The Lost Code (16 page)

“You can try,” I said back. I still had no idea what this predator-prey game was, but now wasn’t the time.

“Good night, Owen.”

“Good night, Lilly.”

I headed for my cabin, my steps getting heavy, bare feet swishing in the dew-soaked grass. I was so shot from these nights. I needed my three hours of sleep desperately, or more like three days of sleep, but I ended up walking slow, taking my time, through a dawn southeasterly wind that felt like four knots and rising steadily. My mind had put aside thoughts of gills, secret projects, and sirens. All seemed less important, less real than Tiger Lilly and her secret island. The night felt like it had gone by so fast, yet every second of it was bright and burned into my mind, and I felt sure I would never forget any of it, almost like I’d left some part of me back there on that island, a piece carved out that wouldn’t travel into whatever came next. It would just stay behind, living that night over and over.

“THERE ARE THREE GROUPS IN THIS GAME OF
predator-prey.”

Sleep was too short. The sun seemed too bright, the air too humid.

“The following cabins will be the herbivores: Spider Monkeys, Lemurs, Koalas, and Tree Frogs.”

I had stumbled through breakfast, mostly head down. The bug juice, aqua-blue today, tasted like mint and the edges of plastic cups. I forgot to turn it down. There was a light fuzz to all of my movements. My shoulders were finally starting to ache with soreness from the hours of swimming.

“Spotted Hyenas and Arctic Foxes will be the omnivores. In the food web, you are the equivalent of skunks or raccoons.”

“You’re the skunks!” Paige shouted at us, her face painted with stripes of green and black. The Arctic Foxes cheered.

I glanced back to where the Foxes were sitting, and pairs of eyes immediately sharpened into glares at me. Mina had thought I was going to show up for polar bear swim. After the night with Lilly, it had never even crossed my mind. Now, I had jerk status with the whole Fox cabin. Mina leaned over to another girl, and they whispered and laughed and glared some more. Vaguely, my foggy brain considered that I’d never been at this level before, from unnoticed up to noticed and now to hated, but I was too tired to care.

“The CITs will be the carnivores, top predators. They are already inside the Preserve.”

Everyone buzzed around me. We were gathered on the far side of the boathouse, on a slope of ground with log-bench seats, like a little amphitheater. Behind the small stage where Claudia stood, the steel mesh net rose to the ceiling, enclosing the Preserve, a relic forest from before the Rise, its trees thicker and darker than in the rest of Eden, mysterious.

Inside were species of birds, mammals, and reptiles that existed nowhere else in this area anymore. There were some enclosures inside that were more like a zoo: with cougars, black bears, and coyotes. The large bird I’d seen the other morning had been confirmed as a robot. Apparently, years ago there had been a bald eagle, but it had been too sensitive even to the inside rad levels.

The Preserve was off-limits to the campers except for naturalist walks now and then, and for this: the two-hour game of predator-prey.

“In order to win,” said Claudia, “you have to survive and increase your population. At the end of the game, the teams in each category with the largest viable populations are the winners. Herbivores, you have your teams of ten.”

The younger cabins all erupted in cheers. All the teams had painted their faces like their cabin animal: little gaggles of whiskered creatures. Even though the youngest cabins, the Pandas and the Ocelots, didn’t get to play, these midlevel kids still looked young, like fresh meat.

Our cabin was split into two teams of five. I’d opened my eyes to everyone already up and working silently on face painting, but unlike the little kids’, ours didn’t look like animal designs so much as camouflage war paint: blotches of greens, smears of black, browns, grays. I hadn’t had time to put any on.

“Herbivores,” Claudia continued, “let’s see. . . .” She glanced back at the pad in her hand, flicking through instructions. Apparently Paul would usually do this, but Claudia said he was tied up in another meeting this morning. “Your goal is to collect the food tokens that are hidden throughout the Preserve, and to avoid being eaten by the omnivores and carnivores. Every twenty food coins you collect equals one new population member. At the end of the game, the herbivore team with the largest population wins. You will be hunted by the omnivores and carnivores. There are three safe zones within the Preserve, but if your team gets caught, you must hand over the appropriate food and armbands, and return to the gate. After ten minutes, you’ll then be allowed to reenter to start again. Remember, stay with your counselors at all times. Listen for the horn at the two-hour mark. That ends the game. Ready?”

The younger kids all cheered again, then moved toward the entrance, chattering excitedly in their little herbivore clusters. Their counselors had painted faces, too.

