The Treemakers (A YA Dystopian Scifi Romance Adventure) Read online

  “Anyone know how to operate a boat?” I ask.

  “I’m sure it’s not that difficult,” Jax says. “We need to get the children on safely, and make sure they stay inside. No telling what could be lurking in that water, or in those trees. Giant jumpers, at the very least.”

  “Oh, that’s comforting. How are there trees and stuff so deep underground? Don’t they need sunlight to grow?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine. I’m sure we’ll figure that out, though. Probably related to how there’s fresh air way down here, you know?”

  “Yeah”—I nod—“maybe.”

  On the wall is a rotating lever attached to a chain pulley, which I suspect raises the grate when turned. If it actually works, I’ll be amazed.

  Chloe’s hand trembles in mine. “I’m cold,” she says.

  “Yeah,” I say, “it’s much cooler down here than what we’re used to. Come on, I’ll give you a ride.” I crouch, and her clammy arms slide into place around my neck as she climbs on. I wrap my hands under her knees. “Let’s go—” I start, but Chloe suddenly shrieks and thrashes around on my back.

  “Get it off, get it off!” she screams.

  Jax swings, and something thumps against the wall. I’m horrified by a huge, wriggling creature lying on its back, feet dancing in the air. Chloe wails, strangling me with a panicked grip.

  Jax aims, and plants a crossbow bolt in the creature’s middle, which releases a thick ooze, silencing its dance. “That’s one big-ass cockroach,” he says.

  “I wanna go home!” Chloe cries. “I wanna go home, and I want my mommy!”

  I slide her down to cradle her. “Shh, honey, it’s okay—”

  “No!” she sobs.

  Jax removes the bolt from the bug’s midsection with a crunch, returning it to its holder. Then, he takes my arm and guides us back up the tunnel, excitement replaced with fear. Both his and Aby’s thoughts, plain on their faces, match mine: Sure, it’s a way out . . . but what’s out there?

  §

  When the other two groups make it down, and we have Johnny with the second crossbow and Miguel with the spear, I feel better, but not much. I hadn’t really planned on a dark, underground forest with a black river and roaches the size of my hand. I had my heart set on a lovely, bright, blue-and-green paradise . . . not a ghost ship waiting to take us straight into the slimy, rotted mouth of Hell. Why Smudge would lead us down here, and not to the portal, is a thorn in my side. I wish she’d just show herself already and explain everything. This mystery’s getting old—fast.

  Jax, Johnny, and Miguel, along with a couple of older boys, discuss security measures, while I keep an eye on the tunnel and reassure the terrified youngers, rocking Chloe in my arms. Thirty minutes, and she still hasn’t let go of me. My neck and back ache from her weight.

  “Chloe, I need to set you down, honey—”

  “No,” she whines.

  “Yes, just stay here by me.” And I set her on the ground. My muscles thank me. I’m at least thirty pounds lighter now. Still, she grips my leg and sniffles.

  “All right,” Jax says. “Let’s move out.”

  “Olders,” I say, “stay with your buddies, and hold their hands if they’re seven or under.” Younger hands dart up into olders’, to the great reluctance of the older boys. But I give them a stern look. “We don’t know what to expect once we get that grate open, so we need to be safe.”

  Stay on guard. Be aware of your surroundings.

  Together, we travel down the arched tunnel in silence, Jax and Johnny sweeping their crossbows back and forth in front of us. When we reach the end, Miguel gives the pulley’s handle a crank, producing a screeching echo from dry metal, followed by the grate rising a few inches. Miguel waits as Jax checks the area then gives him a signal, before turning the lever again. It rotates easily, though the squeal is enough to pierce through your bones, not to mention alert everything within a mile radius that naïve newcomers, who probably taste pretty good, are down here in time for dinner.

  Once the grate’s raised halfway, Miguel snaps the chain into a latch that holds it in place. Jax and Johnny cautiously duck under to examine the area, before waving us out behind them. We follow onto a platform a few feet wide with a railing, thankfully, to keep people from falling into the river. Who knows how deep it goes, or what lies beneath the surface? Behind and above us, slanting upward, mirroring its opposite side, the dark forest rustles with life and disappears into the black background. No way of telling how far back it goes, or how high.

