Lightning (26 page)

Treva looked to the old lady. “How much longer? Maybe an hour?”

The woman nodded. “Yes. I pulled him outside the gate and locked it again. I heard him stumbling against the fence about a half hour ago. So I'm assuming he left. Give them a little more time to clear the area and move on.”

“If you don't mind me asking, why were you so sure they wouldn't come in your house looking for us?” Selah took a seat along with the others. Mari handed her a bowl of aromatic roasted vegetables.

Treva cleared her throat. “Because she's a descendant. She has a direct familial line to a worker of the original Mountain project.”

“I'm ninety-nine years old. My mother lived to be a hundred and three, my grandmother lived to be ninety-seven, and my great-grandmother lived to be a hundred and four. That was G-G-maw's cast-iron frying pan I hit the guard with. That pan is as old as the concept of people living in this Mountain,” the old lady said with a chuckle. “I still got a swing after all these years.”

“It means she's like royalty in here. She doesn't pay for anything she needs, and her house is like a free point, a sanctuary, if you will, that no one can trespass.” Treva sopped up the gravy on her plate with a fat sourdough biscuit.

Selah's mouth watered. She grabbed a biscuit and a ladle of gravy. “Is that why you stay in the Mountain when you could go outside and be free?” she asked.

“Selah!” Treva's eyes widened. She stopped with the bread halfway to her mouth. “It's rude to ask a citizen that, especially an elderly one.”

“Now, now. She asks a valid question, and the answer is . . . not just because I'm an old lady, but you must look at it as a revolution of sorts. My whole existence has been a life of privilege and convenience. Why would I go outside where I'd have to take care of myself? I'm a little too old to take on an occupation. Must say, though, I'd be much happier if they weren't always giving us needles.” The old lady shivered. “I hate needles.”

Selah pulled her eyebrows together and glared at Treva.
You
ask the questions then.
Treva got the hint and laid the half-eaten biscuit on her plate. “What kind of needles are you being given? I didn't know of any such thing when I lived here.”

“They started a few months ago. We get them regular as clockwork now. Said they're inoculating us against some germs they think got in the Mountain when there was that big assault a few months back.”

Selah stared at Treva. Her mouth started to open. Treva waved her off.

“What kind of assault? I must have been gone by then.”

“Heard tell it was a big incursion of bandits wanting to steal Mountain technology. They beat poor Dr. Everling to within an inch of his life. The sweet man may never come out of the coma.” The old woman shook her head. “And his poor wife, Bethany, is a wonder, just such a wonder. She's been able to secure all kinds of help from business in the Mountain to refit her husband's lab after so much damage was done to it by those savages.”

Selah opened her mouth to speak and Treva gave her a sharp kick under the table, startling her. Selah squeaked and jumped. Treva gave her the look to keep her mouth shut.

Selah pursed her lips. “How do you know the inoculations are safe?”

“The Mountain wouldn't give us anything that would hurt us. We're the citizens.”

Selah wanted to scream at her, but she knew it would fall on old, deaf ears and do nothing but upset this beautiful
meal. She started paying more attention to what was going in her mouth than what was coming out of it, for once.

The thought crossed her mind that if she didn't have some providence, this might be the last meal she'd ever eat.

Suddenly there was a loud banging on the front door. “Open up!”

14 Hours to Egress

Selah's chair scraped back from the table at the same time everyone else's did, creating a great screeching groan that vibrated through her feet to her very core. The biscuit turned to a lump of coal in her stomach.

“You children git on down to the cellar. First door on the right, the shelf with the canning jars swings away from the wall. Open the door and travel through the tunnel.” The old lady ushered them into the kitchen and through a doorway leading to her underground storage.

They scrambled down the stairs with Treva leading the way into the room. Mari pushed the shelf away, and Selah pulled the door open. Voices drifted through the wooden floorboard.

Selah stopped. “Wait! They're in the house. They might hurt the old lady.”

“They wouldn't dare,” Treva hissed. She tried to motion them to the tunnel, but Selah stood her ground, listening.

“There've been citizen reports that fugitives broke into your house,” a man's voice said.

“Does it look like anyone has broken into my house? You're the only one breaking anything, and that thing is my peace. Now be gone with you,” the old lady said in a stern voice.

“I think we still better have a look around,” another male voice said. Footsteps creaked the boards above their heads.

Selah clenched her fists, but her teeth chattered. If the guards touched the old lady, they would need to be ready to fight. Her glance darted around the room. The long oak handle of a push broom leaned in the corner where it guarded a pile of floor dirt. She stepped on the broom and unscrewed the handle.

