Chapter 14

I don't know if we'll be stuck here forever. Mateo winces and flinches beneath my touch, but I press my hand against his injured knee even harder. "Just stay still," I snap.

"I'm trying."

"Then try harder."

Scowling, I wait until the bleeding slows and his new skin covers the raw injury. This time, I don't have my healing visions. Mateo looks like he's about to kill me, but he throws his head back and sighs instead. Most of his other wounds come from the twigs and thorns while running, so they close up quickly since they aren't too deep. He runs a hesitant finger over his newly-formed skin. "We've heard about what you guys can do, but few of us are lucky enough to see it. Outsiders don't have any of these mutations."

I pause and wipe the pus off my hands. "Speaking of that, are there only a few of you left?"

What about my parents?

The question remains lodged in my throat, and I brush it away instead. My gaze drops to the dirt. Finding a flower resting at my feet, I watch as more of them float down from the treetops, swirling freely in the air. I grab the one trapped between my laces, studying the sanguine petals starting to turn brown at the edges. I start plucking one petal at a time to ease the restlessness. Mateo rests a hand on my arm and takes the flower, gently turning me to face him.

My answer lies in his grim expression.

"It's not just about us. As it turns out, many things outside still exist, nothing like what you have here. Holding towns are still around, run by the Outsiders who saved me. Aria, there's a whole new world beyond this place. Not everything's destroyed," he says wistfully. Digging through his pockets, he pulls out a small photograph and hands it to me.

It's a polaroid of a small city. I run a finger over the waxy, overexposed photograph of a skyline, a pang of longing twisting in my gut. Then, it hits me. "Wait. This means that all of you could rebuild everything in a nuclear winter and survive with no side effects."

"The Sun is out for us, so we don't work in the snow anymore," Mateo says dryly.

"I don't get how no one noticed all of this. It's about time that someone came along and started asking questions." I wave the polaroid briefly before giving it back to him.

"They already have, Aria. Trust me on that."

Then, Mateo's eyes widen while he studies the sky. Tapping my shoulder, he points upwards. "That's called a vortex." The clouds gather into a stormy mass, but there's no wind here. A white light penetrates the center and sweeps the ground. I stiffen and watch as it carves a path across the dirt and extends into the forests ahead. Then, it disappears. Mateo drops to the ground, using a stick to write out some numbers, clicking his tongue as he does so.

"In a few hours, Eorius will appear again. Let's stay here and wait for morning to roll around."

A dull ache started in my arm, where the number of days we had left was etched. It prickles my skin. I watch as a sheen of stark silver traces the ink, reflecting the streak of lightning in the sky.

Mateo waves his hand before me, frowning while he studies my expression. I'm still not used to seeing him. Sometimes, I stare a little too long at the metal piece on his face. My gaze traces the edges of the contraption that clings to his skin. It feels like I'm talking to a ghost, or maybe I overdosed on Wanderlust, and this is the afterlife.

"Aria, snap out of it and get some sleep first. I'll stay on the lookout tonight." his voice comes out clipped and sharp. He leads the way back, and that's when the ache in my muscles catches up to me, the weariness beckoning me to seek rest. The haunting shadows beneath Mateo's eyes are more pronounced now, and his gait holds a slight limp. His expression remains hollow, hands clenched into tight fists—the look of a tortured man.

Figuring that he wouldn't sleep much, I take out water bottles and snacks from my rucksack. Hopefully, it's enough for his night watch. After I've set the supplies down, Mateo lets me inside his cabin and shows me to a bed made of straw. I head outside briefly after that and gather grass and boughs, tying them together for my bedding. Then, I lay out a disposable poncho I've packed over the top as a bedsheet.

More faces fill my dreams this time. I'm sure they were people I once knew. Although their features are as clear as day, their expressions are vacant as they walk past me and through me, as if they don't see me.

I awake with a start as soon as I feel a burning sensation on my cheek. A smudge of crimson trickles down on the poncho, inching its way toward me. In my sleep, I tossed and turned until one of the bough's edges pierced through the cloak and sliced across my cheek.

Mateo's bed looks untouched. Either that, or he's just woken up early. I wash my face when the skin is healed, using the remaining water sparingly before grabbing my things. Mateo is just outside the electric gates, and he fiddles with a trap in the ground. As I get closer, he conceals it in the soil until the faint glint of metal disappears among the swaying weeds.

