The Neo-Spartans: Altered World (5 page)

              “The forest reveals to us where the pockets of edible plants are. We have to show it we don’t want to destroy them, overgrow them or change them. If it shows you a patch of onions, plant onions. If the forest reveals a few stalks of corn, plant corn. But don’t plant whatever you want wherever you want it. The plants will sense an imbalance and destroy it. But most of all, it will never let you back in.” Kilbert located one of this year’s graduates, a bear of a boy full of muscle and benevolence: “Amos, take the first and second year students and plant some onions among the ferns.” Amos puffed with pride. It was a huge deal for Kilbert to entrust the little ones to a student. Kilbert looked around and his eyes stopped on Quinn.

              “Quinn, you take grade six to the flooded area. You know what you’re going to do there, right?”

              “Wild rice,” Quinn was quick to respond, trying not to notice this was an easy and obvious task.

              “Take Gabriel with you.”

              Kilbert’s voice gave her a pang. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, repeating to herself, “It’s okay, it’s okay.” When she opened them she saw Kilbert staring at her. What was that? A question? A warning? Her mind whirred hastily. Reflexes kicked in. Quinn scanned the students’ faces. Gabriel was not among them. Stupid Gabriel! She had barely managed to form the thought in her head when—PLOP!—a nasty smelling, viscous glob landed at her feet. Quinn’s nostrils hissed as she inhaled in an attempt to suppress a scream. She looked over her shoulder to where a looming plant was opening and closing its mandible-looking leaves, readying for another “spit.” Kilbert fixed her with a chilling glance. It was amazing how his eyes remained kind but she felt as if she’d been dunked in a barrel of ice.

              “Not the place for ‘sisterly’ feelings, Quinn. Please, go find him.”

CHAPTER SIX

              Quinn’s sneakers beat the dry barren soil in a staccato rhythm. She was sprinting. Fast and hard. Her anger bubbled up but she wasn’t going to submit to it. She had a task and was going to do it promptly and efficiently. No emotions involved. Like a cheetah on a hunt, she covered the distance from the barren lands to the outskirts of the city in no time. Without slowing her pace, she weaved through the streets of the projects, a neighborhood for low income Eugenics that once seemed a grand gesture but now gaped like an infected wound on the flesh of the city. The crumbling apartment buildings and dilapidated low-slung stores were besieged by potholed streets and piles of junk. This was the true face of the Eugenics, Inc.’s controlled government. There was no money for fixing streets or new buildings. Everything was spent on the mass production of new organs and new people. Quinn felt a surge of anger. Her rebellious mind refused to adjust to the notion that people could deliberately spend billions of dollars to create genetically modified test-tube babies, and yet kick a woman in labor out of the hospital to die in childbirth. Her heart rate quickened as a jolt of aggression ran through her. She kicked a box and sent its contents flying. Better. Her mind calmed down and checked out the surroundings. An incongruous collection of low and high rises in various stages of disrepair got her attention. Perfect parkour park. She couldn’t believe that she had started looking at structures the way Gabriel did. She realized that chasing her good-for-nothing brother out of his parkour haunts and dragging him back to his duties was something she’d been doing 24/7 lately. Her thoughts entered a mad race and Quinn sprinted again. Why do I have to be responsible for what Gabriel does?, she wondered. Every time he messes up Kilbert looks at me as if it’s my fault. I’m just his sister. Make him accountable for what he does. But no, Gabriel fouls up and Quinn cleans up. If Dad had been around things would’ve been different.

              The thought constricted her throat. Quinn sat down for a second, catching her breath, fighting back tears. She looked into the distance, her eyebrows stubbornly knitted. She had to wrestle herself out of moments like this, moments when the memories of her father Declan rushed and slammed her hard against the wall of reality. She missed him so much, but the worst of it was the guilt she felt that she was failing him, that she was not keeping the promise she made. Didn’t he know what a handful Gabriel was? Maybe he did, but he knew how to handle him. Her frustration returned. Quinn jumped to her feet and ran again. But outrunning her nagging thoughts was not in the cards.

              Gabriel never acted up when Dad was around. He was never a brat. He was quite the little disciplined soldier. And now it’s all gone to hell. Under my watch. Why? The harder I try the more he messes up. And the way Kilbert and the Elders look at me and shake their heads. I know what they are thinking: “Poor Declan, good thing he’s dead and can’t see the shame these two are bringing to his name.” What do they expect me to do? Lock the little freak up in a glass jar and cart him around to where he’s needed? So, he has the gift, so what? It’s just a lazy way out. The rest of us have to read and study samples until our eyes leak out of their sockets so we can tell a good seed from a bad one, but my lazy bum of a brother has to stick his tongue out and—ba-boom—miracles! No sneaky altered seed can pass unnoticed by the Gabriel detector. This is so unfair! A gift totally wasted on somebody who couldn’t care less. Her feet were hitting the pavement harder and harder as she wound up herself in anger. She didn’t notice she had reached Terminus Station. Suddenly the prickly sensation running down her spine brought her back to reality. She quickly looked around and noticed people staring at her. Darn! Running. Again. The thought of how ridiculous it was to outlaw physical activity rattled in her brain. The rebel in her wanted to scream and protest. She had to get a grip, slow down and become invisible to the Eugenics. She found an underpass and disappeared toward the old train depot.

              When she emerged on the other side, Quinn hurried across the railroad tracks and proceeded toward the wrecked train depot with its adjacent maintenance buildings and the wretched dwellings for the people who used to work there. For the average person this site was hell on Earth, but for a bunch of crazed Neo-Spartan boys with tons of energy this was parkour paradise; hidden away from the sensitive eyes of the Eugenics.

