The Ark Plan (10 page)

“Shawn? Are you okay?” I craned my head, trying to look over my shoulder.

“Been better,” he grunted. He tried to readjust his grip, and the motion sent us swinging.

“I bet you're wishing for that harness about now, aren't you, compound boy?” Todd grinned.

“Not even a little bit,” Shawn said through gritted teeth. Todd barked a laugh. I peered down at the green predators with their arrow-shaped heads and mouths full of teeth, and shivered.

“Just hold on,” Todd said. “We should be up in the house soon.” I realized then that he was right. The creatures were growing increasingly small, and I looked around myself for the first time. I could see out over the tops of the trees and glimpsed the horizon for the first time in my life. The sun was huge and bloodred in the sky, and I gasped as the whole world spread out before me.

“It's beautiful,” I breathed. “Shawn, are you seeing this?”

“All I can see is the back of your head,” he grumbled.

“Are you sure you guys are okay hanging on like that?” I asked.

Todd smiled. “I could do this all day, don't worry about me. It's your buddy I'm worried about.” With a sharp jerk, our ascent stopped, sending us swinging back and forth alarmingly.

“Dang it!” Todd glared up at the tree house still thirty feet above us.

I wasn't enjoying the view anymore. “What happened?”

“Stupid lifter must have busted again; too much weight. Thought I fixed the thing.”

Shawn groaned. “This just keeps getting better and better.”

“What do we do?” I asked.

“We climb, or we hang here all night,” Todd said with a strained smile. “And as much fun as this is, I don't fancy sleeping this way with our hungry friends below. Do you?” I shook my head. The harness was already digging painfully into my shoulders and back.

“I'll go first. Shawn, follow me, and then Sky,” Todd instructed.

“Now you remember my name,” Shawn grumbled.

“You compound moles don't have much of a sense of humor, do you?” Todd said.

“I'm actually hilarious.” Shawn grunted. “Just not when I'm hanging thirty feet above angry dinosaurs.”

“Fair enough,” Todd said. He eyed me skeptically. “One piece of advice: don't look down. Or up, for that matter.”

“She'll be fine,” Shawn said.

“I wasn't worried about her.” Todd winked at me,
and I forced a smile onto my face. He grabbed the rope attached to my harness and began pulling himself up hand over hand. I watched him go, impressed. In less than two minutes, he had disappeared through a small square hatch in the bottom of the tree house.

“Well, this is just great,” Shawn grumbled as he muscled his way up the rope, cracking me in the back of the head with his flailing knee in the process.

“Just climb, will you?” I asked. “And don't fall. I don't want to watch you break your neck.”

“That makes two of us,” he said, craning his head to look down. “If it makes you feel any better, I don't think those green guys would even let me hit the ground before ripping me apart.”

“How would that make me feel better?” I muttered. He started climbing, and I watched until he made it to the tree house, not wanting to swing the rope any more than it already was. I took a deep breath to fortify myself and reached for the rope above my head. It was my turn.

T
he rope felt rough in my hands and the muscles in my arms were shaking within seconds. Cold sweat trickled down my face that I couldn't wipe away, and I questioned the sanity of people who lived this high up. As I climbed, my harness kept getting in the way, tangling in the slack of the rope. There was no way I would make it up to the tree house this way. I hesitated, hanging in midair, and made a snap decision. Unclipping the harness, I let the rope swing free. Someone muttered darkly above me, probably Shawn. I began climbing again, unencumbered. If I wasn't so focused on not falling to my death, I knew I would be terrified. Instead, I felt nothing but a cold, determined
focus as I pulled myself up inch by painful inch. Finally, I felt two sets of hands grab my shoulders and haul me upward. I flopped down onto the hard wooden floor of the tree house and lay with my eyes shut, panting.

“You okay?” Shawn asked. Opening one eye, I saw him glaring down at me. I blinked and nodded, still breathing too hard to reply. “I'm not even going to ask why you thought unhooking that harness was a good idea.” He extended his hand to me and heaved me to my feet. “It wasn't. In case you wanted my opinion.”

“I don't. And it wasn't nearly as dumb as not wearing one to start with.” I shrugged out of the harness and scanned the inside of the small house. Todd was talking quietly to a short gray-haired woman. When she turned to look at us, I could see where Todd had gotten his startling green eyes and dimple. She strode over, holding out her hand to me.

“I'm Emily Birch. Mother to this devil,” she said, giving Todd an indulgent smile. “I'm told your name is Sky, and I've already met Shawn. Poor lad's been having fits while you took your sweet time climbing.” Emily Birch leaned in and took my arm in her hand, encircling my bicep with her fingers. “Here's the problem, child. You have noodles where your arms are supposed to be. You need to toughen up. You're a pretty one, but pretty won't keep you from being someone's lunch.”

“Lovely welcome, Mom,” Todd said drily. “But they learned that the hard way today with a Big Ugly in the meadow.” Emily arched her eyebrow at her son and looked back at us sharply.