He pauses and turns around, jumping slightly when he sees me. "Don't ever do that again."

I grin crookedly, but he only rolls his eyes and points to a set of thin wires some distance away from the traps. "Walk within the area I've marked. All you need to do is stick to your lane, and you'll be fine."

He sets his lips in a line before heading back inside the camp. I take a swig of water and shove Mateo's empty bottles inside my rucksack.

The grass has just started to dry out, and the creek is too contaminated. Soon, the animals will start moving away from here. Proxy is probably trying to force us into shifting our camp, but we'll find a way around that for now. I go back inside and find Mateo flopped on the bed, arms and legs sprawled over his straw mattress. "What do you want now?" he asks, voice muffled as he speaks into the bedding.

"I'm going to find us some food and water."

He grunts and starts speaking, but I'm already halfway through the door. Since he took the night watch, this is the least I should be doing. I grab my rucksack and quickly disappear into the woods. This time, I tried the other direction we hadn't explored yet. Here, the vegetation is lush and green, so there could be a water source nearby.

I keep going, trying to stay quiet even as the twigs snap beneath my feet. So far, there's deer and the occasional capybara, but I need something smaller. The smooth ground soon gives way to thorns, sharp rocks, and roots so entangled that I nearly trip over them. The Earth pulses with life, and it feels different, like living an existence tucked away from cruel expectations—a place to silently thrive without judgment.

Then, a shadow cuts through the canopies, moving so quickly that it might've been a trick of the shadows. But as I move a little closer, I recognize the vision of vermillion and black. It's a Death Flame. They're birds of prey that feed mainly on small mammals, and since they're here, there's a chance that I'll find some decent meat.

A trap snaps beneath my feet and scrapes my ankle as I take a few steps forward. Rough rope digs into my skin and hauls me up among the branches in the trees. I'm trapped in a net. Ignoring the growing throb in my leg, I twist around and grab my knife, sawing through the thick fibers.

The soft, thudding footsteps bring sweat to my hands, and the weapon slips in my grip. I listen again to the crunching leaves and splintering twigs. Gritting my teeth, I keep sawing until my wrist aches. A gasp tickles my ears. My heart stutters for a beat, but I never stop working through the stubborn rope. All sensation leaves my fingers; the strength sapped until numbness grips my muscles.

I don't want to move anymore.

Once I've freed myself, someone crawls out of the bushes with bruises and scratches everywhere. He struggles to his feet and limps ahead, stopping behind a tree. The pin on his shirt shows that he's a Sentinel. A Drudger bursts after him, and she grips her broken arm before breaking into a half-jog. She doesn't last long. Seconds later, she's slumped against a tree.

A man dressed in a black cloak emerges from the undergrowth. He's wearing a cloth that covers most of his face, and my gaze travels to the diverging arrows burned into the back of his hand. I watch with bated breath. Moving to the girl, he tilts her chin until she's forced to meet his stare. The edges of his eyes crinkle to reveal the beginnings of crow's feet, and I imagine the smug smile hiding beneath his mask. He injects a silver liquid into the girl's neck before moving to the boy and doing the same.

Soon, the man retreats into the shadows. He leaves no trace behind. No footprints or the slightest impression on the soil betray his presence. He probably gave them the same serum they used for my evaluation at the Institution.

Once I'm sure he won't be coming back, I take a chance, climb down the tree, and approach the Sentinel. He shifts back. "I don't need your help."

"But you'll—"

"Die. That's what everyone says."

I point at the area where the cloaked figure emerged from. "Do you remember the man who—"

"Look, I don't know what you're saying. I woke up here. I'm in the middle of nowhere, and fresh meat for whatever lives here. Also, I suggest you take your friend away before a nasty Hybrid Species gets to her." He gestures to the girl, who's now curled up and trembling.

"But you were with her just now. You came here together."

The boy narrows his eyes at me and shakes his head. "Never seen her before. When I woke up, she was already here."

Still frowning, he runs back into the thick vegetation and curses until his voice fades into the distance.

The girl is barely conscious by now. I rush to her, closing up her wounds the best I can. Sweat gathers on my brow. A warm, familiar stream drips from my nose and down my chapped lips. It's a sign that I'll need to eat soon and regain some strength, but I can't just leave her. She'll be easy pickings for a passing animal.

