Ash and Stone XV - Asaio
ASAIO
I don't know how much time passes while I’m alone.
I think to leave me in a room full of nothin and nobody is the worst sort of torture someone could inflict on me.
I don’t remember a time when I was alone. I lived in an orphanage for a bit, then I met Isaela and Sans—they are my earliest memories. Then I joined a gang of boys that wanted to be smart but weren’t. Got themselves all locked up in the Slaughter Houses and were served to me on a silver platter as punishment. The Bloodmixers and Butchers thought to let me go since I was the youngest, probably round four or five, and hoped I’d remember that Moon forever. That Moon was the closest I ever was to bein alone, and I still had Sans to run back back and cry to.
I think back to a Moon with Seran.
I worshiped him. Still do. He was a few cycles older than me when he died, closer to bein an adult than anythin. He had a great sense of humor and was why everyone loved our old gamblin hub. He drew in girls like flies and drew in men cause they liked his energy and he’d always offer up free drinks that Ze and I stole from the Market Street. He’d be the Charmer while us kids rigged the desks and cards, stole from misplaced bags of drunken mistresses and misters. He coached us into actin and said that the best con man is an actor, not a thief. He had a bunch of lovers. I don’t think he loved a single one, not the way Vernon loves Lahla, but he damn sure loved us.
That day, I was seven or somethin. Probably seven, and it was the year Seran was goin to die. I remember it was just me and him in the backroom of the hub—a sort of VIP area we’d constructed for the extra-wealthy, where Seran would get his most formidable con ideas. There were velvet cushion seats that we covered with grimy, quilted sheets whenever them lickers came.
Seran began findin refuge in this room as his plague symptoms got worse. Like Vernon, his plague came over his arms first. I knew it scared him, to lost control of his dexterous fingers. Here, he often found time to Pray.
Us Garnets never visited the Temples directly. The roads there were too dangerous and we were too scrappy lookin to be smiled upon by the Fathers, less it were the Tyn Temples, and those are hardly cared for. He normally did this alone, but that Moon he asked me to Pray with him.
I was never one for Prayer, but Seran was devout, despite bein the headringer of our connin. I often wonder how he and Shis would get along if he were alive to meet her. He trapped a rhythm that was been real common with the City buskers recently. He asked the Moon Tyn for good profits and the passin by of wealthy tourists with pockets that need “alleviatin of weight.” I snickered at that and he glared at me, so I shut right back up.
Thing was, Seran was also a ragin drunk, so his Prayers got a little silly.
“...and keep sendin the girls and boys with the good figures to me, if you know what I mean, Moon Tyn,” he laughed. “And keep little Piebald safe. Keep all my family safe, but especially him. You know, you’ve been real kind about keepin the plague off him all the time I’ve known him, but keep him safe from that too, you know. I hear about the Fortress Boy and I don’t want Piebald to end up like him, you know, Tyn? Yeah. You know.”
I frowned. “The Fortress Boy?”
He nodded vaguely. “He don’t got the plague either and is, like, a public experiment now. That ain’t gonna be you, Piebald. Not under my watch. Or Tyn’s. I’ll kill you myself before that happens. The world ain’t gonna tear you apart, limb for limb.” He eyed me. “You know I would. Same with Sherald. And Ana. And Vip and Ze.”
Then he grabbed me by the head and kissed the top of it. He pulled me into a long embrace. I could feel his back shudder, but I’ll never be sure if he was cryin or not. Or if he did cry, if it was because of somethin I did or cause he knew he would be gone soon. All I knew was that death would be more preferable than a life without him, just as he had implied.
Except I lived on. And I wonder, in this lonely cell, how long I would last livin on. If what Yaselle said is true, and I’m Enlightened, I’ll outlive all the Garnets.
If what Yaselle said is true, and I’m Enlightened, then I’m suddenly like the Fortress Boy. Suddenly, I’m somethin different from the rest of everyone else. Suddenly I ain’t just a survivor on the streets, like all the others. Suddenly, I am a title.
That thought terrifies me.
I realize I’m rubbin my arms against my chains, cuttin through my own skin. The shadows on the walls start to freak me out. They’re crawlin real high, creepin in a little too close. I close my eyes and try to will myself asleep. But that’s the thing. I’ve never been able to sleep without a Garnet curled up right next to me.
