The Unfinished World (The Armor of God Book 2) (6 page)

He had never heard Garros talk this way; he had always been a source of levity in a world of gravity. Maybe there were feelings deep inside him that overlapped with Ezra’s. It could just be the land—seeing the green put a new perspective on what they were trying to achieve out in the sick wild. Suddenly the possibility of a green earth was real, and not just a hopeful dream.

But that possibility was not comforting; quite the contrary. With it came the considerable weight of failure, and it all rested on so few shoulders.

Garros opened his mouth to let some of the rain in. Using his huge, tattooed hands, he squeezed his beard like it was a rag, and the water it had collected fell in a short stream. “I hope this rain isn’t infected,” he said and chuckled.

It was something Ezra hadn’t even considered. “I thought the virus couldn’t live in water.”

“I’m pretty sure it can’t; but hey, if you see me begin to turn into a damn Trooper or something, just be quick about it.” Garros laughed and Ezra didn’t.

With that tasteless joke, Ezra could only think of Subject Edward: Jena’s father, turned into a monster and killed by Besoe Nandi at Ezra’s command. It was a painful secret he would have to carry to his grave.

“No, it
can’t
live in water, Ezra,” said Jena, joining them as though his thoughts had summoned her. Ezra turned around and saw she was a few feet behind him. “I knew you were paying attention in Dr. Mizrahi’s class.”

“Dammit, Crescent, how long have you been there?” Garros yelled. “I’m trying to have a big brother moment here!”

Ezra actually laughed, and it felt good.

“I know; please don’t stop on my account, because you were doing pretty well,” she smiled. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your bonding session, but I really didn’t want to be alone down there.”

“Fine,” Garros said. “And Erin?”

“Asleep. She said she needed only a few hours, and she’d be good to go,” said Jena and began to crab-walk down the hill, closer to Ezra, until she sat right next to him. She was warm, even under the rain. “You know what’s really strange about these islands?”

“What’s that?” asked Ezra. She locked her arm with his. He looked down at the new link made between them, and wondered what in the perfect hell it meant. Suddenly he wasn’t so sure he wanted it.

“It was hard to tell from ground level, even from Jade’s height, but they’re unnaturally round.”

“
Right?
” Garros said, sounding perhaps too excited, and she nodded. “I noticed that too.”

“Are they? I hadn’t noticed,” said Ezra.

“And look. If you see from up there, it’s even stranger; there’s something else I noticed about this one. Come on,” Jena said and got up. She climbed up the grassy incline, and they followed.

It took several minutes to climb high enough, and they did it in silence. Several yards up the mountain, higher up than even the giant Creuxen could see, where the cold breeze had turned into a strong wind, they could witness a great stretch of land in front of them.

There were at least five more oases within eyeshot, all of them far smaller than the one which now granted them safe haven from the dangers of the lifeless world.

“Well, I’ll be . . . you’re right,” said Ezra, taking deep breaths and sitting back down. The green spots scattered on the plain were not perfectly circular, but close enough to be remarkable, and even appear unnatural.

From up there he could see the four massive Creuxen; they were resting on the edge of the oasis, barely covering a fragment of its considerable expanse. It was far larger than he initially imagined. Far larger than any of the other ones.

“I wonder what they’re all about,” he said.

“Now, look. At that—that wet area near the center, like a swamp,” Jena said. “Oh, it’s even more obvious from up here. Do you see it?”

Ezra had been blessed with good eyesight, so he could see what Jena meant even from far away. Almost exactly at the center of the oasis, near the edge of a dense forest, there was a circular pool of water adorned in intricate patterns of grass and earth. Like the edges of the oasis, it did not seem natural either.

“What do you think that is?” Jena asked.

“I don’t know, I can barely see that far, but there’s definitely something down there,” Garros replied. “Did you notice anything like that in the others?”

“I remember seeing something similar in one—one of the small ones—but I guess I just thought it was part of the terrain,” Jena said, and crossed her arms, fighting off the cold. “From up here, it actually looks . . . what’s the word—significant? If Erin’s okay with it, maybe we should see what it is. I know we’re in a hurry to get to Kerek—”

“We are, but look,” said Garros. “I’m not entirely sure, but I think Kerek is somewhere near that mountain over there, that tall one. You see it?”

Ezra followed Garros’ finger toward the horizon. There was a tall peak that pierced the clouds, reaching a height far greater than the lesser mountains at its feet.

“If that’s what I think it is, Kerek is just next to it, at its base,” said Garros. “It might not take more than half a day to get there, if we don’t run into any more trouble.”

He had learned during these weeks of travel that mountains had a way of twisting one’s sense of distance, but Garros’ estimate seemed accurate.

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” said Jena.

Ezra’s teeth began to chatter from the cold when a blast of wind hit them. All these characteristics of the wild, the natural ambience in which humanity had lived for tens of thousands of years, was something
alien
now. He wondered if, after so long living in a cocoon where every aspect of the atmosphere was regulated for comfort, the human race had become somehow weaker.

More so, he wondered if this world which had never been truly theirs would even welcome them back after their victory.

When they made their way back down, Ezra felt a little better. The headache was still there, as was the mark on his face that would let anyone know that he had survived being punched by a behemoth like Garros, but he felt cleaner. Emotionally. He was even capable of smiling earnestly for the first time in weeks.

Maybe he should get knocked out more often.

The Apse of her Creux was open when they got to it, and Erin was nowhere to be found. After climbing onto Phoenix Atlas’ chest, Ezra took a look around the area to find her, and when he did, he felt the awfully familiar trepidation of seeing a friend in danger.

