The Treemakers (A YA Dystopian Scifi Romance Adventure) (30 page)

“We’re going to go change,” I tell them, “and I need to let Serna know we’re leaving. Then, we’
ll go.”

To nods of assent, Mateo and I quickly climb the stairs. “I’ll meet you downstairs,” he says, and we part ways at the second floor as he continues on to
the third.

I tiptoe to my room, open the door quietly, and sneak inside. I gaze at my sleeping Baby Lou, bathed in the nightlight’s soft glow. Such a peaceful little angel. At once, a wave of swirling emotions threatens to sink me into the floor. I rush to shed my dress and tug on my new dark pants and long-sleeved shirt—which are too big, but fit well enough—then, I hurry out before I change my mind or weaken under the weight of my fear. Two doors down, I wake Serna to tell her we’
re leaving.

“Now?”
she mumbles.

“Yes. I need you to sleep in my room with
Baby Lou.”

In a few groggy seconds, she sits up, peels the covers back, and swings her legs over the bedside. She follows me to my room, and I leave her at the door, turning toward
the stairs.

“Joy, wait,” she says, and I pause. “What do I do if
. . .
if you don’t
come back?”

“I’ll be back. I promise.” And I swiftly descend the stairs before Serna’s worry can sway my
stubborn optimism.

I’m the last one downstairs. Already, everyone else is grouped by the door, waiting, but as soon as Emerson sees me, he whips it open, letting the cool night rush in. We blend into it like black paint in a dark river. Mateo limps along without his walking stick, and panic hits me. I hadn’t even thought of that. How will he be able to move quickly? I take his arm and fall behind the others with him. “What about your knee?” I
ask quietly.

“I’ll be fine. The adrenaline
will help.”

“Mateo, maybe you shouldn’t—”

“I’m not a cripple. Please, don’t worry. I won’t let you do this alone.” He takes my hand, pulls me down the winding sloped path to Raffai and the others at the bottom. Raffai has four crossbows waiting, like the ones Smudge had gotten
for us.

“I don’t condone killing,” he says. “In fact, killing any of the Subterrane people could mean serious trouble for Zentao. But I know what it’s like to lose a loved one
. . . .
” Grief paints his eyes a bright, sad blue, and he places a hand over his heart, on the shirt pocket that contains the blonde braid. “And it’s imperative that you children make it back here alive,” he adds. “But please, use these weapons only in case of emergency.” He hands me, Vila, and Jax each a crossbow, then trades Johnny his near-empty one for one fully-loaded.

Inspecting the weapon, I’m suddenly overwhelmed. Johnny will have to give me a lesson in
the trolley.

“I’m sorry I can’t afford you more weapons,” Raffai says. “We’re very
short ourselves.”

“We’ll be fine.” Emerson taps the bundle strapped to his back. “We have spears for the rest
of us.”

“And these.” Vila pats the knives tucked into her makeshift knife-holding belt. “In fact, here, Mat. You take this.” She hands him her crossbow. “I’m better
with knives.”

Raffai punches in a code on the bunker wall, and the doors part. Lights flicker on, and we step inside. Across the room, black doors reflect our dark, rippling forms as we approach them. There, Raffai punches in another code, and those doors open, as well, to our blue trolley on the other side. He takes a handful of breathers from a row of hooks by
the door.

“The air down there is dubious,” he says. “Best to wear these, at least in the tunnels.” And he goes to pass
them out.

But Smudge holds up her hand to stop him. “I’ll make sure the air’s good in the tunnels,” she says, “trust me. I’ll have to dim the oxygen lights, though, so we don’t give
ourselves away.”

“No breathers?”
Emerson asks.

“No,” says Smudge. “I promise you they aren’
t necessary.”

“You are very brave children,” Raffai says, with that same sad expression Ms. Ruby had when she told us goodbye. “Be safe, and come
back soon.”

“We will,” I say, but for the first time, as we pile into the trolley and close the door behind us, I let loose my own secret fear with one
screaming thought:

Or maybe we won’t
.

Raffai disappears behind the closing black door, and we’re left in utter darkness. I break into a cold sweat, wipe my face with my sleeve, steady
my breaths.

“Can you turn the lights on in here?” I
ask Smudge.

“Yes, but when we get to the tracks, I’ll have to turn them off again. The light could give us away.” They blink
on overhead.

“I brought this.” Jax holds up a light stick. “I’ll keep it in my pocket if we
need it.”

“That will help, yes,”
Smudge says.

For a few moments, we sit in silent stillness before Vila takes off her knapsack and places it into her lap. Tallulah’s head pops out of the
drawstring hole.

“You’re bringing her?”
I ask.

“Have to. She’s our key to
the key.”

“What
do you—?”

“I trained her to sneak into the Queen’s quarters and steal the
Chamber key.”

“How in the world did you
do
that
?”

“Long story.” She pets Tallulah’s head, then gives her whiskery nose a peck. “Ugh!” Vila yells. “I hate this thing! It feels like we’re just sitting here. It’
s infuriating.”

