Fif15teen

  Chapter 10

  Law 64

  Remain Loyal to Your Own Kind

  The morning was bright, hot, and busy. Akeem woke feeling surprisingly better than he had in a long time. His head didn’t hurt and his arm, though stiff, was pain free. For the first time in memory, he opened his eyes without the worry that his mother would be looming over him swinging a frying pan or broomstick. The mere fact that he might never see her again made his heart feel suddenly light. Whatever this place was, it couldn’t be worse than home.

  He sat up and watched boys of every size and shape running back and forth in the early morning sunshine. There was a buzz of excitement in the air that made Akeem want to get up and join them. The boys were cheery and playful, as if they were going on a long-awaited vacation. Akeem was caught up in the feeling when he heard someone moan behind him. The rabbit-faced boy had gone, leaving just him and the boy with the missing fingers. Doc was helping the boy drink something that looked like green slime, and the boy was fighting weakly.

  “Calm yourself. We can’t have those fingers bleeding or I’ll have to cauterize them again, and I really don’t want to do that,” Doc pleaded. The boy stopped struggling and gulped down the brew. He gagged a few times but managed to keep it down. Akeem watched Doc work in silence, amazed by the young boy’s ability.

  “Good morning, wise one,” Doc said when he noticed Akeem watching.

  “Hey, Doc.”

  “Akeem, meet Cruz. Cruz, Akeem.” Doc helped the injured boy into a sitting position. Akeem was surprised to see more cuts on the boy’s back. Doc cleaned the wounds gently then covered them with a soft green moss. Cruz’s face was beaded with sweat and his brown curly hair clung to his neck and face. His arms were lean yet muscular, and his legs and bare feet hung over the bed. Doc dabbed the wounds on Cruz’s chest with something pungent, causing the boy to hiss in pain.

  “Carajo!” he cursed. To Akeem’s surprise he understood the word. It was Quinn’s favorite Spanish curse word. She said it mostly when she was ticked off at something or someone, but she was careful never to say it around Aly. He swallowed hard, his heart suddenly aching with the thought of Aly.

  “What happened?” he managed to ask.

  “Nishi,” Cruz and Doc said simultaneously. Akeem knew that word too, and it ticked him off.

  “She’ll pay for this,” Cruz said, grinding his teeth in anger. He was sweating profusely now and shivering at the same time. Doc lowered him gently and covered him with a threadbare blanket.

  “Sleep now. Let the herbs work, so you’ll be able to make her pay soon,” Doc murmured as Cruz drifted off to sleep. Doc turned to Akeem with his hands on his hips and sighed. “Your turn,” he warned as he removed more herbs from bowls scattered across a rickety table. He removed the bandages from Akeem’s arm and looked at the wound appraisingly.

  “Hey, sorry about last night; kinda freaked out a little,” Akeem said sheepishly, but the thin boy waved the apology away.

  “It is shocking arriving in Fifteen for the first time. It was the same for me once. When Gideon first told me I would be stuck here forever, I vomited on his shoes. He hasn’t cared much for me since,” Doc said. Akeem’s laughter echoed through the camp. Doc’s face lit up, and he chuckled as well. His ever-serious expression transformed into something so jovial it washed away stress lines and even lightened the dark circles under his eyes. Passing boys turned toward the sound of their laughter.

  Akeem liked Doc. He didn’t have many friends, in fact the only two that came to mind were Quinn and Aly, but he wasn’t sure if they were friends or merely soldiers fighting a similar war. Doc was different. Doc had saved his life, and Akeem couldn’t help but respect him for it. Even without the lifesaving factor, Akeem would have liked the kid. He instinctively knew if he met the Hindi boy in any other place, in any other time, they would have become instant friends. Their laughter finally died, and they sat gazing out at the bustling camp in silent camaraderie. Doc offered him something in a cup that steamed and smelled of cow dung. Akeem looked down suspiciously at the cup.

  “Where do you get this stuff?” Akeem said, waving a hand at the herbs and tinctures scattered about.

  “Nearly everything we need can be found in the forest, but even with the help of my medical book, it took years to figure out the effects of all of the plants in there. I experimented on myself mostly. I couldn’t risk anyone else. Once I put myself in a coma for four days; it was a miracle I woke up,” Doc said, and Akeem’s eyes widened as he looked at the suspicious-looking brew again.

  “You’re a cool dude, Doc, but for the record, I’ll never drink anything you offer me again, so don’t even ask.” Akeem elbowed Doc gently in the ribs.

  “You truly are a wise one.” The thin boy laughed again.

  “So what’s going on out there?”

  “They prepare for a raid.”

  “Raid?” Akeem asked.

  “Our supplies are low. We need fruit and vegetables. The Angels grow them in the gardens behind Castle Haven. We must raid soon.”

  “Angels?”

  “Nishi and her lot,” Doc stated.

  “Girls?” Akeem asked with an eyebrow raised.

  “Some would call them that,” Doc said condescendingly.

