Renegade (5 page)

J
erren led me down the stairs and along to the stern. The corridor wasn't as gloomy as the one on Dare's ship. Instead of wood paneling, the walls were white, though flaking and crumbling in places. Open doors revealed cabins filled with makeshift beds built on wooden crates, and roughly folded blankets. If the accommodations weren't as comfortable as our cabins on Hatteras Island had been, they weren't far off.

The ship wasn't large, and in less than twenty paces we stood before the farthest door. Jerren opened it wide.

This was no cabin. Desks ran along either side, built to follow the contours of the curved walls. Above each one were three sturdy metal shelves. They were lined with books and machines. No space had been wasted.

“What is this?” I asked.

“I figured you could tell me. They never let me see it. To be honest, they never let me on board at all.”

“I thought you said—”

“That it was a reconnaissance ship, yes. And that it was well stocked. Doesn't mean Chief let me anywhere near it. He always said I was too young, but now I think it was because he didn't trust me.”

“Can't imagine why,” I deadpanned.

Jerren gave a low chuckle. “After everything he did to us, it feels good to have gotten the better of that guy.”

“Yes, it does.” I felt embarrassed for having trusted Chief. “We owe you our lives, you know that? Without you, we never would've escaped from Sumter.”

Jerren shrugged. “Yeah, well . . . Nyla and me owe you
our
lives too, right? We had no future there. Maybe we'll have better luck on Roanoke.”

I took a box from the lowest shelf and opened it. There were maps inside. I opened each of them and laid them side by side. “Look at this stuff. There's nautical maps of Charleston Harbor. Maps of the whole east coast of the mainland.”

Jerren picked up a small book and flicked through the pages. “The other ship didn't have this much stuff, did it?”

“No. But something tells me, Dare doesn't need it either.”

“You really think he can sail without maps?”

“Yes, I do. That's why I won't feel safe no matter how much distance we put between us and the other ship. He knows these waters differently than everyone else, I think.”

I moved on to a desk lined with machines and ran my fingers across them lightly to see which of them still worked. Three flashlights gave off a dull glow, while a radio emitted static. The next machine was a piece of flat, circular glass surrounded by metal. The glass was dark and blank, but as I ran my fingers along the metal edge, a green dot appeared in the center. A thin shaky line ran above it and down to the left.

Just like everything else I touched for the first time, the machine startled me. It wasn't so much the dull ache that hovered in the background every time I used my element, but the surprise of what I was able to do. During our escape from Sumter, Jerren had shaped and redirected sound, but that had been the extent of his element. For me, every new machine was a mystery I was unearthing. My element felt limitless.

“What's that?” asked Jerren. He pointed at the green dot.

“It's a satellite navigation system,” came a voice from the doorway.

I hadn't heard Tarn enter. She leaned against the doorframe, tired eyes lingering on the glass screen before me. When she opened her mouth to speak, a sigh came out first. “I never thought I'd see one of those things again.”

“What does it do?” I asked.

“Tells you where you are.”

“We know where we are. We're on the ocean.”

Tarn smiled. She moved closer to the machine. “That dot there is us. And this jagged line to the northwest is the Carolina coast. This machine isn't just telling us we're on the ocean. It's telling us exactly where we are on the ocean.”

“How exact?” Jerren asked.

“Hard to say, without knowing the machine. But I'd guess it's accurate to within a couple boat lengths.”

Jerren let out a long breath.

“How does it work?” I asked.

Tarn shifted her weight from one foot to another. “It's called triangulation. This is going to be impossible for you to understand, but there are machines in the sky called satellites. They run on solar power, which is why they're still going, I guess. They send signals, which are received by this machine. The signals arrive at different times depending on how far away they are. This machine then calculates our location based on those three points in space.”

“How did the machines get up there?”

“We sent them,” answered Tarn. “Many years ago. Before the Exodus and the Plague. It's kind of crazy to think about it . . . how the only machinery that hasn't suffered over eighteen years is the stuff we put in space.”

“Not the
only
machinery,” I reminded her. “This thing works too.” I removed my finger and watched the dot blink out. Then I touched the machine again and savored the control as it sparked to life. Here at last was a reminder of what my element might contribute—there was power in controlling a machine like this, and I was only just beginning to realize the potential. “Does it work on land?”

Tarn watched me from the corner of her eye. “It should, yes.”

“Then we'll always know where we are.” I tapped the glass. “What about other ships? Can we see them?”

“I don't know exactly what this system can do. But I have a feeling you'll work it out.” She turned to leave.

“You know a lot about this stuff, Tarn.”

She paused. “There was a time all of us depended on the ocean. And knowing how to stay alive on it.” She sounded wistful.

“So you know how to operate some of these other machines, then?”