              An opening on a solo standing wall gaped in front of Quinn. She went through it and stepped into an inner courtyard. It was filled with remnants of crumbled structures—bricks, post-demolition rubble, junked furniture. She walked gingerly, avoiding the shards of broken glass, while scanning the buildings that walled the courtyard. It all seemed quiet and deserted. The only disturbance was caused by the crunching of her steps. She ducked under a half-broken balcony and stood still. Moments later they appeared. Nimble shapes darting from building to building like monkeys in an acrobatic dance over the canopy of a jungle. Quinn recognized Gabriel and his buddies as they speed-vaulted over crumbling walls, leapt from seven story buildings onto lower ones, slid on loosely hanging corrugated iron roofs, then palm-spun on the ledges of balconies. They were fast and precise and made it seem so easy and so much fun. Quinn knew she would have an impossible time catching up with Gabriel and forcing him back to the forest. This was his thing, his territory. Not that Quinn lacked in physical prowess. She was stronger and she knew how to perform more than the basic set of parkour techniques. After all, this was part of Neo-Spartan training: self-defense and street evasion. Unlike the cops who relied heavily on the latest techno-weapons, the Neo-Spartans relied only on physicality. Therefore, any form of sport and martial art that could save their skin was practiced and perfected on a daily basis. Quinn was great at many of them and applied effort and discipline to excel even more. Gabriel didn’t subscribe to effort and discipline. He was adequate in most of them, but simply brilliant at parkour. Pure joy and an absolute absence of fear merged with his physical ability to produce spectacular acrobatic skill. Good luck to anybody trying to catch him while parkouring.

              Quinn focused on the group of boys. They had settled at the top of a tallish building at the far end of the court yard. She saw Gabriel and two other boys go over the balcony and spider their way down the drainpipe. They hit the pavement and lined up between the tall building and another slightly lower, half-demolished structure. Quinn knew right away that this was going to be one of those crazy contests where they’d run to the taller building and scale the façade by vaulting upwards from balcony to balcony until they reached the top. It was the ultimate parkour show-off—dangerous and exhausting.

              Quinn’s only chance to catch up with her brother was to sneak to the building and get to the roof before Gabriel finished the race. She covered the distance in quick dashes, crouching behind broken walls to remain invisible to the boys. She didn’t have to worry much. The muscle fest had begun and Gabriel and the other two competitors were in their own world of speed and concentration. Their pals on the roof were shouting encouragement and clocking their progress. Quinn took her chances and sprinted in the open all the way to the back entrance of the building. The windows on the first floor were all gone. She leapt with ease through the window frame, and in seconds she was out of the empty apartment unit and running up the stairs three at once. She didn’t have much time. The boys must already have been halfway up the building. She cranked up her speed, and just as she was rounding the fifth floor landing, the boys vaulted past the missing stairwell windows. Quinn glued herself to the wall, trying to become invisible. Once the last one cleared, she picked up her pace and ran to the top.

              It was a challenge to open the rusted door to the roof without waking the dead, but Quinn somehow managed it. Like a phantom, she made her way to the two boys who were shouting excitedly at the edge of the building. Judging by the noise level, it was a close race and Gabriel and the others were about to emerge over the rooftop.

              “Hi there.” Quinn’s sweetened voice made the boys spin around. The element of surprise and the cute girl factor addled their brains for a few seconds, giving Quinn enough time to flatten them and make sure they were not going to interfere with her marshalling duties. Gabriel appeared over the edge of the roof in his final upward vault. He landed with a tumble and was about to stand up when Quinn’s foot pinned him to the ground. He didn’t know what got him, but when she yanked him up and he saw her angry face, the enthusiasm of victory quickly evaporated. Gabriel groaned.

Quinn pulled him closer and hissed in his face, “I swear, you pull this crap again and I’m going to throw you off a building next time.”

              “You’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?”

              “Why wouldn’t I? Where are you supposed to be right now, Gabriel?”

              He wanted to curse and yell, but he knew she was right, and there was nothing he could say. It burned him that his buddies were having way too much fun at his expense.

              “Let’s just go,” he hissed back and they left the roof top.

Gabriel followed her obediently but after a few steps he back-flipped three times with such lightning speed that by the time his surprised sister turned around he was already going over the edge of the roof, which made Quinn gasp. She could never get used to Gabriel’s daredevil stunts. She made it to the edge of the roof in total panic and looked over, expecting the worst. Instead, she found her brother hanging like wet laundry a few floors down, his jacket caught on a metal rod that had once been part of the support for a balcony. Gabriel had hoped his backflip would position him in the right spot to grab onto a railing, but he had not foreseen the metal rod that had hooked his jacket. The silly image made Quinn’s tension dissipate and a burst of laughter escaped her tight chest—this was classic! Gabriel looked up and saw his sister enjoying his predicament way too much.

              “I hate to spoil your fun, but will you help me down before my jacket rips, or would you rather scrape my remains off the pavement?”

              Quinn shook her head and dashed to the door that led to the stairwell. When she got down to the floor where Gabriel was, she pushed her way out of the stairwell window and onto the metal rod to which Gabriel was attached by only his jacket. She shimmied out onto the rod and swung down like a trapeze artist holding on with her knees. Hanging like a lemur, she made it to the end of the rod where Gabriel was hanging off his jacket. She stretched one arm out toward Gabriel. He reached up and got hold of her hand. They both pulled up till Gabriel was level with the rod and able to grab onto it. He yanked free from the jacket and now grabbed the rod with both hands. He looked down at the balcony below but Quinn read his mind and clamped her hand over his arm.

              “You do that and all your buddies are going to hear about today’s Gabriel bail-out.”

              She had him this time. He looked down one more time and suddenly he tensed. “Shoot. Cop cruisers!”