“Did you now? Well, you must have some luck.”

“They had Verde. I sent the little rascal out to create a distraction. She earned her dinner tonight.”

“You feed that thing?” Shawn asked.

“Of course we do,” Todd said. “I'm surprised she isn't here yet.” His face darkened momentarily with worry. “I hope she didn't get caught by those Nightmares.”

“She's much too smart for that, dear. I'm sure she is just lying low until the Nightmares move on. I'm sure she'll turn up by breakfast. Speaking of food, dinner is almost ready, and I can't remember the last time we had guests.” Emily smiled, turning back to the pot simmering on the small fireplace positioned in the corner of the room.

“She can't remember because we've never actually had any,” Todd whispered conspiratorially. “You just made her day. She's been hoarding extra plates for years
just in case
.”

I smiled. I thought that I might like Todd. He had a spark to him, as though he was so full of life that it slipped out of his pores. I wondered if I'd be like that
too, if I'd been raised in the sunlight and fresh air.

I looked around the tree house, marveling at the differences between this home and the one I had left just that morning. The walls and floor were made of a warm worn wood, and a cool breeze drifted in through the large windows. A few strategic holes had been placed in the walls and roof of the house to allow the tree's branches to grow and wind their way through unencumbered. Emily had taken advantage of these, hanging an odd assortment of pots and pans off one and stacking clothing on another. The main frame of the house was made out of something knobby and white, and on closer inspection I realized they were massive dinosaur bones. Todd saw me looking and grinned.

“They're light,” he explained. “We realized a long time ago that we could construct bigger houses if we used bones as the main supports.”

“They don't look light,” Shawn said skeptically, standing on his toes to peer at what had to be a femur that ran along the length of the ceiling.

“Didn't you know that a lot of dinosaur bones are hollow?” Todd asked, surprised. “They have more in common with birds than reptiles.”

“I'd heard that,” I admitted, “but I never really believed it.” I looked around the tree house in amazement.
Despite the bones, it was cozy and inviting in a way that I had never felt in the sterile gray of the compound. A threadbare couch and two heavily patched wingback chairs stood around the fireplace. A small, round table perched in the corner. I wandered over to one of the windows and looked out at the neighboring tree houses, their lights twinkling in the fading light.

Todd had begun to set the table. I moved to his side to help, taking the stack of plates from his hands. Each plate and piece of silverware was mismatched and chipped, and some even had delicate faded patterns of flowers around the edge. I held up a pale pink one and studied it. It was so different from the compound plates of identical size and shape. The glasses Todd handed me were equally unique, each one a different size, shape, or color, but when they were all arranged on the worn table, it looked wonderful. Emily carried over a large cast-iron pot and motioned for us to be seated.

“So what happened to the lifter?” Todd asked as he pulled off the lid and began ladling something thick and brown into our bowls.

“You know that thing is hit-or-miss.” Emily shrugged dismissively. “If you hadn't put triple the weight on it, you probably would have been fine. You'll just have to fix it tomorrow morning.”

“Can't wait,” Todd grumbled around a mouthful of stew.

“How many people live here?” I motioned to the surrounding tree houses, thirsty for information about this strange village.

“About thirty of us.” Emily smiled. “I think it might be thirty-one since Maggie had her baby last week.” I looked down at the delicious-smelling brown stew in front of me and took a tentative bite. It was richer and chewier than anything I'd had in the compound.

“This is amazing,” I murmured in appreciation. “What is it?”

“Roasted Duck Face,” Todd mumbled around a mouthful. “Jett brought one down two days ago.”

“Duck Face?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Todd said around a mouthful. “Really funky-looking dinosaur with this long nose that kind of looks like a duck.”

I almost choked in surprise, but forced myself to swallow my mouthful.

Shawn spat his stew back into his bowl. “This is dinosaur? We're eating dinosaur?”

“They don't seem to have a problem eating us,” Todd chuckled. “So why not?”

“What do you eat in that compound if you don't eat dinosaur?” Emily asked curiously.

“Root vegetables, mostly.” Shawn shrugged. “Things that can be grown or processed using grow lights. No live animals.”

“No wonder you're both so scrawny.” Todd grinned. I bit back a smile at the dumbstruck expression on Shawn's face. I didn't think anyone had called him scrawny in his life. People had called him short, but those people had regretted that decision.

Shawn reorganized his expression and swallowed whatever smart-alecky comment he was about to say. “So how does the government not know about you? I can't believe the Noah would let you live topside like this if he knew.”

Emily and Todd stiffened, shooting each other a look before Todd responded. “You're right. That's why he doesn't know, and we plan on keeping it that way. Jett was nervous about that earlier, but I think the fact that you're just a couple kids won him over. It's why you had to be searched. It's important that we stay off the government's grid.”

