Read Terra Online

Authors: Gretchen Powell

Tags: #ya, #Science Fiction, #young adult, #dystopian

Terra (8 page)

“Door?” I rush over to him and run my fingers over the seams between panels. “Where? How do I get out?”

“It’s just a normal exterior exit,” he says matter-of-factly. He presses in on a camouflaged spot just to the left of the metal wall. Looking closely, I can see that it’s a slightly different color than the rest of the “air” around it. Three of the plates shift to reveal a shallow doorway and my jaw goes slack. I’ve never seen anything like this.

“It’s tiresome to search for the exit panels normally, but since these camo panels are malfunctioning, it’s kind of like a landmark. You’re not going to want to go out that way though,” he adds.

“Why not?”

Adam looks uncomfortable but falls silent.

“Okay, look, I don’t have time for this. I need to—” I attempt to stride past him, but my still-weak legs apparently have a different idea. My right knee quivers as I step forward and I collapse into Adam instead.

“Whoa.” He catches me with one arm, propping me up like a rag doll.

“I’m fine,” I say, pushing myself off of him.

“You’re not, clearly.”

“I’ll
be
fine.” I stumble forward a few steps, but the dehydration and probable concussion make it hard to walk straight. I nearly bite it when my foot catches on something soft, but before I have time to fall, Adam has caught me again.

“Stop helping me,” I hiss through my teeth. I look down to see what I tripped over and my mouth falls open. Mica’s backpack, dirty but completely intact. I pick it up with hasty hands before swiveling around.

“Where did you get this?” I blurt out.

“One of those guys was carrying it,” Adam replies nonchalantly.

“Yes,” I sigh, “I know. But
how
did you get it?”

He shrugs.

“Those raiders, they took it from me. How did you get it from them?”

He fidgets awkwardly. “Look, I really didn’t mean to make them any angrier than you already had. It’s just that when I grabbed you and saw that he—the, uh, big one—wasn’t about to let you go… I had to subdue them. But as you can tell, they’re awake now, and I think I may have just pissed them off even more. They’ve set up a guard right outside. You heard them pound on the wall a minute ago. Don’t worry,” he adds in response to my sudden look of alarm, “this exterior wall is over two feet thick, and I’ve locked the outside controls. There’s no way they’re getting through.”

I ignore, for the moment, the fact that most of what he just said makes no sense. “So, right through that doorway is the underground tunnel?”

“Yep.”

“And you pulled me out. You brought me in here. You… saved me?”

“Yes.” His eyes blaze with a sudden seriousness.

“Um, well, thank you.” I feel a surge of humbled gratitude flare in my cheeks. “Wait, you ‘subdued’ them?” I ask skeptically, eyeing his frame. Adam looks pretty fit, but the thought of him up against Ryk’s massive girth is ludicrous. “How?”

He shrugs again. I stare at him incredulously, but only for a moment as my throat catches, starting an uncontrollable coughing fit. All this talking has leeched the remaining moisture from my mouth. My free hand rushes to my throat, and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth as I attempt to swallow.

With elation, I remember the canteen in my backpack. I tear open the zipper and pull it out, only to find it completely empty. A strangled sob rips up through my throat and I sink to my knees.

“You don’t sound so good,” Adam says, crouching down with me. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m just really thirsty.” I try to say the words casually, but they emerge as a whimper. I sound as pathetic as I feel.

“Hang on.” He snatches the bottle from my hands and returns less than a minute later. “Here,” he says, giving the canteen back to me. Upon hearing the water sloshing inside, I grab it without hesitation and feverishly drink. I feel the cool liquid slide slowly down my throat and hit my stomach.

“Ohhhh,” I exhale, sitting back on my heels once I’ve drained the entire canteen. “I think you just saved my life. For the second time. So… thanks. Again.”

He smiles, a lopsided grin. “Want more?”

“I don’t want to deplete your supply,” I say, trying to mimic his consideration despite how thirsty I still am.

He laughs. “I hardly think you have to worry about that.” He points to the pond.

The pond of unfiltered water.

The realization of what I’ve just poured into my body hits me like a Skyline train.

