The Gypsy Morph

SIXTEEN

THE SUNRISE WAS BLOOD RED. Hawk had never seen one like it, and it disturbed him for reasons he could not explain. It was more than the strangeness of it. It wasn’t even that it felt ominous. It was that it signaled something, a shift in the order of things perhaps, that wasn’t apparent on the surface but that he could feel somewhere deep down inside where such things wedge themselves and refuse to be dislodged.

Still flushed with the news of Tessa’s pregnancy, he had risen in the best and most hopeful of moods. No matter the odds, no matter the obstacles, no matter anything that might lie ahead, he and Tessa would overcome it because they had a child to nurture and protect. He knew little of babies, but everything of children, and he was ready to see that his was given every chance at growing up strong and healthy. Even in a world that was all but destroyed. Even in a world he was trying to leave. Hawk wanted this as he had wanted little else in his life. His child, his and Tessa’s. Its birth would be the most beautiful thing that had ever happened to him. It gave him hope; it made him feel that everything he had gone through or might go through in the days ahead was worth it.

His euphoria was dimmed but not overwhelmed by the odd sunrise, and when they set out that morning he was still smiling inwardly at the thought of his secret. A baby. What could be more wonderful than that?

He went to Tessa while she was still sleeping and woke her, hugging her close, kissing her and telling her how much he loved her, how pleased and excited he was. She hugged him back, and for a few moments the oppressiveness of the sunrise faded behind the bright veil of their happiness.

“We’ll tell the others at breakfast,” he whispered to her.

“Not until tonight,” she urged. “I want to tell Owl first. I want her to know before anyone else.”

He was quick to agree, and he went about the business of rousting the others and preparing for them to set out with such enthusiasm that more than a few looked at him as if he had lost his mind. He ignored the looks and the mumbled comments and all the rest, caught up in his own celebration.

“Try to get a grip, Bird‑Man,” Panther grumbled at one point, his minimal patience with such euphoria quickly exhausted. “You look possessed or something. Real scary–like.”

Owl, wheeling herself over to the AV, overheard the comment. She stopped long enough to tug on Hawk’s sleeve. “Don’t listen to him.”

Hawk glanced down and shrugged. “Don’t worry. He’s just being Panther.”

“I know. But nevertheless.” She grinned. “What you look like is someone who has a secret that he ought to share.”

He gave her a sharp look, caught the satisfaction reflected in her eyes. “You know, don’t you?”

“I might.”

“Tessa told you?”

“Sparrow. She overheard you talking last night.”

He shook his head. “Jeez. Why don’t we just post a big sign for everyone to read?”

“Why don’t you just tell everybody and get it over with?”

“Tessa wanted to wait until tonight.”

Owl nodded. “It might not keep that long. You know how this bunch is with secrets.”

He wheeled her over to the AV and helped her inside, where Candle and River were already waiting. He called Tessa over and tried to put her in the vehicle, too, but she waved him off. “You ride for a while,” she told him. “You never ride.”

“Yeah, you must be exhausted, what with all that baby–making and stuff,” Panther sniffed, walking by.

Just like that. He didn’t slow as he said it, didn’t even look back as he strolled on. Hawk stared after him, openmouthed.

River leaned forward from the backseat. “What are you going to name the baby, Hawk?”

“Is it going to be a little boy or a little girl?” Candle wanted to know. Her blue eyes were bright and eager. “I’m going to have a little brother or sister. Sort of. Almost. I can pretend, I think.”

“As I was saying,” Owl declared softly.

Hawk rolled his eyes and walked away, calling for Fixit to take the wheel of the Lightning and Chalk to keep him company. So much for secrets and surprise announcements.

They rolled east into the mountains, winding through a pass that took them away from the banks of the Columbia and up into the higher elevations. For a time, it looked as if they were going to cross quickly and be back on the flats beyond. But by midday, they had encountered a section of roadway riddled with rockslides and sinkholes too wide to be avoided, and they were forced to abandon the hay wagon, pack what supplies they could atop the AV, and continue with half their number afoot. Progress slowed, and the day seeped away like water through cupped hands.

By nightfall, they were still only midway across, still high in the passes and forced to sleep on ground virtually empty of grasses and littered with rocks. Owl, River, and Candle slept in the AV, but Sparrow turned up her nose at the idea, declaring she was as tough as any boy, and Tessa slept with Hawk, curled up against him, sharing her warmth and the promise of their future.