“No.” She closed the door soundlessly. “Look, Thomas,” she said, quieter now, “I know we've kept things from you—all of you—but we need to stick together.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Talk to Ananias. Alice too.” She flashed a look at Jerren, as if this affected both of us. “She's shutting me out. I don't know why, but I do know that if we can't work together, we're all going to die before we reach Roanoke.”

I wasn't sure what to say to that. In the event, I didn't get to say anything, because a cry came from down the corridor—a girl's voice, short and sharp. It came to an abrupt and unnatural stop, as if someone was covering her mouth.

Jerren flashed me a look. “That's Nyla.”

We piled out of the room together. Griffin was inside the first cabin on the left, awake, resting on a nest of blankets. I joined him, certain that Nyla, his constant companion, would be in there too.

She was gone.

G
riffin craned his neck to see me. Then he caught my expression, and frowned.
All. Right?
he asked.

Yes
. If Nyla was in trouble, I didn't want him to know about it. Yet.

Jerren had continued along the corridor without me, bouncing off the walls in his haste, unable to protect his good arm. Nyla had only screamed once, but he seemed to have a very good idea of where the sound had come from.

“Jerren!” I shouted.

He didn't stop. Just blundered all the way to the last door, which he opened swiftly. Alice was standing right there, a tray in her hands. “Nyla dropped a water canister,” she explained.

Sure enough, Nyla was on her knees, mopping up a pool of water with a handful of rags. “Is she all right?” I asked.

“She's fine,” said Alice.

But Nyla had her back to us, and she still hadn't said a word. “Are you all right, Nyla?”

She nodded, but didn't turn around. “It was a shock, that's all.”

Jerren knelt beside his sister and eased the rags from her hands. “It's okay,” he told her. “Everything's okay.”

Alice pressed the tray into my hands. “While you're here, you may as well take that up.”

Tarn joined us then. She tried to peer around Alice. “Nyla sounded petrified,” she whispered.

Alice's expression shifted—no longer patient and conciliatory, but fiery. “Yesterday she found her parents' bodies. She got bitten by rats. Now she might have Plague, and she's scared to death.”

“We know what happened,” I said.

“So why was no one tending to her? Griffin too,” she added, glaring at me.

“Something came up.”

“Did it now?” She tapped the tray. “Well, I've prepared the food. Is it asking too much for you to serve it?”

The tray was covered with fresh green leaves and cured fish. Jerren wasn't wrong when he said that the ship was kept stocked and ready. But as I headed upstairs I didn't feel particularly hungry, just confused and chastened.

The afternoon was late, the sun already low in the sky as I emerged on deck. Tarn was close behind me, hands full with water canisters. We set everything on the deck, shooing away the gulls that swooped down to steal our food.

Father was at the wheel, while Ananias stood at the stern, watching the pursuing ship through my binoculars. I joined him. Dare's ship was trailing us by over a mile now, but I didn't comment on it. It would have seemed like tempting fate to say out loud that we were steadily pulling away.

Ananias lowered the binoculars. “When we switched ships earlier, Alice saw Dare join you on the other ship.”

“I didn't see him. I promise.”

“I believe you. But why did he let you escape? I mean, he could've killed you, or trapped you on that ship. Kept you hostage until the rest of us surrendered. Instead, it's almost like he hid from you. You have to admit, it's weird.”

“Yes, it is. Unless he
wanted
to be back on his ship.”

Ananias handed me the binoculars. “Then what's he doing
now
?”

I aimed the binoculars at the distant ship. Four men stood near the prow, facing us. But Dare wasn't among them.

“Alice says Dare looked unarmed as he boarded that ship,” continued Ananias in a low voice. “Maybe the Sumter men decided to get rid of him.”

I waited for Dare to reappear, to raise his colorful arms and wave, tormenting us even as he was losing the battle once and for all. “Dare's a seer. He won't disappear as easily as that.”

“Maybe they know he let you escape . . . like he let you escape from the gunroom on Fort Sumter.”

I lowered the binoculars. I had the feeling these questions weren't really about Dare at all. “What are you getting at?”

He met my eyes. “Why does Dare need you alive?”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Don't you? You really haven't wondered how all this is happening to
you
?”

“All
what
?”

“Oh, come on, Thomas. A few weeks ago you were an afterthought in this colony. Didn't even realize you had an element at all. Now you and Dare have this game of cat and mouse going, and he seems to know every move we make before it even happens. Kind of a coincidence, isn't it?”

“It's not a coincidence. He's a
seer
.”

“I'm just saying—”

“
What?
What are you saying, Ananias?” I reminded myself that this wasn't the old Ananias talking. He was still grieving for Eleanor, the girl he'd loved, and in shock from discovering that our mother was alive. But I couldn't hide my anger. “In case you haven't noticed, Dare's
your
uncle too. And it was
our
mother he didn't kill, not just mine. And you know what else? He's not the only one with a history of violence. Seems the Guardians have blood on
their
hands too.”

