The Moon Dwellers (40 page)

There’s
a knife han
ging from his belt and I manage
to extract it by the hilt, the blade naturally gravitating
toward
my wrist ropes.
I caress
the blade back and forth, keeping one eye on the group of debaters.
I saw
through one rope and it fa
ll
s away.
I pull
my wrists apart sharply, separating the weakened strands of rope.

The knife slips
from my fingers.

I am
in a
time warp, where seconds tick by like hours.
I can
see ever
y turn of the knife as it flips
end over end to the ground, movi
ng in slow motion.
It clatters
loudly on the stone floor.

For a second everyone is confused, so I ta
k
e
advantage of the situation, g
rabbing the guard’s gun—which i
s conveniently located on the ground between his feet.
I
point it
in the general direction of the cluster of debaters.

I pull
the trigger.

The
automatic spray of bullets fi
res wildly above the men, but it
has
t
he desired effect.
Some drop
flat on
their stomachs, while others ta
k
e off running
in the opposite direction.
Taking adv
antage of the distraction, I spin and ta
k
e off the other way.
I expect
to have to herd Roc i
n the right direction, but I am
pleasan
tly surprised to see him
halfway to the tunnel entrance
, carrying our pack
and both swords
awkwardly with his bound hands
.
It i
s a good thing, to
o, because by the time I reach
the halfway mark
, the bullets and arrows start
flying all around me.

Luckily,
as perfect as their aim was
when they rescued u
s from Rivet’s men, their aim i
s e
qually off the mark this time, probably a result of the frantic nature of the shots coupled with my erratic movement away
from them.
Plus, I’m firing haphazard bursts of bullets over my shoulder, which surely distracts them.
The closest shot is an arrow that ca
t
ches
a loose bit of my tunic, tearing off a tatter of cloth.

A few mo
re bullets rip
bits of rock from the gr
ound at my sides, but nothing ge
t
s
clos
e enough to worry me.
I charge
into the tunnel,
practically knocking Roc, who i
s waiting just inside, flat on his bu
ttocks.
The next problem: it i
s freaking dark in the tu
nnel and I do
n’t have time to stop a
nd
pull
a torch
from our pack
.
Even if I did I wouldn’t use it, as it would only draw
more attention to our whereabouts.

I
loop
the gun strap over my shoulder to free up my hands
and help
Roc sling the pack around h
is neck.
I tuck
my
sword into its scabbard and use
Roc’s swo
rd to cut his hands free.
I am
was
ting too much time, but it will be easier with neither of us
bound.
I’m not e
mbarrassed to say that I grab
Roc’s
hand at this point to ensure we can
stay together.

Although I was
quite observant as we approached the hub—looking for side passages,
dangerous obstacles, etc.—I am
still worried that at any moment we might slam directly into a rock wall or boulder, ending our smooth escape and breaking our sun dweller noses.

I count the strides as we ru
n, trying to estimat
e where the first side tunnel is.
I know we a
re gettin
g close.
“Slow up, Roc,” I say.
I pull him to the left until I brush
against the tunnel wall.
“Stay along the wall.”

I release his hands and feel
along the wall, mo
ving more quickly now that I have
something to guide me.
We hear
a cry from behind
, as one of our pursuers enters the tunnel.
They can’t see us, but we can
see
them—a half-dozen torches glow
behind us.

Suddenly the wall gi
ve
s
way t
o my left.
“This way,” I hiss
, turning the corner and continuing to
use the wall as a guide.
I know our only hope i
s
to make enough turns that they’ll
have
to continuo
usly split up to ensure they do
n’t miss us.

“Faster,” I whisper.
I pick
up the pace, moving
rapidly along the wall.
Roc i
s awesome, obeying my commands to perfection and moving noiselessly behind me.

“Switch sides,” I say
, pushing off from the wall a
nd wandering blindly until I fi
nd the wall on the opposite side.

I hear voices behind us.
They a
ren’t cries from the chase anymore—more like a discussion.
Deciding what to d
o at the side tunnel.
Who will search it versus who will
continue
down the main tunnel.
I ignore them and keep
feeling for the next gap.

