Feral Youth

  “Don’t take it personally.” Sunday laid her hand on Georgia’s, but Georgia pulled it away immediately.

  “I’m not—”

  “She’s just being nice, Georgia,” Cody said.

  Georgia scrambled to her feet. “We should get going. Let’s go.” And then she stormed off the way we’d been walking earlier, leaving Cody and Sunday to gather their things and follow.

  I should have gone after them, too, but I couldn’t help wondering what else I could learn listening in on conversations when no one was looking for me. Jackie and David were discussing their favorite TV shows—Jackie’s, of course, was that werewolves in space show that was full of good-looking twentysomethings who were supposed to be teenagers—and David’s was some online show I’d never heard of. I was thinking Jackie was going to give David a black eye for suggesting her favorite was garbage, but she kept her fists holstered. Jaila and Jenna were discussing how much farther we could walk before nightfall and whether we’d actually make it to camp by the end of the third day. Jenna could do all the calculations in her head, like she was some kind of human calculator. It was amazing. And despite what Tino thought, I had faith that Jaila could get us back to camp on time, even if she was faking the faith she had in herself.

  Truthfully, I didn’t give a shit when we returned to camp. I didn’t have anything there worth going back to, and nothing waiting for me at home when we finally left the Bend. I might have been hungry and filthy and exhausted, but this was the most fun I’d had since my uncle had dropped me off, and I wasn’t ready for it to be over.

  I didn’t hear the yelling at first, but I saw Jaila’s head jerk up, and then I heard what sounded like Cody screaming in a panic. I followed Jenna and Jaila to where the others had all gathered around Georgia. She was bleeding from her head, and her right ankle was bent in a way ankles weren’t meant to bend.

  “She was trying to climb down those rocks and she slipped and I think her foot’s broken and—”

  Georgia was awake and crying about how she couldn’t play soccer with a broken ankle and what was she going to do now, and I couldn’t figure how she was worried about soccer when she was hurt and we were in the middle of nowhere.

  David knelt beside her, stripped off his shirt, and pressed it to the cut on her head. He pulled the makeshift bandage back and poured a little water on it. “It’s not deep,” he said. “Just bleeding a lot.”

  Everyone looked to Jaila for what to do, but she’d gone pale and backed away. Tino growled at how useless we all were and got down on his knees to examine Georgia’s ankle. He untied her boot and peeled off her sock. Her foot was already turning purple and swelling up.”

  “Shouldn’t you leave the boot on?” Jackie asked. “So it acts like a splint or something?”

  “Won’t do any good if her foot swells up inside and cuts off circulation,” Tino said.

  “Here.” Jenna handed Tino a first-aid kit that I hadn’t known she had.

  “Is it broken?” Cody’s face had gone paler than Georgia’s.

  “How the hell should I know?” Tino said. “I’m a delinquent, not a doctor.” But he wrapped her ankle with a roll of gauze to immobilize it the best he could. “She’s not walking anywhere.”

  “I could use the flare,” Jaila said.

  We all turned to look at her. “What flare?” David asked. “You have a flare?”

  Jaila nodded. “Doug gave it to me for emergencies. Told me to use it if anyone got hurt, and they’d come get us.”

  “This is a big fucking emergency,” Cody said. Even with all of us crowding around Georgia, he’d stayed by her side, holding her hand.

  “Shit,” David said. “I would have broken my leg yesterday if I knew we had a way out of this.”

  Everyone was talking over each other, most telling Jaila to use the flare, and I doubted it was because they cared about Georgia.

  “I don’t want to quit,” Georgia said.

  Lucinda, who hadn’t given her opinion yet, said, “I don’t think we have a choice. If you can’t walk, we’ll have to carry you, and I don’t think we’d make it back on time if that were the case.”

  Jaila was already digging around in her backpack. “That settles it, then.” She pulled out the clunky flare gun. “Sorry, Georgia.”

  I knew why I liked being out in the woods, but I didn’t understand why Georgia was crying about going back to the Bend early. Hell, being hurt likely meant Doug would call her parents to come get her. We were all supposed to leave two days after we returned from our survival trip, but she’d get to leave even earlier. Her parents would probably charter a private plane or some rich-person shit to rescue their little girl if that’s what it took.

