The Treemakers by Christina L. Rozelle

Author:Christina L. Rozelle [Rozelle, Christina L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: BluA
Publisher: A Spark in the Dark Press
Published: 2014-12-03T00:00:00+00:00

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.

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