Pahnyakin Rising (16 page)

Pierre’s repetition of words shifted to rapid Pahnyakin clicks.

Dodge grew unsettled.  Dresden could feel his pulse throbbing in his fingers as he gripped her hand.  It accelerated with each second of the bird’s noise.  He sighed loudly.

“That damn bird,” he muttered. 

Dresden’s surroundings fell dark again and she felt at peace in the black void in her mind.  There were no demands there, no pain, and no tears.  Maybe it was heaven.  Maybe her life was hell.   

“You can’t sleep,” Dodge pleaded.  “You have to stay up a while.  Come on, Dresden, don’t do this.”

Dodge violently shook Dresden’s upper arm.  “Wake up, Dresden.”

Pierre’s clicks sped up and grew in volume until the living room sounded like a factory filled with running machines.

“Pierre,” Dodge shouted, “shut up!”

In Dresden’s darkness, she stood with her arms at her sides and her back straight.  She meditated, taking deep breaths before releasing them and any negativity in her mind.  She was strong, smart—she was everything she ever wanted to be and nothing at the same time.  She was weightless and free of regrets. 

Dresden’s lips curled upward and she extended her arms in the dark, graciously accepting a silent invitation to stay in that moment forever. 

“Hey,” Dodge urged.  “Get up.”

The teenager opened her eyes to the darkness and saw her snow white macaw with blue-tipped wings perched on an invisible rod.  He paced horizontally in front of her and with each step a click escaped from his beak.

His clicks were elongated and decelerated. 

Dresden cocked her head to the side and listened intently to the bird’s noises. 

The clicks were repetitive and slower with each reverb. 

Pierre opened his wings and his twiggy legs stretched until they reached the floor of nothingness.  They expanded in width and the grayness faded as metal plating replaced his scaly talons.  His wings thinned until he had arms with pincers as hands.  Dresden blinked and before her stood a Pahnyakin Uni.  It produced clicks from under its thick visor, the same repetition Pierre squawked.

“You know this,” the Uni encouraged her in Dodge’s voice.  “Don’t you remember?”

“Damn it, Dresden, wake up,” Dodge begged in a cracked voice.

“Pierre,” she murmured aloud.

Dodge breathed a sigh of relief.  “I know.  I can’t stop him right now.  We have to keep you awake.”

The bird’s cage was rattling as he threw a fit inside.

Dresden attempted to shake her head.  She cried out in pain.

“Don’t try to get up,” Dodge instructed.  “Just stay awake and talk to me.”

“Pierre.  I need Pierre.”

“No, just try to rest.  Just ignore him.  He’ll stop eventually.”

Tears of frustration formed in Dresden’s storm cloud eyes.  “I need him now.  He’s talking.”

“He’s
clicking,
” corrected Dodge. 

“It’s Morse code,” she uttered.  She closed her eyes and breathed heavily. 

“No,” he said softly.  “Dresden, you’re just confused right now.”

“Chemehuevi,” she argued.  “It’s Chemehuevi as Morse code.  Get Pierre.”

“I don’t know what that means, Dres,” he said with a sigh.

“It’s a dead language.  Nobody can speak it anymore.  They all died.”

Dodge’s thick lips were pursed to protest, but Dresden’s look was insistent and she seemed truly sure of herself since she had first returned to Easton.  He released her hand and stood.  She closed her eyes again and he was instantly filled with regret for agreeing to leave her side.  He hurried down the hall and entered the storage room. 

His presence did not calm Dresden’s bird.  Instead, Pierre thrashed about and, in between his piercing squawks, grabbed the wire cage bars with his beak and pulled, as if attempting to break himself out of the jail in which he was enclosed.

Dodge opened the cage door and extended his right arm.  “Come here, Pierre.”

The bird waved his head as if silently refusing the man’s request. 

“Pierre,” he repeated impatiently, “let’s go.”

Reluctantly, the bird climbed on the man’s extended arm.  His talons clung to Dodge’s sweater sleeve.  He hung on for dear life as Dodge scurried back to the living room.

“I have him, Dres.”

Her eyes were closed and her chest was barely lifting up and down.

“Crap,” he hissed. 

Dodge set Pierre on the sofa’s armrest and scrambled to Dresden’s side.  He shook her shoulders until her eyes opened.

“The bird,” he said.  “I brought him out.”

Pierre bobbed his head and pranced proudly at the end of the couch.  He let out a series of clicks that resonated in his owner’s mind as echoes of full words.

She attempted to sit up.

“No,” Dodge said.  “You don’t need to be moving around.”

“I need something to write with,” she grunted.  Her neck popped with the turn of her head.  She lifted her index finger towards a broken pencil on the opposite side of the room. 

“Give me that,” she ordered softly.  “And paper.  I need paper.  My head, it hurts.  I can’t keep up.”

Dodge turned his head until he could spot the pencil on the floor.  He quickly grabbed it and gazed around the room for some type of paper for Dresden to use.  He spotted an old crossword puzzle book and folded its cover backward to create a fresh slate. 

“Here,” he said, handing Dresden the items. 

Dresden’s hand trembled as she jotted down each letter Pierre clicked. 

“Slow down,” she complained. 

But the bird did not.

Dresden’s writing came to a halt soon after Pierre’s clicking ended. 

“What is he saying?” Dodge asked. 

Dresden stared in horrific awe at her messy letters.

“Dresden,” Dodge prodded, “what does it say?”

The teenager let the pencil fall from between her fingers.  It rolled down the front of the couch and landed next to Dodge’s knees.  She handed Dodge what hope she had for ever returning to her old life when she handed him the book.  She knew she could never leave this place. 

Dodge looked to the paper.