***
“Asaio!” Yaselle greets, the sound of the locks on the door wakin me up from the half-sleep, half-lucid state I was in. Somethin bout her’s changed. She walks in grinnin and, in a very expressive manner, her face falters at the sight of me. “Oh! Were you asleep? I am so sorry to wake you, but there seems to be a problem.”
“Yeah?”
She glances at my arms. They bleed. The cuts are probably deeper than the feel, rusted metal seepin into my skin, taintin my red blood. Not black like everyone else’s, but red. I remember a story Lahla told me. How, where she came from, to keep the youngest kids from bein haunted they would feed them rotten food, plague-ridden meats, to contaminate the red Pure blood in their body, darkenin it so it’s less appealin.
“I’m sorry. I should have undone the chains, shouldn’t I?”
“I dunno.” My head is poundin from exhaustion.
“Your friends never arrived on Punnet Street to answer our terms,” Yaselle muses. She has a girlish walk, almost a skip in her step and a nauseatin smile. “Your red-headed friend said that he would let them know they could negotiate anything they wanted in exchange simply for you. And they never showed, Asaio. And so this was only natural, I suppose. That they do not trust me. That is alright. But then, when my Bugs arrived, there seemed to have been an issue.” She leans in very close to me. “You know what it is, don’t you?”
I shake my head.
The way her heels clack against the stone ground, echoin as she moves farther away from the single green shroomlamp and into a shroud of darkness sends a shiver up my spine.
“What was the issue?” I demand. “What did you do?”
“Nothing,” she says. “Your friends seem to have disappeared. But I believe that this little… stunt will backfire on them. Here is something you must understand, sweet Asaio, and something your friends must as well: you are never as smart as you believe yourself to be.”
“What do you mean disappeared? Yaselle, wait—” But she’s already walked out the door. It slams behind her.
Panic courses through me. I pull against the chains. I ignore the pain as the metal cuts through my highly exposed flesh. Against my bare chest. On my shoulders. My wrists. My stomach growls.
The scent of my own blood leaves me nauseated. I’m so hungry.
The real animals died of the plague cycles ago, and it’s hard to grow much crop cause of the plague-ridden soil, less you’re a miracle worker like Michie. That’s why bread and soup shop lines are so long. In cases that are real bad, when the Slaughter Houses aren’t takin in any new bodies or when the Shops have shortages that get real bad, some people resort to autocannibalism. It’s also a stress-symptom. The smell of my own blood reminds me only of my own lack of power, despite the title of Enlightened. I am an Enlightened, confined by the same chains that keep away the weak, feeble plague-ridden, and my friends are out there doin Suns knows what—all because I got caught.
***
I wake with a jolt, my heart beatin and my hands shakin. I shut my eyes and count to ten, over and over. It’s an easy way to calm myself after a bad dream; that and not thinkin of it afterwards. The darkness all around me don’t help at all.
Suddenly, the front door opens. It slams against the wall, the sound reverberatin through my bones as I wince.
“Lady, what—”
But it ain’t Yaselle.
Rushin into the room are Seht and Ana, their faces burst out of the darkness like the old stories of phantoms Ze and Sherald and Shimmy would tell, the green light of the lamps they carry make them seem real hollow. Seht’s sharp, smart mouth is set in a determined line. It don’t look like either have changed clothes since the docks. Ana’s eyes is busted and covered with a cloth wrapped around her head. Relief courses through me.
“Oh Suns, you’re okay,” I gasp. “What are you doi—”
“We’re up and getting you out of here, idiot,” Seht says. He runs back round my chair and works at my chains. “I don’t know how to do this.”
“I’ll get him out,” Ana says. “You’re bleedin so damn much, Asaio.”
“It smells rancid,” Seht says.
Suddenly, the walls shark as the sound of a gun blast, then a scream, come from just beyond the tunnel hall. My eyes widen and I subconsciously pull at my bounds, makin Ana curse at me. “What was that?”
“Flynn and Vernon and whatever Bugs were outside that door,” Seht answers. He drops to his feet, despite not knowin how to undo the locks, and tries to work at em. “We have to make this quick.”
“Do y’all have guns?”
“No. The Bugs do.”
That’s an accomplishment, since most of the world ain’t transitioned to usin those weapons yet. No one but the lickers.
The sound of hurried footsteps, then Flynn and Vernon stumble inside. Vernon grips the edge of the doorgrame to steady himself. He looks exhausted, not even bandaged up, while Flynn holds the right side of his arm. It bleeds, his hair sweaty and greasy on his face. Nep and Pen slither in after. What were they doin in the hours between the docks and now? Did no one go to Sans or Isaela for medical care?