  “Stay away from the railing,” I say. “To be safe.”

  We walk the downward-sloping platform toward the boat, and when we get to it, I’m surprised by its size. From the tunnel, it was hard to tell, but close up, it’s at least fifty feet long. Plenty of room for all of us, with some to spare.

  “Let’s hope something doesn’t already live here,” Jax says under his breath.

  I want to kick him. He has a bad habit of bringing up the worst possibilities. Instead, I glare at him, finger to my lips.

  Holding the brown-and-white boat up out of the water, a platform disconnects from where we’re standing, attached to a cable stretching to another pulley lever tied to a steel guardrail. On top of the boat is another platform surrounded by a railing, a square groove sunken into the floor, complete with a silver latch.

  “Everyone gets on, except for one person,” I say. “That last person has to release the pulley to drop the boat into the water, then hop on the deck.”

  Jax examines it, nodding. “Smart girl.” He carefully pulls the worn black handle, and the door clicks open. I shine my light stick inside, and we both lean in.

  “What do you see?” Aby asks.

  “Hey,” Johnny calls from the end of the line, “can we hurry it up already? Something just moved over here. Sounded big.”

  A circle of benches line the wall inside the boat, and toward the front, a doorway to a smaller room, where a chair sits behind a giant wheel with handles poking out all around it.

  “Hey!” Johnny yells.

  “Everyone on, now!” I say. “Carefully! No pushing—”

  But pairs of olders and youngers near-trample each other to get onto the rickety boat. The wood floor moans at the sudden weight.

  “I’ll let the lever down,” says Jax.

  “No,” Miguel says. “I’ll do it. You can stand up top and cover me with your crossbow.”

  Jax nods and disappears inside, heading to the front room with the wheel. Seconds later, footsteps echo overhead, and Jax leans over the rail above me. “Nice view up here,” he says, clicking a bolt into ready position.

  I help the last few children on, and Aby pushes Baby Lou into my arms, shoving past me in the doorway. “Aby, what—?”

  She begins ranting at Miguel for “endangering” himself again.

  “Get on the boat,” he yells at her. “Now!” I’ve never seen his face so serious and scolding.

  Aby stops dead in her tracks, stunned, then backs through the doorway. Miguel cranks the lever and the boat shifts down a few inches. I close the door to find Aby crying in the far corner. We lower a few more inches, and Baby Lou whimpers in my arms. A few more, and the sensation of floating, the resistance of water pushing against the boat, parting to go around it.

  “Come on!” Jax yells from above us.

  Through the door’s window, I watch Miguel fumble with the chain in its latch. Sweat trickles down his face, and his hands shake. Finally, he gets it to lock into place. He wipes the sweat from his eyes, gives Jax a thumbs-up, and steps toward the edge to jump down. Then, he disappears. But his feet don’t hit the ceiling above me. Instead, I hear Jax’s frantic yelling. I thrust Baby Lou into Serna’s arms and race to the front, up the stairs to the roof.

  What I see cannot possibly be real. Something enormous and as black as night has pinned Miguel to the ground, slashing at him with claws the length of my arm. Five crossbow bolts already stick out from its giant body. Jax
takes aim and fires again—his last bolt. The monster yowls as the bolt grazes him, and the crunch of bone fills the air as it bites into Miguel’s shoulder. Miguel screams—a bloodcurdling, soul-piercing sound—as the monster picks him up, shakes him like a tiny, fragile, bleeding doll in his massive jaw.

  “We need more firepower—now!” Jax cries. “Johnny!”

  But Miguel grows still, and the monster drops his limp body onto the ground in a bloody lump. Johnny races up the stairs, shooting before he’s even cleared the top step. The monster howls as Johnny’s bolt embeds into its enormous jaw. It stops the mauling long enough to see its attackers, then sinks its teeth into Miguel’s chest.

  Then, its body flies into the air.

  A dark figure throws Miguel over one shoulder and races to the edge, leaping and landing almost on top of me.