  “Wouldn’t it be easier to grow stuff yourselves?”

  “Of course, but then the Dogs would have fewer excuses to raid, maim, and kill,” Doc said. Akeem did not miss the bitterness in his voice.

  “So they’re going to raid this Castle Haven place?” Akeem asked, fascinated.

  “The Dogs are eager for revenge. They were finally given permission to strike, but it’ll take a while to put together a plan of attack. It’s been months since we last attacked. The Angels killed six boys then, and we lost one of our best yesterday.”

  Akeem gulped at the thought. “Seven boys are dead?”

  “The last time I heard, killed and dead were synonymous.” Doc chuckled. “If it’s any consolation, they managed to take down eleven girls also.” Doc’s smile faded from his lips.

  “At this rate, we’ll all be wiped out in a year,” Akeem huffed, but Doc shook his head solemnly.

  “New Fifteens come through the cube nearly every week. I remember when it was years between arrivals. But it seems the more we kill, the more arrive. There’s about one hundred and twenty boys and girls here now. It fluctuates, but our population never seems to grow higher than one hundred thirty.”

  “Who sends them here?”

  “We all have different stories of our arrival, but all of them involve the cube.”

  “What about Crazy Annie, did you see her too?”

  “Crazy Annie?” Doc asked, baffled.

  “Freaky-looking old lady? Wears four hats?” Akeem asked, but Doc looked more confused. “She dropped the cube, we picked it up, and the next thing I knew we were here. What about you?”

  “I saw a shiny golden box in a shop window while in Calcutta with my father. The woman that ran the shop told us the golden cube was a puzzle and that I would have to be extra clever to open it. I begged my father for it, and he bought it for me. On my way to school, it opened and brought me here. That is all I know.”

  “Did she have yellow eyes, no teeth?” Akeem asked, making Doc grimace at the description.

  “I recall her being quite beautiful,” Doc stated, scratching his chin. Akeem sighed and looked out at the bustling boys, lost in his own thoughts. He needed to talk to some of them and ask if anyone else knew the old woman. He had a feeling that she was behind all of this. Somehow he had to figure out who she was and how they got here, but first he needed to find Quinn.

  “Doc, do you know if my friend is alive. Quinn—did she make it?” Akeem asked, not sure if he was ready for the answer.

  “Our scouts confirmed that only Isina was killed. She was a deadly warrior, from Africa, I believe.”

  “I’m sorry she’s dead.” Akeem felt guilty for the relief he felt that Quinn was still ali
ve. Doc twitched and looked around nervously.

  “It is unwise to express sympathy for an Angel, Akeem.”

  “Trust me, Quinn is no angel!” Akeem snorted.

  “Still, it would be best for you to forget you ever knew your friend and pray that you never see her again.”

  “What? I can’t do that. Without her—”

  “Hello, Gideon,” Doc interrupted loudly. Akeem recognized the boy from the night before.

  “Thaniel sent me to check the new lad.” Gideon glared at Akeem and spoke in a husky London accent. Akeem disliked him instantly. The boy was dark-skinned like Akeem, but that’s where the similarities ended. Where Akeem was tall and lean, Gideon was short and broad with a barrel chest, bowed legs, and burly arms. His hair was cropped close to his head, and his eyes bulged out of their sockets when he spoke, giving him a froglike appearance.

  “He is improving,” said Doc.

  “When can ’e fight?” Gideon asked without taking his eyes off Akeem. Akeem held his gaze without blinking.

  “Two weeks, perhaps more,” Doc said.

  “Rest times done. Get ’im to Cassell wivin the hour,” the boy said.

  “But he is not ready…”

  “Get ’im there!” Gideon snarled before walking away. Doc flipped an obscene gesture at Gideon’s back before grabbing a cloth bag and slinging it over one shoulder.

  “Come, I need to check a few wounds today anyway. It’ll take some time to get to the camp; I hope you are up to it. Now the real fun begins. It’s time for me to introduce you to the Trapped Forest.” Doc sighed. They left the little shelter and walked into the shaded trees. Akeem stared up in awe at the intricate webbing of unusual tree houses and bridges that spanned the impossibly high treetops.

  “What are they?” Akeem asked.

  “Cruz’s idea. He calls them peapods.”

  “They look like peapods,” stated Akeem, who was impressed.

  Doc sighed. “That boy is an architectural genius. I don’t know how he’ll work with three missing fingers.”

  “How did he learn to do this?” Akeem asked, walking through the trees with his head gazing upward.

  “The ideas come from Cruz’s mind, but he learned to build things from his father; I suppose he was a carpenter. I’ve found that boys tend to learn from their fathers, even when their fathers have no idea they are teaching. What did your father teach you?” Doc asked sincerely. Akeem searched his mind for an answer.

  “Why did you hit that boy, son?” his father had asked, raising Akeem’s chin until their eyes met. Akeem was ashamed and tears streamed down his cheeks.