“What about—didn’t Asher tell you about the deal?” I ask as Ana undoes the chain around my chest.
“Yeah, I don’t trust any of that,” Vernon snaps. “You in exchange for… what? Everything we could ever ask for?”
“Too good to be true,” Ana murmurs.
“We’re better off on our own. Come on. We already have a place to hide out, thanks to that newbie, Asher. Good find, him, by the way.”
“You’re bleeding so much,” Flynn gasps as he picks up Pen. “What did she—”
“She didn’t do nothin,” I say. “No, really. I don’t think that what she offered was a bad idea. She was right, you know. If she’s right. If—did Asher tell you what she said? If I’m Enlightened then other gangs are—”
“Bullshit,” Vernon says with venom.
It’s rare he ever raises his voice like that. I glance at Ana helplessly and shut up.
She helps me out of the chair, brushin my hair back in an almost motherly fashion. “I don’t trust it either. I’d rather not lose you, Asaio.”
She takes off her cloak and wraps it round me, securin it fast with a pointy metal pin.
“Fuck, we’re out of time,” Vernon says.
Steppin into the room is Yaselle, lookin none-worse-for-wear.
Ana grabs me and shoves me behind her, while Seht and Flynn take point. I know for a fact that Vernon must be too tired to extend his limbs. Just standin there in front of me, he’s shakin voraciously. Seht’s a tank; enhanced strength and speed, but Yaselle’s trained, not just street-smart. And Flynn relies too much on Nep and Pen—he ain’t got many prospects without em. And, from the looks of it, the twin snakes are tuckered out. Nep tries to slither and wrap herself round Yaselle’s feet, but she shucks the giant snake off with her parasol. Flynn winces as though he himself were hit.
“Wonderful,” Yaselle says. Her voice seems softer, less animated. “You all have too much energy. You tire me, but I understand why the Enlightened surrounds himself with your company. You are tough. And smart. Leading my Bugs straight to the lickers like that, that was smart.”
She sighs. “But not smart enough. The cop-out? Everyone’s done it. Please don’t look at me like that. I am not a brute. I am not the Lime Men or the Rubies. Come with me, and we can discuss the deal that I am sure your red-headed friend failed to mention.”
“Nah, he mentioned it,” Vernon says. “But we won’t give up Asaio. Not for anything.”
“I think that is very valiant. But foolish.”
“Probably,” Vernon agrees. “But Asaio’s worth a lot more than a new home.”
“I believe this was my mistake, bringing him here, making him look like a prisoner—”
“He is a prisoner.”
“He is,” she agrees softly. “And I have much empathy for him. For his being a very, very powerful entity will release him from the prison of the mind that the rest of us are born within, and yet his being may cause him to be trapped in an even worse penitentiary.”
“He’s dumb as a rock,” Seht says. “Trust me, you don’t want him. Enlightened or not, no one wants him. He’s an absolute imbecile. He’ll up and willingly leap off a roof because you tell him the soil is soft beneath it.”
“Shut up,” Flynn murmurs.
One of her Bugs whispers somethin into Yaselle’s ear, but she waves him away. “Go. I want to talk to the kids alone.”
When he is gone, she continues, but not without pointedly glancin at the door, which remains open for us all to see, to walk through if we choose. “I’ll build you all a safe home, away from the inevitable chaos which will spring when the world finds out about your Asaio. Money, I can lend that. Name what you want, and I can get it. All I ask is for his time. I will not treat him wrongly. He will not even stay with me, he—”
“We want Asaio.” Vernon grabs me by the arm and hugs me, as though he’s afraid that by lettin go of me I’ll suddenly fall into Yaselle’s grasp. I ignore the pain as he squeezes the cuts on my wrist, blood seepin. “See, it don’t make much sense because there’s so little in this deal for you, and we’re all selfish asses.”
“No,” Yaselle murmurs. “I simply recognize what you do: that Asaio is worth so much more than anything else I have to offer. I will be frank. I win if he is part of mine. I’ve been incredibly honest about that. I’ve been incredibly honest about everything, actually, and that is a core value of mine. I promise to never lie. What else do you kids want? I know you struck a deal with the Mister Kamon. What is he offering you that’s so great you’ll intercept a Damaskragan merchant? I’ll match it. I know I can.”
Vernon says nothin of the fact that the only thing which Kamon really offered us was the idea of power.
