“That’s right. Bishop and I are going to get the others. You guard the door—don’t let any pigs get near Latu’s body.”
Bishop comes out of the room. He hands me the spear. I take it, then offer it to the twins.
“If the pigs come near you, kill them,” I say. “The spear is long, so you can stay inside the door and stab them from a distance. The doors are narrow enough that they can only enter one at a time. Even if there are a hundred pigs, you should be able to hold them off until Bishop and I return with the others. Then we’re all going to the garden.”
The Garden. That name is as good as any, and it fits.
Girl El-Saffani starts working on Latu’s torch, leaving Boy El-Saffani to take the spear with a trembling hand. He looks at it as if he can’t believe he’s holding it.
“Shouldn’t we all stay together?” he asks.
We should. I know we should. There is strength in numbers. But if we leave Latu, the pigs will eat her up. I won’t let that happen.
“Stay here,” I say, more firmly this time. “When we come back, we will take Latu’s body with us. We’re going to bury her.”
My friend Latu will not wind up as a pile of dusty bones.
Any of these three circle-stars could ignore my commands, but they don’t. They look at me like I’m different. Well, I am different—I am the one who kills.
Girl El-Saffani finishes with Latu’s torch. It flares to life. Torches are always brightest when the fire first starts.
I flip the knife in my hand, offer the hilt to Bishop. He’s stronger and faster, it makes sense for him to have the weapon.
He shakes his head, like he’s not worthy of holding the knife. He is ashamed.
“Then I’ll carry it,” I say. “You take the torch.”
He does.
Bishop and I head down the hall at a fast jog.
We’re going to get our people.
TWENTY-THREE
We rest.
Everything is different.
Bishop and I reached the others with no further problems. We didn’t see any pigs.
O’Malley had kept everyone calm. The second I told them about food and water, they were ready to do whatever I asked.
Then I told them about Latu. I think some of Bishop’s marchers didn’t believe me, didn’t believe that she was dead. That, or maybe they didn’t understand what death really meant.
When we got back to El-Saffani, I wanted to make it clear how dangerous this place is. I made everyone go into the dome room and look at Latu’s body—then they understood death just fine.
While Bishop and I were gone, El-Saffani heard grunting and snuffling out in the darkness, but the pigs didn’t try to enter the dome room. That disappointed me a little; I’d hoped that more of them might be dead.
Bishop took the last flag—the one Bello and Okereke used to hold the greased rags—and rolled Latu’s body in it. He carried her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing.
It seemed to take no time at all to reach the Garden. One by one my people crawled carefully through the scratching tunnel. I told everyone to stay close to the thicket. Bishop must have said something to the circle-stars along the way, or El-Saffani did, because Visca, Farrar, Bawden and Coyotl made sure no one ignored my orders.
As people wandered, ate, stuck their faces in the bubbling spray of water or just gawked at the size of the Garden, I stumbled to the tree where Bishop picked me the blue fruit. I sat down. I haven’t been able to get up since. I don’t want to get up.
Bishop and El-Saffani carried Latu to another tree. They buried her beneath it. They dug the hole with their hands, wouldn’t let anyone else help them.
Aramovsky said a few words, but Latu’s grave is far enough away from the blue fruit tree that I couldn’t quite hear him. I don’t know if his words had meaning, or were just random thoughts, like when Yong died. It doesn’t really matter, though. As Spingate said, the dead don’t care—and neither do I.
I wanted to bury the pig, too, but Spingate and Gaston quickly talked me out of it. They said we need meat as well as fruit. Gaston built a fire. People are cooking the pig. It smells amazing.
Hard to believe I cried when I sliced that stupid animal’s throat. When it’s done cooking, I’m going to eat it, and I’m going to enjoy it.
I want to kill all the pigs. Their squeals and their human-looking eyes won’t ever bother me again. They killed my friend. They will kill more of us if they get the chance. That means to be safe, we have to wipe them out.
If it’s us or them, I choose them.
Spingate brought me water. We don’t have any bowls or glasses, so she soaked a shirt and wrung it out over my mouth. It was cool on my tongue. My throat rejoiced. The more I swallowed, the more my body relaxed.
I hope it was a shirt that didn’t have blood on it.
My eyes are so heavy. I’m not quite asleep, not quite awake. I have never been this tired.
I’m vaguely aware of someone sitting down next to me.
“Em, are you okay?”
It’s O’Malley. I like his voice.