The Moon Dwellers (39 page)

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Authors: David Estes

Tags: #Speculative Fiction

BOOK: The Moon Dwellers
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Roc stirs in his sleep and then opens
one eye, clamping it shut again immediately when the light hit
s it.
He raises
a hand to his temple, gingerly feeling around the re
d bump, cringing each time he touches
a raw nerve.

“You okay, man?” I whisper
, trying not to wake the other guys.

“I think so.
You?”

“About the same.
Just a knock on the head
.
I think it was done gently enough to not cause any permanent damage.
I think they want us alive to use as hostages.”

“Hostages for what?”

“They’re taking us to the star dwellers, who will then try to get to my father through me.”

“What’re we gonna do?”

“Not much we can do.
Go along for the ride, I suppose.”

A familiar voice echoes
through the cave.
“That’s right!
There’s nothin’ you can do!

Each of the men around us awa
ke
s
with a start, some of them jumping up and grabbing weapons, looking for someone to fight.

“It’s just
me, you idiots,” the voice says, as a figure steps into the light.
It i
s the guy with the burn
t face.
“Time to move,” he says
.

“Move where?” I ask
.

“Non
e of yer damn business,” he says
.

Wi
th
impressive speed,
the men get packed and move out.
I ask for water but am denied.
They do
, howe
ver, unbind our feet so we can
walk easily.
Our hands remain tied in the front.
I smile when they do
n’t bother to retie them be
hind our backs.
In the front gi
ve
s
us lots more room to maneuver in t
he event that an opportunity ari
se
s
.

But no
chances for action come up to
day.
Our march feels
endless, especially with no water to quench
my burning throat.
Roc and I a
re separated—sandwiched i
n between two guys each—so we a
ren’t able to
talk to each other.
When I do
risk a question to one of my guards—a simple
Can I stop to go to the bathroom?
—it i
s answered with a rough jab to the abdomen with the end of his rifle.

Not a good day.

Twice we hear
echoing voices bouncing off the walls from some
where in the cavern.
We stop suddenly and everyone strains
to listen for more sounds, trying to discern who it
might be or what direction it is coming from, but all we get i
s silenc
e, and it i
s near impossible to determine
where the sound originates from
.
I wonder if it’
s Adele and her friends, somewhere in front of us in the caverns, moving by some
twist of fate
in the exact same
direction as us.
Or it might
be Rivet with a new troop, replacing the men who were kille
d by our captors.
Whoever it is, they stay
out of our way and we out of theirs.

I do
n’t know the
Lonely Caverns
well, b
ut from studying Roc’s map I know enough to realize we a
re sticking to one of the four
main tunnels, which intersect
at a hub near the middle.
We a
re essentially using the cavern as a conduit to move to another subchapter.

At the en
d of the day’s march, my legs a
re on fire and my wrists rubbed raw by the constant chafin
g of the tight ropes that bi
nd them toge
ther.
My mouth and esophagus are so dry I can’t swallow.
My head
started really pounding ha
lfway through the day, and it is all I can
do to ignore the urge to collapse
and curl up into a ball.
I am
su
re Roc’s day ha
sn’t
been
much better than mine.

Thankfully, they si
t us d
own together while they prepare
the evening meal
, probably because we are easier to guard if we a
re in one place
.
Roc looks
like hell, his face pale and his eyes barely open, and I wo
nder if I look
any better.
One of the guards finally shows mercy and gi
ve
s
both of us two gulps of
some kind of liquid that tastes like dirt.
It’s the best dirt I’ve ever tasted, and I would drink the whole bottle if they
let me.

Speaking i
s
difficult, but I don’t know whether we’ll get another chance, so I use
my recently moistened tongue to lick my chapped lips and attempt a few sentences.
“Yo
u gonna be al
l
right, Roc?” I say
.

Roc manages a tight smile and says
, “It’
s nothin’ compared to all the chores you make me do around the palace.”

I grin.
I know Roc will be al
l
right as long as he keeps
making jokes.
“Speaking of which, I’ve got a few for you this evening if you don’t mind?”

“As long as it involves knocking a guard or two on the head and getting the h
ell out of here, I’m game.”
I’ve
never heard Roc say anything
that violent before
and for some reason I find it really funny.
It appears
that our little
trip away from the Sun Realm is changing him
already.