  “He called me stupid,” he cried, crossing his small arms in anger.

  “Well, you proved him right. A brave man uses his mind to fight the tough battles; a dense man uses his fists. From now on, you will use your mind, are we clear?”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  “He taught me to use my mind, not my fists,” Akeem said absently. To his surprise Doc chuckled bitterly.

  “That bit of advice might work outside the cube, but you won’t last a minute if you follow it here. Come on,” Doc said, pulling Akeem along. “Within this copse are some of our worst dangers.” Doc pointed to a tree with the outline of a hand carved into its wood about midway up. At the foot of the tree a path began and led deeper into the thick forest. “See this symbol? You should only take paths with this symbol nearby. The other paths have symbols too, but ignore them.

  “Where do the other paths go?”

  “Where you don’t want to be,” Doc said seriously. “And always stay to the right side of the path. Always! You may get turned around sometimes, but you will always find your way if you stay to the right of the path. If you must leave the path for any reason, always enter to the right of the path.”

  “Why do I need to stay to the right of the path?” Akeem asked.

  “The Trapped Forest makes the cornfield seem like a day at the beach. There are thousands of booby traps out there—each one more horrible than the last—but the deadliest are in center of the forest,” Doc said as they walked farther into the woods. “Most of the dangers in there were placed long before we arrived. Most of us have no idea what’s out there, so we rarely stray from the path. Thaniel is the only one that dares to venture to the left.”

  “Who’s Thaniel?”

  “You’ll meet him when he’s ready,” Doc said.

  “How did he figure out where all the booby traps are without getting killed?” Akeem asked, looking off into the woods.

  “There was no need for Thaniel to find them, he set them all himself,” Doc said, making Akeem’s eyebrows raise. “On occasion, when a boy has broken one of the simpler laws, Thaniel will make him walk the path to the left.

  “What happens to him?”

  “No one but Thaniel has ever returned from the left, and Thaniel keeps his knowledge to himself. So as I said, stay to the right. Right is right, left is death.” Akeem nodded. While they traipsed along, Akeem admired the odd forest and its eclectic horde of trees. There were trees of varying species, trees that shouldn’t coexist in the same environment but here they were. Mangroves next to jackalberry, birch alongside bonsai. There were redwoods towering over tropical palms and even Pacific red cedar and alder. The birds were unusual too. Some he recognized, but others were multicolored monstrosities that resembled things one might find in a kindergartener’s nightmares.

  As they climbed a small hill on the curvy trail, Akeem spotted the top of a lone wooden cabin through the trees. “What’s that over there?”

  “Do you mean that cabin on the left side of the path? Hmm, perhaps you should see for yourself?” Akeem chuckled at Doc’s attempt at sarcasm.

  “Okay, I get it, stay to the right!” They emerged from the forest onto a barren field surrounded by mud huts. Boys were spread out in groups throughout the clearing. Some were learning to make weapons and traps, some were shooting arrows at straw scarecrows dressed in girls’ clothing, and others were fighting each other with sticks and spears. For a moment, everyone stopped and stared.

  “This is our new arrival, Akeem.” A cheer rose through the crowd. Boys came forward and pounded him on the back or shook his hand. Those who were tall enough ruffled his dreadlocks. All were smiling at him warmly as they crowded around him, asking questions that came too quickly to answer. Akeem had never had such a warm welcome before. No one except Aly had ever seemed genuinely pleased by his arrival, and he couldn’t help grinning. They all seemed small to Akeem, who stood about a half foot above the tallest, yet they looked strong and hardened.

  “All right, back at it, you worthless haggis heads!” A large boy pushed through the crowd and the others scattered back. This boy was nearly as tall as Akeem, with long black hair that hung past his shoulders. The iris of his left eye was white and foggy, but his smile was broad and friendly. He was shirtless and puckered scars crisscrossed his chest and arms. Akeem’s eyes widened when he noticed the boy wore a kilt and boots that laced up to his knees. The boy grabbed Akeem’s hand and pumped it roughly up and down.

  “The name’s MacNab, Cassell MacNab. A true Highlander I am. It’s good to finally get a big lad like you; thank the stars, I’ve been blessed with something more than wee ones. I’d wager there are fewer leprechauns in the whole of Ireland than there are here! If only this lot had pots of gold, they might be worth something,” he boomed loudly. Most of the boys booed and hissed halfheartedly in protest. Akeem could tell it was all in jest. These boys genuinely liked each other, and he could feel the companionship between them. “You’ll be belonging to me now, laddie. I have big plans for ye!” Akeem looked nervously at Doc.

  “Go on. Be wary of his arm, MacNab,” Doc demanded, and the Scot nodded respectfully.

  “Not to worry, I’ll swaddle him like a newborn babe.” The boys around them laughed raucously. “Are ye ready?” MacNab asked encouragingly and wrapped an arm around Akeem’s shoulder.

  “Sure, why not,” A
keem said optimistically.