The Star Dwellers (6 page)

“I would’ve been unrecognizable,” I say.
“Remember how stubborn I was after? How I said I could take care of
myself?”

“I’ve seen you take care of yourself. You’re
more than capable.”

“Yeah, but in that situation I was in way
over my head. That dude was a giant. He might’ve killed me. It was
then that I knew Cole was special.” My voice catches, but I plow
ahead, trying to mask it. “It’s so weird. I knew him for such a
short time, but I would’ve done anything for him. He was just
so…”

“Pure?” Tawni suggests, making eye
contact.

I brush my dark hair off my face with my
hand. “Yeah, exactly. Like all the bad stuff that happened to him
didn’t muddy his soul at all. Like he was above it all, better than
this world. In the muck, but not part of it.” My soul feels like
it’s slowly healing. This therapy session is for Tawni, but I’m
benefitting, too.

Tawni smiles. “I’m glad you felt that, too.
Although I knew Cole for five years, I can still remember when I
first met him.”

“How’d you meet?”

“He saved me, too,” Tawni says, closing her
eyes. I can almost see Cole’s strong face behind her eyelids. “Even
though we were rich, my parents sent me to a local school. They
said it was so I could live a normal life, but looking back, I
think it was just another way to get close to other moon dwellers.
You know, so they could report back to the Sun Realm on what the
mood was in the Moon Realm.” Tawni’s eyes are open again and she’s
frowning. I need to steer her thoughts away from her parents, who
only make her angry.

“You met Cole at school?” I ask.

Her eyes soften and she glances at me. “Yes.
The kids gave me a hard time at school. First off, I’ve always been
freakishly tall. They called me things like Tawni the Giant,
Ogre-Girl, and Freakazoid.”

“But you’re so pretty,” I say. I’m honestly
shocked. I thought she would have been one of the cool kids at
school, little miss popular, with good looks, lots of money, guys
lining up for her attention. I never considered the possibility
that she was bullied.

Tawni blushes. “Thanks,” she says. “Cole
always said that, too. Even though the kids made fun of me, it
didn’t bother me too much. They were just words. It was my parents
that caused the real problems.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, my mind filling
with thoughts of her dad beating her, her mom verbally abusing
her—perhaps they locked her in her room for days at a time.

As if reading my mind, she says, “My parents
didn’t do anything to me directly. But because of who they were and
the money we had, the kids at school took their bullying to a new
level. They still yelled names at me, but they also started
spray-painting my locker.
Rich bitch
was one of their
favorites. But that didn’t satisfy them because I ignored it,
pretended not to see it. So they took it up another notch. They
knocked my books out of my hands, pulled my hair in class, tripped
me in the halls. I remember lying to my parents about the scrapes
on my knees and elbows, telling them I fell down playing basketball
at recess.”

I pull my mouth into a tight line. I remember
when I found out about the lavish lifestyle that Tawni had. A big
house. Servants. Gobs of money. My first reaction was anger. I
never considered that Tawni paid the price for it at school. I feel
ashamed.

She continues. “It was getting pretty bad,
and I was considering telling someone. The principal, maybe. A
teacher. Anyone but my parents. One day I was outside the school,
eating my lunch by myself, trying to make myself invisible.”

Her story reminds me of how I was in juvie,
in the Pen. I was the same way. Always alone. I wonder if it’s why
she approached me in the Pen in the first place. Because she knew
how I was feeling.

“There was this guy, Graham, who, along with
his girlfriend, Tora, had been messing with me lately. They came up
behind me and pushed me over. My food spilled everywhere. When I
tried to pick it up, they stepped on it. A few of their friends saw
what they were doing and came over to join in the fun. There were
eight of them, four guys and four girls. I had never seen them this
bad. I could see in their eyes that they wanted to hurt me. Not
just humiliate—but physically injure me, maybe kill me. I’d never
been so scared in my life.”

Tawni is not like me. She’s not tough. She’s
fragile. All I want to do is protect her. I pray I’m strong
enough.