“I assure you,” Smudge says, “we
are moving.”

“Let’s go over the tactics again, real quick, V,”
says Emerson.

She shrugs. “Follow my lead, stay in the shadows, don’t make a sound, shoot first, and don’t die. I think that about
covers it.”

“Where are we going to stop the trolley?” Aby asks. “We can’t park it at
the station.”

“Once we get to the railway,” Smudge says, “we should get out and walk. It’ll be very close. We should not risk the sound of the trolley on the tracks
at all.”

After an exasperating eternity, the trolley rattles, and we’re spat up through the ground. The lights blink off immediately, followed by a cracking noise and a glow from Jax’s hand as he shakes the
light stick.

“If we were aboveground,” I say, confused, “then why does the trolley car come up
through
the ground?”

“It was the best way to build it.” Smudge stares out the window. “It’s only eleven p.m. We’d be better
off waiting—”

“No,” Vila says. “We go now, and we kill every cannibal bastard in that place, if it comes down to it. Revenge or no revenge. If more of them come to Zentao, we’ll kill them, too.” She’s the first one to
the door.

I laugh, and
Vila scowls.

“What’s so funny?”
she asks.

“Emerson said you’d be the first in line for war,” I tell her. “And here you are. He really knows
you well.”

“I do,” says Emerson, who takes the spear bundle from his back and hands one to Aby. “You know how to use one of these, sister?”

She nods.

Smudge moves up front, near Emerson. “I need to explain something,” she says to us. “It would be highly probable for more guards to be standing watch now, since there’s been a recent escape. I should go first, to stun them, if that’s the case. Then, we’ll have one hour to get Pedro out, before they regain muscle control. We should avoid killing, if possible, to minimize repercussions to Zentao. They’ll know that’s where we’re going, and
seek revenge.”

“Very true,” Mateo says. “Queen Nataniah would certainly get her revenge if we kill any of
her people.”

“Smudge goes first,” I say. “Then Vila, and then the rest of us. We only kill
if necessary.”

“I’ll hold up the rear,” Johnny says, “to make sure no one comes up
from behind.”

“Before we go, though, I’ll need to know how to operate this thing,”
I say.

At this, Johnny gives me a quick lesson. I aim at the back of the trolley, and plant a bolt into the wall. Easy enough. I retrieve my bolt, fumble with it for a second before clicking it back into
its slot.

Vila unlatches the trolley door and slides it open gradually so it doesn’t make a sound. Then, we follow her out onto the tracks, and my heart begins to pump fire
through me.

“There it is,”
Mateo whispers.

“What?” I
whisper back.

“That adrenaline I was
talking about.”

“Yeah, me, too.”

Smudge starts down the tunnel, followed by Vila, then Jax, who holds the light stick high to illuminate our path. Emerson and Aby trail him with their spears, then me and Mateo, and Johnny at the rear. We move quietly through the darkness for what could be half an eternity in Hell before the sound of enclosed space changes. To our right is a wide-open area, which Smudge and Vila move
swiftly through.

I grip the crossbow and try to stay focused, while Vila jiggles her knife in the crevice of a narrow door, which clicks open easily to a steep, rocky staircase. She holds ten fingers in the air, points up, and starts climbing. I think that means ten
flights up.

Nine flights later, our momentum has slowed to a near-crawl. I worry, of course, about Mateo’s climbing, but worrying isn’t going to help. Soon, we stop at a dead end, another door. Vila places a finger to her lips and jabs the knife into the crevice of this door, which pops right open, too. Obviously, not many people are stupid enough to break into this place. Until now. Thank goodness for that; it makes this rescue mission that
much easier.

Vila eases open the door, peeks through the crack. Then, she holds two fingers up to Smudge. Smudge nods, pushes up her sleeves, and steps up to the door. She, too, peeks through, and my heart thumps wildly in my chest as I hold my breath. This is it. Moment
of truth.

Through the crack, Smudge holds up one hand, and a second later, two thuds echo beyond the door. Vila stares at Smudge in amazement, then smiles the widest I’ve ever seen from her, gives Smudge a thumbs-up, and waves us behind her into
the Subterrane.

The second we enter the space, something eerily familiar catches my eye. Past two huge lumps of half-naked guards lying next to giant spears, near a see-through safety railing lined with tiny yellow lights, are two trees. But they aren’t our trees. They’re smaller, made from a shiny silver metal, as opposed to thick gray titanzium. Beyond those, is a circular space, like at Gomorrah, but more massive. Above, levels upon levels go up, and judging by the place’s considerable size, I’d say
quite high.

Smudge moves along the wall through the shadows, and we all follow her lead, ducking down a left-hand passageway as four guards turn down the corridor we were just in. Vila breaks into a jog, and so do we. Another right turn, then another narrow door, which she opens, and we trail her in. More stairs. At the top, we close the door quietly behind us, holding our breath as a low murmur of another pair of guards approaches, then relax as they get softer again, heading away
from us.

