“Not bad,” I told her, admiring the simplicity of it.
“It’s better than not bad,” she said, her hands on her hips, rain dripping off loose clumps of hair. I laughed and hugged her, enjoying the feeling of both of us being soaked and not really caring.
“Where are the others?” Leila asked.
“Good question,” Karl said. He drifted toward the tree as if somehow getting closer to the conundrum would help solve it. “Jorge and Vincent were right behind us,” he said. “And Kelvin was supposed to bring up the rear.”
Hearing the worry in Karl’s voice and thinking about Kelvin induced a slight sense of panic in me. I left our makeshift tent and hurried to the tree, entering the fourth opening from the bottom. The lip there was low enough that I could lean into the tunnel, but not so low that the pool of water could reach up to it and leak out over the side. I stuck my head in and peered up the tunnel, which was dappled with light from the regularly spaced openings. Still, it was impossible to see beyond the first fifty feet or so.
I thought I could hear something. Over the patter of rain and the sound of water sliding against itself, a hissing noise seemed to echo throughout the tube—a sound like wet breath being forced between tongue and teeth. Someone was sliding our way.
“Here they come!” I yelled back to the others. Just as I turned around, something arrived in a flash and going at full speed. I barely saw the form before it whizzed by amid a mist of spray, and splashed into the pool beyond. I did see enough to know there weren’t people on the leaf—the shape was much too big for that.
“What the hell?” Karl asked, looking into one of the gaps lower down than mine. I left my spot and joined him.
Floating in the pool of water and spanning all of the last two gaps was one of the smaller vinnies. Dead. The front edge of a leaf had been bent back over its head and tied there by a length of rope.
“Those bastards stopped and went hunting,” Karl said.
Leila poked her head in between us, seeing what the fuss was about. “Gross,” she said, pulling away.
Over the sloshing water at our feet, I heard the hiss of more arrivals. I peered up the tunnel and saw a shape heading our way, but this time accompanied by the chatter and laughter of human passengers.
Jorge, Vincent, and Kelvin arrived on a single leaf, Jorge slowing them with skill before they got to the edge of the pool. They hopped out of the tunnel through the neighboring gap and I ran around to greet Kelvin and give him a soggy embrace.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said, slapping me on the back.
“No problem,” I said. “I might be cold and starving enough to actually try some of the meat. If we can get a fire going, that is.”
Tarsi ran up and took my place in Kelvin’s arms, the two of them squeezing each other tightly. Jorge walked by and slapped me on the shoulder. He smiled slightly at me before moving on, the most affection I’d seen from him since our escape. I chalked it up to post-descent euphoria and tried not to count on it lasting.
Kelvin moved to help the others wrestle the massive creature through one of the holes in the tunnel. They grunted and cursed the soggy weight of the thing.
“Sorry about ruining our water supply,” Kelvin said during a pause in their struggles.
Mindy laughed. “Don’t sweat it. Samson tainted it before you guys did.” She related his embarrassing incident, which put an end to all work as everyone doubled over in fits of laughter.
Everyone, that is, except for Vincent, who stood off to one side, looking up through the dripping veil of gray. When I spotted him, I stopped laughing with the others. I felt miserable taking so much joy out of being alive while all he could think of was Britny.
He turned in place and seemed to search the canopy overhead for something.
I watched him as he silently blinked away the falling rain.
“It’s no use,” Karl said. He set down the machete and wiped the rain off his face. He was the third to attempt a fire, throwing sparks into bombfruit fibers piled up under one of Tarsi’s little tents. He was also the third to give up.
The vinnie had been dragged thirty feet or so across the moss before being roughly cleaned. Somehow—and maybe it was just my growing hunger—but I felt better about the process with the thing having arrived already dead. Even though I knew it had been killed just as violently and quite recently, there was something about it being hidden from me that made the ordeal more palatable. Like someone else could shoulder my shame and bear it for me.
Whatever the reason, we had fresh steaks cut from its body and wrapped in pieces of torn leaf, and I actually had a sliver of desire to eat some. But alas, we had no fire to cook with.
“I say we set off for the mine,” I told the others through my chattering teeth. Tarsi reached her arm around me and rubbed me from shoulder to elbow, trying to help remove the shivers. All of us were cold and wet and gradually realizing how miserable our day and subsequent night would be if we stayed put and it continued to rain.
“We might as well be walking,” Kelvin said. He peered out at the mountains and shielded his eyes from the pestering rain. “Anyone know which way the mine is?”
“Just a little ways around the tree, back in the upward direction and then straight out,” Mindy said casually.
“You saw it on the way down?” Kelvin asked.
“Fourteen times,” she said, pushing her hair off her forehead. She looked at the rest of us. “What? None of you were keeping up?”
“No, but we’re glad you were,” Samson said.
“Is everyone okay for walking, then?” Tarsi asked.
We looked at each other, all of us dripping wet, even those who held scraps of tarp and torn sections of their leaves overhead. Despite the state we were in, shivering and soaked and still coping with the death of a friend, we seemed better off in spirit than we had been a few days ago while working on the rocket. There were unanimous nods and murmurs of assent. I drank from my water pouch and passed it to Tarsi. Jorge walked by, taking the lead, and we began the slow, soggy hike partway around the tree and toward the presumptive colony mine.
After a few hours of hiking, Mindy gave Jorge directions, and we veered away from the base of the tree and toward the mountains. It took a few moments to see what had triggered the change in direction—then I caught a glimpse of a module through the rain. The two vehicles sat nearby, still and lifeless.
Beside me, Kelvin leaned into the rain, holding up the scrap of leaf he’d been using to keep the water off his head. He slapped me on the shoulder and pointed.
“I see it,” I told him.
The chatter picked up in our group, our pace noticeably increasing. I looked up through the falling droplets at the tangle of the underside of the canopy. It was hard to believe we’d recently been so high. Looking ahead where the cover came to an incredible end, it seemed even more amazing that we might soon walk on the ground and yet see sky above. Even if it was still full of clouds.
It was well past lunchtime when we reached the mining site, but not once had anyone suggested we stop to eat. As we left the cover of the canopy, the moss gave way to a tangle of tall grasses and woody shrubs.
The faint line of a muddy road could be seen working its way back toward the trees, presumably toward our distant colony. The grasses grew up around it, giving the path a disused and neglected look. A small area around the module and tractors had been cleared of anything that grew, the packed and trampled soil reminding me of base.
We angled straight for the module, hoping to get inside and out of the rain. Several people further up the line alternated between yelling Mica’s and Peter’s names.