Michael Soll - Scorched

We walked for awhile until we found another crudely formed pathway. Alex didn’t even hesitate. He got down and moved ahead and we followed until we reached an even bigger cavern. Our flashlights cut through the black when we heard a sound in the distance. “Flashlights off!” Alex said in a loud whisper.

We turned the lights off and stood in complete darkness. I felt a hand on my back. “Is that you, Spec?” Cotta whispered.

“Yeah.” I reached forward and grabbed into the darkness for anybody else, trying to form a chain, but I couldn’t feel anything. I couldn’t see anything. I couldn’t hear anything. For all I knew, I no longer existed.

“Okay,” Alex said softly. “Flashlights back on.”

I turned on the light and standing inches in front of me was a large man covered in hair, teeth jagged, metal protruding from his knuckles. He made the loudest sound I had ever heard and the noise echoed through the cavern.

Alex turned and swiped at the beast with the sword but the beast swiftly dodged the attack and knocked the weapon to the ground, metal claws gleaming.

One of the boys in our class lunged with his sword, stabbing the beast in the arm when suddenly, a smaller beast appeared, metal daggers on his knuckles. He swiped at my classmate and connected with his throat. The boy fell to the ground, clutching his wound, trying to keep the blood from flowing out, but it was no use. He stopped struggling and laid there dead.

I turned around and spotted several beasts circled around us, daggers in their mouths and knuckles. The largest raised his fist up high, about to strike Cotta when a shrill voice pierced the cavern.

A girl appeared. No older than Kaolin with a prominent scar on her cheek. “We nelfurvlo alive.”

The female NaNa walked up to Cotta and came face to face with him. She stared straight into his eyes, raised her claw and then, slowly slid the daggers down the side of his face. She smiled and simply said—

“I’m Valasca — and you’re mine.”

The five of us were escorted through cavern after cavern by the NaNas. Cotta was taken to the front of the pack next to the girl who called herself Valasca. She kept eying him and glaring her teeth. I could tell he was frightened. His fear prompted her to move closer and glare them even more.

Kaolin and I walked behind Cotta and behind us were Alex and Jennifer, one of the teachers at school. In the back, one of the NaNas carried our fallen classmate.

The beasts were wearing some sort of decorative cloth around their genitals. They were painted red, either constructed that way or stained by the blood of their victims.

Valasca grabbed Cotta’s hand and examined it. “You’re not from Newbury, are you?”

Cotta looked back, asking me with his eyes if he should answer honestly. I gave a little nod and he replied, “No, not originally.”

“I can tell. You’re much too beautiful to come from there. Your hands are rough and worn in. Theirs are soft and fragile. What about the others?”

Cotta glanced back at me, but Valasca quickly stepped in between us. “Don’t lie to me.”

He looked back at the others, unsure of how to respond, then retreated to the truth. “Kaolin and Spec and me aren’t from Newbury.”

She ran her claw through his hair. “And what’s your name?”

“Cotta.”

“Caught-tuh. Say my name.”

“Vuh-lask-uh.”

“Good.” She glared her teeth again.

“You speak English,” I interjected.

She and the other NaNas laughed. “I do speak English, but this isn’t English. This is Newburyian. This is harlech you sprulch English.”

“I don’t understand,” I said.

She smiled. “Don’t worry. You will.”

We walked for what felt like hours until we came across a much larger path. Valasca moved her hand to Cotta’s and interlocked their fingers. “This is Nanash.”

Before us was a large, circular village. It was about the size of the Old Hive, but much smaller than Newbury. There were houses spread across the village comprised of dirt and clay, ovular and lying low to the ground. In the middle of the city was a small stream. We walked over a tiny path constructed above the stream and continued through the village. Lining the village walls were large, round life forms that brightly glowed green, causing a greenish hue to cascade across the village. They looked like some sort of large fungus, but I had never seen them before.

We reached the back of the town and lined up against the wall were dozens of cages, like the pens in Newbury, except instead of chickens, people sat hopelessly inside.

Valasca turned to the others. “Onelech those two. The othleals will be incheclicon.”

Alex and Jennifer were pushed toward two empty cages and locked inside. Valasca turned to the three of us. “Come with me.”

She escorted us through the town, accompanied by several male NaNas. She clenched her hands, then undid a strap around her wrist, taking off her claw. She rubbed her bruised hand and gave her claw contraptions to another NaNa who quickly walked off toward a nearby building.

“So how long have you been with the Bungs?” We looked at each other, but none of us knew what she was talking about. “How long have you been in Newbury?”

“About 8 months.”

Valasca pinched Cotta’s shirt, caressed the material. “You like it there?”

I watched Cotta as he watched Valasca’s hand rub his shirt. He seemed to be intrigued by her.

None of my friends were speaking up, so I took the lead — “We were just passing through.”

“And are you just passing through here?” I didn’t know how to respond, so I didn’t. “I guess we’re all just passing through until we stop moving,” she said with a smirk.

“How do you know Newburyian?” Cotta asked, finally out of his daze.

“A long time ago, before I existed, the Bungs invaded our village and set it ablaze. They collapsed our exit and most of our people died. My father was captured along with a couple other children. He was just a boy at the time so they thought they could ‘save’ him along with the others. They taught him their language and customs and then one day, they decided to stop their little experiment. They executed the children, but my father got away. He found the rest of our tribe at one of our outposts and taught us all what he was taught, including the language and culture. To know your enemy, you must become your enemy.”

Valasca walked us back to another set of houses. Whenever we passed a NaNa, they looked over at her like people would look at the Mayor in Newbury. The giant beast from the cavern appeared. Valasca placed her hand on his arm. “I’m making these three provisional Nanashi. Cotta will sleep with me in my hut. Kaolin and Spec will take Melanippe’s old hut.” She turned to me. “Gunnar will show you where to go. Come with me, Cotta.”

Cotta followed Valasca while we were escorted by Gunnar to an empty mud hut. “You shetcha herelo and grundalo by grunds.”

Kaolin and I stared at him blankly.

Gunnar grimaced and looked up toward the ceiling. After several seconds, he looked back down. “My Newburyian is not so good. Understand but can’t speak good.” He glared his razor sharp teeth. “This your hut. Guards watching.”

We examined the hut. Several NaNas stood by the entrance. I looked over at Kaolin who gave me the same look she gave me on the dance floor in Newbury. I went in and she reluctantly followed.

The hut reminded me of my cubby back in the hive. It was sparse and empty without any paintings on the walls, but who needs an image still and beautiful frozen on dirt when something more beautiful is breathing in front of you?