Sigler, Scott - The Generations 02 - Alight by Sigler Scott

Author:Sigler, Scott [Sigler, Scott]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780553393156
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2016-04-04T23:00:00+00:00

Smith said I had a “flesh wound.” Nothing serious, at least according to her. I was in her coffin only long enough to make sure the bleeding had stopped, long enough for Spingate and Gaston to take a quick look at what we brought back. There isn’t time for anything more right now—decisions have to be made.

My people are once again packed in the coffin room on Deck One. I stand on the makeshift stage with Gaston and Spingate, who each have something important to say when I am finished. So many emotions on the faces that look back at me, a mixture of pride, disgust, respect and doubt, of love, fear and anguish. We are too many to all think the same way.

I tell my people what happened. The snake-wolf, the Springers, our run through the jungle, the spiders, the “nest” that must have come from the Xolotl, and—of course—Visca.

Many of the younger kids are crying. This is their first experience with death. Even if they weren’t close to Visca, they knew who he was, and they know he is never coming back.

The young circle-stars don’t cry, though. They now wear black coveralls and hold weapons of their own: axes, machetes, shovels, hammers…one girl even holds a pitchfork. While Bishop and I were gone, Farrar was getting them ready.

Good: when we fight the Springers again, we will need everyone.

After I finish, Gaston explains how the Springer guns work. He says they are muskets, primitive versions of the Grownups’ bracelets. The fabric that goes into the barrel is an explosive material. When it ignites, the barrel channels the explosion, drives a metal ball out fast enough to kill. Maybe it is “primitive” in Gaston’s opinion, but it makes our weapons look worthless in comparison.

“Em and the others brought back five muskets,” he says. “Each one is handmade. The parts aren’t really interchangeable, which is strange to me. Maybe they don’t have factories that can mass-produce these. There is enough ammunition to fire each musket seven times. Beckett and I think we can use the shuttle to make more ammunition. Maybe even more muskets, but we’re not sure yet.”

Gaston steps back, his lecture finished. The people look terrified, and I don’t blame them—there are monsters in the jungle that can kill us before we can even see them.

Spingate holds up the bashed purple fruit. She trembles with excitement.

“We tested it on the contaminated food,” she says. “The juice of this fruit kills the red mold.”

A roaring cheer rips the air. People grab at each other, unable to contain their joy. Gaston hugs Spingate, squeezes her and slaps her on the back so hard she winces and laughs.

If we can find enough fruit, we have an entire warehouse of food—years’ worth, enough to keep us alive while we learn to farm and hunt. Everyone is hungry, but now there is hope.

Aramovsky clasps his hands together and looks skyward.

“It is a miracle,” he says. “We are delivered.”

“Hardly,” Spingate says quickly. “We only have this one fruit.

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