The Interrogation of Ashala Wolf (The Tribe) (12 page)

BOOK: The Interrogation of Ashala Wolf (The Tribe)
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The white light faded, leaving me standing once again on the grasslands, disoriented and alone. Everything seemed the same as before — yellowy grasses, rocky hills, distant tuarts. And the far-off thumping that heralded the approach of the dog-beast. I turned to run for the trees, but a giant boulder came thrusting out of the ground, grass and dirt flying everywhere as it rumbled to block my path. The same thing happened in every direction I tried, except when I faced the sound of the dog’s pounding steps.

Ember appeared in front of me. “I’m afraid they’ve upped the settings, Ash.”

“So what do I do?”

“Get hold of the dog’s collar,” she answered promptly. “I’ve been thinking, and I’m pretty sure it represents the command pathways of the machine. If we have it, we can give him new orders.”

“How am I supposed to get it?”

“You grab the thing!” I looked at her doubtfully, and she added, “You know how when you Sleepwalk, you can do impossible stuff because you know you’re dreaming?”

“Yeah . . .”

“This is a bit the same. We’re in
your
mind, Ash. If you believe you can do something, then you can.”

“Em, I’m not sure —”

But I never got to finish the sentence because the beast came loping over the horizon. He swerved toward us, letting out a bloodcurdling howl, and Ember vanished.

I yelled, “Wait, Em, I still need your help!” She didn’t reappear, and the hound was barreling forward at an impossible speed. Focusing on that shiny collar, I ran for the beast, keeping a single thought in my mind as I tore through the tall grass:
I can do this, I can do this, I can do this, I can do this.
Energy burned like fire in my veins, and I sprinted faster and faster until my pace matched that of the hound.

The two of us leaped for each other, but I’d been quicker off the ground, hurtling upward as he dived for the space where I’d been. I twisted to land on his back, and he snarled, bucking and flinging back his head. Dodging his snapping teeth, I clung on with my legs, feeling frantically around the edge of the metal collar until my fingers encountered a latch. I’d just managed to unclasp the thing when the dog bucked again, sending me sailing through the air with the collar clutched in my hand.

I hit the ground hard, the shock of the impact reverberating through my entire body and knocking the wind out of my lungs. After a moment, I managed to roll painfully to my side and sit up, only to freeze in place when I saw that the massive black beast was standing a few paces away. Except he didn’t seem to be interested in attacking me. His entire attention was directed at the collar lying in the grass. I seized hold of it, horrified to find the thing was lined with a series of long, nasty-looking spikes that were wet with blood. The lights were still blinking, and I could see now that there were tiny buttons beneath each of them.
Is that how I’m supposed to give him new commands? By pushing buttons, like Grey?
The dog trotted over, bending his head and waiting for me to put the ugly thing back on him. I gazed at the bleeding gouges in his neck, my mind racing.
None of this is real, remember? He’s only a black box.
Except it was real, and he wasn’t only a black box.

“You’re a prisoner, too, aren’t you, boy? Like me, but with a different collar.” He whined, tipping his head to one side.

I staggered over to the nearest rocky hill and threw the collar on the ground, searching around for a sharp rock. When I found one, I crouched beside the metal band and brought the rock down on it with an almighty smash. The lights went out, but that didn’t seem like enough, so I kept going, hitting it over and over until I’d reduced the entire thing to mangled pieces.

Feeling immensely satisfied, I threw the rock away, panting from exertion. The dog ran over, wagging his big tail. He didn’t look menacing anymore. In fact, he seemed kind of goofy. I grabbed at his nose. “Never again, do you hear me? You’re your own dog now.” He gave me a big slobbery lick. “Woof!” he barked, bouncing like an overgrown puppy. “Woof, woof, woof!”

“You do realize,” said a dry voice behind me, “that you’ve given the machine power over itself.”

I scrambled up guiltily. The dog caught sight of a butterfly and took off after it, bounding across the grasslands. “He’s a good dog, Em!”

“He might
not
have been a good dog, Ash, and there’s nothing to prevent him from attacking you — or rather, your mind — if he wants.”

“Why didn’t you try to stop me, then?”

“I’m you, remember? How successful have you ever been at stopping yourself from rescuing something?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever
tried
to.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s kind of my point. Besides,” she added, waving at the hound, “this is what you do best. It’s just like the Tribe. People come to the Firstwood all hurt and scared and angry at the world, but the only thing you see is the good in them, the greatest version of themselves that they could be. And somehow, most of them grow and change until they start becoming that person.”

“It’s not
me
that does that,” I protested. “It’s freedom.”

“It’s so not, Ash.”

I opened my mouth to argue. But it was ridiculous to have a debate with myself, so instead I watched the dog, who’d given up on the butterfly and was rolling on his back with his metal paws in the air.

“Do you think they know that they’ve lost control of him yet?”

“They will soon if we don’t give him a memory.”

I grinned. “Let’s give him a totally useless one, like my fifth birthday party.”

“Or we could give him the one they want.”

“Very funny.”

“I’m not joking, Ash.”

I turned, puzzled, and saw that she was holding something above her head, a long stick that curved in the shape of . . . a
snake
? Panicked, I lunged for it but found that my movements were sluggish and weak. Ember stepped back, easily evading my slow grab. “Sorry, Ash, but I can’t let you interfere now.” Then she threw the stick into the air, sending it flying toward the dog.

