Revenants Rising Page 2

  "Hey, do you need to talk about it?" Rutger asked.

  Torsten glanced at Rutger. "Talk about what?"

  "Rell."

  "No."

  "I'm not going to spoon you or braid your hair while you cry or anything. But if you need to grunt and scratch your armpit, I'm here for you."

  Despite himself, Torsten smiled. "I know. Thanks." But his emotions were still too much of a jumble. He had to make sense of them before sharing them with anyone else. He might not ever be ready to talk about her.

  Rutger looked up at the ceiling. "You think we're safe out here? Those little, what did you call them? Mwumba? They might find us again."

  "There's more of us this time. I think we'll be alright." Torsten shuddered when he thought of the mwumba who had attacked Rutger and him last time they camped in the desert. The creatures had appeared to be cute and furry at first glance, but they were the complete opposite. If it weren't for Rell, they would have died from venomous mwumba bites.

  "If it's okay with you, I think I'll take a quick snooze, too," Rutger said.

  Torsten sat silently, staring at the canvas, thinking about only one person as Rutger lay next to Malia, his arm around her waist.

  Before long, Torsten was the only one awake. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. After the loss of his parents, whom he had thought had been brutally murdered, Torsten knew how to deal with death, pain, and separation. At least he thought he did.

  His thoughts kept flashing back to Rell's body on the stretcher. She was dead. He wanted to believe she was still alive, just as his mother had been. It was ridiculous, though. Rell was gone. He’d seen her. He’d touched her cold, lifeless skin. If that wasn't enough, the blood on the sheet over her abdomen was telling. The aliens had cut the dragzhi out of her, but it was too late to save her life. The dragzhi had won.

  Now Torsten's only goal was to save the people of Phoenix and bring them back to Hadar. Even his sister, Leila, whose vendetta against Rell had recently spun out of control.

  Torsten stood, refusing to let himself go down that path. He would confront Leila later. All that mattered now was saving his people from the tark. He couldn't let anyone else die.

  4

  The light in the tent diminished as the sun fell toward the horizon. Torsten untied a corner of the tent flap and stuck his head outside. "It's clear," he called back to the others.

  "Then let's break this tent down and get out of here." Malia followed him out of the tent, dropped her pack on the sand, and collapsed the first tent pole.

  With all four of them working, the whole process only took a few minutes. Still, it was a few minutes too many. Torsten was anxious to find their people. If the tark, the strange doll-like aliens of Phoenix, were powerful enough to spirit all of the humans from the tower and into the vastness of the desert, was there anything Torsten and his friends could do to save them? Especially when they'd left no trace of the path they had taken.

  Torsten rubbed his temples as he squinted toward the setting sun. He had no idea what he was doing. He spun around, his eyes on Malia.

  "Maybe we should go back to the tower. Wait for the EU to come back."

  "Too late." Malia hoisted her pack onto her back and wrapped a scarf around her head. "The scout is out of gas. We couldn't get back if we wanted to. Besides, I think you were right in the first place. We can’t wait."

  "We're all gonna die anyway," Chuck said as he stepped up next to Torsten. "You didn't see those things. Little dolls floating down the hallway, their lips pulled back, baring their teeth. We didn't stand a chance."

  "Did we fight back, at least?” Torsten asked. He couldn't imagine Leila going without a fight.

  Chuck shook his head. "That was the strangest part. Everyone did as the tark said. Followed them down the hall and out of the brig. Both of my guards and that pantywaist Rene. None of them drew their guns. They simply walked away."

  "Did you hear anything else?" Torsten asked. "Gunfire? Screaming?"

  Chuck shrugged. "Nothing. It was like they wanted to leave. Course the dolls left me there. As a warning, they said. I thought I was going to starve to death. Luckily you showed up, and now I can starve to death in this damn desert." Chuck stomped ahead of them, kicking up sand in his wake.

  Torsten let him go. He didn't like Chuck, but it still made him sick to think he was taking the man from one death to another.