  “Go!” The black hood’s pulled down to reveal Smudge’s face. “Downstairs, now!” she yells.

  We charge down the stairs, and Smudge lays Miguel gently onto the floor, then hurries to close the hatch and push the heavy deadbolt into place. She yanks a lever next to the wheel, and the boat’s released, moving forward in the water.

  Aby bursts in. “Oh my God!” She falls to her knees beside Miguel, hysterical.

  I kneel down on his other side. His eyes are closed, body ripped to shreds, covered in blood. I place two fingers on his neck, praying for a pulse . . . but knowing the truth. Even if he’s alive, his wounds are too great to heal with our meager first-aid kit. Feeling nothing at his neck, I try his wrist, while Aby’s eyes beg me to find life.

  None.

  I shake my head and cry.

  Our brother, Miguel, is dead.

  SEVENTEEN

  My head flushes with heat, sweeping black spots through my vision. I brace myself against the wall, trying to steady my breathing so I don’t faint. It’d be easy for me to give up here, to give in to the weakness. My heart’s been broken too many times. Everyone I’ve loved has died horribly, far too soon.

  Then, I remember what my daddy told me as my mother was dying, moments before the Superiors came and took her away: “No one is ever . . . really dead.” He put a finger to his lips and touched it to her heart.

  After they took her, he held me tight in his arms and said with quivering strength, “You must be strong, my daughter. No matter what happens, don’t just survive . . . live.”

  I love my brother, but now he’s dead. And life must go on. There are people who need me.

  Aby takes Miguel’s hand and pets it. “He can’t be dead. Miguel!” She collapses to the floor, while Johnny punches the wall and Jax erupts from the room.

  “Aby—”

  “You let him go! I tried to stop him, but . . . but . . . Why did you let him go!” She wails hysterically, banging her head against the wall.

  I stand, whip round to face Smudge, who steers the boat solemnly. “You have a lot of explaining to do.”

  Still, she focuses straight ahead. Does she not hear me?

  I go back to Aby and try to lift her from the floor. But she shrieks and jerks her arm away. I don’t know what else to do, so I follow Jax out. The rest of the children stare, terrified, but I can’t form words to tell them anything. I keep walking, barely feeling my feet on the floor.

  Jax stands at the back window, hands stuffed into his pockets, empty crossbow discarded to the floor. I stumble to his side, and he drops his gaze, shakes his head. “It should’ve been me—”

  “Well, I’m glad it wasn’t.” I squeeze his hand. “Don’t do this, it’s not your fault.”

  “It is my fault.” He takes his hand from mine.

  “No, it isn’t. Did you see the size of that thing? You shot five bolts into it, and it wasn’t even fazed. You did everything you could do.”

  Again, he shakes his head.

  “Oh my God. . . .”

  He looks up at me.

  “Jax, the monster. . . .”

  “I know.”

  “The rumors were true. . . .”

  He exhales a disgusted, desperate laugh. “What I want to know is”—he faces me squarely—“how come your friend in there brought us down here, when there are flesh-eating monsters the size of ten men who aren’t even scathed by the weapons she gave us?” His face flushes red. “Now she’s taking us where, exactly? You’re really going to trust her?” He starts toward the front, but I grab his arm.

  “Wait,” I say, “let me talk to her. Please.”

  He yanks his arm away. “Talk to her? Miguel’s dead because of her, and you want to talk?” He snatches up the spear leaning against the wall and pushes past me.

  I chase him to the front, watch in horror as he cocks the spear back, and aims it at Smudge.

  “Jax, no!”

  “Tell us what’s going on!” His knuckles whiten from his death grip on the spear. Veins bulge in his neck and forehead, as if he’s about to explode. But Smudge acts as if he’s not there. She adjusts her hat, pulling her hood up over it.

  I take the spear from Jax, and he storms back through the cabin, screaming obscenities. Aby’s still curled up by Miguel, sobbing, and on the other side of the doorway, Johnny stares blankly at the black water before us. I stand quietly next to Smudge.

  “Sunrise,” she says.

  “What?”