“Some of them picked up stones and were ready
to throw them at me. That’s when I met Cole. My knight in shining
armor. He burst through the circle like a bull. Two of the guys
went flying. The other two guys tried to hit him, but Cole was made
of steel. He blocked their punches and knocked them out. He
wouldn’t hit the girls although I could tell he wanted to. Instead
he growled at them to run away and they did. He got suspended for
two weeks, and I started spending all my time with him. No one
messed with either of us again. He was my best friend.”

Her eyes are moist, but not with sadness. Her
pride at having known Cole is just spilling over. I hug her.

We’ve lingered for far too long, but it seems
to have energized both of us as we stand up. Although we’re sick,
there’s a slight bounce to our steps. I feel like we might still
make it through this.

But those feelings can’t possibly last.

E
lsey is about to
follow her father into the water, but I grab her arm. “Elsey—no!” I
shout.

She looks at me blankly. “But Father told us
to follow him,” she says. I have a feeling she would jump into the
lava flow if he did first.

“I don’t think he’s thinking clearly,” I say.
“I’ll go pull him out.”

My head jerks up as I hear a splash. Ben is
bobbing in the center of the reservoir, staring at us. “What are
you waiting for? There’s a tunnel here.” Without further
explanation, he ducks under and kicks downwards, sending tiny
ripples chasing each other to the shore.

Elsey manages to squirm away from me and
dives in, making almost no splash. Roc looks at me and shrugs.
“After what we just did, I wouldn’t mind a quick dip.” I can always
tell when Roc is lying—like now. His lips are pursed, his eyebrows
raised slightly. He wants to look brave, but I can tell he’s
scared. Like I said, water’s not his thing.

“You first,” I say. I want to make sure no
one follows us. I still have no clue where Ben is taking us, but I
have to trust him.

This time I don’t kick Roc in the butt. He’s
scared enough as it is, so I let him dabble a toe in the water and
then wade in slowly. Once he’s waist deep, he pauses and I can tell
he’s trying to gather his nerve. Plugging his nose, he plunges into
the inky stream.

Before following, I turn and scan the area up
to the buildings. There’s no sign of movement. The shadowy
silhouettes of the downed troops blot the edge of the city. I catch
a whiff of burning when I breathe in. Whether it is a lingering
reminder of the bombing from three days ago or a new fire, I don’t
know.

I turn back to the water and slip in, pushing
off of the rocky embankment to propel myself forward. Expecting
complete darkness, I don’t bother to open my eyes, sweeping my
hands to each side to dive deeper, while churning my feet like a
propeller.

Ten seconds pass and still I go deeper. I
push forward with my hands, reaching out, trying to touch
something, an arm or a leg, anything to tell me I’ve caught up to
Roc, but I feel nothing. Nothing. And then…

Crunch!

Sharp pain lances through my fingers as my
knuckles glance off hard rock. I pull them back sharply, tucking
them to my chest for a moment. I’ve reached the reservoir floor
without finding anyone. Finally, I open my eyes and feel the cold
water swarm around my eyeballs.

As expected, blackness surrounds.

I swivel my head to the right, seeing nothing
but oil. Twisting back to the left, I see it. A light. A beacon. A
surprise. Off in the distance, something bright is bobbing through
the pool, moving away from me.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been underwater,
but my breath is becoming short. My instincts are urging me to kick
to the surface and breathe, but I know I can’t. I try to push all
thoughts of air out of my head as I kick hard, chasing the
light.

As I swim, more lights appear on either side
of the first one, except these are stationary, like the sentry
lights that guard the tunnels of the many inter-Realm trains. I am
gaining on the light.

When I reach the stationary lights, I find
they are embedded in the wall, illuminating the entrance to a
tunnel. An underwater tunnel! Ben isn’t crazy, after all. He knew
exactly what he was doing.

The moving light is in the tunnel and I can
barely make out shadowy figures flitting about it. I’m not sure how
long has passed since I entered the water, but my lungs are aching
for air. From its entrance, the tunnel appears endless, a never
ending chute to nowhere, or somewhere—it’s definitely one or the
other.