“Enter!” said Claudia.

A counselor pulled open the squeaky metal-framed door, and the teams entered one at a time. As they stepped into the shadows, their cheers quieted, their necks craning to look up at the high trees.

“See you soon, snackies!” Leech called after them. A few girls in the last group looked back with wide, prey-like eyes.

“Okay, omnivores,” said Claudia, turning to us and the Arctic Foxes. “Your goal is to gather food by collecting food tokens and hunting the herbivores. Each time you catch an herbivore team, you can take thirty food—”

“I thought it was forty?” Leech interrupted.

Claudia looked flustered as she checked her notes. “Yes, okay, yes, that’s right . . . forty food credits per member of your group. If the herbivores don’t have enough food, you take their armbands instead. Armbands are worth twenty. For each hundred credits you collect as a team, that equals a new omnivore. The team with the largest population at game’s end wins.”

“That will be us,” Leech announced loudly. Todd had drawn names from a hat to make the teams. I was on Leech’s.

“But remember,” Claudia continued, “the carnivores will be after you.”

As Claudia said this, I pictured Lilly somewhere in those dark woods, hunting me, and felt a twist of excitement that made it hard to keep still in my seat.

“And there are no safe zones for omnivores. If they catch you, you must give them one hundred credits each in the form of your food supply or armbands, then return to the entrance and wait twenty minutes before entering again. Obviously if you are captured after the one-hour-and-forty-minute mark, you’re out. Your counselors will be patrolling the Preserve to assist with questions and in case there are any injuries. Remember, as senior campers, you have earned the privilege of acting as your own leaders during the game. Please don’t abuse that tradition.

“And one last thing,” said Claudia. “Teams should not leave the trail system except to hide, and then hiding is only permitted within ten meters of a trail. Any team spotted cutting between trails will be sent out to restart. Omnivores, are you ready?”

We shouted snarling cheers, and of course we were drowned out by the Arctic Foxes.

“Survival of the fittest, of the strongest and most cunning,” said Claudia, reading from the pad. Paul probably would have been excited about that line. “Okay, let the contest begin.” She waved us toward the door.

We passed through the entrance. Three paths branched out into the dark woods.

“Have fun getting chomped, everybody!” Leech shouted. Our team also had Noah, Xane, and Beaker.

“You’re going down, skunks!” called Paige as her group split off to the right.

“We’re heading left,” Leech announced. “Nobody follow us.”

“Who’d want to when you have
him
on your team?” Paige pointed at me with her chin.

We turned, and the other groups headed off in separate directions.

“Dude, that’s aMAZing!” said Xane, punching my shoulder. “They HATE you!” He seemed impressed.

“Yeah,” I muttered.

“Way to blow your chance, Turtle,” said Leech.

I was about to respond when, behind us, an air horn sounded.

“Showtime,” said Leech.

Quiet closed in on us. We walked in a cluster up the wide dirt path, peering left and right into the muted world between the trees.

“Shut
up
, Beaker!” Noah hissed.

“What, I didn’t do anything!” Beaker replied, pulling his fingers away from his mouth, where he’d been chewing his nails.

The trail crested a small rise. At the top, Leech immediately turned and left the trail, darting between the trees along the ridgeline. Noah followed.

“Where are you going?” Beaker called. He stood beside me on the trail’s edge.

“We’re going this way,” Leech said like it was obvious.

“But we’re not supposed to leave the trails,” said Beaker, and I hated how he sounded like such a wimp, even though I felt the same way.

“Hey!” Leech snapped. “Who’s played this game three times before and won twice? This was the plan we made this morning.”

“Take the high ground to gain surprise,” Noah added, as if this cleared anything up.

“What plan?” I asked.

“You wouldn’t know,” said Leech, “would you, freak boy?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means.” Leech turned and kept going.

“They didn’t tell me the
plan
either,” said Beaker.

But I was busy trying to contain the squeeze of adrenaline spreading in my gut. Leech knew about me. Freak boy. What else could that mean but gills?

“I’m going,” said Xane, almost like he was apologizing, and followed after Leech.

“What should we do?” Beaker asked me.

I looked up and down the path we were on, then at Leech’s, Noah’s, and Xane’s silhouettes, then at Beaker, who was apparently going to do whatever I did. Great. “Let’s stay with them,” I finally said. We started into the woods.