‘KILL THE WEAK.  HERD THE STRONG.’

“They’re going to kill everyone,” Dresden mumbled.  “I’m going to die here.”

“You’re not going to die.  I won’t let that happen.”

Dresden’s head was cloudy as she propelled herself upward.  Vomit crept up her throat but slid back down.  “You can’t stop them.  Has anyone even come close?”

“You.”

“I don’t believe that.  You’re telling me the military couldn’t stop them?”

He glanced downward.  “Military’s gone.  Some people like to think that there’s one out there somewhere, like some base that was left untouched-almost like a heaven in the center of hell.  But I don’t think there is.  It’s just people clinging to their last bit of hope, you know?”

“Do you have hope?”

“I have you.  That gives me hope.”

If her eyes were not burning and if she could move one inch of her body without inflicting pain on herself, she would have rolled her eyes. 

“There’s nothing special about me.  I don’t know why everyone thinks there is.”

Dodge stood and sat on the empty cushion to her left.  He lifted his pillow and rested it on his lap.  Dodge patted the pillowcase and motioned for Dresden to lie down, and she did.  She turned on her right side and tried to hide her agony as he ran his fingers through her hair.

“Have you not noticed how far you’ve come since you’ve been here?” he asked.  “You have so many natural talents that were hidden away for so long.  It’s like you just needed a little push.”

“It hurts.  I’m so tired.”

“I know.  But you can’t sleep yet.  Charlie says you have a pretty bad concussion.”

Dresden opened her mouth to yawn but stretching her jaw left her in excruciating pain.  Tears formed in her eyes and she snapped her teeth together. 

“Were we really married, in your time?”

Dodge took a deep breath. 

“Yeah, we were.”

“Why?”

He couldn’t help but to chuckle.  “Why what?”

“Why did we get married?  Was it because we just knew each other or what?”

“I loved you,” he scoffed.  “And I’d like to think you really loved me, too.  I mean, if you only married me because
we knew each other,
you did a pretty good job of hiding it.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.  I’m just trying to figure out what happened here.”

“I know.”

“Is that why you’re doing all of this, helping me?”

“Nope.  I’m helping you because I know this town needs you.”

“And that’s all?”

“No.”

She waited for him to elaborate, but he did not.  He hoped she knew what he meant without having to make her feel more uncomfortable than she already was. 

At the end of the couch, Pierre whistled.

“How much of their language do you think he can repeat?” Dodge asked.

“Don’t know,” Dresden replied dryly.  “What would really be helpful is getting two Pahnyakins together.”

Dodge remained mum and watched as Dresden’s eyes lit up like stars in a velvety sky.  It was a look he had witnessed a million times since their childhood.  It was always followed by a wild idea that was sure to be outrageous. 

“No,” he said firmly.  “It’s too dangerous and you’re never going to get anyone to do it.”

“But if I could just hear what they say to each other…” she attempted to reason.

“You’re worried about dying here, but look at you, Dresden,” Dodge said gruffly.  “You’re covered in bruises, are on the couch with a
brain injury,
are already distrusted by almost everyone here—and now you want to bring two of those things back here?  If you do that, you’ll be out of here quicker than you can blink.”

She bit her lip.

“Then we’ll bait them.”

He opened his mouth to speak and flung his head from side to side in stupor.  “What?”

“You said you have a radio, right?  And there are no humans on the radio, just Pahnyakins?”

Dodge nodded.  “But how is that going to help?”

“We’ll send out a fake message on the radio.  We’ll say we’re going to meet survivors at a certain spot.  So then we know there will be a Pahnyakin at that spot.  We can be waiting for them.”

“That is such a stupid idea,” he said curtly. 

“How is that stupid?” she shot back.  She could almost feel her brain vibrate as she raised her voice.

“How is it not?  Do you really think they’ll send one or two out to break up a group of us?  No.  They’ll send one of their armies and we’ll be screwed.”

“I need to know what they’re saying.”

Dodge hesitated. 

“I may be able to convince some of the guys to bring back one, for the arena.  It’ll be risky.”

“We need two.  They’ll talk to each other.”

“What makes you think they’ll say anything important?”

“They let me live, Dodge.  You can’t tell me you don’t think they’re going to say something important.”

“And what am I supposed to tell these people?  Want me to say, ‘
Oh, I know you guys already think she was sent to destroy us, and yeah, there was an attack on us pretty soon after she got back…But trust me: this has nothing to do with that
.’ Is that what I should tell them?”

Dresden moved closer to Dodge’s abdomen.  His stomach gurgled but even that brought her comfort in some odd way.  She reached for his right arm and draped it over her shoulder. 

“Tell them I’ll fight them.  They’ll bring them back then, won’t they?”

Dodge jerked his arm from her body.  “Are you crazy?” he shouted.  “I mean, my god, Dresden…You’re practically black and blue, and you want to go in the cage with
two
of them when
one
had you on your knees crying?”

“I don’t know why you’re so mad right now.  It’s the only way I know to make it work.”

“I’m mad,” he explained heatedly, “because you keep throwing yourself in the fire.  A year ago you were babbling about electricity and power and led a bunch of people to death—including yourself—and now you want to do that again?  You’re asking
me
to go through this again, when some miracle brought you back?   You need to stop and think about what you’re doing, what you’re asking me to do.  What happens if you die out there?  You know I’m not going to be able to step in this time.  You
know
that.  Nobody’s going to let me get close to that arena.”

“You know what?” she asked bitterly.  “You won’t have to.  I’ll do it on my own.”

“I’m not asking anyone to bring them back here if this is what you have planned.”

Dresden glared at Dodge and he immediately regretted his words.