Hawk did make the baby announcement that night at dinner, but by then it was old news to almost everyone but Fixit and Chalk, who were always the last to know everything. Cheers and smiles greeted the news anyway, even by those who had known all day, and only Cat kept pointedly aloof from the celebration.

“Sort of silly, all this celebrating about a baby not even born yet,” Panther sneered quietly, sitting down next to her when things had quieted down.

“I don’t think it’s silly,” she replied.

He looked at her. “Well, your face says something else.”

“My face, huh?”

“Sure.” He sounded less certain. “Says different.”

She looked him full on, her mottled face set in a hard glare. “Says different, you think?”

He didn’t say anything this time, just nodded.

“You’re awful quick with that mouth of yours.”

He dropped his eyes. “Sometimes.”

“Here’s the thing, Panther. When you look like me, you don’t want to hear about other people’s babies. That kind of happiness isn’t ever going to be yours. You don’t want to even think about it. You just want to hurry up and get on with your life.”

He stared back at her, his dark face flushed. Then he shrugged away his discomfort and said, “Sorry. I didn’t mean nuthin’ bad. I was just talking.”

“Well, don’t,” she snapped. She stared at him a moment longer, anger reflected in her green eyes. Then she reached up suddenly with her hand and stroked his cheek. Her voice softened. “Just don’t.”

The next day was another slog through the passes under skies turned dark with clouds and the air grown thick with dust and ash. Where this weather had come from was anybody’s guess, but it wasn’t friendly and it wasn’t conducive to good thoughts. The Ghosts walked all day, navigating a roadway littered with rocks and debris, some of which had to be removed by hand on numerous occasions to permit passage for the AV. It rained at one point, a thick spattering of heavy droplets that barely dampened the concrete of the highway and the earth of the surrounding countryside before being absorbed. The air turned hot and cold by turns, and the haze came and went.

Hawk, walking point with Bear, had never seen anything like it. He wasn’t sure if it was a quirk in the weather pattern or a reaction to all the pollution, poisonings, and chemical warfare. Or if it was generated by a deeper, more pervasive climatic change that had been building for much longer than he had been alive. What he did know was that it made him uneasy. It made him want to gather up everyone whom he was supposed to lead to safety and get to where they were supposed to go.

When the earth rumbled later in the day, a violent shake that sent those walking to their knees and caused the AV to skid sideways so far it almost went off the road, he thought maybe this was a prelude to something much bigger. He glanced at Bear, down on his knees beside him, and shook his head.

“Smell the air,” the other boy said quietly.

Hawk did, taking a deep sniff. “Sulfur,” he said quietly.

Bear nodded. “Bad stuff, sulfur. We had a pool of it back on the farm, down by the south pasture. The smell was so bad that no one went near it. It could knock you out, make you real sick.”

Hawk glanced at the sky. “Maybe it will blow away by dark.”

It did, but the haze remained, thick and clingy, a visceral feeling to it. The Ghosts hunkered down in their coats and tried to breathe through parts of their clothing. The twilight was raw with its presence, the sky colored metallic and the surrounding countryside flat black and gray, as if there were no depth to anything.

They were passing through the hill country below the peaks, expectations of reaching their destination beginning to crowd in on their discomfort, when they saw what appeared at first as a soft glow against the horizon. But as the little company drew closer, the light became a glare, one that all of them instantly recognized.

“Watch fires.” Bear said it first. “All across the roadway ahead.”

Hawk nodded. “Someone’s blocking the way.”

“Militia,” Catalya declared, coming up beside him. “Wait here while I have a look.”

Without waiting for his permission, she bounded off into the darkness. Panther was slow coming up or he would have gone with her, Hawk thought, hearing the other boy mumble a low curse as he realized what had happened.

“You should’ve stopped her,” he snapped.

Hawk glanced over. “Don’t think that was possible.”

“Shut up, Panther Puss,” Sparrow muttered, shoving him aside as she shouldered her Parkhan Spray and stood braced and ready, facing out toward the fires. “Save it for those who need it.”

They waited impatiently, silently, a clutch of dark figures slowly disappearing into the deepening night’s shroud. Time slipped away on wings that flew swift and sure, and Catalya did not return. Hawk began to grow uneasy. The girl was smart and experienced, but one mistake among adults with weapons would undo all that in a moment’s time. If she had been seen, they would have already seized her and made her their prisoner. In that case, he would have to go in after her. Not Panther, who couldn’t be trusted with that sort of task. Not the way he felt about this girl. No, Hawk knew that he would have to do it.