  Rutger clapped a hand on Torsten's shoulder. "Don't let him get to you. Chuck has issues. You have a messed-up sibling. You know how it is."

  Torsten trained angry eyes on Rutger. "Leila isn't messed up. She's just..." Torsten was at a loss for words. He didn't know how to describe her anymore. Leila had been through a lot. She saw only in black and white and didn't believe anything without proof. She was a fighter. She lived hard and fast. He couldn't distill her down to one word.

  "Whatever, man." Rutger moved ahead, trailing his brother.

  "It's okay to feel differently about Leila than we do." Malia's eyes sparkled from behind her scarf, and her muffled voice contained a hint of amusement. "None of us are perfect. Not Chuck, and certainly not Rutger. It's okay to love someone you don't always see eye to eye with."

  "Are we doing the right thing by searching for them?" Torsten asked her.

  "I don't know. I guess we'll find out eventually. For now, all we can do is move forward. Try to find the tark village, or wherever they live, and rescue everyone. Or we die trying. Given the choice, I'd rather try than sit back and wait for the EU to show up again."

  "That was strange, wasn't it?" Torsten said. "One second we have a dragzhi fleet bearing down on us, then the next an Earth United ship swoops in and saves the day. I want to think it was a lucky coincidence, but I felt like something was off."

  "You're not the only one." Malia dropped her scarf under her chin as the winds calmed. "I didn't want to question their motives because, obviously, they saved our butts. But…”

  "It was too easy," Torsten said.

  Malia nodded. "So what does it mean?"

  "I wish I knew."

  They continued in silence, trudging through the sand. Torsten found it difficult to maintain an even pace. The sand shifted underneath him every time he lifted a foot, and each landing was an invitation to misstep and slip.

  Despite the lack of wind, sand still found its way into his mouth, ears, nose, and eyes. Torsten pulled the scarf up over his entire face, only able to see the forms of his comrades through the thin fabric.

  Torsten glanced at the sky, the two moons of Phoenix becoming brighter as the sun fell below the horizon. His heart tugged him toward the stars, to the place he'd lost Rell. A lump choked his throat. He'd done so much in an effort to save her. All of it was for nothing.

  Tearing his eyes back toward the vast desert, Torsten swore an oath to himself. He would find the others and rescue them or die trying. He would forgive Leila and make amends. She was his only family. All he had left.

  Even Rutger and Chuck, who clearly didn't like each other, walked side by side in companionable silence. There was a comfort in family that couldn't be found elsewhere. Torsten was determined to find that again with Leila.

  They walked for hours, stopping only sporadically to drink from their flasks.

  "Not too much," Malia cautioned them. "We don't know when we'll find water next. We need to conserve our resources."

  "When?" Chuck scoffed. "You should say if. We don't know if there's anything out there."

  "We do." Torsten screwed the top on his flask and placed it in his back pocket. "The tark obviously wanted our people alive. There must be water. Something has to sustain them."

  "You have a point, Torsten." Malia offered him a smile before pulling the scarf over her face again. "Let's go."

  As the sun climbed behind them, they made camp again in the sand. Before Torsten closed the flap, he looked out over the desert once more. In every direction, it looked the same. He sighed as he tied the string to hold the flap shu
t.

  5

  Leila pinched her arm, digging her nails into the skin.

  Searing pain.

  Pain was good. It meant she was alive, unlike Andessa. Her friend's body lay on the other side of the room. It only moved when a doll held her hand.

  The tark could reanimate a body with only a touch. They probably used the human bodies for unspeakable things. Only Leila’s memories saved her.

  She knew Rell, and somehow, the tark had figured that out. They wanted Rell back. There was something they wanted from her.

  Leila didn't know what, but if it would save her own life, she'd tell them everything she could remember about the murderous girl. Rell had killed Mellok, the man Leila loved, then stolen Torsten away from Leila. She and Torsten taken care of each other since they were small children, orphaned after their parents' murder. Despite everything, Leila always knew she could count on Torsten.