“Everything has changed now that there are eye-witness accounts of a new Enlightneed in Mecraentos. It was probably a good thing you moved your warehouse to fool me—you fooled the Lime Men and Rubies inadvertently.”
I rest my head against Vernon’s shoulder as black spots pepper my vision.
Switchin up the warehouses?
“I am not tricking you all,” Yaselle repeats. “You can keep Asio with you until the home is provided. You have Heish. You have one of mine.”
“How do we know that this home will be safe?
“I can have my men stationed—”
“How can we trust your men?”
“Well,” she says slowly, “if you are that suspicious then you should truly remain alone. Kamon, how come you trust him?”
Vernon doesn’t answer.
“If Asaio is this powerful, why should we give him to anybody?” Flynn says.
“Suns,” she says. “Because only I have the resources to actually make his power worthwhile. Don’t you see? The Enlighteneds are nothing but a praised imagine. I can make him that. You all will be elevated with him—his Apostles. His Prophets. He is exactly what every gang wants—power against the Rubes, the nobles, the Industries, whatever it is. You kids have nothing. You are nothing but children. I am offering everything I’ve got. If you do not take my hand, I guarantee you lot will be arrested, sent to the Slaughter Houses, and Asaio here will be taken into the Fortress and brought to his knees in front of the Court. If you think the Slaughter Houses are bad, the Court is even worse. I am sure my Bugs have found your friends now and—”
“They wouldn’t have,” Vernon says.
She brushes back a piece of long hair. “No hero is as smart as he believes himself to be.”
“They wouldn’t have found them.”
She waves her hand. “Fine. Go. Walk away. I’ll watch, safe and happy, as you lot are slowly hunted down by every man, every woman in this City. I guarantee you won’t even last three Moons. There are none more vicious than the starving zealous.” She glances at Flynn. “I can tell he knows I am right.”
Flynn wears a pained expression, his pale face even paler. He chokes and covers it with a cough.
“It ain’t worth it,” I say. “We can’t run forever, if we have to, and we’ll probably have to, Vernon. It ain’t worth losin all of you for one, and y’all won’t even lose me. You won’t.”
Vernon glowers. He rubs his face and lets out a dramatic sigh. Then he turns to face me.
“You’re okay with this?”
“I’ve been.”
“Asaio—”
“I know, I know,” I say. I know what happened to Seran. “It’s fine, Vernon. This is better than Kamon.”
With an expression so pained you would’ve though I was bein sent to my death, he turns to Yaselle. “Fine. How do we… officiate this?”
“Can any of you read?” Yaselle says.
***
Yaselle leads us down the hallway into a similarly sparsely decorated room, covered in dust and debris, but much better lit and with a stone table in the center. The others all keep a pointed eye on Yaselle while she shuffled through a skin-bag of stone tablets. I lean against Seht and let myself finally breathe. My hands shake beneath the table. Seht takes my hand.
A tall, gruff woman steps in from aside and whispers to Yaselle.
“The Shaver?” she repeats.
I know she said it out loud specifically for us to hear. Vernon barely manages to wipe the smirk off his face.
“Well, well.”
And that’s that. She turns back to us and gestures at the tablet.
“In the times of old,” she says, “words used to be binding. But since the plague and the discovery of Purity and all its rules, that is no longer true. So we use blood-bindings to solidify deals. I do not know if you all are aware of the Code of Conduct.”
Vernon’s face must have said somethin.
“It is a silent agreement between the gangs of the City, and the Industry, and the authorities. It means that we are bound by blood, on occasion. When you are really a part of the game, you are not a savage. You do not raid for fun and kill for fun, as many of the lesser gangs do, and hope that gives you power. Fear mongering is no power.”
“The Rubies—”
“What they do is not fear mongering,” she says. “No, they are much more sophisticated than that. You will sign in your blood, here, agreeing that Asaio is one of my own, that I am responsible for him. Not one of yours. In exchange for all resources asked, I will provide. All. That is all you need to do.”
On top of the stone slabs are crudely cut symbols. “Are those words?” Ana says.
“Yes,” she says. “The best gangs are not illiterate, either. I have a home for you all in Minee.”
The others react in surprise to that. Minee is the alternate name for the ‘Mini City’, the slum of all slums in Mecraentos.
“That place is a wreck,” Vernon says.
“It won’t be for long,” she says. “And, besides, you will have a lot more freedom there.”
“Shimmy grew up there,” Ana murmurs.
“Did he?” Seht says.
