D. MacHale - The Pilgrims of Rayne

“They’ve committed the worst crime of all,” Siry said through gritted teeth. “They’ve stolen our souls.” Tweeeeee!

A harsh whistle pierced the jungle. Everyone looked up in surprise. Suddenly two more boys blasted into the clearing from the jungle. One was blowing the whistle. They were out of breath and sweating. They looked scared.

“They’re coming,” one gasped.

“Here?” Siry shot back.

“No,” the other boy said. “Rayne. They’re moving toward the village. We saw them in the jungle. It’s hard to tell how many. More than ever.”

The others grumbled nervously. Siry stared into space, calculating. The blond thief ran up to him.

“What do we do?” he asked.

Siry looked around, making quick eye contact with each and every kid. They all looked squarely back at him. I’d seen that look before. Whatever he was going to ask them to do, they were ready.

Siry shot me a look and said, “You think we’re criminals, and maybe we are. But it doesn’t mean we’re wrong.”

He grabbed the blond kid by the shirt and commanded, “Let’s go.”

An excited buzz went through the crowd. That’s what they wanted to hear. The blond kid smiled and ran across the clearing with two others. They went right to the wooden chests, threw them open, and pulled out armloads of the same short, wooden weapons I’d seen on the hips of the security force. I heard a steady buzzing sound and looked up to see several kids sliding down zip lines from the higher platforms. They hit the ground running and joined the others. Their excitement was growing. They were getting ready for a fight.

The blond kid and the others returned to the group and handed out weapons.

Siry stood over me. “I want you to see this.” He reached behind the chair and untied me. “That is, if you can handle it.”

“Depends on what I’m supposed to do,” I said, rubbing my wrists.

“Follow and watch. I want you to see what the Jakills are about.”

“I’m there,” I said, trying to sound stronger than I felt.

Truth be told, I was feeling better. The excitement of the group was getting to me. My heart started racing. So long as I only had to watch, I’d be okay. More than that and I’d probably crash.

The others began disappearing into the jungle. “What happens now?” I asked Siry.

He grabbed a wooden baton from the blond guy and shoved it in his belt. “We hunt.” “For what?”

“Flighters” was Siry’s response as he took off to join his friends.

Before I knew it, I was alone in the bizarre campsite. I was about to become involved in something that sounded dangerous. I wondered if the tribunal would consider this the kind of trouble I wasn’t supposed to get into. Before I had a chance to talk myself out of it I ran into the jungle after Siry and the Jakills, ready for… I didn’t know what.

(CONTINUED)

I followed the Jakills through the dense jungle, running to keep up. It wasn’t easy. They knew every root and rock. I had to stay focused and drive myself forward without driving my head into the ground. They ran like jungle cats, leaping over fallen trees and ducking under branches without breaking stride. I ran more like a confused turtle, getting slashed by branches and trying not to break my neck. Making it worse, I had to keep looking up to see where they were going. It took all of two minutes before I totally lost them. I was alone in the jungle. Lost. I looked around, ready to run, but to where? I was tired and frantic and felt a little more than helpless.

I gulped air, turned, and came face-to-face with the blond thief. I jumped in surprise. Where had he come from?

“This way,” he commanded, and took off again.

I didn’t hesitate and ran after him. Soon we were climbing up a vine-tangled rocky ridge. I kept scraping my arms on the sharp walls and getting my ankles caught by vines that seemed to be reaching out to grab me. The blond guy didn’t have trouble at all. If anything, he kept slowing down to let me catch up.

Finally we broke out of the jungle cover, onto a rocky ledge on the side of the mountain. Several of the Jakills were already there, including Siry. They were all looking intently below. Nobody acknowledged my arrival.

It was an incredible view. The village was spread out beneath us. Beyond that was the vast green bay and then the ocean. It made me feel as if we were on an island. I sat down to catch my breath and watch Siry. He crouched low, scanning the village like a cat searching for prey. His eyes were narrow and focused. Nobody spoke until…

“There,” he said, pointing.

We looked to see movement in the jungle far below. There seemed to be a group of people making their way through the dense brush toward the edge of the village. We were too high up and the jungle was too thick to see what they looked like, but by the movement of trees and the brief flashes of bodies I could tell they were spread out and moving cautiously.

“There’s more than just them,” one of the guys warned who had first run into the clearing to sound the alarm. “Lots more.”

“What are they doing?” Twig whispered.

While everyone kept their eyes on the movement below, Siry looked elsewhere. Up until then, Siry’s attitude was one of defiance and anger. At that moment I saw he had more going on than that. He was focused. His mind was working. There was definitely more to Siry than I first had thought.

“Look,” Twig exclaimed. “Smoke. They’re going to burn something.”

I saw a thin wisp of black smoke rise above the trees where the group of Flighters were moving. Who were those guys? I figured I’d find out soon enough.

“Let’s go,” the little guy with the ratty eyes exclaimed. He made a move to climb down, but Siry quickly put an arm out to stop him.

“No.” Siry ordered with authority.

“Why not?” the ratty guy whined. “We can stop them.”

“Wait,” Siry insisted.

A few moments later I saw smoke rising up near the edge of the village. Twig was right. The Flighters had set fire to something.

“They’re torching huts!” Twig exclaimed.

Siry didn’t react. He kept his eyes on the jungle below. Focused. Scanning. “An alarm will sound,” he said as if thinking out loud. “The security force will come running.”

Sure enough, a loud horn began to wail. The sharp, droning sound grew loud enough so that every person in the village could hear it.

Siry nodded knowingly. “The entire force will rush to put out the fire and meet the enemy like the heroes they think they are. Idiots.”

The ratty guy laughed and said, “Yeah! Idiots!” He quickly frowned and asked, “Why are they idiots?”

Siry kept his eyes on the village. I kept my eyes on Siry. He pointed down to the other side of the village from where the fire was being set.

“The fire is a decoy,” he announced. “There are the others.”

We all looked to see more movement in the jungle below. A group of Flighters, or whatever they were, was moving in the opposite direction from the fire.

The blond guy declared, “They’re headed for the mountain. The tribunal. If the entire security force is on the other side of the village-“

“The tribunal isn’t protected,” Siry said. He stood up and looked at the others. “That’s where we need to be,” he said, and scrambled down the side of the mountain.

The Jakills were right after him. I was right after them. None of this made sense.

I thought the Jakills were a bunch of outlaws. There was no question that the tribunal thought Siry was a criminal. They had just sentenced him to a year of hard labor! Yet he was willing to take on invaders to protect the very people he called “evil.” There was nothing about Ibara that made sense. All I could do was keep up and hope to find some answers.