  “The sun will be up soon. It’s safer then.”

  “The sun? But aren’t we deep underground?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then how is there sunlight?”

  “The aboveground tunnels filter sunlight through millions of mirrored, oxygen-filtering pipes installed seventy-five years ago when the river was discovered. That was when the aboveground tunnels were built.”

  “How do you know all of this?”

  “I just . . . know.”

  “Where are you from? And where are you taking us? Is it the same place? Was it you who left all of those supplies for us?”

  “It would not be possible for me to answer all of those questions at once.”

  “Fine. Where are you from?”

  “Alzanei, originally.”

  “Never heard of it. Is it on the Other Side of The Wall?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, you have to take us there, then!”

  “I am taking you . . . to someone who will offer you safety.”

  Aby erupts in shrieks and begins throwing herself against the wall.

  “Johnny,” I yell over her screaming, “help me get her out of here!”

  He snaps to, and we attempt to secure her floundering body. She claws at me, scraping my cheek with her fingernails, and I swing back, planting my fist into her temple. I see Samurai, and guilt floods me as her eyes close, body going limp. Panic-stricken, I feel for a pulse while Johnny holds her steady. Her heart pumps wildly, but slows down as I’m holding my finger there.

  “Nice shot,” says Johnny.

  “Let’s take her out of here.”

  We carry her to the back, set her down in the corner by Jax.

  “Momma Joy, what happened to Aby?” Chloe asks, thumb in mouth, knees pulled to her chest.

  “What happened to her?” Jax asks.

  “Joy knocked her out,” Johnny says.

  “She was hysterical, I had to.” I show him the scratches on my face. “Now I need to finish my conversation with Smudge, and figure out what to do . . . with Miguel.” I head back toward the front, Johnny following, still gripping his crossbow, which holds three remaining bolts. We were never a match for that monster.

  “Why’d you bring us here?” I ask Smudge once I’m back through the doorway. I avert my eyes from Miguel’s lifeless body. “Why? When you knew there was no way we could fight that thing?”

  “Things—there are more than one. I tried to guide them away from you, but—”

  “Guide them away?”

  She glances at me, then back to the water before us, which has become a lighter gray color. The surrounding black forests are turning a dark green, mottled w
ith shadowy pink and yellow flowers, and hanging vines. Bright twinkling light dots the area far above our heads, making it impossible to see a ceiling.

  “There are a lot of things you don’t know,” Smudge says, “and there’s no way I can tell you all of them now. You’ll find out everything when it’s time.”

  We share a moment of silence while a thousand different questions fight their way to my mouth. I pick one. “You said it’s safer during the day?”

  “Yes. The . . . monsters, as you call them, are . . . nocturnal. They . . . hibernate during the day. We must watch out for other creatures, though. Most things here have become either poisonous or carnivorous. But the . . . largest threat we only need to worry about after sunset.”

  She has a strange way of speaking, hesitant and pausing, like she decides against using a certain word at the last minute, for whatever reason.

  “Is that room—the one you took us to—was it a portal to the Other Side?” I ask.

  “It would be too . . . difficult for me to explain that to you now. But I will . . . soon. I . . . promise.”

  “I sure could go for a nice swim in the ocean,” says Johnny. “Please say it’s real, and not just something these people dreamed up.”

  “It is real,” she says. “To an extent.”

  “What does that mean, exactly?” he says.

  “I’m not sure how to explain it . . . in a way you would understand.”

  “Is that an insult to my intelligence? Wow, we haven’t even been formally introduced, and already you’re insulting me.”

  “I’m sorry. It wasn’t meant as an insult.”

  He steps forward, holds out his hand. “I’m Johnny.”

  Smudge glances at it, and I read fear in her face. You’d think she never shook anyone’s hand before. She dips a small hand into his and, giving it a quick shake, retracts it just as swiftly to its position on the wheel. “Smudge,” she says.

  “We need to find a place to bury Miguel,” I say, “and we need to make it fast. I can’t keep looking at him, and Aby sure doesn’t need to again.”

  “The water is the safest place,” Smudge says. “You should not spend any more time on land than you have to.”