Guardians (27 page)

The three of them hid in the shadows like that for an hour, listening to the sounds of the crackdown that raged around them. Only when it finally seemed to taper off did Esther dare to peer around the corner. What she saw sickened and
horrified her. By the light of the new moon, she saw dozens of motionless heaps on the sidewalk—the bodies of slaves.

“Don't look back,” she whispered to Ava.

Joseph was quieting the mewing Stumpy. “Esther,” he whispered, “we must go.”

At the sound of the strange name, Ava looked up questioningly.

“Esther?” she repeated. She shook her head, bewildered. “Gideon kill her long ago. Why he call you that?”

Esther did not explain or even respond; there was no time. Once more taking the hands of the others, she raced with them through the silent streets.

Soon, they made it to a different neighborhood, one that was far from the enormous skyscrapers, and they could no longer smell the lingering stench of the torches. But still she urged the others along.

Finally, Ava could run no more. She stumbled in the dark and then fell to one knee, nearly dragging the other two down with her. Esther attempted to carry the girl, but she, too, was exhausted.

“Okay,” she said. “Let's stop for the night.”

By now, they were in what seemed to have been an industrial section of town, surrounded by large buildings, abandoned trucks, and empty lots with rusted chain-link fences. Esther found a structure where the massive door was already rolled halfway open, allowing the three to duck under. Although their sneakered feet made no noise on the cement floor, their whispered voices echoed in the immense space.

Esther was wary. Long ago, Skar had taught her to avoid open spaces in favor of nooks that were small and hidden, invisible to the casual glance. Yet she had detected no such shelter nearby. Walking in small steps with her hands held in front of her, she felt her way across the cavernous room. She found a short set of steps in the corner that led up to an elevated platform against the wall.

It would have to do.

Ava was so exhausted she dropped to the hard floor, and within moments she was sound asleep. Joseph, too, drifted off, snoring intermittently, one arm draped around the cat carrier. But Esther was too keyed up. By now, her eyes had adjusted to the near-total darkness. The only thing she could make out was the horizontal band of night air visible under the door, discernible by the faint moonlight outside. She stared at it for what felt like hours.

And then Esther started.

She could have sworn she saw a dark shape scuttle across the strip of gray air and then disappear. The skin at the base of her neck prickling, Esther sat up. All of her senses straining, she automatically placed her arms around the sleeping people on either side of her.

Something scrabbled against the cement floor: nails clicking on the hard surface.

As Esther rose, another creature appeared at the door opening, and then another. By now, she could smell a pungent tang, faint yet so sharp she could almost taste it. She heard something else, as well: a loud panting. A new vibration stirred
the air: the throaty growl of many animals that were clearly watching her . . . and waiting.

Trembling, Esther stepped to the edge of the platform. In the murky light, she saw she was facing a sea of shadows: At least eight wild dogs stood in the gloom before her. Like all cowards, the animals were attuned to the presence of anything more vulnerable than they were.

They had detected Ava, tiny and defenseless as she slept. Or was it Stumpy, who now stirred in the carrier and hissed?

“Shoo . . . get out of here!”
Esther spoke in a harsh whisper. She was about to clap her hands, but thought better of it; if she awoke Ava, her screams would almost certainly trigger an attack. Instead, Esther made an abrupt and sweeping gesture with both arms to get rid of them. The dogs nearest her quailed and shrank back. But the pack did not retreat. One of them, a rust-colored mutt with matted fur, bared its teeth and advanced.

Esther felt a trickle of sweat run down her back. Moving in a deliberate way, she walked to the steps and started down, again trying to appear bigger than she was. She didn't want to get too far away from the others; doing so would leave them open to a sneak attack from the side. Instead, she would try to assert her dominance by confronting the reddish dog, who she sensed was the leader.

She stood one step above the ground, gazing down into its glittering eyes.

“Go on,” she whispered. “Get out!”

Her plan backfired.

Esther's stare seemed to infuriate it further. Coiling itself back on its haunches, the dog sprang forward and launched itself at her throat. Esther, stunned and terrified, stumbled backward and fell onto the cement stairs, one useless arm held up in protection.

Then an explosion occurred.

Something barreled across the dark garage. With a loud yelp of surprise, the red dog swiveled in midair; then, growling and snapping, it began fighting with the creature that had attacked it. The two bodies thudded to the ground no more than a foot from Esther, who watched in amazement.