  Jaila popped the cartridge into the gun, clicked it into place, raised it over her head, and pulled the trigger.

  Nothing.

  She pulled the trigger again.

  Nothing.

  “Shit.” Jaila pulled out the cartridge, replaced it with another, and tried again.

  Tino swiped it from her and opened the compartment where the flare went in, trying to fix it, but it was no use.

  “Figures Dipshit Doug would give us duds,” Jackie said.

  “What’re we going to do?” Cody asked, his voice rising high with panic.

  “We’ll have to make a stretcher,” Jenna said at the same time as Lucinda said, “We’ll carry her.”

  We spent an hour pulling the frames of our packs apart and using the rope we had to strap them together to form a litter to carry Georgia. It wouldn’t have won any awards, but it was sturdy enough to hold her weight. Tino and Jackie got into an argument about who was going to have to carry her, but Lucinda and Cody volunteered almost immediately.

  The mood of our clusterfuck had taken a nosedive. Jaila couldn’t be entirely certain we were walking in the right direction, Georgia was hurt, we were all hungry and thirsty and itching from not having a real shower, our emergency flare gun was useless, and we only had a day and a half to find the Bend. And then it started to rain.

  “I bet Doug gave us bum flares on purpose,” Tino was saying. “Probably thought it’d teach us a lesson about relying on ourselves.”

  “Twenty bucks says he still lives at home with his parents,” David said.

  “I don’t know,” Sunday said. “He’s not so bad.” Even Jackie glared at her for saying that, so she added, “You know, for a middle-aged momma’s boy.”

  Cody started struggling with his end of the litter after only an hour, so Sunday switched out with him. David offered to take Lucinda’s place, but she said she could keep going all day, and I believed her.

  The rain made it even more difficult to find our footing, and it seemed like we were going nowhere fast.

  “Someone please tell another story,” Georgia said.

  David’s face brightened. “I can finish mine.”

  “Hell no,” Jackie said. “I’m depressed enough as it is. But I got one.”

  “JACKIE’S STORY”

  by Justina Ireland

  EVERYONE KNEW THAT there was nothing beyond the Alderus asteroid belt. It was the kind of thing kids learned in their first year at school: how to avoid space sickness and that beyond the Alderus asteroid belt was nothing but Void, an edge of space so dark that nothing could exist beyond that edge.

  It was the perfect place for the Williamson brothers to hide out.

  Sean Williamson piloted his beloved spacecraft through the rocks, swearing anytime one came too close. They’d nearly run out of fuel by the time the ship had reached the rock field, and even though he had a back-up tank of Ore to power the craft, there was no use for it. The goal was to drift through the rock field long enough to confuse the Leviathan ships chasing them. Using all his fuel now would only put the second half of the plan in danger.

  Daniel Williamson, Sean’s younger brother, cleared his throat. “Maybe you should swing her around a little to the left—” A hollow boom echoed through the ship as another bou
lder bumped off the hull.

  “Dammit, Danny! I don’t need your help crashing. I’ve got this all taken care of myself. Why don’t you see if you can raise Cass on the secure channel? Surely she’s heard something by now. And maybe change out of those coveralls while you’re at it.”

  Danny gave his brother one last withering look before moving through the ship to the communications console. They’d been waiting for a ping from Cass on their private channel for days, waiting for the one last piece of information that would help them accomplish their lifelong mission to destroy Dr. Mags, the woman who had torn them from their family and changed them forever into monsters.

  Danny brushed his dark, disheveled hair from his eyes and began searching for Cass’s frequency. Both of the Williamson brothers were incredibly good-looking, but while Danny was tall and rugged, Sean was shorter with spiky blond hair. They didn’t share much beyond their chiseled jaws, steely gazes, and the occasional willing partner. Their temperaments as different as night and day.

  * * *

  “Hey, is this fan fiction? Fan fiction doesn’t count as a real story,” said David.

