Root (47 page)

“
Oh dear,” said Lille, sitting up in
bed across the room. “This is not good news.”

I barged in, sat down heavily at their little,
rickety table, and put my head down atop my folded arms. It looked
like they had been hard at work tidying up their little cabin. The
walls looked brighter and smoother. Even the little hollow outside
the window was deeper and wider and had been trimmed of stray
roots.

Bern reached over to a heap of clothes and
shook out a pair of grey woolen trousers way too short and too big
in the waist. “Here, have some pants.” He handed them over. “So
tell us, what’s up, boy? Did you found your way off the mountain?
Yes, I suppose you have, or else you wouldn’t be here. So what new
tragedy has befallen you?”

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want to
say anything. I didn’t even want to be here. The belly of a Reaper
was beginning to sound more appealing than rattling off my travails
to these two. I had not a smidgeon of hope left inside me,
especially not if those bounty hunters had me pegged at Inverness
Station.

“
Cat got your tongue?” said
Bern.

“
Look at that long face,” said
Lille, sliding off the bed. “And he’s so pale. James, tell us
what’s wrong?”

“
I found Karla.”

“
Excellent! And…? Is she
well?”

“
She’s fine.”

“
Wonderful!” said Bern.

“
James, that’s brilliant news! But
then … what are you doing here?”

“
She ditched me,” I said. “Told me
to go away and never come back. She wants nothing to do with me.
Ever. Forever.”

Lille crinkled her eyes and smirked. “You
didn’t actually believe her, did you?”

“
What do you mean?”

“
Well, just because she said it,
doesn’t mean she actually meant it.”

“
She sounded pretty serious to
me.”

Lille’s eyes flitted around the room. “Well, I
wouldn’t dwell. There’s more to play out, I’m sure.”

“
Say what?”

“
There are things one must do on the
other side to persist here in Root. It’s complicated, James. And
sometimes requires great skills of persuasion. I’m sure you know
what I’m talking about, even if the particulars elude
you.”

I had no idea what to make of what she had
said. I refused to find any hope in it. Hope would only got me into
trouble.

“
I’m ready for death,” I said,
quietly. “Ready to blink out … like a candle.”

“
Pfft! Aren’t we all?” said Bern.
“That’s not exactly a new sentiment around these parts.”

“
It’s just an expression, I’m sure,”
said Lille. “Let the boy express his emotions. It’s healthy for
him.”

I slapped my fist down on the table, rattling
the teacups. “No. You don’t understand. It’s really going to happen
this time. But it’s okay. I’ve got bounty hunters closing in on me.
There’s nothing to be done. They followed me to Pittsburgh, and
then to DC. They had people in Rome, London and Scotland after
me.”

“
Bounty hunters?” said
Lille.

“
If it’s not hypothermia it’s
assassins with this one,” said Bern. “Who needs
suicide?”

“
It’s a long story,” I
said.

“
Did you run afoul of the law,
son?”

“
Bern, don’t pry. What happens on
the other side, stays on the other side.”

“
It’s okay,” I said. “They’re drug
traffickers. I ran off with their shipment … and uh … tried to sell
it.”

“
Oh my,” said Lille.

“
And now they want to … I don’t know
… teach me a lesson? Make me an example? Kill me? Something like
that.”

“
Oh my, oh my.”

“
And now there’s a guy … I think
he’s one of them … in the train station with me in Inverness. He’s
making a call to someone, but he’s watching me closely. I’m just
sitting on a bench. It’s only a matter of time before he confirms
who Iam and comes after me.”

“
Are you sure about this?” said
Lille. “You’re not just being paranoid?”

“
Next time you fade, boy … you run!
Leave the station. Hop a train. Go somewhere, anywhere, just make
yourself scarce. Dying at the hands of these thugs is no way to
pass out of the world, I assure you.”

“
I don’t really care
anymore.”

Lille stared at me a little too intensely for
comfort.

“
I don’t think that’s entirely
true,” she said. “I detect a mite of hope left in you. The fact
that you’re lucid … that you’re even bothering to speak to us …
that tells me you haven’t given up entirely. Believe me, we’ve seen
plenty of hopeless cases in these tunnels. We know what hopeless
looks like … and you’re not it.”

“
Not to mention … he lands at our
doorstep. It’s quite flattering actually. I didn’t know you thought
that way about us.” Bern’s eyes grew red and moist.

I shrugged. “Believe what you want, but I feel
nothing. Zippo. Nada.”

“
Because Karla dumped you …
supposedly,” said Lille.

“
Well … yeah.”

“
Hmm. I didn’t realize you two were
an item,” said Bern.

“
Bern, really? Are you that
dense?”

Bern squinted at me and looked back at Lille.
He picked his hat off a peg on the wall and rolled his fingers
around the brim.

“
What do you think Lille? Do you
detect some scheming here from Miss Karla? She’s always been quite
the accomplished surfer, that one. Emotional multitasking and
such.”

“
If she believes he’s acceded to her
request, why not?”

“
What the heck are you guys talking
about?”

“
Miss Karla. She’s a schemer,” said
Bern. “Methinks we haven’t heard the last from her.”

I shook my head. “She sounded pretty serious
to me. She blamed me for not being able to help her
sister.”

“
Oh?”

“
Said I was the one keeping her out
of Root. Her sister … Isobel … she’s almost twelve and uh … having
a hard time of it … well, I don’t know all the details. I’m not
sure I want to know, but Karla’s freaking out that she’s gonna end
up here and she won’t be able to help her.”

“
Twelve, is she?” said Bern. “Coming
of age. Those first few times in Root are always the most
vulnerable and dangerous. As you can attest.”

