Phoebe North - Starbreak

“Morning,” I grunted back. Who knows how long they’d all been up, milling around me, conversing, listening to me whimper in my sleep? I’d always done it. My brother, Ronen, used to tease me for the things I said. But if I’d said anything embarrassing, none of them gave any sign. They continued to drink their coffee substitute out of enamel cups as they broke down our camp.

“You’re finally awake, then?” Aleksandra called as she came down over a nearby ridge. She was flanked on either side by a guard. The radio on her belt still spluttered static. I wondered who she’d been talking to up there. I wondered how everyone was. I felt a sudden stab in my chest, sweet and cutting. I’d left so many people up there on the Asherah : my best friend, Rachel; Koen; Van; my brother, Ronen; and his newborn daughter. Even Mara Stone.

“Is everyone okay?” I asked, my eyes lingering on the radio. She flashed her hand down over it, gripping it tight.

“ Now you care? They’d be safer if you’d disposed of certain difficulties.”

From beneath her fingers I heard muffled words: “Silvan Rafferty has sent out a message to the Council-born: join him in the captain’s stateroom to be safe from the violence of the dome. What should we tell the people, Giveret Wolff?”

I saw Aleksandra’s thumb bend as she depressed a button. The voice was silenced. But still I’d heard it. Violence in the dome. I thought of Rachel, waifish, gentle, dressed in silk and lace. Concerned with boys and clothes and little else. What defenses would she have against violence?

“We’re heading east,” Aleksandra said. “All of us. Understand?”

I still heard that echo, deep inside me, that animal clatter that had reverberated in my dream. I heard my own voice, too, timid and frantic, promising the boy that I wouldn’t take a single step deeper into these woods.

But then I looked at the others. Ettie was busy plaiting her long, tangled hair against her shoulder. Laurel had leaned her mouth against Deklan’s ear to whisper a secret. Jachin stood at the corner of the camp with Rebbe Davison, talking about the path that lay ahead. The crash had bound us all together. If I led them south, and was wrong about sanctuary waiting for us there? If one of them got hurt, or worse? I could never forgive myself.

“I understand,” I said to Aleksandra, hiking my pack up high onto my shoulders. “I’ll be right behind you.”

She nodded her head crisply, then commanded her guards through the forest.

The trees grew thick all around, towering up meters and meters above. And yet they still shifted their branches curiously, peering down at us. Aleksandra’s guards walked up in front, their steps cautious as they peered into the forest beyond. They’d finally removed their helmets, but only that. The globes of glass clattered at the hips of their flight suits. One was an older man, haggard and gray-faced. The other was hardly any older than I was, a soft gold beard curling out past the neck of his suit. When he spoke, it was timidly. But we all followed him in a scattered line. Even me. Even as every cell in my body objected.

South. South. We need to go south. I swallowed hard, forcing the thought away. Aleksandra was in charge now, whether I liked it or not. She knew how to take care of us—how to lead.

She walked by herself, rifle in one hand, the radio clutched in the other. Every few minutes the radio would let out a gasp of white noise. She’d speak into it, and then the voice on the other end would give its report.

“Rafferty attempting to mobilize forces.”

“Council rations low.”

“Nineteen bodies found in the lower level.”

“Rafferty’s control limited to the bow.”

When I’d last seen my family, they’d been up in the bow with the Council, all gathered there for my wedding. Ronen, dressed in his best drab suit, had looked sweet and dopey—even hopeful. I wondered if he was still up there, or if he’d been pushed out into the dome by the wave of rebellion. Funny, I thought, how little I knew of him. We’d never even discussed politics. I had no idea how he felt about the rebels’ plans.

I’d been so eager to act that I’d never even bothered listening.

But my ears were sharp now. Past the thick trees ahead, buzzing through the tangled undergrowth, I heard a sound, low and steady, familiar. At first I told myself that it was nothing. After all, not even Aleksandra’s guards seemed to hear it. They just stalked on ahead, oblivious to everything but their rifles and the commands that Aleksandra gave them.

But then the sound grew, and grew. It reminded me of bamboo shoots striking one another—or maybe bones. A hollow, empty sound.

“You guys,” I called, softly at first. If they didn’t hear that insectile gnawing, of course they didn’t hear me, either. So I shouted again, louder this time. “Hey, do you hear that?”

Deklan glanced over his shoulder, the corner of his mouth lifted. For the first time I noticed the dimple in his cheek, and the proud, unruly hairs of his dark eyebrows.

“Don’t worry so much,” he said easily, swinging Laurel’s hand in his.

I fumbled for a response. But I never got to answer. Because at that moment a beast came trouncing through the woods, trampling whole trees beneath its feet. It reared back, brandishing its massive horns, and then jabbed one straight through Deklan’s chest.

His scream rose up and died as his body was flung across the forest. The creature was easily four, five times the height of a man, covered in hard yellow skin, as gnarled as old scar tissue. When the guards lifted up their guns, I knew it would do no good. And I was right. The sonic blasts succeeded only at making us shield our ears. Even though the nearby branches shifted, flinching back, the weapon seemed to do nothing to the stampeding creature. Soon the beast ran over the handsome young guard, smashing his lean body to pieces.

Ettie screamed as she knelt down on the forest floor, clenching her fists over her head. I acted on instinct, dashing across the clearing toward her. My fingers flashed out, grabbing hers. We had to duck a fury of thick legs and dash away from the tail that twitched wildly through the air, but we made it. Over the rattles I heard heavy, ragged tears. Laurel stood nearby, blood splattered on her clothing, tears streaming down her face.

“I—was—holding—his—hand!” she sobbed, each word punctuated by a wheeze. Ettie flung her arms at Laurel, hugging hard. But this was no time for comfort. I peered over the rocks. One guard had been crushed by the beast; the other cowered behind Aleksandra as if he expected she would save him. There was blood everywhere, spilled over the gray old snow and the bare trees and especially over Aleksandra Wolff’s white face.

She stood about ten meters back, her posture tense as an alley cat that was ready to strike. At the other end of the clearing, the beast reared and kicked, digging its horn into the remaining guard’s body. I had to look away from the stream of blood, but Aleksandra wasn’t scared. I saw her lift up her rifle. She aimed it carefully and gave the trigger a tight pull.

The sonic boom sounded. But the creature didn’t care. If anything, it only seemed annoyed now, rearing back on four legs as it prepared to strike. I saw Aleksandra hesitate, staring up at the massive beast over her rifle’s sight. She coiled low, preparing to run—but only tripped on a nearby root instead. The beast put thundering feet down against the permafrost and started to charge.

I had a thought: Aleksandra is going to die. And even though that meant that I’d probably die too, I couldn’t help but feel a spark of relief at the idea.