“If you take six, I’ll
take the other six,” I say
.

“How

bout I take three a
nd you take nine,” Roc counters
.

“Seven and five—that’s my final offer.”

“Deal,” Roc says
.

We should probably take
the time more seriously, try
to come up with a real plan, but I think the little
bit of joking helps
mo
re than anything else would
.

We do
n’t kn
ock any guards on the head tonight.
We a
re
just too tired.
Plus, they keep
two watchmen awake at all times
, who a
re charged with guarding us and the camp at the same time.

Despite
not having a pillow or blanket
for th
e second night in a row, I sleep
like a dead man, nestling my head in the crook between my forearm and bicep.

When I awa
ke
,
the pain in my head is gone.
I struggle to a seated position and look around.
Roc smirks
at
me.
“How’s your head?” he says
.

“Never felt better,” I say
honestly.

“Mine
,
too.
I think there was some kind of medicine in the drink they gave us last night.”

“Probably a slow
-
acting poison that will kill us in a few days.”

“Probably,”
Roc says
.

One of the guards i
s watching ou
r exchange with interest.
He i
s a stocky guy with a shiny bald
head and graying beard.
He says
, “My daughter’s in love with you.”

Roc says
, “Me?”

I laugh
.

Baldy says
, “No, you,”—motioning to me—“the one with the good head of hair and pretty
-
boy smile.
She’s got a poster of you up in her bedroom.
Cost me a whole week’s pay.
She will never forgive me if I don’t get an autograph when I have
the chance.”

I’ve
had some strange requests in my life, but this one
ta
k
es the cake (if we
had any cak
e, that is).
The whole world is exploding, we a
re captured by a gang of misf
its, and one of my captors wants
an autograph?

Of course, I give him one.
It’s not like I have a choice.
I sign
his canteen and he even let
s
me have a drink from it in exchange.
“Thanks.
Might be w
orth somethin’ someday,” he says
.

No one else speaks to us this morning.
But they do
let us walk toge
ther this time.
I guess they a
re fee
ling more comfortable that we aren’t going to
try anyth
ing, probably because they can tell we a
re getting weaker from the lack of food and water.

Big mistake.

It’
s anothe
r grueling march, although it’s broken up when we stop
for a break upon reaching
the hub, a huge cavern that was
carved out decades ag
o.
Four gaping tunnels branch
off
on each side
.
We si
t
on manmade stone benches t
hat were
erected for travel
ers.
The men seem
less serious,
joking and laughing as they eat.
They gi
ve us small c
hunks of the dried meat we’
d bought a couple of days ear
lier
and a swig
of water.
The food and water, alon
g with whatever medicine they’
d g
iven us the previous night, leaves
me feeli
ng somewhat refreshed.
If we a
r
e going to try something, now i
s the time.

When no one i
s looking, I sile
ntly dra
w Roc’s attention with a quick flick of one of
my fingers.
Right away I can
see the fear in his eyes.
He i
s right to be scared: the next few minutes could kill us.

I wait
patiently for the perfect
moment to launch the plan I have
in my head
.
Half the men have wandered off and a
re doing a bit of sightseeing, checking out the multitude of intricate carvings etched by travele
rs into the rock walls.
They are spread out, which is bad, but no one i
s covering the entrance to the tunne
l we’ve just come through.
That’s good, because I am
hoping to go back the way we’
ve
come anyway.
It will
make them less likely to pursue us.

Four of the others, including th
e leader with the deep voice, a
re engaged in a heated discussion about Tr
i-Realm politics.
That leaves two guys who a
re sort of paying attention to us
, although more and more they a
re dis
tracted by their friends—I can
see their eyes flicking back and forth between us and them.

One of them turns
his back to add a comment to the conversation.

Only one guard now.

His eyes are on me, but it’s a blank stare, like he i
s looking
without really seeing.
I can tell his mind i
s on th
e conversation behind him.
I rise silently, trusting it will
take a few moments for his br
ain to register what his eyes are seeing.
Before he kno
w
s
what hit
him, I…well, I hit him.
Club
him over the head with my tied-together fists.
I h
it him hard enough that he wo
n’t be
getting up anytime soon.
He does
n’t cry out
and the othe
rs a
re too distracted to notice.

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