There was no contest. The second animal was much bigger and within seconds, it towered over the first one, which squirmed on its back, baring its throat and belly in abject defeat. The victor growled deep in its chest, placing its jaws for one second over the other one's muzzle as if in final warning, then it let go.

And turned toward Esther.

The girl remained frozen where she had fallen, but she was no longer frightened. Although the past few months had been cruel to her old friend, who was much thinner now and walked with a limp, she still recognized him.

“Pilot,” she whispered with a feeling both of sorrow and wonder.

Aras's dog walked over to her and leaned heavily against her as she took him in her arms. His fur was dusty and matted and she could feel his ribs etched in sharp relief against his side, yet his immense tail thumped as he pushed his face against hers
and licked her again and again.

Then she sensed his muzzle searching as it pushed against her hip.

Confused, she dropped her hand to her pocket. Realization hit her as she reached in and pulled out what was inside. It was the tattered rag she had recovered from the elevator: the piece of blue cloth that had once belonged to Aras. Pilot nosed it violently, snuffling as he breathed in its smell.

And then he began to howl.

The room resounded with the grief-stricken cries of the animal as he mourned his lost master, now gone forever.

E
STHER STOOD AT THE BASE OF A BROKEN STAIRCASE THAT LOOKED AS IF
it led to the sky. Embedded in the side of the mountain, the ascent appeared not only endless but impossibly steep. Yet after hours spent leading the others through Mundreel, she felt certain that they were at last close to the source of the smoke that billowed high above them.

Joseph seemed well rested after a night of sleep. Even Pilot stood by her side, eager and panting as he awaited her orders. But Ava, who looked paler and more fragile than ever, drew a shaky breath as she gazed upward.

“Don't think I can.” Her voice was barely audible.

“Come on,” Esther said. “We'll help you.”

“Your friends. They at the top?”

Earlier that morning, Esther had attempted to build a fire in order to send a signal of her own. Yet without a firestarter, she had been at a loss. She'd tried striking a spark between two rocks as she had seen Skar do many times, but it was no good. She would just have to locate the origin of the signal and hope for the best.

Still, she spoke with confidence, because she had no other plan. “They can feed us and take care of us. We just have to get there first.”

The dog had already climbed the first few steps and now turned back, as if waiting for them to follow.

“See?” Esther said. “Pilot says you can do it, too.”

She knew her joke was silly, yet it cheered the girl, who smiled for the first time that day. Ava had initially been terrified of the animal, and with good reason; although loyal to his owners, Pilot was vicious and unpredictable. Yet perhaps sensing how vulnerable the child was, he was now on his best behavior. He even allowed Ava to hold on to his back, gripping his dusty fur for support.

Esther took the girl's other hand, which felt hot and papery in her own. With Joseph and his cat carrier bringing up the rear, they began the arduous journey up the stone steps, which soon gave way to wooden planks.

Their footing was unstable and the steps were punishingly high. Many were warped or cracked and the ancient nails that held them in place squeaked and groaned. As the sun beat
down on them, Esther and the others clung to the bent and rusted banister for support. At times, the stairs gave way altogether and they were forced to pull themselves over the dusty incline hand over hand.

Yet with each painful step, the smoke grew closer.

Esther kept her eyes on the ground beneath her and focused on moving her feet; it was the only way she could bear to continue. Behind her, she could hear Joseph toiling upward, matching her step for step. With her left hand, she still kept tight hold of Ava. By now, Esther was practically dragging the younger girl upward. Finally, Pilot scrambled ahead. When Esther raised her eyes, she saw he stood at the top, gazing down at them, impatient. He even wagged his tail.

With that, Esther pulled herself onto the final step. Ava dropped forward upon the ground as Joseph, still gripping the cat carrier, joined her.

Esther saw that they were now high above the city of Mundreel, which spread out behind them. They stood before the wide expanse of what had once been a public park. Brown and straggly growth filled a haphazard field that faced a dense forest.

To her disappointment, Esther saw that although they were closer, the smoke was still farther away, rising from above the treetops. She estimated they had at least another half mile to go.

Behind her, Joseph had struggled to get the younger girl back to her feet. By now, Ava was barely conscious. Esther bent over and took her on her back, hoisting her leg with one hand
while gripping her opposite shoulder with the other. When she straightened, she felt as if she were carrying hundreds of pounds, even though Ava was not much more than half her weight.