I couldn’t even move my head fast enough to see the dog leap for it. But I heard the cracking snap of it breaking, and I knew the secret I would have died to protect was about to be spread out across a screen for my enemies to see. Ember disappeared, and my mind wailed in horror,
This was all some kind of terrible trap!

Then the grasslands faded away, and I was dragged into the memory of what I’d been doing in Cambergull four days earlier.

I toyed with the river stone hanging around my neck, thinking that I didn’t much like warehouses. The air was musty, and the windows set high in the wall let in so little light that if I hadn’t known it was early morning, I might have thought night was approaching. Sighing, I shifted into a more comfortable spot. I was sitting on top of a big container, and I’d carefully positioned myself so that I had a view of the door but was still half concealed behind yet more containers. Cambergull was a farming community, and generally these warehouses held either wool or foodstuffs like grain and vegetables. Not this time, though. Everything in here was for Detention Center 3. I’d been excited about that until I’d discovered the only thing the containers had in them was boring office supplies. Running a detention center involved more paperwork than I’d ever imagined.

The door to the warehouse slid open, and I tensed as a tall man slipped inside. He was wearing a long coat, a hat, and a scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face.
Guess this is the guy.
“Over here,” I called.

The Serpent strolled forward until he was standing a few paces away. I couldn’t tell much about him, other than he was broad shouldered, green eyed, and — apparently — somewhat paranoid.

“So you’re Ashala Wolf,” he said in a gravelly voice.

“And you’re the Serpent. Nice scarf.”

“It is best if as few people as possible know what I look like. I am something of a wanted man, you know.”

“The government’s not exactly my biggest fan, either, but I’m not going around all wrapped up.”

“You live in a forest, Ashala. I must move through the towns and the cities.”

“And just what,” I demanded, “are you
doing
in the towns and cities?”

“I am building a network, an alliance of Citizens, Exempts, and Illegals alike, who wish to see the Citizenship Accords repealed.”

That doesn’t really tell me anything.
“I’ve heard the rumors about you. You’re supposed to have some kind of reality-bending ability.”

“I do, but I am not going to tell you about it. I’m here because I thought I should inform you that there is going to be an attack on Chief Administrator Neville Rose’s . . . project . . . in the Steeps.”

I straightened. “What
is
Rose doing in the Steeps?”

“That is not information I intend to share.”

“Why not?”

“Because you are an amateur.”

“I’m a
what
?”

“I admire your spirit,” the Serpent told me, “but you have no idea what you’re doing, other than encouraging children to ‘escape’ to a particularly dangerous part of the world. All things considered, I think it would be best if you stayed out of my way.”

“Why did you even bother coming to speak to me, then?”

“Because what I am planning is going to stir up a great deal of trouble. I thought it fair to tell you that you might wish to withdraw farther into the Firstwood for a while.”

I glared at him. “What you’re really saying is that the government might think the Tribe had something to do with your attack, seeing as we’re living so near the center. They’ll retaliate against us.”

“Yes,” he conceded. “That is a possibility, although I doubt it’ll come to that. I’ll ensure it becomes known that I am responsible. Besides, after Friday, the government and Neville Rose are going to have far bigger concerns than your group of runaways.”

He sounded so dismissive that my fists instinctively bunched, and I wanted nothing more than to leap off the container and pull that stupid scarf off his face. I might have tried it, too, except it was a bad idea to start a fight with another Illegal when you didn’t know exactly what his or her ability was.

With an air of finality, the Serpent said, “It has been . . . interesting to meet you, Ashala Wolf. Now take my advice, and get your group into the woods.”

He walked swiftly to the door and was gone before I could say another word. I sat there for a good five minutes after he left, fuming. Finally, I thought,
I might not know who he is, but I can certainly find out what he’s targeting.
I didn’t care how dangerous Ember said it was, I was going into the Steeps myself to find out what the high-and-mighty Serpent thought was worth attacking.

I pushed myself off the container and left the warehouse, absently rubbing my nose as I considered the best way to approach the Steeps. My mind was busy with plans as I hurried past other warehouses and started down the road that would take me out of Cambergull. I hadn’t taken more than a few steps when someone yelled out my name and I found myself staring straight into a pair of all-too-familiar blue eyes.

I was caught.

I returned to the world in the windowless room. There was no way for me to tell how much time had passed, but I had a sinking feeling that it hadn’t been very long. Everyone was standing exactly where they’d been before: Connor, statue-like by the door; Neville, horribly triumphant at the end of the chair; and Grey behind the black box, saying gleefully, “I told you my machine would get you the answers.”

“Excellent work, Miriam. I must apologize for doubting you.” Neville moved to stand over me, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “I really did think you’d put up more of a fight, Ashala. It seems you’re not as strong as I thought.”

I wanted to slip into unconsciousness, to escape — however briefly — both Neville and the knowledge of how I’d betrayed the Serpent. But I remained awake and aware. Swallowing, I forced out some words. “The Serpent won’t come now. He must have heard I’ve been captured.”

“I’m afraid,” he told me smugly, “that no one outside this center knows if you survived the wound you took in Cambergull. The ‘Serpent’ may gamble on you having died before you were questioned. Besides, even if he doesn’t come, it does me no harm to be prepared. But if he does”— Neville’s smile widened, his teeth gleaming in the light —“then we have him.”

BOOK: The Interrogation of Ashala Wolf (The Tribe)
10.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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