“
So you see. It’s not about you,”
said Lille. “Once she eases her sister’s transition. There’ll be
room for you in her life again.”

“
But she says I kept her out of Root
by saying I’d go find her on the other side.”

“
Yes, but I’m sure it’s nothing
personal,” said Lille. “That girl’s not one to hold a
grudge.”

“
Ah … I think I see now,” said Bern.
“You disturbed her equilibrium. Gave her a bit of the old hope
thing that she wasn’t ready for.”

Lille rolled her eyes. “You’ll have to pardon
my partner. He’s a bit slow on the uptake.” Lille stood up and
slipped her feet into a pair of wooly slippers. “So, I have an
idea, until Karla finds her way here, why don’t we go out and do
the job for her? Do you happen to know what this Isobel looks
like?”

“
We’ve … never met.”

“
Can’t be that difficult,” said
Bern. “We just go pod to pod freeing girls who look like younger
versions of Karla.”

“
Not quite that simple, but … I’m
game,” said Lille, stretching. “I could use some fresh air … if
that’s what you call the miasma in those tunnels.”

“
At least there’s a breeze,” said
Bern. “It’s not all stagnant like here.”

“
I suppose a foul breeze is better
than none at all,” said Lille, fetching a dress and a fresh slip
from a rack behind the bed. “James, dear. Would you mind stepping
out while I change? Not that I’m prudish, I just don’t want to
frighten you.”

***

After patrolling the few tunnels I already
knew quite well and finding them devoid of souls, we moved out into
fresh territory, working our way outward and upward. The passages
were the quietest I had ever known them. Barely a rumble disturbed
the silence. It felt like the calm before a storm.

Bern and Lille might have only been after
Isobel, but I couldn’t help worry about Karla too. Despite all her
supposed toughness and scheming and skillful surfing, I could how
she might still get overwhelmed by stuff beyond her
control.

Even the best of surfers got wiped out now and
then by a rogue wave. I mean, it had happened to me when I had
backslid, not that I’m saying I’m much of a surfer. But why
couldn’t it happen to her? I couldn’t imagine the storm going on in
her brain with all those competing tensions. I understood Isobel
taking priority. Was it vain, though, thinking Karla might care for
me as much as I cared about her?

The image of Karla trapped and helpless in a
pod disturbed me immensely, even though I had sought that fate for
myself. It got me churning down those tunnels. Bern and Lille could
barely keep up.

“
Remember,” said Lille, calling out
to me. “In case we get separated. Never go left going
down.”

“
I thought you said never go
right.”

“
That’s going up. Down is
different.”

“
So what if I did go left? What
would I find?”

“
Forget about it. You don’t want to
know. It’s too horrible.”

We finally came across our first pod—a singlet
in a line of freshly chewed off stalks. I couldn’t tell if it was
newly appeared or simply passed over by a Reaper who had had its
fill and was saving it for later.

I stood beneath it and tried to make out the
shape of its occupant through the mesh, but the gaps were too
tight.

“
Isobel? Karla?”

There was no response.

As Bern and Lille hurried to catch up with me,
I extended my arm and pictured a can of night crawlers being dumped
on the ground. That image did the trick and then some. The pod
exploded, and its individual strands wriggled off in all
directions. The occupant, a bearded young man, landed hard on the
tunnel floor.

“
Oh my,” said Lille.

“
That’s the ticket, boy. Think like
a root.”

The young man lay there, trembling, his eyes
fearful.

“
Are you alright?”

He said nothing. He picked himself up, turned
away from us and strode off down the tunnel towards the far off
grumbling of the Reapers.

“
No! You don’t want to go that
way.”

He threw a quick glance back at me and picked
up his pace, disappeared around a bend in the tunnel.

“
Then again, maybe he does,” said
Bern.

“
Let him go,” said Lille. “Some
souls … are simply beyond charity. It’s a sad truth.”

We doubled back to a connector that attached
to a parallel tunnel system. The next passage was empty, devoid
even of nubs, but a foul smell and a trail of loose, whitish ooze
like snake feces was smeared along the walls. A Reaper had come
through recently.

I pried my fingers into a seam in the wall and
pushed through the matrix, hoping to locate a more fruitful tunnel.
The matrix was thicker and broader than any I had crossed
before.

Bern pinched his fingers around a root and
made it glow a bright salmon pink. “Be sure and mark your trail
son. Every tunnel you cross. Make sure you can find your way back
to us.”

As I pushed through the next wall, I could see
that I had hit the jackpot.

We had reached the Times Square of tunnels:
broad and garishly lit, with lights like stock tickers shuttling
down its length. Pods packed the ceiling, making it difficult to
walk through without bumping one’s head.

Even Bern and Lille were impressed once they
caught up with me.

“
Oh my Lord,” said Lille.

“
Son … we can’t possibly open every
pod. It’s a needle in a haystack proposition. Not to mention, it
will drive the Reapers into a frenzy to have so many souls
wandering free.”

“
I don’t care,” I said. “These
people deserve a chance … to reconsider their choices, at
least.

Bern leaned heavily on his cane, his face
pained. “I’m afraid I can’t go much further in my condition. The
aches in my legs … they’re simply too much to bear.”

Lille looked at him, worry creasing her brow.
“I’m sorry, James. But I’d better get him back to the cabin. We’ve
got more mending to do.”

“
Not a problem,” I said. “I can
handle this on my own.”

“
Well, don’t stray too far afield,”
she said.

“
And remember to mark your trails,”
said Bern as Lille helped him back into the seam. “We’re expecting
you for dinner, if not tea time.”

I touched a strand and made it glow the angry
orange-red of an iron rod in a smithy’s forge, ready to be hammered
into a sword.