"In answer to your question," Drake said, straightening up, "life is hard down here, but just because we live like animals doesn't mean that we've lost our humanity. There are renegades a lot less accommodating that Elliott or me, who would kill you just for your boots, or keep you alive for — how can I put it? — their own diversions. I snatched Elliott from a similar fate many years ago." He rubbed his chest as if recalling an injury he'd received on the occasion. "I wouldn't want to see that happen to any of you."
"Oh," Will uttered.
Drake sighed, a long, deep sigh. "You and Chester are not like the walking wounded that are usually Banished from the Colony — you've not been maimed or tortured or broken from years of service." He rubbed the palms of his hands together as he continued. "I didn't count on being saddled with the three of you, I admit." He stared into Will's eyes. "But we'll just have to see how your brother shapes up."
As tired as he was, Will caught the implication.
"And you, sonny boy, could be a big liability with the White Necks after your scalp," Drake said with a yawn, his face becoming expressionless as he glanced around the room. "But I need to find out more about what the Styx are up to before we move from the plain. It'll give some breathing space for your brother to get his strength back. And when we get to where we're going, we could certainly do with some extra hands around the place."
Will nodded.
"The fact that you're Sarah Jerome's son and know the ropes Topsoil could be a real asset."
Will nodded again, but then stilled his head as he wondered why this was so important to Drake. "What do you mean?"
"Well, if my instinct is correct, this thing the Styx are working on might have big implications for Topsoilers. And I don't think either of us would just sit by and let them get away with it, would we?" He raised a quizzical eyebrow at Will.
"No way!" Will burst out.
"So, what do you say?" the man asked pointedly.
"Huh?"
"Well, are you in or not? Are you going to join us?"
Will chewed his lip in confusion. He was completely thrown, both by the offer from this formidable man and the suggestion that Cal might not be part of it. What would happen if his brother didn't recover fully? Would Drake just ditch him? And Will wondered what would happen if the Limiters really were out to get him. If it proved too dangerous to have him around, what them? Would Drake simply hand him over? But Will also knew he'd do anything he could to stop the Styx. It would pay them back for Tam's death.
He didn't have any alternative but to accept Drake's invitation. Besides, he, Chester, and Cal were hardly in a position to go it alone, certainly not with the state his brother was in, and not with the Limiters everywhere.
As Drake watched him, waiting for a response, Will knew he shouldn't hesitate — that wouldn't go down well. What else could he do but say yes? At the very least, if he played his cards right, then this man might be the key to finding his father.
"Yes," he said.
They talked some more and then Will was dispatched back to his room, where he found Chester fast asleep on the floor by the bed in which Cal was stretched out.
Will had wanted to say something to Chester, to apologize for being so hasty in dismissing his friend's hunch about Drake and Elliott. But Chester was dead to the world, and there was no way he was going to wake him. Will's fatigue caught up with him, too. He curled up on the unoccupied bed and fell into a dreamless sleep.
25
In the days that followed, Will and Chester looked after Cal, serving him the nondescript food Drake and Elliott provided. All he wanted to do was sleep on the narrow bed, but the boys forced him to exercise. Taking fumbling, clumsy steps as if he couldn't quite feel his feet, he glowered resentfully at them.
His speech became less slurred and the blue hue gradually left his skin. Drake came in every day for updates on his progress, then would whisk one of the others off on reconnaissance expeditions so they could begin to learn the ropes, as he put it.
When Chester was away on one of these outings, Will took the opportunity to have a word with his brother.
"I know you're awake," Will said to Cal, who was lying on the bed, facing the wall. "What do you think of Drake?"
Cal didn't respond.
"I said, what do you think of Drake?"
"Seems OK," Cal mumbled after a while.
"Oh, I think he's better than that," Will said. "He told me there are others in the Deeps that would cut your throat for the clothes on your back. That's if the Limiters didn't get to you first."
"Hmm," Cal grunted, unconvinced.
"I just thought you should know that if you don't stop moping and get yourself back on your feet, Drake's patience might run out."
Cal spun around to face Will, his eyes filled with a sudden fury.
"Is that a threat? Are you threatening me? What's he going to do, send me packing?" He sat up quickly.
"Yes, something like that," Will answered.
"How do you know? You're just saying that."
"No, I'm not," Will answered resolutely. He stood up and started for the door.
"So you'd just let him dump me?" Cal was staring daggers at his brother by this time.
"Oh, Cal," Will groaned, turning around in the doorway. "What can I do if you won't help yourself? You know that Drake's talking of moving on soon. He and Elliott don't live here permanently. And he says he's going to take us with him."
"All of us?" Cal asked.
"That depends. Do you think he wants to look after three of us, especially when one's a real pain?"
Cal swung his legs over the side of the bed and stared nervously at Will.
"Do you mean that?"
Will nodded. "Just thought you should know," he said as he exited the room.
Cal took Will's words to heart and, in the days that followed, was a changed person. He threw himself into an exercise regime, hobbling around on a dark wooden cane that Drake had given him. The left side of Cal's body seemed to be the problem, the arm and leg taking longer to recover than their right-side counterparts.
On one occasion, disturbed by the constant tap-tap of the cane and the abrupt blurting snores of Chester, Will was finding it impossible to sleep. The heat and closeness weren't helping although they had all pretty much acclimatized to it by now. Eventually Will decided it was useless and got up, scratching as he felt lice on his scalp.
"Well done, bro," he called quietly over to Cal, who gave a mumbled "Thanks" in response, continuing his circuit of the room.
"I need some water," Will decided aloud, and headed out into the corridor toward the small storeroom where the bladders were kept. He heard something and drew to a halt. As he stood in the dim half light, Elliott loomed into sight at the far end of the hallway. She was wearing her usual dark jacket and pants and had her rifle in her hands, but hadn't yet covered her head with the shemagh.
"Oh… hello," Will said self-consciously, dressed as he was in just his shorts. He folded his arms protectively across his chest, trying to cover up his lack of clothing.
With an expression of sheer indifference, she looked him coldly up and down. "Trouble sleeping?" she inquired.
"Uh… yeah."
She did a double take at the wound on his shoulder.
"Impressive," she said.
Feeling even more uncomfortable under her scrutiny, he slid his hand over the injury he'd received from the Styx attack dog. The heat of the Deeps made it itch like crazy, and Will couldn't stop himself from scratching.
"Stalker," Will said eventually.
"Looks like it was hungry," she observed.
At a loss for words, Will took his hand away to inspect the red patch of newly healed skin, and nodded mutely.