I start cutting and slicing different parts of the trap net, fashioning it into a hammock.

Dragging the unconscious girl by the arms, I wince as her bare feet dig into the hard ground. Since it's impossible to carry her, I drape her body over one of the lower-hanging branches. Then, I slowly scale the rest of the way up, moving her dead weight until we reach the hammock. She now lays on her side, covered in vegetation thick enough to hide her from prying eyes. Before leaving, I cover up the drag marks and hope for the best.

The ground grows moist as I press on. Dampness clings to my feet until every step grows unbearably itchy. A splatter of water from a bubbling spring lands on my skin, and I bend down to find some Omela flowers growing near a tree. I tear a leaf from the stem and skim the water with it, but it doesn't change color to indicate contamination. Someone must've purified the spring with the petals already.

After filling up my bottles, I follow the path of the soaring Death Flames. They circle briefly in the sky before landing among the trees and blending in with the foliage. Their red bodies quickly turn jet-black, swaying with the subtle movements of the leaves. The only way to find them is to look for their wary, silver eyes that scour the undergrowth. I observe as the birds pick off the rodents or some small, mutated mammals before making my move. Already, there's an injured rabbit, and its hind legs are still bleeding from the Death Flame's talons. Before it slips away, my knife finds the animal's jugular.

The hunt was a mild success. An opossum and a rabbit now dangle from my hand, but seeing how their ribs strain against their skin, I doubt they'd last long, even with strict rationing.

Voices waft through the stillness of the forest on my way back. They're muffled but don't seem too far off. Off to my side, the leaves rustle with movement, and a column of smoke rises high to the sky. My steps are slow and deliberate, almost imperceptible, as I position myself behind a wall of trees. The cloaked figures are here.

There's a symbol burned onto their necks, but I can't tell what the design is.

Then, I spot the man from earlier. The scar on his hand is bleeding now as he emerges from a tent with fresh vials of the silver serum, tucking them away in small compartments sewn to his belt. Someone claps him on the back and leads him to a group at the side. They speak in hushed voices that tickle my ears and feed the blistering frustration coiling within me. I need to know what they're saying.

Conversations drift all around me, but none are loud enough for me to pick up on anything. Careful not to step on a fallen branch, I make my way to the group instead. My face grows hot beneath Eorius's heat while I balance on a tree's swollen root. I don't trust myself enough to walk among the dead leaves. The crunch could give me away in a heartbeat. Fidgeting in my uncomfortable perch, I focus again on the small gathering. Everyone folds their arms, tilting their heads up at one another in silent challenge. The tallest one among them speaks up. "Find him, and don't stop until you do."

Their voices are soft again. Occasionally, random words spill out, but that doesn't help when I can't make out anything else. I silently curse as they move further away until all I can hear are mumbles, their lips moving so quickly that I can't even guess what they're saying.

A sudden, scalding warmth spreads through my foot. Hissing through my teeth, I look down at the trap I just walked into.

The blood is sticky between my toes, but I fight the urge to scream as I try to free myself. Using my knife, I slide it between the contraption's serrated teeth, but it clamps deeper into my burning skin. Thrusting my weapon to the ground, I strangle the handle as I slump against a tree.

I don't know how long has passed, but I can't stand another minute staring at the steady flow of crimson anymore. Slowly, the errant chatters grow more distant, and their words are more like slurs. Insects crawl over and beneath my skin. A flash of white fills my vision, and my hands are melting away now. Bitterness stings my tongue, and I'm vaguely aware of the heat gathering at my fingertips.

Was the trap poisoned?

I bring my hands to my face, realizing I can barely make out their shape. Then, in the shadows, a silhouette begins to form. Slowly, it morphs from that of a man to a boy before disappearing completely. It grabs my arm, and a sudden jolt of electricity scuttles across my skin.

A face comes into view. "Aria, what are you doing here?"

While I blink away the floating specks in my vision, I'm tempted to ask how he knows my name. The question is on the tip of my tongue, but I can't speak. Each breath is short and shallow.

"Since they couldn't find me, I thought of coming to them instead," he whispers, making small talk to distract me while he breaks the trap and takes it with him. Soon, his words become slurred. My head lolls against the stranger's chest, and the last thing I hear is the pounding of a beating heart.