We have food. We have water, probably, but something nags at me. Something is wrong.
I stare at the twins, trying to figure out what it is.
Then it hits me.
“Where’s Latu?”
“Back where she got bit—”
“—she said she was fine—”
“—she told us to come after you.”
My fists clench instantly, so hard my fingernails are daggers punching into my palms.
“You left her?”
The twins look at each other. They are little kids again, kids who suddenly realize they’ve done something bad.
“She wanted us to help you get the pig!”
“Because everyone is so hungry!”
“She has a torch—”
“—with extra rags—”
“—she said we should go!”
They left her, alone and wounded.
I hear an animal grunt. The noise spooks me, makes me look down at the pig to see if it has suddenly come back to life. No, there is no life there, and never will be again.
A second grunt. My eyes flick up at the sound: there, to the left, just past the tall grass in a cluster of trees that are heavy with red fruit.
A pig.
There are more of them?
A second pig head appears.
Then a third.
I feel cold inside, icy and brittle—how many pigs are there?
The third one grunts.
That grunt rolls around my exhausted brain, looks for a connection. Back when we were chasing the pig in the hallways, I heard a grunt like that—a grunt that didn’t come from our quarry.
That trip to the farm, what the man in the funny hat said…more of his words flash through my mind, and when they do, I realize why all those coffins were empty.
“Latu,” I say.
I snatch up the knife from the grass and I sprint for the thicket.
TWENTY-TWO
Sharp branches scratch my face, my arms and my legs, snag in my hair. The pain doesn’t matter. I have to get to her as fast as I can.
I’m through the thicket and in the room on the other side of the wall before I realize I didn’t bring a torch. That doesn’t matter, either—I’m not going back.
I crawl through the hole in the stone door and emerge to total darkness. That awful smell is here, but I barely notice it. Left hand on the wall, right hand holding the knife, I run. The hallway is straight and I was just here; other than pig’s blood, there’s nothing on the floor to trip me up.
Is Latu’s torch still burning? Did El-Saffani leave her enough greased rags? I’m desperate to see the light of that torch, to see her—I want it so bad I try to wish it into existence.
Faster…I must run faster. I try to sprint, but my body simply won’t let me go full speed through the absolute black, as if I might run into something new, something I didn’t see on the way here.
How could the twins have left her alone?
But it’s not El-Saffani’s fault. I left, too, chose to go with Bishop instead of staying with my wounded friend. She was bit, her shoulder all torn up and bleeding…why did I go with him? I wish I could take that decision back.
Without light, there is only sound: my wet, filthy socks slapping against the floor, my fingertips sliding along the wall, my rapid breathing that can’t suck in air fast enough to help my burning lungs and screaming muscles.
Latu will be all right. She has to be. She told me to go, she said she would be fine.
Up ahead, a pinpoint of flickering yellow stands out like the brightest star in the night sky. It’s still far off down the long, straight hall, but I’ve almost reached her.
The light grows brighter, larger. It’s from a torch—a torch lying flat on the floor. Past the torch…is that Latu? Lying on her shoulder, maybe? I can see she’s moving a little and my heart explodes with relief. She could still be in trouble, but if she’s moving she’s not dead.
Almost there. She’s twitching a little. She’s alive.
“Latu! Are you okay?”
At the sound of my voice, she stops moving.
Motion from something by her legs. Something black.
Six round, glistening spots pop into existence, dance in the torchlight.
Eyes.
Pig eyes.
Latu wasn’t moving at all. The pigs were moving her.
No…this can’t be happening. That slice of memory from my trip to the farm becomes clearer. The man in the funny hat was telling us that pigs will eat anything—grass, dirt, bugs, crops, meat, cloth, wood…
…even bone.
That’s why the coffins were empty, and that’s why the pig was in the coffin. It was looking for food.
Newfound strength floods me. I scream with rage and hatred and fury, a scream that would make even Bishop turn and run. I rush at them, at her, at the torch, sprinting and waving my knife in front of me. The pigs scamper away, grunting as they vanish into the darkness.
I reach Latu. I stop.
Tears blur my vision. I shouldn’t have left her. I want that moment back I want it back please let this not be real….
Wishing won’t help, and crying doesn’t fix anything, because reality is what it is.
Latu’s dead face stares up at nothing.
I am standing in a pool of her blood.