Chapter 7

“What have you done?” My eyes are wide as I wrap both hands around my throat, grasping wildly as if trying to pull the poisonous water out. “You’ve killed me!”

“What are you talking about?”

“That water isn’t purified,” I gasp. “Why did I even bother running? I really am going to die out here… Mica doesn’t even know where I am…” My thoughts are frantic as I speak them aloud.

“Are you always this dramatic?”

I peer up through my lashes to see Adam staring at me like I am deranged.

He looks at me pointedly. “You really think I’d just give you water from an open source? Of course it’s been filtered, look.” He points to the canteen in my hands, and I notice an unfamiliar metal ring wrapped around the neck.

“I’ve been drinking the same water, using the same portable filter, and I’m still standing,” he finishes.

I lower my hand from my neck and assess myself. Granted, it doesn’t
feel
like I’m dying.

“How is that possible?” I think aloud, staring at the pool. The purification process for drinkable water takes days. There’s no way the toxins could have been filtered out so quickly. My system should already be shutting down.

My cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Well, at any rate, you can understand why I was alarmed,” I say.

“Sure,” he says, though I feel like he’s just placating me.

“So this… thing,” I say, rapping my fingernails against the metal ring, “is some kind of water filter?”

“Uh, yes?” he answers.

“And you just… fill it up? And it purifies the water? Instantly?” My eyes dart back and forth from the bottle in my hands to the pool, my bewilderment leaving a long, awkward silence between Adam and me.

“So, Mica?” he says, finally breaking the silence. “Who’s that?”

His attempts at empathy are grating.

“He’s my younger brother.” I stand up and am pleased to find how much stronger I feel already. I throw the backpack over my shoulder and walk over to the pool. I bend down and rip a few green blades from the ground, then toss them into the water. They fall gently to the surface, and the absence of hissing and steam confirms that the water’s not acidic.

Tentatively, I dip the canteen into the pool and fill it halfway. I shoot Adam a guarded look and, after he nods, I take a small swig. There’s no burning; not even that metallic aftertaste I’ve become so accustomed to from Marketplace canteens. The bottle is empty again before I know it. I dip it into the cool water a final time, filling it to the top before I screw the cap on and put it back in Mica’s bag.

“Well, thanks,” I say awkwardly. Adam nods and I take off in the opposite direction of the wall, toward the tree line. I am moderately annoyed, but thoroughly unsurprised, when I hear him follow me.

“So now that we’ve established that you’ll live to see another day, how about your name?” he calls to my back.

I ignore him. Now that I’m conscious and rehydrated, I have to get home. Mica must be freaking out. All I need to do is reach the other side of this encapsulation dome, or whatever Adam called it. If it is a dome, I have to hit another wall eventually. As soon as I find it, I can look for another door panel and hopefully get back to the surface far away from wherever the raiders have set up camp.

“If I save your life a third time, will you tell me?”

I frown. I can’t deny the fact that he’s already helped me more than anyone who isn’t related to me would ever bother. And how have I shown my gratitude? By giving him a bloody lip, mocking him, and yelling at him.

I slow my stride to let him catch up. “My name is Terra,” I say as he falls into step beside me.

“Terra?” he says, laughing raucously. “What kind of ridiculous name is that?” I whip my head toward him, affronted, and he shrugs. “Old-fashioned, remember?”

“In my defense,” I say, “I was delirious from dehydration when I said that. I can’t really be held responsible for my words.” My eyes flit to his lower lip. “Or actions.”

“Okay, fair. But that means I can hold you responsible for both from now on, right?”

“I really am fine now,” I say. “I don’t need an escort.”

“Precedence begs to differ,” he says lightly, grinning lopsidedly.

I scowl, and we fall into silence, trekking side-by-side through the greenery. As we work our way further into the woods, fallen leaves and twigs crunch beneath our feet. There are no clear paths marked, so I occasionally have to force my way through thick bushes and groups of branches in order to continue forward.

I can’t keep my eyes from wandering as we trudge along. This forest is so vastly different from the Dead Woods. The trees here are not as tall, nor as thick, but they still take up more room, due to the foliage bursting from their branches. The entire scene is so peaceful. The only sounds other than our footsteps come in the form of the wind rustling through the leaves and the distant babble of running water. The sunlight filters in through the canopy above us, making delightful shadowy patterns on my skin. I’m so captivated that I almost walk right into a low-hanging branch.