We walked through the shadows, our feet making light scuffs in the pine needles as we followed the line of crumbled rock along the ridge. The tree canopy was thick above us. Things scurried in the foliage, and I saw flashes of birds and little creatures. The air was still, heavy, and smelled like baked goods and soil. I felt a slick coating of sweat forming on my skin.

We heard distant squealing, hollow foot crashes echoing in the underbrush, then a high-pitched wail, a battle cry by one of the Arctic Foxes as they pursued their first prey. I peered through the gloomy labyrinth of trees, wondering where Lilly might be.

Beaker and I caught up as the others descended into a little gully that held a pocket of cooler air. A stream gurgled down the center, cascading over smooth rocks. There was a path running alongside it. The flats on either side were coated with furry moss.

“See anything?” Noah whispered.

Leech peered up and downstream.

“What are you looking for?” I asked.

“Food tokens, obviously,” Leech muttered. “There’s always some hidden around this spot.”

“Here they are!” Beaker called. He was crouched by a boulder, pointing underneath.

“Sweet!” Leech ran over and elbowed Beaker out of the way. He picked up the palm-sized stack of wooden coins. There were five disks, four painted blue and one black. They were each marked with the number twenty.

“Why is one black?” asked Beaker.

“That’s the food carrying toxic chemicals,” said Leech. “We don’t have to worry about those, but if the carnivores get too many, it kills them off. Here, you can have the toxic one, Beaky.” He handed a blue each to Noah and Xane, and stuck the other two in his pocket.

I watched this, and almost thought about not saying anything, but then I did. “Hey, what about mine?”

“No food for you at this stop, mutant Turtle.” He smiled at me like it was a challenge. “Okay, let’s keep moving up the hill—”

But no. I felt my nerves and anger twisting together. As he passed me, I pushed his shoulder. “Give me one of the tokens.”

He glanced at me but kept walking. Just smirked.

Lack of sleep, I would think later, lack of sleep clouding my judgment was the reason for what I did, because I just ran at him. Slammed both hands against his back. The blow was harder than I’d meant, or maybe not. Leech’s head whiplashed and he toppled over, hitting the ground with his face first. He rolled over holding his nose. “Guh!” He pulled his hand away and there was a smear of blood.

“Dude!” Xane shouted.

“Whoa,” said Beaker softly, like I had just performed some kind of sorcery.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, but then I hated that I’d said that, almost like some little unconscious betrayal. I didn’t need to be sorry. I wasn’t. Though I hadn’t meant for there to be blood.

Noah glared at me. “What’s your problem?” He watched Leech like he was waiting for instructions.

Leech surveyed the blood on his hand. Looked up at me. “You want to die, huh? That’s what this is?”

“Give me a food token,” I said, trying to keep the shaking out of my voice, the pathetic fear of this little kid, but I had changed the game just now. It was something I’d never done before. My heart was slamming against my ribs. My fingers tingled as adrenaline coursed through my body.

And then Leech was up, springing to his feet and coming at me, and I had no idea what to do, how to move or defend myself. All I did was put out my arms, but he barreled through them and crushed against my chest. I staggered back. One arm was around me but the other clawed at my neck, his long nails scratching. Was he going for my gills? His fingers slipped on the slick of NoRad I had there. I grabbed his T-shirt and whipped him to my side, spinning away, his shirt tearing at the collar.

He turned toward me again. His face was beet red. Blood had streaked from his nose down over his mouth and it splattered when he spoke. “So this is it, huh?” Drops rained down onto his shirt. “This is where you think you make your big move?”

I could feel my face burning too, my chest and neck aching, but at the same time, what he’d said had thrown me off. What big move was I making? I wondered if this had something to do with Paul. Was Leech jealous because Paul seemed so interested in me? He almost sounded like Evan had the night before.

Leech stepped toward me. “I’m gonna take you out, Turtle.” His eyes narrowed. We were about to become savages, and it sounded fine to me. I’d had enough.

“Try it,” I said.

“Whoa, someone’s coming!” Xane hissed.

Then we all heard it. The top pitches of a group of voices, carrying over the sound of the stream.

Leech looked over his shoulder. “From down there,” he whispered. “Hide.” And just like that, our battle was suspended.

We all scattered to different rocks and dropped to the moss. I lay on the cool carpet, springy and soft and sweet-smelling. Dampness on my bare knees and elbows. I was still breathing out of control. My side ached, my shoulder too, but I was glad to have the confrontation over, glad to just be back in the game.