“What are you doing?” Mari whispered loudly. “They've got a lot bigger weapons than a stick.” She grabbed Selah's arm.

She shook her off. “We can't leave that old lady to defend herself after she took us in.”

“It's okay, listen!” Treva pointed up. Selah and Mari stopped to listen.

The old lady had apparently used a threat that worked. The guards were retreating. The last one's boots cleared the doorway at about the same time the door slammed shut.

Selah ran along the side road between Treva and Mari. Her breathing had leveled off about a half mile ago, so she
glided along with little effort. Treva held up a hand, and they ran in place to cool down. She called up their present coordinates on her ComTex and smiled.

Selah looked at the map. “We're much closer than I thought.”

“Someone is on our side.” Treva nodded.

“I wouldn't have thought so when we ran into that old lady's cellar. Do I look like I've aged five years from the stress?” Selah asked, her heart thudding hard against her chest.

“I thought we were caught for sure. I had a vision of staring at a dozen lasers painting red and green dots on our faces.” Mari shook out her hands from running with her fists clenched.

“Do you think they came back to her house?” Selah frowned, thinking the woman may still come to harm for helping them.

“I seriously doubt it,” Treva said. “They were trying to flush us out onto the street. I glanced out her back window before we headed downstairs and could see armed security waiting on the outside of her other gate. When we didn't come out the other side of the house, they probably figured it was a false lead.”

“We were lucky she had an escape route behind that wall rack. You seemed to know a lot about her, Treva. Was she a bandit or something when she was young?” Mari asked.

“No, you couldn't find a more upstanding citizen. I'd always heard rumors that her house, being one of the originals in the first colony, had secret passages that led to multilevel underground operations even more secret than the Mountain's projects.” Treva finished cooling down. She planted her feet and fisted her hands at her hips. “We've just found
credible evidence to support that. Too bad we'll never be able to explore the possibilities.”

“Why not? You could come back when all this settles down,” Mari said as she took the water flask Selah handed her.

Selah and Treva looked at each other. Treva shrugged.

Mari glanced at the two of them. “What am I missing?”

“We can't come back. That's why we needed to rescue you now,” Selah said.

“The Mountain colony is going to be inaccessible in about fifteen hours . . . forever,” Treva said.

Mari's face first registered concern, then fear. “We need to get out of here now! I don't want to stay in this smelly place forever. Which way gets us out the fastest?”

Selah realized Mari must smell the same odor she did. “We still have my family to find. Remember my brother Cleon? My mother and little brother are here too. They've been kidnapped by my stepfather, who is also responsible for bringing you here.”

“And I can't leave without Cleon.” Treva's voice hitched.

Selah gazed at her.

“Why are you staring at me?” Treva shoved the flask back in her belt holder.

“No reason.” Selah patted her shoulder. “We'll get to them.” She was glad to see some emotion from Treva after worrying that she harbored resentment about her uncle and the rabbits, even though she'd said she didn't.

“So you know where they are?” Mari looked relieved.

“We're headed in that direction. We only had a few miles to go when we were at the old lady's house,” Selah said.

“Was it my imagination, or did we come out of that tunnel about a mile from her house?” Mari asked, looking around at the scenery.

Treva looked at her with approval. “Very good. It was exactly a mile. How did you know that?”

Mari shrugged. “I've always been good with time and distance. When I was little, my father used to tell me I didn't have an excuse for being late.”

Selah liked seeing the two of them get along. “Speaking of late, Bodhi will probably be giving Mojica fits because we're so late.”

“I'd say we're only about two miles from our point. The old lady's tunnel brought us through Green in a straight line instead of zigzagging through the neighborhood roads.”

“Hey, what are you girls doing here?”

The three spun to face the soft baritone voice. A man in his late twenties with flat-top hair stood in the middle of the road. He did not look or sound like someone people could ignore. A well-toned chest filled his tight shirt, and the tattoo of an exotic bird with long tail feathers extended from the fingers of his right hand, up his arm, and under the rolled-up sleeve at his large bicep. He strode toward them with long purposeful steps.

Selah deliberated if they should run but decided there might be an advantage to being lost. “We seem to have lost our bearings on how to get to—”

Flat Top abruptly stopped toe-to-toe with Selah. His steel-gray eyes drilled into her. “Don't talk. Just nod to what I say, and do what I tell you.”

Selah's lip curled. “Excuse me, but why should we listen to you?”

“Hey, Conti, what've you got there? How come so many women for one man?”

