Marcus Slidwell's Arc

Chapter 6 of 6

By the third week, Marcus had walked every gully within a half day of the bunker and found nothing new. He had six repeat sightings of the common cluster and one dead spiketail on a rock. The guide sat open on the bench at entry forty-nine, blank. He counted the pages he still needed to fill and understood he had stripped the ground around him bare. If he wanted more species, he had to go where he had not been. Reid came down at dusk with dried meat and a warning. The six-legged one had turned back west two days ago. "He's near your shelter," Reid said. "Not the bunker. Yet." "I need to go north," Marcus said. "Past the ridges. A week out." Reid chewed. "Alone?" "Unless you know the country." "I don't." Marcus rolled a map on the bench. He had traced the cliffs to the north from the observation post above the shelter, back when he still slept there. A stone tower sat on the far side of those cliffs, half-fallen, wind-scoured. He had seen it once through the glass and marked it. It would hold a man and a jar. Kaia Shellmark came down the slope the next morning with a pack on her back. She did not greet him. She looked at the map, then at the tower mark. "Cliffside," she said. "I've been past it. Crystal slugs on the north face. Four kinds I couldn't name." Marcus stared at her. "You'll show me?" "I'm going that way. The council meets in twelve days. I need counts from the north colonies for my case." She adjusted the strap on her shoulder. "You keep up or you turn back." They left at first light. Reid stayed with the sealed chamber and the guide. Marcus carried the reinforced jar wrapped in cloth, two smaller jars, and food for eight days. Kaia set a pace he could barely hold. She did not talk on the trail. On the fourth day they climbed the last ridge and saw the tower. It stood against the cliff face, stone and weathered wood, narrow windows cut into the walls. A plank walkway ran around the second floor. The door at the base still held. Marcus pushed it open. Dust. A dry floor. A bench under one window. He set the jar on the bench and looked out through the slit. Below, on a sun-warmed shelf of rock, a slug the size of his boot dragged itself across the stone. Green and pink crystals rose from its back in a fan. He opened the guide to entry forty-nine and started to draw. Kaia stood in the doorway watching the trail behind them. "Two days," she said. "Then I go on. You stay or you come." Marcus did not look up. He had a new base and new ground. He also had six days to fill the guide before he was alone in it.