Numbers Ignite (2 page)

A snake. I’d never seen one, but that was all it could be—Oh, fates. The pain was growing by the second. My ankle had already begun to swell.

Snakes were poisonous. No, that wasn’t the word. If only I had water to wash the wound out. But what good would that do? The poison was in my bloodstream, not on the skin. I wrestled with my brain, wanting to scream in frustration. How was I supposed to treat something like this when I was too weak and tired to think straight? My body began to shake, a violent, uncontrollable shiver.

Those men.
There it was, a hint of reason in the murkiness of my mind. I turned and looked upward at the shed I’d just left. If I screamed loud enough, maybe I’d be heard. “Help! Somebody!”

My voice echoed, then died off. I tried a few more times, then listened for a long moment. The men didn’t return. Or if they had, they couldn’t find me down here.

I positioned my foot and tried to stand, then screamed in agony. How was it possible for such a small bite to hurt like this?

My injured leg couldn’t hold weight. I knelt on the sandy ground and tried pulling myself along by the elbows. The world tilted and spun. When had I last eaten? I couldn’t remember.

My elbows buckled. I collapsed to the desert floor with a strangled gasp and rolled over to face the blood red moon. “Help,” I called out again. Nothing.

It was ironic. The empress had tried to have me killed several times in the past weeks, and I’d survived the desert heat for days with no food or water—only to succumb to a pair of sharp fangs. Tali would find it funny, I was sure. She’d lived just like the bomb that had taken her life, torridly and explosively. She’d managed to die twice. Not many people could say that.

My leg was stiff and swollen now. Even moving it would be excruciating, much less trying to walk on it. The molten fire had already begun to move up the veins in my leg.

I lay on my back, facing the navy-blue sky and letting the heat from the desert floor burn through my clothes. Purple clouds floated lazily by. Puffy, rainless.

It was a shame that I’d never gotten the chance to feel snow on my skin. The mountains had snow in winter. Vance had described it to me once. I wondered if the moon looked red from the mountains as well. The sad thing was, he’d probably be happy to find out I was gone. He had come back for me, admitted his feelings and opened his heart, and I’d rejected him. I deserved this.

A thought swirled in my head and began to scream through the haze.
Don’t you dare give up.
It sounded a lot like Tali.

“Are you happy now?” I yelled at the moon, hoping the fates were listening. My voice sounded like a croak. I tried to lick my lips, but my tongue felt like sandpaper on my sunburned mouth. Not that it mattered now. “I’ve already lost everything. Guess that wasn’t enough for you.”

I heard rustling in the gravel, and the hot, dry wind seemed to pick up a little.

“I didn’t even want the throne,” I muttered. “Never asked for it, you know. I just want—” Pause. It was hard to say what I wanted now. My dreams were a series of images, fleeting wishes no more real than puddles of water in the desert. Peace. A new life, far from NORA. One last day with Vance. A chance to tell him I felt the same way.

My body sunk deeper into the hard ground. My feverish accusations had taken all that I had left. Consciousness flickered like a broken transmission. Snake. Strangers speaking in gibberish. Dresden’s blue eyes flashing in anger. The stone Vance left behind inviting me to join him. My mother choosing to run. Always running.

Can’t go back.

“Somebody help,” I whispered.

The last thing I saw was a shadow above my head. A man. I tried to focus, to see if it was Dresden or Vance, but then the darkness claimed me.

I stood at the ridge, awed by the sight below. Dumbfounded was a better word. Even Anton, my former best friend-turned-captor, paused next to me and gave a low whistle. I’d seen plenty of settlements as the son of a clan leader, usually hidden in low valleys or nestled protectively on high peaks. But I’d never seen a camouflage screen this large before. These settlers had mastered the art of hiding.

From higher up, the mountain peak had looked like every other, carpeted with lush green trees. But as we drew nearer, the view had shimmered unsteadily. Now I saw the mountain for what it really was—the walls of a funnel-shaped valley.

And there was a city nestled inside.

Structures were cut into the valley walls, and a long road wound from top to bottom. No, not one road. There were three different trails, all switchbacks. Probably so the settlers wouldn’t have to circle the entire valley a dozen times to reach their destinations. The buildings were clumped together, mostly along the eastern wall, leaving the western side for hundreds of terraces full of green plants. Water the same gray as the sky filled the very bottom. A slightly higher muddy line revealed where the water had once been. It was down to nearly half that. They were having water issues here as well.

“Brilliant,” Anton breathed. Like me, Anton hadn’t bothered to shave on our journey, and his beard grew in ridiculous tufts around his chin. I still couldn’t figure out why he’d been assigned to lead me and a bunch of men twice our age. “How did they do that? It looks like a regular mountain from above.”

“Laser technology,” a voice said.

Anton jumped in surprise as we turned toward the trailhead. A clean-shaven bald man with Asian features stood with his hands at his sides. I hadn’t heard him approach. He inclined his head. “Welcome to Blackfell, the last official refugee camp in America. I am Ju-Long.”

Anton stepped forward. “I’m Anton, and this is the prisoner, Vance.” Newell, the man to my right, cleared his throat. Anton caught his meaning and added, “My men also seek asylum.”

Ju-Long gave a slight bow. “You are all welcome, so long as you follow our laws.”

“Is this one of the original postwar settlements?” I asked.

Ju-Long’s eyes flicked immediately to the scar on my forehead. I’d had the implant removed before turning myself in weeks before. “The prisoner will have many questions,” he said, “most of which I am not permitted to answer. But, yes, it is.”