  Until Rell came along.

  Leila thought back to the day the tark had descended on the tower. They had arrived in a multitude of barges. One look into their eyes and the people had followed the tark wherever they commanded. They’d marched out of the tower and into their barges without protest. Leila still couldn’t understand why she hadn’t fought back.

  As they sailed across the sand, Leila's long, blond hair had whipped in the wind. She’d watched the tower shrink with every passing moment. They traveled at high speed all day, landing near a mountain range that evening.

  They had walked off the barges in single file, entered a cave, and traversed through near-darkness until they were told which chambers to rest in.

  Leila went into her chamber alone. It wasn't until the next morning, when she woke and saw Andessa, that she became confused. Something wasn't right. It wasn't until the tark brought her into their cavern, their voices ululating, that she realized what was happening.

  She was going to die.

  Until one of them touched her forehead with its cold, porcelain hand.

  It screamed for the others to stop.

  The tark ushered her back to her room, where she had been for days. Maybe a week. She had no way of marking time in the darkness. She counted the meals, seven, but she wasn't sure they came at regular intervals. Food delivery was punctuated by random questioning on the one topic Leila had no interest in discussing—Rell.

  The door cracked open, and Leila bolted upright, her hands gripping the cold slab she sat on.

  A tark floated into the room, its stringy hair hanging in clumps from its head. Leila glared at its unblinking eyes, reminding herself this wasn't a doll. It was a sentient being, fully alive and capable of harm.

  "You're awake. Good. We have more questions for you concerning Rell." The tark held out an arm, gesturing toward the door. "Join us?"

  Leila stood and followed the tark out the door. Each time, they sent a new one to get her. She never asked their names, and they didn't offer to share. She followed it down a long, dark hallway carved from stone. Leila ran her fingers along the smooth wall as she counted the turns. Two lefts. One right. The middle hall. Walk a long time, then turn to the left. Third opening on the right. It was always the same room in this labyrinth. She longed to know what the other rooms hid, despite her fear of what might lie inside them.

  "Take a seat, please." The head of the tark, Gwendal, motioned to a rock protruding from the ground.

  Leila sat on the jagged stone, shifting carefully until she was barely comfortable. "What do you want to know?"

  "Is she alive?" the tark asked.

  "I don't know," Leila admitted. The last time she'd seen Rell, she'd shot her in the gut. Then Rell's friend, a tall, blond buried man, had knocked Leila out. When she awoke, they were gone. Once before she'd thought Rell was dead and been wrong. Rell had more lives than an Earth cat.

  "You must know."

  "I don't," Leila insisted. "I tried to kill her, but after that... I don't know what happened."

  "We advanced too quickly. Had we waited until Rell returned, perhaps we would know more." The tark tapped one porcelain finger against its chin.

  It was right, but Leila kept her mouth shut. She wouldn't argue with them as long as she felt she had a chance of surviving.

  "We need to know if she is alive." The tark's eyes focused on Leila's. "You will find out."

  "I want to know, too, but I'm not sure what I can do from here. Do you want me to talk to the others?" Hope swelled in Leila's heart. She hadn't seen anyone else from the tower. Every so often, one of the tark would allude to the others they'd taken, so Leila assumed she wasn't the only one who'd survived the abduction.

  "Yes, perhaps that is the best course of action. We will deposit you in the desert today."

  "What? The desert?" Fear blossomed in Leila's chest. "I'll die out there. How can I help you if you leave me to die in the heat and sand?"

  "Foolish human." The tark chuckled under its breath. "You know so little. There are others in the desert, presumably coming to rescue your people. They came from space in a shiny shuttle. Rell is not among them, or we would feel her presence."

  Leila bit her lip, not allowing herself to reply. Humans from space? Impossible. Not after all this time. "If you take me to them, I can find out if they know anything about Rell." And maybe these humans from space could get her off the planet to safety.