I look over to find Adam watching me, his eyes crinkled in a smile. With a huff, I return my gaze to the front.

“So where exactly are we going?” he says.


We
aren’t going anywhere.
I’m
going to find another one of those door panel things so
I
can go home.” I push a particularly swishy branch out of my way and it snaps back at me, leaving a harsh red welt on my upper arm.

“Wouldn’t it be easier just to ask someone for help? Maybe someone who already knows of another way out? Someone who—oh, I don’t know—has been living down here for the past week and actually knows where he’s going?” he says, graciously ignoring the tears stinging in my eyes.

I am too shocked by his words to notice his criticism. “You know where to go? You’ve been living down here? Why? How did you get here? Why haven’t you left?” The questions spill off of my tongue in a flurry.

“I’ve got questions too, you know. You’re the first person I’ve had contact with since I’ve been down here, and I don’t know anything about how you got here. Other than the whole cornered-by-a-pack-of-large-men thing. So you’ll forgive me if I don’t feel like spilling my guts,” he says calmly, one eyebrow raised. “I’ve already answered more of your questions than you have of mine, and I’m the one who got hit in the face.”

I purse my lips. “Will you at least tell me if I’m going in the right direction?”

“Yes, you are,” he says.

I wait for him to elaborate, but he is silent. “Fine. How about this: You give me an answer, and I give you one. Fair?”

“I won’t say it’s fair, precisely, but sure. Go ahead,” he says.

My head is swirling with questions, so I decide to start from the beginning. “How long was I unconscious?”

“A little while,” he says vaguely. “How did you get here?”

I raise an eyebrow.
That’s hardly an answer,
I think, but I figure the best way to get him to talk is to humor him. “I was just really in the mood to take a stroll through the contaminated ruins,” I answer sarcastically. “What do you think? I was running from those raiders. How did
you
get here?”

“Same way you did,” he says with a shrug, “just kind of stumbled into it. What did those guys want with you?”

“Same thing they want with any girl. Something tells me they’re not used to running into female scavs.”

Adam absorbs the word, puzzled, but doesn’t ask me to clarify.

“Who are you?” I ask.

“I’m Adam. I thought we’d met.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I.”

I give him the side eye, irritated by his continued evasiveness.

“My turn again,” he says. “I probably should’ve opened with this, but are you all right?”

I feel a crease appear in my forehead as I contemplate the sincerity of his concern. “Um… yeah. I mean, I will be. I feel much better already.” I duck below an overhanging branch. “Thanks,” I add as an afterthought.

“You’re welcome,” he replies.

“So what are you doing down here?” I ask.

“I got… lost.” He tries to keep the word light, but something else lurks behind it. “What did you do to make those guys so mad?”

I pause for a second. “I may or may not have kneed their leader in the balls.”

Adam laughs. “That explains a lot.”

“What were you doing in the ruins in the first place?” I ask.

“Exploring,” he says casually, plucking a large leaf from above his head. He holds it by the stem and twirls it between his fingers. “I’m on assignment, for my job. I’m trying to get more familiar with things down here.” He lets the leaf fall from his fingers; it floats gently as it joins the rest of the foliage decorating the forest floor. “How old are you? Your brother? Your parents?”

I scrutinize his face. Why is he so interested in our ages? “People
down here
are usually just about the age they look. I’m eighteen. Mica is thirteen, which, as you probably remember, is a really lovely time in male adolescence. Our parents are… gone.”

Adam slows his step. I look back at him over my shoulder, and see an unfamiliar expression on his face.

“What happened?” he says tentatively, after a pause.

I shrug and slow down with him. “It’s not like it’s a secret. Our mom died shortly after Mica was born and our
father
,” I can’t quite contain my bitterness as I spit the word out, “took off a few years later. Chances are he’s dead by now too. Our grandmother was taking care of Mica and me until… well, she’s gone too.” I try to keep my voice indifferent, but it hitches over the last few words. “I don’t really like talking about them.”

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