“Sounds like you're quite sympathetic to him.”

“Not sympathetic. Just sick of everyone's lies.” I lowered my voice as Alice and Jerren joined us on deck. “Believe me, if Dare isn't dead already, I'll stand with you and finish him off. That, I can promise you.”

I figured that Ananias would have more to say. Until recently, he never would've let me have the final word. But maybe that was what was really at stake here. This wasn't about Dare, or the Guardians. It was about
us
—how our roles had been reversed. For years he'd looked out for Griffin and me, while the Guardians groomed him to take charge of the colony. Now there was no colony, and Griffin and I were at the heart of everything that was happening. Where did that leave him? What was his role now?

Ananias walked away. He took a plate of food from Alice and ate, keeping his distance from both Father and me.

He wasn't the only one eating in silence. Everyone seemed to be splitting their attention between mouthfuls of cured fish and the chasing ship. The quiet didn't feel peaceful either, but uncomfortable, as if we didn't know what to say to each other anymore.

It was almost a relief when Dennis piped up. “I saw how you helped us escape from Sumter,” he told Jerren. “Your element's kind of weird.”

Jerren chuckled. “I think it's weird that any of us can do what we do.”

“I guess so. How many elementals are there?” Dennis asked no one in particular.

Tarn and my father exchanged glances, but Marin didn't look up at all. “It's not important,” she answered.

“It's important to me.”

Father cleared his throat. “Years ago, there were thousands of us, but most lived too far from Roanoke for their elements to work. Some probably spent their whole lives not even knowing what they could do. Elements fade throughout adulthood, especially if they're not used.”

“Someone should've told them about it,” said Dennis indignantly.

Tarn took over as Father gave a resigned sigh. “Most parents who left Roanoke did it so their children could grow up free from the burden of an element.”

“You mean, there could be hundreds of children out there who have elements, and they don't even know it?”

“In the past, yes. But not now. Not anymore.”

Dennis picked up a spinach leaf and dropped it again. “What about a solution?”

“What about it?”

“I mean, what if Griffin's not the only one?”

“Solutions are elements that fix an existing problem. So only a child born since the Exodus could be a solution. And to be honest, I don't think there are many children left,” Tarn said. She swallowed the last words, no doubt thinking of her daughter Eleanor, who had died only a few days earlier.

Another awkward silence. This time, Marin broke it. “I hear you grew up on Fort Dauphin, Jerren. That's a very long way from Roanoke Island. I'm surprised your element worked at all down there.”

“It was really weak,” he admitted. “Hardly an element at all. But the one time I used it on people, it surprised them. Just me being able to twist sound at all . . . they didn't know what to make of it, you know?”

“And what about your sister? What's Nyla's element?”

He shrugged. “She doesn't have one. At least, not that I know of.”

“A child without an element. Or maybe a child who doesn't understand her element.” Marin raised her eyebrow provocatively. “Just like Thomas, really. And we all know what's happened since Thomas found out what he can do. Kyte and Joven and Eleanor are dead, and I don't believe for a moment they'll be the last to die.”

I was about to fight back when Dennis beat me to it.

“Stop it!” he yelled. He faced his mother, small hands clamped into fists at his sides. “Why are you always like this?”

If Marin had expected resistance, it certainly hadn't been from Dennis. Now she stared at him with narrowed eyes, as if he were a stranger who looked vaguely familiar. “If you've finished eating,” she said coolly, “I suggest you choose a cabin. You must be tired—”

“I'm not tired!” Dennis looked fit to explode. “The only reason we're alive is because of Thomas. Jerren and Alice too. On Sumter, Chief had plans for
me,
not you. It was
me
he wanted to keep around in the colony. Don't you see? They would've gotten rid of you just as soon as they could. You would've died, or been killed, and I would've been all alone in that place.”

“You don't know that,” Marin replied, but for once her words lacked conviction.

Dennis regarded his mother with a pitying expression, as if he were the adult and she, the child. “Father's gone, Mother,” he said. “The things he said . . . they don't matter anymore. Thomas isn't what you think. We have to stop looking at everything through Father's eyes.”

I didn't know what to say. The conversation didn't include me, but I was at the heart of it. And if there was one thing I'd thought I knew, it was that Dennis would never question his mother.

Now that it was clear Dennis had no intention of leaving, let alone going to bed, Marin stood instead. But as she left, she looked at me with an expression I'd never seen before, wondering and uncertain. And though she didn't say a word, that look communicated plenty. It was the first time I felt that she wasn't looking straight through me.

Finally, her eyes shifted, back past the stern to the ship pursuing us. Straightaway her mouth fell open and her expression changed. But she didn't find a word to express her shock.