Blood Red Road (35 page)

Ike spreads his hands. Tell ’em, Jack, he says.

Jack curses unner his breath. Looks at the ground fer a moment. Then he reaches fer the edges of his shirt an pulls it off over his head.

Emmi gasps. Beside me, I hear Ash’s breath hiss in. I already seen ’em, back at Hopetown, but my stummick still clenches.

Three long pink claw marks that slash across his body from his right shoulder to his left hip. Jack stands there fer a moment. Then he turns so we can see his back. A smaller set of claw scars slash across his right shoulder-blade.

He turns around again an puts on his shirt.

Does that answer yer question? he says.

What did that to yer back? Emmi whispers.

It was dark, says Jack. I didn’t git a good look.

They call ’em hellwurms, says Ike.

Wurms with claws, says Epona. An big wurms by the look of it. I ain’t heard of nuthin like that before.

An you ain’t seen nuthin like ’em neether, says Ike.

What are they? says Ash.

Story goes that a long time ago, back in Wrecker times, they put some kinda poison into the lake, says Ike. It killed off everythin. Essept the wurms. They grew.

You said they, says Epona. That means there’s more’n one. How many more?

A lot more, says Jack.

This jest gits better an better, I says.

There’s silence. Then, That settles it, I says. I’m goin on alone.

Well, everybody starts talkin all at once, even Tommo, one over top of th’other, gittin louder an louder till at last I put my hands over my ears an yell, Shut up, will you! Jest … shut up!

They do. They all look at me.

He’s my brother, I says. An I ain’t lettin none of you come with me if that’s—I point at Jack—what we gotta deal with before we even git to Freedom Fields. Now, I cain’t afford to go back down the hill an wait to try agin tomorrow. We’re nearly at midsummer. If I start right away, I might reach th’other side of the lake before dark.

She travels fastest who travels alone, says Ike, is that it?

That’s it all right, I says. Okay, Emmi, you—Emmi, what the hell’re you doin down there?

While we bin talkin, Emmi’s bin scrabblin around on the ground. Now she stands up an holds out her hands. She’s got a pile of white pebbles in one an a pile of black pebbles in th’other.

White means we go with you, she says. Black means we don’t. Whatever we git the most of, that’s what we do.

I ain’t got time fer this, Emmi, I says, I’m—

Shut up, Saba, she says.

An I’m so astonished that I do.

She sets the pebbles in two piles on the ground. She leaves a space in between.

Everybody gits one vote, she says. You choose yer pebble an then you put it in the middle. When we’re all done, I’ll count ’em up. Now, turn around so’s you cain’t watch what the other person’s doin.

Nobody moves. We all jest stand there, starin at her.

I said, turn around! she says. Tommo, you go first.

The rest of us turn our backs. Ike’s next to me. I see it runs in the family, he mutters.

Emmi directs the whole thing. I’m th’only one left.

What about me? I says.

You don’t git a turn, she says. Okay, turn around.

In the middle there’s six white pebbles. Not one black one.

I crouch down. Pick up the pebbles an hold ’em in my hand. They feel solid, warm. I look up into their faces one by one. An it’s like I’m lookin at ’em fer the first time. Jack, Ike, Emmi, Epona, Ash an Tommo. Every one of ’em willin to walk with me across the lake. To go with me into the darkness an face what lives there.

My throat feels tight.

You don’t hafta do this, I says.

Epona shrugs. We’re yer friends, Saba, she says. We wanna help.

I wish you wouldn’t, I says.

Too bad, she says. We’re stickin with you.

If this gits any more heart-warmin, says Ash, I’m gonna start cryin. Now if we’re done here, I say we git movin.

Jack gits us to muffle the horses’ feet with cloth so’s the wurms don’t know we’re passin over the top of ’em. Then we move out onto the parched lakebed.

We go as quick as we can, but like Jack said, we gotta guide the horses safely past all the cracks an crevasses, big an small, that split the earth an slow us down. We don’t talk, try not to make no sound. But the horses sense
somethin. They’re nervy. Soon they start to shy at their own shadows.

An we don’t make it. We don’t make it across the lake before dark. Even though it’s the season of long days, we’re only about halfways across when we start to lose the light.