Erin was standing just a few feet from the edge of the oasis, and not far from her, just outside the green patch, there stood a huge Trooper type. Erin was staring it down, as if trying to intimidate it into leaving, knowing it wouldn’t dare attack her.

He climbed down the Creux’s chest and ran towards her. Garros and Jena followed him.

Erin barely registered their presence when they joined her, and only asked one question, her eyes still on the creature: “Where were you?”

“I thought you were getting some rest,” Garros said, unconcerned by the Fleck. Much like Erin, Garros looked unimpressed by the presence of the monster, more troubled by Erin’s fatigue than the giant creature standing only a few yards away.

They had very little evidence to know for sure that the Flecks would not set foot on the oases, and this was the first time that their risky hypothesis proved true: the monster appeared to fear the green.

The creature’s stillness, and its closeness, gave Ezra the rare opportunity to inspect it. Outside the protection of Nandi, he didn’t remember ever seeing a Laani Fleck this close, at least not since Subject Edward, and even then, he had done so standing on an observation deck from a safe distance. Seeing one of its kind from ground level gave him a new perspective of what he was fighting, the horrors of infection, and of the Creux’s massive strength.

Taller than a house, this thing was saurian in appearance: it had the forward-facing eyes of a predator, a thick tail, and a long befanged snout. Yet, its most defining characteristics were two giant legs and very long, very thin arms ending in clawed hands that touched the dry ground, somehow supporting the weight of its upper body.

“What do you suppose this thing was before getting infected?” Erin asked no one in particular.

“A lizard?” replied Garros, taking one step closer to the edge of the oasis, where the grass stopped growing and the earth died.

It made Ezra anxious. He shouldn’t stand so close to the Fleck.

“A dog? Someone’s brother, maybe.”

“He’s afraid. Isn’t he?” Erin said. She hadn’t peeled fearless eyes from the creature, and didn’t share Ezra’s anxiety in seeing Garros come so close to it. “He’s afraid of us.”

Hooh boy
, Ezra thought.
So long, Dr. Mizrahi; we have a new Queen of District Crazy.

“Not of
us
,” replied Jena. “It’s afraid of something, but it’s not us.”

“Garros, where are you going?” Ezra finally said when Garros took a step on the dry land.

“It’s all right, Blanchard. They won’t come any closer than this,” Garros said with what Ezra thought was unwarranted confidence—it was almost cocky; he had too much faith in their hypothesis. “I told you we saw another one a few days ago, remember? They wouldn’t come any closer.”

Garros gave the monster his back, and it took its chance to attack.

“They’re afraid of this place,” was the last thing he said, before—

It roared its murderous intent. The creature lunged toward Garros and raised its arm, sharp claws ready to shred him where he stood. Garros turned to meet his sudden death.

Having read the monster’s intentions, and hearing Jena’s scream even over the monster’s roar, Ezra pulled Garros by the collar. The creature almost fell over as his claws missed their target by inches.

It roared again, this time in defeat, maybe even humiliation, and ran away, its feet making thunder in the windy wasteland.

The world around him had become blurry. Ezra didn’t know what had happened, or even when. His mind was suddenly clouded by what felt like an assault of harsh sensations it wasn’t ready to process. His face was hot. His right hand hurt, and it felt like an eternity before he could feel the cold breeze on his skin again.

Jena was yelling vulgarities he had never heard her speak before.

Erin had wrapped him in a hug.

What happened?

Still trapped in Erin’s embrace, Ezra looked at his right hand and cringed at the sight, the source of the pain: he had torn two of his fingernails almost entirely off, and they now hung from twisted skin, exposing tender flesh that bled.

Behind Ezra’s mutilated hand, Garros sat on the floor, looking up at him with wide, disbelieving eyes, like he too was having trouble assimilating the situation.

Erin finally let him go, and he noticed she was crying. She was saying something, but he could barely understand her words; his entire thought process was still impaired by chemicals rushing through his veins.

Had he just saved Garros’ life?

He hadn’t been freed of Erin’s embrace for more than a few seconds before it was Garros’ turn to squeeze the air out of him. He became angry, and felt like the huge man would crush him, so Ezra pushed him away.

“Blanchard, I—”

“You
moron
!” Ezra yelled, feeling his heartbeat in his throat, in his ears, and finally piecing together the events. Giving his back to the creature for even one second had been incredibly stupid. “Just two hours ago you were giving us all crap about getting too confident inside the Creux, and then you do
that
!”

Garros had nothing to say, so he began to laugh. It wasn’t genuine; there was a hint of horror and embarrassment, as if his own stupidity was still hard to believe, and the only way to dispel the awkwardness was insincere laughter.

“I think I pissed myself,” he said.

He had. The largest man Ezra had ever known, the same one who had survived an explosion that took four lives, stood there, red in the face, with piss in his pants.

Lightheaded, Ezra sat down and looked at his hand again. He pushed his fingernails back into place, and grunted—even dulled by circumstance, the pain was excruciating.

Small price to pay . . .

“I know, I’m sorry! I’m sorry,” Garros said, first to Ezra and then to Erin. He laughed again, another attempt at making light of the situation, and not one of the others appreciated it. “Oh my god, guys—I think I could’ve
died
!”

Trying to focus, Ezra’s eyes were still down on the grass, so he didn’t get to see Erin give Garros his second punch of the day. It must have been a better swing than Ezra’s, because Garros actually stumbled one step back, and stood there grabbing his jaw, accepting the punishment.

“Stop!
What is happening to us
?” Jena yelled, and Ezra finally looked up at her. She was furious, even more so than Erin. “What is happening? What could possibly be happening to make us act this way? We’re hurting each other, putting ourselves at risk for no reason.
Why
?”