Then all of a sudden she was back, appearing out of the night as if born of it, her slight figure materializing right in front of them.

“Frickin’ hell!” Panther snapped at her. “You shouldn’t of done that, going off by your own self! Who do you think you are, girl? You couldn’t wait for me?”

She gave him a glance. Then her eyes were back on Hawk. “It’s a militia of some sort, several hundred, maybe more. Planted right across the roadway and for some ways to either side. I couldn’t be sure. They almost had me. They’ve got some good ears and eyes in that bunch. I don’t know what they’re doing, but they’re set on holding this road. You can tell.”

Hawk nodded. “Then we have to go around.” He glanced at the others. “I don’t like trying this at night, but we have a better chance of not being seen if we do it now. What do you think?”

“I think we do it like you say,” Bear answered for the others, who just nodded. Except for Panther, who spit and walked away in disgust. With Panther, you never knew.

Hawk split them into two groups. He put Fixit at the wheel and Chalk beside him in the AV, with Owl, Candle, River, and Tessa in back. He put Sparrow on the AV’s roof with her Parkhan Spray. He took Panther, Bear, and Cheney with him, and put Catalya on point, her sharp senses their best defense against hidden dangers now that Candle no longer seemed reliable. He was sorry about that loss–sorry for Candle and for them. He had talked with Owl about it, tried to come up with a reason for it, but neither of them could solve the puzzle of the little girl’s problem. In any case, they could not rely on her.

They would have to do the best they could with the new girl.

He glanced down at Cheney, and the big dog’s head lifted slightly, the dangerous eyes meeting his own. Cheney would help them if he could.

Catalya deposited Rabbit in Owl’s lap, and they set out. They moved off the highway and into a long rolling stretch of hills that were lightly wooded. Catalya took them northward on a course parallel to the fires, staying well back from where the militia would be keeping watch on the countryside. The AV rolled like a big, sluggish beast over the rough terrain, the engine a soft growl, but still audible from some distance away. Hawk wished they could muffle the sound further, but there was nothing he could do about it. A wind was blowing down out of the mountains, and sudden gusts cut into the low rumble and might fool anyone who didn’t know better. But Hawk didn’t think they could depend on that.

It took an hour before Catalya turned them east again, down a ravine and then up again along the windward side of a high berm. Suddenly they were moving through a blackness sheltered from the distant firelight, a landscape illuminated solely by moon and stars. The sky remained overcast, so there was little light by which to navigate, only enough so that the Ghosts were able to make their way. The north wind had died away, leaving the night still and empty–feeling about them.

They emerged from behind the berm into rolling grasslands. A heavy mist had moved in, settling in pools in the low places, in the ravines and depressions, like standing water concealing hidden depths. Hawk didn’t like it. It was becoming increasingly difficult to see anything or to judge accurately the nature of the terrain they were trying to cross. He caught up with Catalya and warned her in a hushed voice to be careful of sinkholes and rifts. She nodded without speaking, her eyes intense as she scanned the landscape ahead.

They continued, and the fog increased, growing heavier and thicker about them, rising slowly until they were wading through it. Catalya signaled for a halt and came back to huddle with Hawk.

“Can’t see anything now,” she admitted. “I don’t like it.”

Hawk glanced toward the watch fires south. They were almost clear of them now, some distance off, but still too close. “It can’t be any better for them,” he told her. “Maybe we should just wait this out, give it time to thin. Wait here. I’ll talk it over with the others.”

He was starting back, his mind made up, when he heard Cheney’s low growl. He looked left and then right, just in time to see a scattering of figures appear through the gloom, still far off, but coming closer.

He heard shouts and saw several of the figures pointing, and then the mist rose in a sudden swell and swallowed everything.

“Run!” he shouted to the others, waving for the AV to follow.

They charged ahead, angling away from the shadowy figures. Militia scouts, Hawk decided. Not that many, but they would be armed. Whether they had heard the Ghosts or just stumbled on them was difficult to say, but the result was the same.

Panther caught up to him, his Parkhan Spray held ready. “Can we take them?” he asked, breathing hard. “You and me?”

“No fighting!” Hawk hissed at him. “We don’t fight unless we have to!”

Panther grinned wickedly and sprinted ahead, as if looking for an excuse. Catalya went after him, giving Hawk a look of disgust as she went by. For him or for Panther, he couldn’t tell. Bear was lumbering just behind, and the AV was lurching through the fields, bouncing wildly across the rough spots.