The harsh voice spun the girls again. A large group of militant-looking young men exited the area the girls had been jogging toward. They were dressed in dark clothing and heavy boots, their chests crossed with leather strapping adorned with knife sheaths and looped lengths of chain. Two of them wore a large weapon bandolier slung over their shoulder, but many spaces for the cartridges were empty.

Selah tensed. The girls had almost walked into the middle of them.

“No, citizen, these are my sister's friends. I was just asking them what they're doing here when they should be on the next road over to get to our place.”

“We're so sorry.” Selah pasted on a contrite look and raised a pained smile. “We started talking and just weren't paying attention.”

The group of men surrounded them, taunting and looking them over. Selah shivered but planted her feet to keep from visibly trembling. She realized if Flat Top—Conti—hadn't intervened, they'd be the prey right now. Treva moved in closer on her left and Mari on her right. Her heart thudded fiercely.

“Come on, girls, Teena is waiting for you.” Conti gestured back the way he came.

Two militants stepped in their way. Conti jerked to a stop before the one on his right. The guy wore a sadistic scowl and had an ear-to-ear scar across the front of his neck.

“Do you actually think you'd get out of my Trac if anything happened to someone under my protection?” Conti slid his hand to the knife hilt resting on his right hip. Selah hadn't noticed the blade strapped to his leg. It ran from hip to knee.

“Do your best, Conti, but I know where most of your crew are defending your Trac at the moment, and I'm willing to bet that you don't have the manpower to stop me.” A bearded guy with a green bandana drawn tight around his head grabbed Mari by the hair.

She turned into an angry cat. “Let me go, you tree borer!” Mari clawed at the hands gripping her hair.

Selah and Treva lunged to her rescue but were held back by the others.

Conti drew his knife. “Buck, let her go, or I'll hunt you down myself.” He advanced, but the two in front of him blocked the way, brandishing their own knives.

Buck tried to kiss Mari on the neck. She head-butted him hard, and as he backed away she stomped on his foot, throwing him off balance. He skidded to a sitting position on the street.

Mari bounced around like a feline with its claws out, daring him to come closer.

All movement around her stopped. Selah watched transfixed as Mari challenged the guy.

Buck scrambled to his feet and pulled a long blade from a sheath draped across his shoulder. He had the same kind of sword tattooed on his right bicep, with a lightning bolt woven into it. “Now it's time to mess up that pretty face so it matches your disposition.”

“Mari, don't be foolish. That sword could slice you in half like a hot wire through wax,” Selah said. She didn't expect Mari to listen. The look in her eyes was too intense, and Selah felt helpless to do anything but beg. Buck attacked. Selah gasped. Her breath turned to short, shallow draws, making her dizzy. Treva gripped Selah's shoulder and moaned in fear.

Mari hopped to the side like a rabbit and swung around in time to kick him in the backside and send him sprawling again. She bounced back and forth on her feet, fists raised, and motioned to him again. “If you've had enough, you can just leave.”

Buck wasn't completely steady on his feet, but he charged Mari with his head low like a bull. She stood her ground until the last second, spun away from him, and continued around, bringing both of her elbows down hard on his back. He collapsed to the ground. Mari jumped on his back, grabbed a handful of his hair, and slammed his head to the road. He stopped moving.

She rose and stepped over Buck's unconscious body. No one had moved during her display. Conti stood with knife in hand. Treva remained motionless, gaping, and Selah wanted to clap and encourage Mari. But that wouldn't help with the rest of the militants, so she too did nothing but stare.

A hand grabbed Selah's arm and jerked her around.

“Nooo!” Selah screamed, thrusting out both palms.

The militant flew back four feet and skidded to the roadway. That broke the spell of Mari's moment. The rest of the militants hurled obscenities as they grabbed their fallen ones and scurried back into the night.

“Selah, did you hear me?” Treva walked around in front of her. “You did it again!” Her eyes were wide.

“Did what?” Selah felt a tingling in her arms. Her eyes narrowed. She looked at her hands. So did Treva, Mari, and Conti.

“How can I learn to do that move?” Conti returned his blade to its sheath.

“Is that what you were telling me happened with the bandits?” Mari grinned. “I like that!”

Selah looked at Treva. “I don't know how emotions make it happen. This time it was being startled that did it.”

“Remind me to never sneak up on you,” Treva said.

Selah smirked. “I just think it's funny that I've been training in hand-to-hand combat for months, and now, when I figure out how to use it . . . I'll have built-in hand-to-hand.”