The heat of the sun and the effort of carrying Ava made it seem as if the child was burning up; within seconds, Esther's back grew even slicker with perspiration. Yet she continued across the park grounds and into the deep woods that surrounded them, the dog by her side and Joseph trailing behind. As she picked her way through the tangled undergrowth, she managed to keep an eye on the ephemeral gray trail in the sky.

At last, she saw where it was emanating from.

Deeper in the woods, the remains of a fire smoldered in the center of a wide stone terrace, set in the side of the mountain. Behind it loomed a large building, ornate yet in bad repair.

Esther turned to Joseph and gestured for him to be quiet. Without making a sound, she then slipped Ava from her shoulders and onto the mossy ground. She clicked her tongue softly; Pilot's ears perked up at the familiar command. Then, moving with great care, she and the dog made their way closer.

Peering through the dense foliage, Esther saw no one at first. Then a figure stepped out from around the building, dragging a tree limb.

It was Skar.

Even as the variant girl looked up, Esther had burst from her hiding place and was racing toward her. Pilot exploded in joyous barking as he ran with Esther. She flew to her oldest
friend and leaped into her arms.

They stayed like that for what seemed minutes, and although Skar rarely cried, her face was soon wet with tears, both hers and Esther's. Finally, she was able to pull back and look into the other girl's eyes.

“It is good to see you,” the variant said, with her typical understatement. Esther smiled.

“You, too,” she said.

“We did not know what had happened after that night. After Gideon and his boys arrived.”

Esther shook her head. “Eli saved me. He's in charge of sentencing, and he . . . I have him to thank.”

Skar was letting Pilot sniff her hand; now the dog even deigned to allow her to stroke him, lowering his massive head. “But that was weeks ago. Where have you been since then?”

For a moment, Esther thought of the crack of Jud's belt, the backbreaking labor in the new tower, the brutal attack by Gideon's guards. She could not bear to recount any of it, at least not yet. She shook her head. Skar nodded with understanding; then she placed a soft palm on Esther's wounded jaw.

“It's all right,” Esther said. “It'll heal.” She took Skar's hand away and squeezed it. “But tell me about you and the others. Did everyone get out? Are you all well?”

Skar smiled. “We are. But—”

Then she smiled. Ava and Joseph had emerged, timidly, from the underbrush. Skar had already run forward and was embracing the older boy, who kept his arms rigidly at his sides.
Still, he beamed the whole time.

After a quick introduction, Skar took Ava herself, lifting her onto her strong back.

“Follow me,” she said.

Skar led them down streets, cutting past backyards and through sections of forest until they finally emerged onto a sidewalk. Esther saw they were in a business district of brick buildings, two and three stories high. They stopped in front of one and Skar nodded.

Inside, the smell of roast meat hung heavy in the air. A small group was seated on the floor, finishing their midday meal: Michal, Silas, Uri.

And Kai.

“Mama!”

With a look of amazement, the little boy stood up, food still pasted around his mouth. Then he ran to her. Forgetting her exhaustion, Esther bent low and scooped the delighted child into her arms, pressing kiss after kiss upon his soft and sticky face. She could not squeeze him tightly enough. He too clung to her, giggling and squealing with joy at the feel of her mouth on his neck.

The others surrounded her as well, laughing and exclaiming as they hugged her. Esther tried to greet them all in turn but the whole time, her eyes kept roaming through the empty storefront. At last, they landed on Skar.

“Where's Sarah?”

The chatter died down as one by one, her friends averted their eyes. Finally, Skar spoke.

“They have her.” Her expression was grave. “Saith and Gideon.”

Esther felt the floor shift beneath her. “But . . . but you said—”

“I did not mean to lie to you. But it was important to get you to safety first.” Skar sighed. “I am sorry, Esther.”

In an instant, all the strength that Esther's friends had given her seemed to vanish; her knees buckled and she sank to the floor, still holding Kai. Numb, she sat like that for what felt like hours. She listened to Skar describe the onslaught, their escape, and how they came to their new refuge.

“Then I must go,” Esther said. She struggled to rise, but Skar put a hand on her arm, restraining her.

“You are much too weak.”

“I don't care. I have to find her. I—”

“We will find out where she is soon enough. I have sent someone to the District.”

Esther glanced up sharply. Her eyes flickered to Silas, who looked as surprised by the news as the others.

“Who?”

“The boy with the white hair. Trey.”

