Thomas's Arc

Chapter 3 of 4

The needle had been on empty for an hour when the pickup coughed and quit. Thomas coasted it off the cracked road into a stand of dry brush and let it roll to a stop. He shut off the key out of habit. In the sudden quiet he heard Emmy breathing next to him, quick and shallow. He looked in the mirror. The road behind them was empty, but empty did not mean safe. The Vael hunted by heat. Sitting in a metal box in the sun was the same as lighting a fire. "We walk," he said. Emmy nodded once. She pulled her shoes tight and climbed out. Thomas grabbed the red bag from the floor, a jug of water, and a folding knife from the glovebox. He left the doors open so the cab would not bake and blink on their scanners any brighter than it had to. He took Emmy's hand. She let him for three steps, then took it back and walked on her own. They moved along the low side of a ridge where the shadow was longest. Thomas kept them off the ridgeline. He watched the ground for tracks and the sky for dust. Emmy did not talk. Her gym shoes hissed against the sand. After a mile the ridge opened into a shallow bowl, and Thomas dropped to a crouch and pulled Emmy down with him. Below them, on the flat, a Vael scout stood beside a wooden cart on iron wheels. Blue light ran along its seams in cold veins. The scout's antenna twitched, sweeping. Thomas put his mouth close to Emmy's ear. "See the rocks," he whispered. He pointed at a line of pale boulders that stepped down toward a ruined building half swallowed by rubble. "One at a time. When I move, you count to ten, then follow. Stay low." Emmy stared at the cart. Thomas saw her understand what it was for. Her jaw set. She nodded. He went first to the nearest boulder and pressed himself against the warm stone. The scout's head turned. Thomas held still until the antenna swept past. He waved Emmy forward. She came in a fast crouch, silent, and slid in behind him. They moved that way from rock to rock, from a leaning slab to the broken face of the ruin, using the rubble as a wall. Once, a small stone rolled from under Emmy's shoe. She caught it against her ankle before it could clack. Thomas felt his heart hit his ribs twice. The scout did not turn. They slipped out the far side of the ruin and kept low until the bowl was behind them. Thomas did not stop until the cart was out of sight. Emmy was pale and her hands shook, but she was walking. He handed her the water. She drank two swallows and gave it back. "Where are we going," she said. Thomas looked at the empty land ahead. "Away from that," he said. They walked.