CHAPTER THIRTY
Soon, we start walking. Olivia seems to be doing better, but the pain in her hand is now full force. Jaxon sets her atop the elephant and stays close by to ensure she doesn’t slide off as we travel. Every few minutes, the girl whimpers in agony. The sound gives me a nervous tic, and I find myself anticipating it, my hands balled at my sides.
As the last of the day disappears behind the sand dunes, I think about what Guy said. That we shouldn’t walk at night because of predators. A chill rushes down my spine — not only because of the plummeting temperature, but from thinking about what might be lurking nearby, invisible in the night. The smell of Olivia’s blood wafting around us can’t be good.
“Are we sure this is a good idea?” Caroline asks. Her voice startles me. It feels too close and too far away at once. It’s been night for all of ten seconds, and already I can hardly see anything.
“We have to find base camp.” It’s Guy’s voice. I’d recognize it anywhere. And I know exactly what he’s implying: that if we don’t find base camp, Olivia may not make it. The poison is mostly gone from her body by now, but she’s clearly still losing blood.
I stop when I hear a scuttling sound nearby. “Did you guys hear that?”
“Oh God,” Caroline moans.
Everyone stops walking, and the sound continues. It doesn’t grow louder, but it doesn’t go away, either. I hear Guy sigh and know he’s contemplating what to do. Something brushes my ankle. I’m seconds from screaming bloody murder until I realize it’s Madox. Crouching down, I run a hand over his sand-filled coat.
“Everyone needs to ask their Pandoras for help,” Guy declares.
Immediately, there’s a chorus of voices as Contenders call out demands. I speak directly to Madox, who ignores me as usual. I still can’t figure out why other Pandoras seem to understand their Contenders and Madox doesn’t. Maybe he just wasn’t built with that skill. Thinking he’s incapable of doing something the others can pains my heart. Not because I want him to be the best for me, though there is that. It’s more that I can’t help but think of him as anything less than perfect.
Before I can reflect more on Madox’s inability to comprehend English, a flash snaps over the area. I shade my eyes for a moment, and when I pull my hand away, I can see everyone in our group and all our Pandoras clearly. When I spot Z-54, my mouth tugs into a smile. Jaxon’s cheetah stands a few feet away, his eyes shooting out twin beams of red light. I survey the area and don’t see anything. Whatever the sound originated from is now gone.
“Wicked cool,” Jaxon breathes, approaching and then petting his Pandora. He looks up at us. “Do you see this? Do you freaking see this? I never knew.”
“Perfect,” Guy says, as if this is the most normal thing in the world. “I just wish we had another set to light our rear as we travel.” Guy looks in my direction. Understanding floods over me.
“Madox doesn’t understand me,” I say quietly. “Or I’d tell him to.”
I wish he could understand me, I think to myself. I wish I could just ask him to listen to Guy and mimic the cheetah, and it’d happen.
Madox chases the beams of red light for a moment, like it’s a game. Then his eyes flick on. They scan the cheetah, and seconds later, my baby fox morphs into a large spotted cat.
“Holy crap.” Jaxon points at Madox, but looks at me. “No way.”
I pull a Guy and shrug like it ain’t no thang. “He does it all the time.”
“He rips off other Pandoras?” Jaxon says. He inspects Madox closer. “He’s like a fugazi.”
“A what?” Harper says.
Jaxon tosses the curly blond hair from his eyes. “A fake.”
“He’s not a fake,” I say. “He’s brilliant.”
“Fugazi,” Olivia croaks from the elephant.
Jaxon nods toward Olivia as if that settles it.
“Does anyone know anything else their Pandoras can do?” Harper says. “If so, spill now. These revelations are taking up way too much time.” Everyone stays quiet, and Harper waves a hand ahead of us. “Let’s roll, then, shall we?”
As Madox heads toward the back, his red-flamed eyes pass over Caroline and Dink. In that small moment, I notice just how terrible the boy really looks. His skin is ashen and coated with sweat, even in the cool air. And his chin touches his chest as if it’s too much to hold up his own head.
I move toward him. “Dink, are you okay?”
“He’s fine,” Caroline snaps, pulling him to her.
“Yeah, he’s clearly not,” I say.
“Tella.” Guy speaks my name in a way that says to drop it, but I’m not about to.
“What?” I tell him. “Why can’t I ask what’s wrong?”
Harper takes two steps toward Dink and then freezes. “Oh God. He’s really sick. Caroline, why didn’t you say something?”
“Everyone needs to leave him alone,” Caroline says in a whisper.
“You mean, leave you alone, right?” Harper cocks a hand on her hip, like she’s ready to go twelve rounds. “You seriously need to —”
“Just shut up!” Caroline screams so loudly, her words seem to echo for miles. Bathed in red light, her shaking body looks almost explosive.
Harper steps backward and holds her hands up. “Okay, sorry. Jeez. Freak out much?”
“Let’s keep moving,” Guy says, interrupting the weirdfest.
Madox, dressed as a cheetah, strides behind us as the real Z-54 takes the front. We move through the desert like this, ignoring what just happened, four beams of red light paving our way. For the first couple of hours, I can’t stop thinking about Dink. Then I start thinking about Cody and the prize. And how if I can make it to base camp first somehow, then I can make my brother healthy again. If only for a few years.
I’m not sure if it’s the lights or the sound of our steps shuffling through the sand, but I never see any predators. Not that I want to make night traveling a habit. Then again, we’ve been walking for an eternity and I don’t feel like a puddle of sweaty filth. So that’s something, I guess.
When we finally stop, Guy and Jaxon gather a few twigs — only enough for a small fire — and M-4 lights them. Then we squat around the flames and warm ourselves. Walking heated our bodies fairly well, but now that we’ve stopped, the perspiration lacing my skin causes me to shake.
Jaxon, Olivia, and Caroline drift off to sleep, even though there’s little time before the sun rises. Even Guy closes his eyes. Maybe he’s asleep, though I like to imagine he’s not. It makes me feel better about the strange way Dink is staring at me.
“Can I do something to make you feel better?” I ask the boy.
He doesn’t answer, just wraps his arms around his legs and sticks his head between his knees. I glance at Harper to see how she’s handling this. From the looks of it, she’s not. She glances everywhere but at Dink, and I realize it’s the most nervous I’ve seen her. I don’t think she knows what’s going on with him, but it certainly makes her uncomfortable.
“Harper,” I whisper. “What do you think we should do?”
Her head snaps in my direction. “How should I know?” she says. “He’s just a kid. Why is he even out here?” She shoots up and walks away into the darkness.
“Harper,” I yell-whisper. “Harper!”
But it doesn’t matter. She keeps moving. I think about waking up Guy and ordering him to do something. But it’s obvious she wants to be alone, so I inch closer to him and keep my eyes trained on the boy. My chest aches as I watch him. I want to do something to help. We’ve been so focused on Olivia ever since the snake, but now I’m wondering if Dink didn’t need our attention just as much. The only thing I know for sure is that we have to get to base camp soon. For both their sakes.