Esther drew a deep breath; at first, she thought she had misheard. “Trey? When did he . . .”

“He left only yesterday. But if anyone can find out what is going on inside the District, it is he.”

After a pause, Esther nodded. Although the odds seemed grim, she knew that her friend was right: Trey was more than capable. Knowing that he was at that moment searching for
news of her child, Esther was comforted . . . so much so that for the first time in what seemed like weeks, she allowed herself to feel a sudden and fierce stab of hunger.

“Please,” she said, “if there's anything left . . . we're starving.”

Michal began serving what remained of their meal, and Uri fetched clean water from a bucket in the corner. Joseph accepted his portion and fed Stumpy a chunk of it, having freed her from the carrier. Then he began eating ravenously, cramming roast rabbit into his mouth. Esther waited to take her own until Ava was served. Then she made certain to feed Pilot before starting to eat as well.

“Here,” Michal said, as she bent over the smaller girl, holding out a haunch of meat.

Then she stopped. With a cry, she jerked back so fast she dropped the food on the floor.

On the underside of Ava's outstretched arm was a round purple mark, small yet unmistakable: a lesion.
That explained the heat,
Esther realized with a pang as she remembered the thin body pressed against her back.
The girl was burning up with fever
.

“You can serve her,” she said to Michal, with more force than she had intended. “It's all right.”

But she could see stubborn dismay on Michal's face. Silas, too, had begun to back away, pressing his arm against his mouth and nose; even Skar appeared uneasy. Esther retrieved the food from the ground and, brushing it off, handed it to Ava. The girl whispered her thanks. Then she lowered her eyes and began to eat.

Esther was exasperated. She knew that nothing she could say would ever convince her friends that the sick posed no threat, that their fears were unfounded—not even the fact that she herself was still alive.

Then someone cleared his throat.

It was Uri. Like Joseph, his mentor and friend, the boy seemed ill at ease speaking to a group. His thin neck was flushed a dark red and he worked his hands, twisting his fingers together.

“Esther's right,” he said. “I don't think you get sick that way.”

Because Uri was normally so silent, the others paid attention.

“Some diseases you get from people.” Uri looked as if he were addressing the floor. “We all know about those. The ones where you sneeze or cough . . . if you're sick like that, you pass it to others. But some illnesses, you don't. Like a headache. A cut that doesn't get better.” The others nodded as they digested his words. “That's because we get sick from all kinds of things. Bad food. Animal bites. Not always people.”

Now he raised his head so that everyone could hear. “This disease comes from water. That means it's safe to be around someone who's sick.” He indicated Ava, who stared at him without comprehension. “In fact, the more time we spend with them, the less likely we'll get sick. It makes us . . . immune.”

Finished, Uri glanced away. Joseph was looking at him with an expression of pride on his face.

Esther thought over Uri's strange words: the idea that
spending time with the dying kept one from getting the disease. Could it be true? She saw the others looking at Ava quizzically, considering his odd ideas.

After a whispered discussion, Ava was allowed to remain in the store: She was given space in the corner, far from the rest. Within minutes, heedless of the stifling air, the girl was fast asleep. So was Joseph.

Michal had taken Kai; she, Skar, and the others had slipped away to give the three some much-needed quiet. Esther had curled into a ball on her side, when she felt something bump against her.

It was Pilot, nosing her cheek. She put her arms around him and burrowed her face into his dusty fur.

Soon, they, too, were asleep.

Esther felt someone touch her arm.

Fear exploding in her chest, she bolted upright, her arms covering her face. It took a moment to realize she was no longer in slave quarters and that Jud wasn't standing over her, brandishing his belt.

Kneeling in front of her, gently shaking her awake, was Skar.

“Sarah is alive,” Skar whispered. She gestured to the door.

All of the day's events came rushing back. “Sarah.” Esther's voice was a croak, and she stumbled to rush outside.

Lit by the setting sun, Trey was leaning against a rusty and dented car. When he saw Esther in the doorway, his face lit up; for a moment, it seemed that he might rush forward and seize her in an embrace. Then he looked away and
cleared his throat as if uncomfortable.

“Your friend in there said you was still alive,” he remarked in a neutral voice. “Had to see for myself. 'Cause that sure ain't what they say back at the District.”

He looked much the way she remembered, with the white strip in his dark hair. He was leaner than before, his face more creased.
It was becoming to him,
Esther had to admit; she was glad to see him. Yet there were so many emotions to take in now.