I grit my teeth and kick harder, shoveling
the water to either side with my hands. Thankfully, the tunnel is
wide enough to use my whole body to move me forward, and I feel a
surge of water around my ribs as I move faster through the abyss.
Chasing. Chasing. Chasing a damn light that seems to move
ceaselessly away from me.

My movements grow frantic as my body, my
blood, my brain demand air. I push harder and harder, straining
against my own limitations. The light moves upwards and disappears,
and I fear it’s gone out, plunging us all into darkness and
death.

I push on.

My vision gets blurry and I feel
lightheaded.

I push on.

One kick. Two kicks. Three kicks. I have
nothing left.

But I find something more. I push on.

I feel strong hands grab my tunic and pull me
up. I gasp, splutter, take deep breaths that are half-air,
half-water. Choking, I cough, trying to expel the intruding
liquid.

“Slowly, Tristan. Breathe slowly,” Ben says,
rolling me over onto my back.

I obey, deepening my breaths—in between each
gulp I’m still coughing—and trying to relax my heaving chest.
Gradually, I open my eyes to see Roc, Elsey, and Ben hovering over
me. They all appear to be perfectly fine—while I’m a mess.

“Who hates the water now?” Roc says,
smirking.

I’m too tired for a comeback. Plus Roc does
appear to have handled the long swim better than me. I take three
heavy breaths and start to feel better.

“Where are we?” I ask.

“See for yourself,” Ben says with a wave of
his arm. I roll over and look past him, at where he’s gesturing.
Everything’s blurry at first, so I blink a few times to clear my
eyes. Something comes into focus. It’s a…a…

“Train?” I say, not really believing my own
description.

“Traaaiiinnn,” Roc repeats slowly, sounding
out the word for me like I’m stupid. “T-R-A-I-N. Spell it with me,
Tristan.”

I ignore him and push up to my feet. Indeed,
it’s a train, gleaming silvery and metallic, even under the dim
glow of the lights inset into the brownish-gray rock walls. We are
in a small bunker, accessible only via the train that stands before
us, or the watery tunnel from where we arrived.

“Does it run?” I ask stupidly.

“Of course,” Ben says. “All of the secret
trains have been maintained by the Resistance for many years.”

“The Resistance…” I murmur, remembering my
history lessons. From what I can remember, the Resistance was
formed and destroyed in the same year, in 475 Post-Meteor, before I
was born. My father and his armies crushed the Resistance like a
bug before it could ever really do any real damage to the
government. “But the Resistance was destroyed,” I say.

“You’ve been reading sun dweller history
books, I see,” Ben says. “The real story is much darker and more
complicated than your father wants anyone to believe.”

My mind whirls. But if there are still secret
trains maintained by the Resistance, then that means the
organization still exists. That there are still people out there
fighting. “Tell me,” I say, my throat aching from swallowing too
much water.

“Maybe later—we’ve got a train to catch.”

I have so many questions, but Ben hasn’t led
us astray yet, so I follow him to the train doors, which open
automatically as he approaches. Elsey is clinging to his side.

“Will the train whisk us away to a better
place?” she asks innocently.

“I can’t see how it could take us to a worse
place,” Roc grumbles.

“We’ll see, Elsey, we don’t know whether
subchapter 1 has been hit yet,” Ben says, not sugarcoating the
situation, even for his youngest daughter. I can see how Adele got
so tough. Her father probably always gave it to her straight—the
real story, not some children’s fairy tale. A harsh truth perhaps,
but the truth nonetheless.

We step onto the train, which is spotless, in
better condition than even the sun dweller trains. The seats are
gray and hard, lined up efficiently along the edges like a military
convoy, with plenty of room in the middle for satchels of weapons
and ammunition. At least that is how I guess the space was being
used by the Resistance. Correction:
is
being used by the
Resistance. I’m still trying to get my head around what Ben
said.

While Roc and I take a seat with Elsey
between us, Ben presses a black button on the wall and speaks into
an intercom. “It’s Ben, requesting immediate train transport from
subchapter 26.” His leg is covered in blood, and I start ripping
shreds off my tunic so he can bind his wound.

There’s a bit of static, and then a female
voice comes through loud and clear. “Ben? Is it really you? We
thought…we thought you were dead.”