“What about heat-seeking tech? A camouflage screen wouldn’t stop sensors from finding signs of life here.”

“Shut up, Vance,” Anton said. “None of that matters to you.”

Ju-Long still watched me, expressionless. “You worry for the safety of your people.”

I shook my head. “I worry for everyone. If NORA decides to follow us—”

“—they will meet the same fate as every other attacker,” Ju-Long cut in. “You mention Old American technology. We have a few surprises of our own.” He pointed at something near the top of the ridge. I squinted. There was a structure there with a needle of some kind pointing upward.

“Antiaircraft gun?” I asked. I’d never seen one before, but it made sense. A quick search of the ridge revealed three more, all stationed like quarters of a clock.

“Brought in all the way from the Eastern Continental Alliance,” he said. “We don’t rely on the rusty old American weaponry. Too many people rely on us for protection. We cannot allow for error.”

“The ECA,” I repeated. I’d never even heard the term before. “That’s where you’re from?”

His gaze turned inward, and a slight smile graced his mouth. “We keep our people safe here. That is all you need to know. As for you, it took much debating among the assembly to allow you entrance, but our governor insisted that you have a fair trial.”

I froze. “I’m here to answer to my clan. Not your governor.”

“As your people are now citizens of Blackfell, you will be held accountable for our laws. The assembly will decide your fate.”

“We don’t need your assembly to intercede.”

His lips thinned as his polite smile tightened. “This was the condition Rutner agreed to when your people were taken in.”

Rutner. My father’s trusted friend and counselor. He had negotiated with me on our clan’s behalf weeks before. Our arrangement had been simple: my clan’s help getting Treena on the throne in exchange for their freedom—and a trial for my crimes. Like a fool, I’d agreed, intending to be miles away before they came for me. That had been before Mills shot off a missile and destroyed the capital city square, trying to take out the entire NORA government. Only Treena and a few stragglers had survived.

I still remembered how she looked the day I left the hospital—her eyelashes long and dark against her cheeks, her skin mottled with bruises and cuts, her lips full and soft. It was hard to accept that she wasn’t mine. Treena had gone back to her boyfriend, Bike Boy. Her choice.

I shook myself back to the present. Of course Rutner had been the one to find this place. But it wasn’t like him to hand our clan over so easily and quickly. They could be cannibals for all we knew. I shook my head. “I don’t really care what Rutner arranged. This is a private matter.”

A dangerous glint appeared in the man’s black eyes. “I’m afraid it is not up for negotiation—”

“Uh, you know what?” Anton interrupted, drawing up to his full height. “We’ve been traveling for weeks. We’re very eager to deliver the prisoner, so if you could please show us the way, that would be great.”

Ju-Long met my glare with one of his own. “Follow me.”

The head of the trail was marked with a symbol carved into a smooth gray rock. It was rough, and few people would have recognized it, but I knew exactly what it was. I’d seen several of them on our journey. Two squiggly lines with a square in the center—an iron belt. A sign that Iron Belt Hawking’s clan was gathering again, and a beacon showing the way.

Anton’s thugs practically ran over me in their eagerness to get down the trail. I couldn’t blame the men for their impatience. Their families were probably already here. Hands grasped my shoulders and pushed me along as I picked my way slowly down the dusty dirt path. It wasn’t as steep as I would have expected and definitely wasn’t as worn as it should be with thousands of settlers living below. Maybe these people never left the valley.

“The prison is near the lake, Hawking,” Ju-Long said. “It is a long walk, but I believe you will find your quarters quite comfortable.” I gave him a sideways look. Despite the uneven, sloped trail, he walked purposefully and with a confident grace.

“How many NORA refugees have you received?” Anton asked.

“Eight hundred are reported to have left NORA’s borders,” Ju-Long replied evenly, “but less than six hundred have arrived. It is my understanding that nearly all your clan is here.”

What was left of it, anyway. The Hawking clan was as dead as my father. We were just refugees now, searching for a home. It seemed Rutner had found us one, strange as it was.

Soon we came to a set of stone steps that cut into the winding trail and led straight down about a hundred yards. The stairway was barely wide enough for two people.

Anton stood aside and motioned for me to go first. I smirked at the realization that he still didn’t trust me. One well-placed kick, and he’d go flying. It was tempting.

When we reached the bottom, the staring began.

At first the settlers watched us pass with curiosity. They avoided Ju-Long’s gaze, looking way with discomfort when he passed. Most of the settlers wore colorful, patterned shirts and trousers, men and women alike. A few noticed the chains on my wrists and whispered amongst themselves. Nobody looked familiar. If my people were here, they were hiding themselves well.

It wasn’t until we were nearly to the gray lake at the very bottom of the funnel that I found them.

Hundreds of shacks constructed mostly from muddy wood and tattered cloth dotted the edges of the water. Skinny human figures with faded, muddy NORA uniforms sat nearby. It didn’t take them long to recognize me.

“The Hawking boy,” someone called out. “He’s actually here!”

“Hey, Fauna, look who just arrived,” the nearest man drawled. My head jerked up. I’d know that voice anywhere. Carter Holladay, a good friend of my father’s. Holladay approached, making Anton take two steps backward to avoid getting stepped on.

“Didn’t think you’d show, boy,” he said, stabbing me in the chest with a fat finger. “You’ve no idea how happy I am that you’re here.”

Anton eyed me. “Vance is pretty happy too. He’s been telling me how excited he is to pay his debt to the Hawking clan.”