We climb two more flights, and before we get to the final door, Vila stops. “This floor is where the Queen’s quarters are,” she whispers. “And this is where we trust Tallulah.” She takes off her knapsack, loosens the drawstring. Tallulah hops into Vila’s arms, twitches her whiskers on her nose. “I’ll get her around the corner from the door; she’ll know what to do
from there.”

“Can’t you just pick the Chamber lock?”
Johnny asks.

“No, it’s a complicated locking mechanism. There’s a special key, and the Queen keeps it hidden in
a jar.”

“I’ll go with you,” Smudge says. “There will be
more guards.”

Vila inspects her for a silent moment. “I think I’
ve decided.”

“Decided
. . .
what?”

“That I like you. You are one
badass chick.”

Smudge grins, looks down at her hands. “Thanks. Same to you, V.”

Vila gives her a gentle slap on the shoulder, then rubs her nose to Tallulah’s again. “You ready, girl?”

Tallulah squeaks
in response.

“We’ll be back in a few minutes,” says Vila. “
Stay here.”

“Where’s the Chamber?”
I ask.

“The floor beneath
this one.”

That’s a relief. This place
is huge.

They slip through the doorway, and I peek through the crack. Smudge and Vila move quickly through the shadows along the wall, then disappear from view. I open the door a little wider and hold my breath. Before an arched doorway with a thick red curtain, three enormous guards stand erect with stone-grinding fists gripping skin-piercing spears. A few feet from them, Smudge and Vila peek around the corner. Then, Vila sets Tallulah down, and I’m amazed to see the animal travel along the wall through the shadows until she reaches the Queen’s quarters. She sticks her furry head beneath the red curtain, then scurries quietly inside, unseen.

Less than one heart-stopping minute later, she’s out again. At first, I think she’s failed her mission, but when Vila kisses her nose, I realize it was a success. I exhale. They sneak back toward us, and my insides spin. Once the Queen discovers her key missing, we’d better be as far away from here with Pedro
as possible.

“Did they get it?”
Jax asks.

“
Think so.”

When they return to the door, I move aside, and they don’t
even stop.

“Come on.” Vila moves swiftly down
the stairs.

At the doorway one floor below us, Vila pauses to catch her breath and let Tallulah crawl back into her knapsack. “Mission accomplished,” she whispers. “Once we get in, we go through to the other entrance by the fountain and keep moving. Smudge, this time you’ll have to stun them. Last time, Mat spiked their liquor with
concentrated Magiope.”

“Can we just get this over with?” Aby shivers. “I hate
it here.”

“Don’t we all,” Vila says. “Don’t we all.” She opens the door, and Smudge ducks in. While Vila watches with intensity, the rest of us try to see over her shoulder into the dark room. A second later, she pushes the door open fully to three guards lying on the ground, and we share a spontaneous moment of celebration, then race to the door. Vila removes something from her pocket, places it in a hollowed-out groove in the door, then twists the design to the left. The Chamber door clicks opens. She lays a finger to her lips, and we enter
the room.

It’s long and narrow, with rows of silken curtains covering what appear to be beds. In the middle sit barrels full of what might
be food.

“I have no idea where he is,” Vila says into
my ear.

We move from bed to bed, passing up ones with obvious females or people way too large to be Pedro. No way he could gain that much weight in less than
three weeks.

“Who the hell are you?” a girl’s
voice demands.

“Your fairy godparents,” Vila says. “Go back to sleep. Or
no wishes.”

Halfway down the room, I spy a handless stump. I wave my arms in the air, then point. Everyone stops. Jax raises his hand, and taps himself on the chest. I nod, and he moves toward the bed, where he covers Pedro’s mouth. He wakes immediately, eyes wide with panic, then sees Jax, and they shift to surprise. They embrace, brothers who were never supposed to see each
other again.

“Quiet, man,” Jax says. “We’ll explain everything once we get out
of here.”

Pedro nods, then sees me, and I tap my crossbow. We mean war. He jumps from his bed, and we rush through the room to the other end, past a fountain and to the
other door.

“Hey!” the girl says. “Where the hell are
you going?”

“The Queen wants a midnight snack, girl,” Emerson says. “
Now hush.”

A rustling says others are waking up from the noise—our cue to get the hell out of here. Vila taps Smudge, and Smudge nods. She opens the door, and Smudge stuns two guards who see us all before they fall to the floor. We hop over them, follow Smudge and Vila around the corner and down a long hallway until we’re back by the Chamber entrance. The guards there haven’
t moved.

Back at the stairwell that leads down and out, I hug Pedro tightly. He lifts me off the ground and kisses my cheek. Then, together, we descend the stairs as quickly and as quietly as we can. In the back of my mind, a small voice tells me it’s too soon to celebrate. But I do anyway. We did it. We are brave, we are strong, we are invincible. We have freed our brother from a horribly wretched, grotesque death. Now, we’re taking him home. We’re taking him
to paradise.