It co
me
s
soon, leading off diagonally to
the right.
“Bear right,” I say
, moving in
to a new tunnel.
If the men do what I expect
them to do—continue cutting their numbers a
t each fork in the road—it will mean that six will follow
us down the side
tunnel, and now only three will
pursue us into the angled tunnel tributary.

I move
even fast
er, running now, praying it’s not a dead end.
If you’ve never ru
n at full speed in complete darkness, you should try it sometime.
It’s exhilarating.
Even if you know you’re in a place where there are no obstacles, nothing to smash into, it’s
a real rush.
In
our case we have no idea what’
s up ahead
.
At any moment we could fall into a deep pit, crashing onto jagged rock spikes at the bottom.
Or we might plunge into the depths of an icy underwater river with a fierce current, sucking us deep
er
underground where we’ll
drown.

Because of fate, or the blessings of a higher power, or just plain old dumb luck, none of those things hap
pen
.
In fact,
the best possible thing happens: we reach
a sma
ll tunnel hub.
The rock wall gi
ve
s way to my right, but I can tell it i
sn’t a new tunnel because of the arc of the wall
.
Typically a tunnel hub
link
s
between four and eight other t
unnels.
I have
no idea how many this hub will have, but it does
n’t really matter.
A
s long as the guys behind us do
n’t guess right.

“Hub,” I say
for Roc’s benefit.
“Count with me.
We’ll take the third side tunnel on the right.”

“Yes
,
sir
,” Roc says
, managing to mock me even in the worst situation.

I pass
a gap
in the hub wall.
“One,” I say
.

“One,” Roc parrots
.

The next gap i
s almost immediately after the first.
“Two.”

“Two.”

The third gap i
s a bit further, but only by a yard or two.
“Three
,” I say
, cutting sharply to the right.

I barely hear
Roc’s muffle
d, “Three,” as the floor drops
away beneath me.

Chapter Fifteen

Adele

I
wonder how much of attraction is based on looks.
I
’d
never felt anything for Tristan before—not from seeing his pictures on bill
boards
,
at least.
But now I feel pulled
toward
him.
It’
s everything: his look
s, his smile, the way he carries himself, those eyes that look
at me with an intensity, a ye
arning,
as though
without me he will
surely perish
.
The way he
said my name—
Adele
!
—
his tone filled with such longing.

I c
an’t hope that he
survived the encounter with
Rivet and his men.
But I ca
n’t stop thi
nking about him either, which is dangerous.
I feel like I need
to start detaching my mind
from him or I’ll
go crazy.
Easier said than done.

Elsey i
s saying s
omething beside me, but I’m not listening.
Then I realize her head is cocked to the side and she is staring at me as we walk.
She’s
asked me a question.

“Wha…
w
hat?” I say
.
S
he gi
ve
s
me a look.
“Sorry, I’m just a little…distracted.”

“Have yo
u met Tristan before?”
Elsey i
sn’t helping with my little detachment project.

“No,” I say
.

“Then how’d he know your name?”

“From the news I s’pose.”

“Do you think he’s
de
—”

“No
!” I excla
im, louder than I’d planned.
My voice echoes
dangerously through the caverns.
Ahe
ad of us, Cole and Tawni stop and look
back—
Cole glares
at me while
Tawni
stan
d
s
with her hands on her hips.

“Sorry,” I
whisper
.
“No more talking for now, El
.”

We
walk
for the next
three hours in silence.
We do
n’t take an
y side tunnels, afraid that we’ll
get turned around and end up going in c
ircles.
The tunnel gradually ge
t
s
thinner an
d the ceiling lower, until we a
re forced to march in
single file, slightly stooped,
Cole then Tawni
then Elsey then me.
It’s claustrophobic.

When my back begi
n
s
to ache so badly from th
e awkward posture that I think I can’t go any further, I hear
an elated cry ahead of me.
I h
asten
my steps, realizing I’
ve
fallen quite far behind.
A minute o
r so later, the tunnel emerges
into a small alcove.
B
y small I mean the four of us a
re barely able
to fit.
But that’s not what mad
e someone—Tawni
,
I think—cry out.