I can see in the bag that there are many other plates. I wonder if this was planned too, that she’s lettin us see how many other contracts she got written in there, to prove she is trustworthy. Yaselle tells Vernon and Ana how they are to sign—it’s real particular. An art, she says.
Vernon and Ana sign.
After that, we are bandaged up and escorted out of the tunnel by Yaselle herself. It’s a long, silent walk to the surface. We were further underground than I realized. When we finally break the surface, a new dawn rises. These proceedings took nearly the entire night.
Yaselle says she will escort us to the warehouse to gather the others so that we can safely move to Minee.
“Don’t bring the rest of your Bugs,” Vernon says. “They make me nervous. Just you.”
“A test of trust,” she says. “Of course.”
We never make it back to the warehouse with her.
We’re only a few legs away from the tunnels, enterin the heart of the City, when Vernon glances at Seht and Ana and a silent agreement comes between em.
Because Seht grabs my arm, and then we book it.
We sprint, leapin over familiar roofs, Nep and Pen lurchin to keep Yaselle away. But, when I turn back to glance at her, I see that she didn’t even attempt to follow us. She just watches with a smile.
My legs burn. I can hardly think straight and I nearly black out from dehydration and exhaustion. Eventually, after eight hundred jarrin left and right turns, passin right over the Black Streets and a long string of angry people in Bread Lines, we pause to catch our breath.
I glance at Vernon. “Why—”
“I don’t give a damn bout no contract,” Vernon says. “They’re all the same. The Bugs, the Gem Lady. We are bringing Asaio back home. We ain’t just any kids, not just any street rats. We are the Garnets. We’ve conned nobles. We’ve escaped death countless times. We’ll figure something out. We always do.”
Ana frowns, and her expression worries me slightly.
Vernon’s always been a bit of a romantic. I think he’s sorta got to be, growin up with the crazy, smart, hero brother like Seran. A real rags to riches, orphan underdog sort of case. It’d be nice to think it’s that easy: got the right heart and brains to outsmart a lady like Yaselle, as though our petty street thievin has really trained us to be the exception.
I want to hope. So I do.
***
It takes us a long time to make it back to the ‘warehouse’ cause we’re takin backroads and, apparently, no one’s even at the warehouse anymore.
The others explain to me what happened in fractured details.
After Asher went back to the others with Yaselle’s deal on his tongue, he had a feelin that the Garnets would either take too long to come up with a suitable agreement regardin it or that Yaselle would get antsy and sends Bugs to ensure they made it to Punnet Street and agreed to it. So, before even comin to get me, he arranged a plan with Vernon. When he came back, he would go to Michie’s on Punnet Street and throw the Bugs off our location in an old apartment that ain’t bein used right now. There, a group of lickers were waitin thanks to a call from Isaela and Sans—who were contacted by Vernon—and the Bugs had to deal with em, effectively wastin time they could have used to find the Garnets. Even though they have a deal with the lickers, the Bugs are responsible for the huge amount of damage done to the docks and, because of whatever drama is about to be caused with the Damaskragan merchant, the lickers ain’t feelin as sympathetic towards them as usual. It eventually led to an actual brawl, since the Bugs send to collect the Garnets were all young, hot-headed, low-ranked sorts, much to the dismay of Michie and the other residents of Punnet.
But Asher and Vernon knew that Yaselle would know about the cop-out and eventually find the real warehouse. So, while this was happenin, the other Garnets were movin out to back-up location where, apparently durin his first Moons in Mecraentos, Asher hid out. They gave the real warehouse to the kids from Carnum and Catum, where the second wave of Bugs went. Then those Bugs had to explain why they came in guns blazin, teeth barred at the kids they were supposed to have under their sworn protection, and explain that to an extremely pissed off Mistress. She wanted extra compensation and safety regulations be enforced for The Shaver in exchange for such a scare, considerin she thought they were finally gettin these kids the better home they were promised when recruited under Yaselle.
While that was happenin, Ana and Vernon planned to get me out.
“You all did all that?”
Got the lickers and the Bugs off our backs while helpin out the kids at the brothel? In one sweep?
Ana nods. “Asher helped a lot. If it were just up to Vernon, he would have just broken in and hoped there were no consequences.”
“The plan was much better than that,” Vernon snaps.
“I like Asher,” Seht says. “But why help us after knowing us for just a few Moons?”
“I—” I try.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Ana says. She nods at me. “It’s because he’s… Enlightened.”
The word don’t feel real spoken on Ana’s tongue.
“He called me Illuminated,” I say.
