The Blade of Shattered Hope
Page 44Part 3
The Fifth Army
Chapter 30
A Bowl of Debris
Sofia lay on her back, staring at the twilight sky of the desert, the deep blue just beginning its fade to purple. No clouds. A throbbing pain pulsed somewhere inside her skull—something had knocked her out. Something had hit her in the head during the chaos right after Tick disappeared.
Tick disappeared!
She forced herself into a sitting position, groaning at the thunder of pain it ignited. She coughed, a dry rasp that hurt her throat. She needed water. Badly. The natural rock formations of Jane’s secret spot still surrounded them, though several chunks had broken off and tumbled to the dusty ground during the earthquake. The tables and screens and computers used by Jane’s people lay scattered and smashed, strewn about like abandoned toys. The air smelled burnt.
Twisting her head around, she searched for signs of her friends. She felt a fleeting moment of panic when she didn’t see them at first, but it quickly vanished when movement under a collapsed table caught her attention. Master George, his nice suit filthy and torn, was wiggling his way out from under the heavy slab of the table. Paul sat a few feet from him, his arms wrapped around his knees, staring into the distance with a blank expression.
“You guys okay?” Sofia asked.
“I’m actually quite surprised.” Master George grunted. He finally freed himself from the confining rubble and stood up, dusting himself off. “She went to all that trouble to kidnap us, and then she simply ran away? Odd.”
Sofia disagreed. “I don’t think it’s that weird. Somehow Tick winked away, or someone took him, whatever. But without him, she didn’t have what she needed anymore. It’s his family she took after all.”
“It’s not even that,” Paul said in a subdued voice, still staring at the rock walls like he’d been hypnotized.
Sofia scooted a little closer to him. “What are you talking about?”
“Look at that.” Paul finally blinked and pointed to the middle of the depression where the black tree—the Blade of Shattered Hope—had been. It was gone, replaced by a small crater. The ground was blackened and charred, some of the desert sand actually glistening where the heat had transformed it to glass. “I think something went wrong with what that freak Jane was trying to do. Really, really wrong. She doesn’t care about us anymore. She ran away to try to fix whatever it is she messed up.”
Sofia stared at the dark scar of a hole and slowly nodded as she thought about what he’d said. Paul was right. The earthquake had been horrible, and all of Jane’s people had run around screaming, falling down, and crawling over each other as they looked for a way to escape. Things had obviously not gone according to plan.
“That certainly sounds reasonable,” Master George said. “What I wouldn’t give to know what exactly happened here today. All that nonsense about dark matter. Perhaps it wasn’t quite rubbish after all.”
“Dark matter,” Paul muttered in disgust; Sofia shared the sentiment. “I don’t give a patooty about any of that stuff right now. All I want is a chance to put my hands around Jane’s neck and squeeze.”
Paul looked at her for the first time since she’d come to, and she couldn’t help but lean back a couple of inches before stopping herself. His eyes were full of fury and hatred. There was no sign of the normally lighthearted, joking Paul.
Sofia felt a deep anger inside of her, too. “Just kidding. I’d like to do that myself.”
Master George walked over to Paul and offered a hand. “All in due time, Master Paul. All in due time. For now, we need to find water—or we won’t live long enough to put our hands around a sandwich, much less Mistress Jane.”
Paul ignored the offer of help, but did stand up, his face still tensed in anger. Sofia pushed herself up as well, and the three of them began searching through the debris. Jane’s people had to have brought plenty of food and water if they planned on being out here for any significant amount of time. It took only a few minutes to find the stash.
Several coolers with bread, meat, fruit, and big, glass bottles of water—most of which had been packed tightly enough that they hadn’t broken in the chaos—had been wedged between a toppled table and some large computer equipment.
Sofia drank half a bottle of water, trickles of the liquid splashing down her cheeks and onto her clothes. Even though the water was warm, she was sure she’d never tasted anything so refreshing in her life.
They didn’t dare eat the meat, but the bread and fruit seemed okay, and soon they were all sitting together in one of the few spots clear of wreckage, enjoying their odd little meal. The sun had sunk even further, the shadows from the towering rocks stretching all the way across the desert bowl. Full darkness would be upon them soon.
Sofia hated the thought of being in the middle of a desert in the Thirteenth Reality at nighttime. “Guys, this is great to eat and rest a little, but what’re we gonna do next? It’ll be totally dark soon.”
Sofia wanted the old Paul back. “You’re real great to have around when things get rough,” she said. “You really know how to look on the bright side.”
Paul shrugged and took a big bite of an apple, wiping the juice on his sleeve.
“There are much worse things than fangen,” Master George said with a doomsday voice.
Sofia stared at him, surprised and curious. He returned her look, his eyes squinting despite the fading light. When he said nothing, she finally asked, “What makes you say that?”
Master George glanced at Paul, then looked away toward the western wall of the bowl, now draped in shadow. “Our spies have learned a lot about Jane’s extracurricular activities these past months. She has a place called the Factory, located in one of the heaviest Chi’karda spots ever discovered. Word is she’s created things far more hideous than her precious fangen. Far worse. More vicious by a long shot.”