  Jackie rolled her eyes. “Yes, it does. This is a totally original story that I wrote.”

  She continued.

  * * *

  Danny found Cass after a couple of tries, connecting to her frequency with little trouble. He was the brother that could fix any technical issue. It was Sean who could fly them out of a tight situation, though. However, the asteroid belt was giving even him trouble.

  “Danny! Where are you guys?”

  “Alderus asteroid belt. Outrunning a pack of the Corporation’s Leviathan cruisers. You got any news for us?”

  “I do. Big news. There’s something going down with the Corporation. Can you and Sean meet me on Finicus Prime in two days?”

  Another asteroid scraped across the hull, causing the ship to lurch and Sean to curse loudly. Danny cleared his throat. “That might be difficult, but we’ll do our best.”

  “Great! See you then. Oh, and Danny?”

  “Yeah, Cass?”

  “Tell Sean that we have unfinished business,” Cass said, her voice getting husky. “Of course, you’re welcome to join us as well. I know you’re a fan of teamwork,” she said before signing off.

  Danny signed off as well before yelling to Sean in the front of the ship. “Cass has something. You think you can get us to Finicus Prime in two days?” He didn’t mention Cass’s very welcome invitation. No need to distract Sean any further.

  “Oh, sure! Because it’s not like I don’t already have enough miracles to work,” Sean said.

  Danny took that as a yes and headed to the engine room to make sure that the ship would actually get them there.

  * * *

  Finicus Prime wasn’t the kind of station anyone ended up on by choice. A backwater satellite light-years away from shipping lanes and proper technology, it was the kind of place smugglers and freaks landed to grab supplies or sell hot merchandise or find a quick hookup.

  It was the kind of place the Williamson brothers loved.

  “I’ll have a bacon cheeseburger and a berry pie,” Sean said, leaning back in his chair.

  “Um, tossed salad and vegetable protein loaf, thanks,” Danny told the order droid. The bot trundled off, and Sean snickered.

  “What?” Danny asked.

  “It isn’t alive. You don’t have to be polite.”

  “No one knows exactly how much they know. There’s no reason to be rude,” Danny said.

  Cass slid into an empty chair without a word, laying a clear diskette on the table. “Danny is right. Studies have shown that bots are twenty-three percent more accurate when they’re treated like a person.”

  Sean sighed heavily. “Cass.”

  “Sean. Danny. Story is that the Corporation is up to something new. Something bad. This disk outlines everything I know.” Cass flipped her dark hair over her shoulder and looked around the food counter. “It isn’t looking good, though. There’s something afoot. Something bad.”

  “We got it, Cass. We’ll take care of it,” Sean said just as his food arrived.

  Danny nodded. “It’s what we do.”

  Cass leaned forward, her breasts heaving, nearly escaping the top of her shirt. “So when are you boys going to take care of me?”

  * * *

  “This is literally the plot of a Space Howl episode. I saw this one. They end up going to some planet and stealing a vial they think is the antidote to their werewolf disease, but it’s really a serum to help farmers grow crops on some small planet. They end up giving the serum to the scientist working for the farmers so they can grow crops,” said David.

  “It’s sort of like that, but different,” Jackie said, chewing at a thumbnail until it bled.

  Tino rolled his eyes. “No way she gets to win for something she stole from TV.”

  “Really?”

  Several folks nodded.

  “Okay, fine.” Jackie took her hair down and readjusted her ponytail as she spoke. “So, since no one wants to listen to my Space Howl story here’s another one. This is a story my dad told me when I was a kid. It was always my favorite tale.”

  * * *

  The city?

  The city. Well, it changes you.

  When my brothers and I went there we were just a bunch of kids, fresh-faced and full of dreams. We had no clue how the world worked, and no way we ever thought we’d end up how we did.

  Mostly, I never thought I’d end up like this. Broken and broke, not a penny to my name. I’ve done terrible things. Things I’m not proud of. I’ve hurt people and ruined lives. And I did it all for them.

  My brothers.

  The three of us were all born on the same day. Triplets. Maybe that’s why we were always so close. We were united by blood and a birthdate.