Jack stops. Looks at the sky. He waits fer everybody to catch up. When the light goes, he says in a low voice, it’s gonna go fast. We gotta be ready well before then.

My stummick clenches. Ready fer what? I says.

Hellwurms sleep in the day, he says, deep inside the mountain. When night falls, they come up through the cracks in the lakebed. They’ll be lookin fer food. It could be we git lucky. If they already got full bellies from last night or even a couple of days ago, they might stay down there an sleep it off. But if we don’t git lucky—

—the minute it’s dark, says Ike, wurms is gonna crawl outta them cracks an cover this lakebed faster’n you could ever imagine.

You should of told us this before we started off, I says.

I was hopin I wouldn’t hafta, says Jack. But would it of made any difference? Anybody?

Everyone shakes their head.

Hell no, says Emmi.

We decide to let the horses go. We unwrap their feet an set ’em on their way across the lake. This way, there’s at least a chance they might make it safe to th’other side. Once the wurms come out, they won’t have no chance at all.

I lean aginst Hermes’ head. I stroke his soft nose.

Saba, says Jack. Time to let him go.

I look into his wise brown eyes one last time. Thank you, I whisper. Then I stand back. Go on, I says.

He trots a few paces away. He stops. He turns to look at me. I raise my hand in farewell. He tosses his head an whinnies. Then he heads off after th’others.

As I watch him go, I know I’m watchin my best chance of reachin Lugh by midsummer disappear. I wanna blame somebody fer the mess we’re in, but yellin at Jack or Ike or anybody else ain’t gonna change nuthin. We’re all in this together now.

I turn around.

So, Jack, I says, what’s the plan?

We work fast. We ain’t got much time before the dark comes.

My hands move, my feet move. I push down the fear that’s risin in me. There ain’t no room fer it, ain’t no time fer it.
Jack’s in charge. He says to do somethin, we all do whatever it is right away. We don’t ask no questions, don’t ask him what his plan is. We’ll be findin out soon enough.

He gits us to gather as much wood as we can find. Branches, twigs an trunks of long dead trees blown here by the mountain winds. No matter how big or small, we find ’em an carry or drag ’em to Jack an Ike.

Then we bundle together all the small bits an tie ’em with nettlecord. We break up what bigger branches we can by hand an them that’s too big, Ike chops with his hatchet. Then we start to lay ’em out in a big circle.

Jack calls me over. Count how many arrows we got, would you? he says.

I empty my quiver. Lucky Maev sent me off with a full load. Then I go around an count what’s in Jack’s an Epona’s an Ash’s quivers. Ike’s got a bolt shooter as well as a crossbow, but he’s only got a few bolts fer ammo so we’ll hold the shooter in reserve. Emmi an Tommo both got slingshots. I do a quick arrow count. Then I count agin to make sure.

Two hunnerd an eighty eight, I tell Jack.

He flashes me a tight grin. That’s better’n I thought, he says. Wrap the heads in bits of cloth, whatever you can find.

I reach fer the bottom of my shirt. It’s soaked through with sweat from the climb an the heat, but I should be able to rip a strip from it.

No, he says. Dry cloth. It’s gotta be dry. See how many
bottles you can scare up. An ask Ike fer some of that pine sap vodka of his.

Now I know what his plan is.

Fire. We’re gonna fight ’em with fire.

The wood’s laid out how Jack wants it. It’s heaped in a big circle ready to be lit the moment he tells us to. We’ve left a good-sized open space in the middle. That’s where we’ll stand an fight. Inside our fortress of fire.

We’ve made torches with bundles of twigs tied to the ends of branches. Now, with one eye on the darkenin sky, we’re all workin fast to tie cloth strips around the arrowheads. We’ve torn up bits of our bedrolls, even our shirts an tunics. Whatever we’ve got that’s dry.

Ike’s poured some of his precious vodka into bottles, two fer each of us. As soon as we git a pile of arrows done, Emmi an Tommo take ’em away an stick ’em, head down, into the bottles. Ready to be pulled out, lit an shot. We only manage to fit a handful of arrows in each bottle, so once the action gits goin, it’ll be their job to keep ’em filled up. That an slingshot duty.

Ike’s workin next to me. You crossed the lake that night with Jack, I says. Where’s yer scars?

Jack took the hit instead of me, he says. I wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t of got between me an the wurm.