I nodded. It made sense, but I noticed that Shawn looked troubled. I didn't blame him. The fact that these people even existed made me feel unbalanced. I glanced at the door of the tree house for the fifth time in less than ten minutes and hoped that Jett really would stop by tonight. I hadn't been lying when I said that Shawn
and I needed to keep moving. Maybe he would know what was in the middle of Lake Michigan, or at least be able to tell me the best way to get there.

“Todd,” Emily said, interrupting my thoughts, “I just remembered that tomorrow is gardening day. You are going to need to look at that lifter tonight. I don't feel like climbing down that rope tomorrow with my shovel and pruning shears.”

Todd groaned, but Shawn sat up straighter.

“Can I help?” he asked. Todd looked at him like he was nuts but shrugged his assent, and they left through a small door at the rear of the house. Emily stood to clear the dishes, and I scrambled to join her.

“You have a garden?” I asked. I wanted to know more about these people who'd cheated extinction.

“Of course,” she said. “The Oaks has a rather large plot of ground just south of here.” When she saw my look of confusion, she smiled warmly. “We cleared out about three acres of trees in the middle of the forest. We used the timber to build the houses here in the Oaks.”

“But don't you worry about the dinosaurs?”

“The garden is surrounded by fairly thick trees,” she explained. “So we don't have to worry about any big-footed dinosaur stepping on our tomatoes. Now, the little ones,” she said, shaking her head in disapproval,
“those will destroy a crop of green beans faster than you can say scat. We have a fence, but they still get in every now and then.”

“I'd like to see it,” I said as I watched Emily scrub the dishes in a large pail of soapy water that she then dumped out a slot in the side of the house.

“No running water?” I realized, amazed.

“Too high,” Emily explained as she handed me another dish to dry. My eyes flicked to the door again, but when it opened moments later, it was only Shawn and Todd. Shawn was covered in what looked like thick black grease, and he was grinning broadly.

“The lifter is fixed,” Todd told his mom, flopping onto the couch.

Emily raised a skeptical eyebrow. “That was fast.”

“Shawn did it,” Todd said. “I've never seen anything like it.”

“You have a really neat system rigged up,” Shawn said. “It would be even more efficient if you used a bigger wheel mechanism; more torque that way.”

Todd laughed at Emily's confused look. “That's exactly what I looked like when he started talking like that.” He turned to Shawn, a disbelieving grin still plastered on his face. “I can't believe they taught you how to use a lifter in that fancy school of yours.”

“They didn't.” I smiled, feeling a surge of pride for
my friend. “Shawn's always been really good at that kind of stuff.”

“Not always,” Shawn corrected. “There were about three years there where I could take anything apart, but I couldn't put it back together again.”

I laughed. “I had kind of forgotten about that. Remember when you got a month of extra work detail for taking apart the microphone in the assembly hall when we were eight?”

“Assembly hall?” Emily asked.

“Work detail? Microphone? What in the world are you two talking about?” Todd shook his head. “It's like you're from a different planet.”

“I think we might just be speaking different languages,” Shawn said. “What you called a lifter, I call a simple luff tackle pulley and winch. Although I really think that a twofold purchase pulley with a larger wheelbase would work a lot better for you.”

“Right,” Todd drawled, sounding unconvinced.

“Hold it right there,” Emily said sharply as Shawn went to sit down on the couch next to Todd. Shawn jumped guiltily and stepped away from the couch. Emily chuckled. “Relax, dear. No one is going to bite you. I just didn't want you sitting on my couch with those grease smears everywhere.” Shawn looked down at himself, seeming to notice the smears of black for
the first time. Without ceremony, he shucked off his body armor, leaving him in the gray pants and shirt from the compound.

“Well, that just won't do,” Emily said, peering at Shawn's shirt. Large patches of the grease from his body armor had soaked through, leaving oily-looking splotches on his shirt and pants. “Todd,” she said as she absentmindedly examined the fabric of Shawn's sleeve, “please go grab a pair of pants and a tunic for Shawn. What is this made of?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.

“Recycled nonbiodegradables,” Shawn said.

“Strange,” she muttered. Todd handed Shawn a pair of the brown pants and a green tunic very similar to the one he was wearing.

Shawn took the clothes, but then looked around the completely open room and frowned. “Um, where should I change?”

Emily chuckled, and walked over to pull a long piece of fabric with rings on the top so it slid across the length of the tiny house. Shawn gratefully slipped behind the makeshift curtain. When he emerged moments later, I felt a pang of jealousy. Although the pants were too long and the shirt was a little too tight across the shoulders, he was wearing color. And not the muted colors of his body armor, either. This tunic
was bright, vibrant, more alive somehow. I'd never worn color like that. Sliding my own body armor off, I shoved it in my pack. I avoided looking at my gray-on-gray clothes that had been washed and worn more times than I could count. Before I could pad over to sink down in one of the chairs, a brisk knock on the tree-house door made me jump.