  More on the blood later.

  Phillip was first, and he came into the world squealing at the top of his lungs. Wee, wee, wee. They say he didn’t shut up until our mother put her teat into his mouth.

  Next was Peter, who was so big that our mother labored for over an hour just to push him out. He didn’t say a word as he lay there in the straw, waiting for Ma to tend to him. He just looked around, taking everything in, silent and stupid. More than one man would underestimate him because of his big, lumbering quiet.

  I was last. Paul the Runt, smallest of the litter. I didn’t squeal, and I wasn’t large enough to remark upon. I was completely unmemorable, an afterthought to the birth of my brothers.

  And so it went. The three of us grew up in a small town, and we each gained a peculiar sort of notoriety. Phillip was the talker, the guy who could charm a girl out of her bloomers or a friend out of his pocket money. Peter was big, and those who messed with him quickly discovered that it was a bad idea. And me? I was the thinker. I could sit back and find a solution to any problem. Chances are I could have been a scientist or something else prestigious. Maybe a doctor.

  Maybe. If Peter and Phillip hadn’t been my brothers.

  When we were barely on the cusp of adulthood, Phillip had the bad luck to fool around with a woman who was spoken for. When the husband found out, he came sniffing around the farm, looking for my brother. The cuckold found Peter instead of Phillip, much to the jilted man’s dismay. Peter lay a beating down on him, but the damage had already been done.

  “It’s time you boys got a move on,” my mother said, hauling her girth from one side of the barn to another. “I can’t have you boys fighting and carrying on like that. It draws too much attention. ’Sides, it’s time you boys made your way in the world. It’s unseemly for boys to live with their mama for too long.”

  So we left.

  That night, after tying our meager possessions up into a bindle, we jumped a train to the city.

  * * *

  New Pork was nothing like any place we’d ever been before.

  The city was a terrifying and exhausting place. Cars raced along the streets, horns
honking incessantly. Buses threatened to mow down unwary pedestrians, and there were people everywhere, clogging the sidewalk, flowing in and out of the buildings like a trail of ants to an overturned soda can. And underneath it all was a current of desperation and urgency that made me anxious.

  Phillip, of course, loved it.

  “This is it, boys! This is where we’ll make our mark on the world.” His snout wiggled with excitement. “We will make this city bow to our demands. She’ll be our mistress; she’ll cradle us to her bosom, and we’ll make her scream out our name.”

  I winced at Phillip’s melodramatic speech, but he didn’t notice. He looked around, adjusting his bow tie and cocking his hat at a jaunty angle, the tip of his pug nose wiggling in excitement. Peter said nothing, just stood on the sidewalk and watched as people tried to inch around him.

  I scratched my chin as I considered Phillip’s words. “I dunno, Phil. It doesn’t seem safe here. Maybe we should make a bid for the next town. We aren’t used to city life.” I hated the way my voice sounded: whiny, weak. But I missed our safe, small-town life already. All I wanted was a reasonable facsimile of it, and something told me the city wouldn’t provide that.

  Phillip threw his arm across my shoulders and wheezed a laugh. “Come on, Pauly. Give it a go. I bet you’ll love it in no time.”

  I looked around, and a girl passing caught my eye. She saw me looking, her cheeks pink and round. But she didn’t look away shyly like the girls back home did. She met my stare dead-on, raising her chin a little in defiance.

  I shrugged. “Well, okay. A month. I’ll give it a month.”

  Phillip squeezed my shoulders and gave me a grin. “A month. Sounds like a plan.”

  * * *

  Our first month in the city was miserable.

  We lived in a flat with two other guys, both of them hogs. They drank too much and passed out in the living room, snoring loudly. They frequently left their stuff all over the place and ate all the food in the icebox whether or not it was theirs. It was a terrible place to live, but we didn’t have much choice. It was the only place we could afford.

  Phillip had a job as a waiter in one of them buffet-type places called the Trough, but no one ever left him much in the way of a tip. Peter got work down at the wharf, and although he made a decent wage, most of his paycheck went to cover the shortfall from Phillip and me. As for me . . .