He heard shots then, somewhere off to his right where they had first spied the militia scouts. The shots were sporadic and didn’t seem directed at anything in particular. Meant to scare them, he thought. He glanced around as he ran, trying to count heads. All he could see was Bear. The murkiness was growing thicker and heavier, more difficult to penetrate. Already the AV was gone, although he could still hear it. They were in danger of becoming separated, he realized. He peered ahead for Panther and Catalya, but he couldn’t see them.

“Bear!” he shouted. “Stay close!”

But Bear was swallowed in the haze. He couldn’t see Cheney, either.

He couldn’t see anyone.

INSIDE the LIGHTNING S-150 AV, there was complete chaos. Everyone was yelling at once, mostly at Fixit because he was the one driving. They were shouting at him not to lose sight of the others, not to turn this way or that, not to run over anyone, not to hit any big holes, you name it. Even Owl couldn’t make herself heard above the shouting. Fixit was doing his best to stay focused on the task at hand, regardless of the wildness of the other kids, but he was having a hard time of it. He couldn’t see any of the Ghosts outside the vehicle; he could barely see to drive, the mist a thick blanket surrounding them on all sides.

He could hear gunfire somewhere off in the distance, but he had no idea which direction it was coming from.

Chalk grabbed his arm, nearly causing him to lose control. “What’s happened to everyone?” the other boy yelled.

“Let go of me!” Fixit yelled back, jerking his arm free.

The wheel spun through his fingers, and he grabbed hard to steady it, but the AV skidded sideways, bounced, and then lurched ahead once more. By now Fixit had no idea where he was, let alone where the others were or the people firing weapons. He reached down hurriedly and switched on the loran. The landscape came into sharp focus, the AV a green dot against the flat, empty background, and he had his direction back again.

“Shut up!” he shouted at everyone yelling around him.

To his surprise, they quieted down instantly. He glanced angrily at them as he drove, eyes searching. “If you want to do something helpful, look for the others,” he ordered. “See if you can spot anyone in this muck!”

He slowed the vehicle, crawling ahead cautiously, and they all began searching the haze. Fixit rolled down their windows so they could hear better, maybe catch a hint of what was happening outside. Nothing. No weapons fire, no shouts, no sounds at all. Just the low rumble of the AV. He tried to think what else he could do.

“Over there,” River said suddenly, pointing left.

Fixit saw two shadowy figures making their way through the haze at a rapid pace, not quite running, but almost. They were slight of build, kids like himself. He swung the AV toward them, reaching down to snap the safety off the stun charges. He wanted to be ready, just in case.

“That’s Panther,” Owl said quickly.

The two figures heard them coming and stopped to wait. It was indeed Panther and, with him, Catalya. They were breathing hard as the AV rolled up to them, and they came over to peer inside.

“What’s happened to the others?” Panther demanded. “Where’s Bird‑Man and Bear and Cheney?”

Fixit shook his head. “We got lost. We don’t know where they are. We were lucky to find you!”

“Well, you have to find them, too. Stump–head militia’s looking for them, somewhere back there.” He pointed in the direction from which they had come. His dark face glowered. “Don’t know where, exactly. Can’t see anything in this stuff.”

Catalya looked worried, unusual for her. “I thought I saw something else back there. Something big.”

The others stared at her. “Something big?” Panther repeated. “I didn’t see nuthin’.”

“If they’re behind us, maybe they can catch up if we just wait,” River suggested.

“Don’t think waiting around is a good idea,” Panther said at once. He glanced in at the control panel. “Hey, Fixit, you got a way of tracking movement on that thing? You know, finding anything else that’s moving around out there?”

Fixit frowned. “I don’t know. That wasn’t something Logan Tom taught me to do. He didn’t trust the loran. So I just use it to find directions. I haven’t tried using it to track anyone.”

“Well, try now.”

Fixit bent to the loran, fiddling with the switches and buttons, attempting to decipher what they would do. There were menus and choices of all sorts, and many of the words were unfamiliar to the boy.

“Wait,” Owl said suddenly from the backseat. “Ask Sparrow if she’s seen anything!”

“Sparrow?” Panther asked in confusion.

“She’s on the roof,” Owl explained, thinking even as she said so, Why is she so quiet? “Sparrow!” she called.

Panther and Catalya glanced quickly at each other, then at the AV roof and then back at Owl. “Forget it,” Panther said. “Ain’t no one there.”

Everyone stared at him in silence.