  "That was our assessment, as well. If Rell is alive, you must bring her to us." The tark turned away from Leila, waving its hands in the air.

  Leila had seen them do that before. It was some form of communication.

  It turned around. "We are agreed, then. You will approach these humans. You will ascertain what you can from them, then we will come for you."

  A whirlwind of sand sprang forth from the tark's mouth, wrapping both of them up in a tornado. Leila yanked her shirt up, covering her face. Eyes closed, she felt her feet rising from the floor. Her entire body spun in an endless coil.

  Moments later, she thumped down on coarse sand. Her eyes snapped open as the whirlwind moved away from her, then winked out of existence.

  Leila blinked wildly, her eyes sensitive to the sun she hadn't seen in days.

  "Hey!" she called out. "Where am I?"

  Find her.

  Leila stood, looking around. All she saw was sand in every direction. There were no other humans out in the desert. The tark had tricked her. And for what? Did it amuse them to watch her suffer?

  Refusing to let anyone determine her fate, Leila stalked off toward the west, in the general direction she believed Hadar to be. She wouldn't die out here, not if she had anything to say about it.

  6

  Rell awoke the next morning, at least she thought it was morning, in a richly appointed room. She lay on a bed softer than any she'd ever felt, covered by a heavy, warm blanket made of the plushest material. She couldn't identify it. She was fairly certain it wasn't anything they had on Phoenix.

  Her planet. Her home. There wasn't one tiny part of her that felt these humans on this great spaceship were her people. They were as foreign to her as the dragzhi, more so because at least she knew what to expect from the dragzhi. These humans, who shared her DNA makeup, were complete strangers.

  Rell trusted few people. She couldn't trust an entire ship of strangers, no matter how warmly they welcomed her. It went against her nature.

  She flipped the cover off her body, surprised to find the air in the room just as warm as the bed. Underground, her toes were always greeted by the cool bite of morning. Even in the tower, the air had always been cooler than the warm cocoon of her bed.

  Everything on the EU ship was perfect. Disconcertingly so.

  A screen on the opposite wall flickered, then a perky voice said, "Incoming call from Admiral Lee. Please accept."

  Rell ran her hands through her hair and sighed. "I accept."

  A pleasant face appeared on the screen. A short, blunt haircut framed her brown face. Her deep brown eyes flickered with amusement. "How are you feeling? I trust y
ou slept well?"

  "Yes, just fine. Thank you." Rell kept her tone even.

  "If you'd like, there is a shower in the bathroom to your right."

  Rell nodded. She'd seen the night before, but hadn't been sure that was what it was. A large, empty box framed by glass stood not far from the toilet, but she couldn't find a drain. No spigot protruded from the wall as in the tower’s showers.

  "Just step in and the water will start. You'll like it. I promise." Admiral Lee smiled again, her teeth glinting in the harsh light of the room.

  Rell nodded again, unwilling to admit she hadn't already understood how it worked.

  "After that, I hope you'll join us for breakfast in the mess hall. Don't worry about finding your way. When you leave your room, simply ask one of the hall guides. They'd be happy to point you in the right direction. See you soon!"

  The screen blanked out before Rell could respond. She supposed her consent wasn't needed. What else could she do? Stay in her room until they finally decided to take her back to Phoenix?

  Rell shed her nightclothes, letting the soft material flutter to the floor. Despite her nakedness, she still wasn't cold. She slipped into the bathroom, opening the door to the shower. As soon as she closed it, a warm mist spouted from the walls of the shower.

  Rell closed her eyes, letting out a long breath. Despite her trepidations, she had to admit the shower was glorious. After a few minutes, the water pressure began to recede until it was no more than a dribble. Reluctantly, Rell left the shower. It was probably for the best. She likely would have stayed in the shower all day if it hadn't shut off automatically.

  She dried off with a warm towel, hanging it on a rod over the toilet when she was done. The toilet was another luxury she'd learned about when she lived in the tower. Underground, they'd had less accommodating facilities.