“We’ve had suspicions,” Ana says softly. “But the prophecies, I mean I figured—”
“We can’t talk bout this now,” Seht says. “Come on. Let’s go back to the others, okay? We’re too exposed here.”
They all agree, but the way Ana said that scares me.
I ain’t no different than I was a Moon ago. Another wave of nausea hits me.
The idea that Asher may be helpin us because of me don’t feel right.
I believe in good people. Some part of me, I know, really likes Asher, and some part of me fixates on the idea that he may have only wanted to be my friend because of my alleged Enlightenment—I don’t want to be seen as just some phenomenon. Like the boy in the Fortress Seran spoke of.
It’s one thing to know you’re different from other people. It’s a whole other whirlwind for the public to know it too.
***
We arrived too late. The second warehouse location ain’t a warehouse but a cave surrounded by a thick onslaught of trees and brush, tucked into the corner of Mecraentos, closer to the Fortress than anythin. Where a bunch of tourists would come from if they didn’t take the legal transportation routes and decided to ride the slave-carts instead. The red sky seems to bleed more than it usually does. The Suns burn hot.
The entire place is swarmed by Lime Men.
Dozens of em, poolin into the mouth of the cave. I can see some of the younger Garnets escapin into the nearby trees, climbin like feral creatures. Lahla has a gun in her hand, shootin from atop the trees that she climbed with the ease of a squirrel. Mustletop and Genaieve also got guns, shootin wildly and inexperiencedly at the Lime Men. One grabs Mustletop by the leg and drags him to the ground. It’s absolute chaos.
Lime Men are distinguished by their black nails and tattoos. Some tattoo their eyes to be dark as the night. It alienates their features from the rest of us. So, when those pearly blacks land on us, they seem to be the eyes of Soulless monsters.
“Shit!” Vernon says.
“They’re after me,” I whisper. Seht slaps the back of my head runs towards Ellie-Darlin, who is rapidly leapin from tree to tree.
“Fire!” she screams. “They have arson-flower! Fire! Fire! Fire!”
Just as she yells that, a tree erupts into flames. But not cause of any arson-flower.
Sittin up from one of the trees is Asher, with his bow and arrow. The arrowheads are flamin. He’s settin Lime Men on fire. Screams come from all around me.
Adrenaline courses through me and my heart sets to stone. This place is surrounded by an insane amount of branches and leaves whose whispers are so loud they almost drown out the sounds of battle. They yearn to fight. They hate the fire just as much as us.
It’s like somethin has been unlocked within me. I don’t got to stay hidden anymore.
I step out of the light and let the trees bend to my will.
***
It’s all hazy after that. I know I didn’t do much damage, but I held off enough Lime Men for my friends to escape. Eventually, I blacked out.
Conversation came in blurs. Someone was carryin me bridal-style. I think it was Vip.
“Go, go, go!” I heard Vernon yell. “Split up! Before they bring reinforcements! You all know the Spider-Route! Asaio? Asaio, someone grab him!”
I vaguely remember one of the trees whisperin to me, locotatuira are poisonous when consumed.
They leaves ain’t ever spoken to me before, not like that.
One of the Lime Men. I’d caught him by the waist with a branch, forced his mouth open, and forced him to swallow the deadly flower after I’d had another branch pick it from the ground; an extension of my own body.
Asher nearly missed the guy behind me and flames erupted against my back. Someone tried to cut out Kim’s tongue.
“Where are we going?” Shimmy said at some point.
“Back to Yaselle,” Asher responded. “It’s your best chance.”
“I thought you said—I thought you promised we wouldn’t have to be with her, Vernon! We can run somewhere else, we can—”
“Where’s Ellie? Is she okay? Oh, Suns, Ellie!” someone said.
“I can’t breathe-I can’t breathe—”
“Someone catch her!”
“Go that way! Go that way! Now, now, now!”
“Where’s Crass? I don’t see Crass, or Malloo!”
“I’m so dizzy… my shirt is covered in blood.”
“How did they find us so fast?”
“Cause they’re better than us, that’s why!” Vernon yelled. “Damn it!”
“Shut up and move!” Crimson snapped. “Where’s Uyala and Kim? Who has Kim?”
“Hey, where are you going? Asher?”
“For Heish!”
The Spider Routes. Different emergency escape routes we’ve had in case we all get caught as a collective, to minimize bein caught as one. Save as many as we can.
We ran. Or, really, I didn’t run. Someone had to carry me.