
against the paracord, leaving raw marks on her wrist. “You can’t
just leave me here!”

“I’m sure the
Directorate will find you in no time. They always come for their
own.”

“I’m not
working for the Directorate!”

“Sure, you
found me in the middle of nowhere just in time to save me from the
Dust,” She got to her feet, sneering. “All because of the
moon.”

“I’m a Core
rat,” she added, before climbing down the trellis. “Not an
idiot.”

Chapter
22

Jane

Jane hadn’t
been out of the Enclave for more than a day and she was already
tied to a chimney pot.

Not exactly
encouraging.

Luckily, the
chimney was not very sturdy and after a few hard kicks with her
heels, it broke off. The moon was still pink, though it was fading.
She knew why she’d been led to save Saffron. She’d seen the leaf
mask in her pack when they were running from the Dust. What she
hadn’t seen coming was the right hook. Her jaw ached. She shimmied
down the trellis, following Saffron’s footsteps in the eerie red
dust. It wasn’t as if she had anywhere else to go.

And Directorate
or not, she was a Numina, sworn to the Green Gods. Saffron was a
Jill. It was Jane’s duty to help her.

Even if she
could already feel the side of her face swelling up.

The red powder
clung to the houses, the abandoned cars, to dead birds and cats and
raccoons. Jane considered putting the mask back on, even though she
knew it was harmless in this form. Saffron’s tracks took her out of
the suburbs, as expected. The red pavement gave way to fields
littered with broken rubble and fallen telephone poles. Heat
pressed down on her, humid and sticky. Sweat ran down her side
under her survival suit. She unzipped the top, her tank top already
damp. Her throat cramped with thirst but Saffron had taken her
water. She chewed on an anise star, hoping it would help.

Saffron’s
footsteps began to drag until they stuttered elliptically. She
found Saffron slumped against a wall. “Jacking hell, Jane,” Saffron
muttered. “What are you even doing here? If you say the moon made
you do it, I will stab you.”

She thought of
Asher, of the Garden, of dryads in the trees. Of her father
sacrificed to a leaf mask. Of what Cartimandua would have in store
for her if she didn’t produce babies strong enough to wear the
mask. Of what she would do to those babies. There would be tests,
laboratories. She didn’t say any of it though, not with Saffron
wilting, a leaf mask in her hair and her arm tag raw and infected.
“I have cream for that,” she said instead.

Saffron pushed
weakly to her feet. “I’m not sure I can believe you’re not
Directorate.”

“Well, I did
save your life. And I’m about to do it again.” She didn’t know how
else to convince her they needed to travel together. Saffron had a
Green Jack mask, Jane had Green Jack numen. They had to stick
together. She no longer needed a pink moon to tell her that. “You
owe me.”

Saffron
half-smiled. “Now you’re speaking a language I understand.”

“So consider
this a temporary alliance then. I’m a Numina. We’re sworn to the
Green Gods, remember? I have a duty to the leaf mask, and to you as
a Jill.”

“I’m not a
Jill.” When Jane just stared at her she hunched her shoulders. “If
you slow me down, I’m leaving you behind.”

Jane felt
something finally unclench in her stomach. The burning at the top
of her spine abated slightly. She put her arm under Saffron’s
shoulders, supporting most of her weight. “I’ll be sure to keep
up,” she said drily.

Chapter
23

Saffron

The Badlands
were as hot and dangerous as the stories said. The ground was hard
and dry, and cracked like glass. The sun bleached the sky and the
piles of bones scattered haphazardly about. Not haphazardly
precisely---they were too big and uniform to be an accident, but
whatever internal logic had led the builders was lost on
Saffron.