East of the Sun
Heather Marie Adkins
East of the Sun
Heather Marie Adkins
East of the Sun © 2018 Heather Marie Adkins
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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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East of the Sun
What happens when the earth says enough is enough?
I should have died the day I fell off the path and into the poisoned dirt.
The earth’s poison should have seeped into me, instantaneously shutting down my nervous system. We’re told to never leave the paths. Walk only on man-made materials; touch only man-made things.
Otherwise, Danu will claim you in her quest to heal herself.
My best friend died in the toxic dust beside me. His nervous system succumbed instantly. Just like we’re told.
But mine didn’t. I didn’t die. And that’s when everything changed.
Chapter 1
Terra Reed scanned the gunpowder sky with eyes grayer than the ominous storm clouds cresting the horizon. Those heavy, rolling thunderheads meant rain.
And in her world, rain meant death.
“Storm coming, Ro,” Terra said, tapping her best friend’s shoulder with a latex-covered finger.
Rowan Tate reeled in his fishing line. The bright orange bait danced halfway to the shore, then flew through the air as he cast the line again. The bait splashed onto the river’s placid surface with a delicate plop.
“I see them,” Rowan replied without looking at her or the storm clouds.
Terra tamped down the urge to sucker punch his shiny black curls. “Sorry. I forgot you have eyes in the back of your head.”
“And God-like reflexes,” Rowan replied, not missing a beat.
Terra groaned in disgust. “When did you become such a pretentious asshole?”
Rowan saluted her with his middle finger and a charming grin.
Rowan could usually hook a fish just by glancing in the general direction of the water. He had a knack for it, the same as he had a knack for driving Terra mad. But all they had for their efforts were an empty cooler, fading daylight, and lots of exasperation.
Chances were good that the fish just weren’t biting today. The apocalypse hadn’t made fish anymore eager to leap onto the end of hooks than they had been before Danu’s surface turned poisonous.
But an equal chance always remained that Danu had decided to further her twenty-year reign of terror by killing off the animals, too.
Honestly, the latter seemed most likely. Every time they thought the worst had passed, Danu surprised them with mutant bears or new and deadly untreatable viruses.
On her forearm, Terra's living tattoo tingled to life. The warning sent alarm shooting through her. “Ro. We gotta go.”
“Just a few more minutes, Terra. Chill out.”
Terra cringed as her tattoo burned hotter, sharper. “We don’t have a few minutes, numbnuts. Pay attention to your arm.”
Her father had developed the genetically-programmed bacteria tattooed into their skin meant to act as a warning system against Danu's mood swings. Terra liked to think she shared at least half of her father’s intelligence by genetic default, but she still didn’t fully understand how the bacteria worked. All she knew was she called her invisible butterfly tattoo George, and George hadn’t failed her yet.
One wing began to fluoresce, her skin rippling with pale green light. It sensed the impending rain — the coming danger.
Fluorescing was George’s way of saying GTFO or die.
Terra shoved her forearm in Rowan’s face.
He batted her arm away and glanced over his shoulder, his clear green eyes narrowed and nearly hidden by his shaggy black hair. “Shut up, Terra. I’m trying.”
“If my tattoo is awake, so is yours. We have to go.”
Rowan threw his hands in the air. His rod jerked, orange bait leaping wildly, like a fish jumping out of the water. “Jesus, Terra. Two minutes. That’s all I’m asking for. I wanna eat more than boiled kale tonight.”
Terra shuddered. Yet another evening of bland, tasteless plants grown in the hydropods twenty feet below ground. Sustenance without the satisfaction of taste. “While I’m sympathetic, I don’t control the weather, Ro. I don’t particularly feel like dying today. Do you?”
Rowan rolled his eyes, but he picked up his rod and reeled in the line. The feathered bobber skipped across the water towards them, seeming to seethe with irritation.
“Next time, I’m going with Bill,” Rowan griped.
“Liar.” Terra slung her pack over her shoulder. “Don’t be mad that I’m keeping your ass alive yet again.”
Rowan didn’t bother fighting his amused grin. The two had been inseparable since they wore diapers on the plastic floors of the compound. And they’d been hunting partners since they could hold weapons. He could pretend to be irritated all he liked; Terra knew it was just an act.
They were a team.
Rowan blanched as he scanned the tree line where the storm clouds hovered menacingly — already closer than they had been only moments ago. “Moving fast.”
“Danu up to her tricks. And you wanted to keep fishing because you don’t like kale.” Terra gave him her best side-eye.
Rowan wrapped the wet rod in plastic, careful to keep his hands away from the dripping water—even in his thick plastic gloves—then shouldered his bag. “In my defense, it’s the most tasteless shit to come out of the hydro-labs.”
Terra couldn’t argue that. There was a definite line drawn between dietary necessity and comfort food. If it could sustain them with little effort and zero sunlight, it got permanent rotation on the menu.
“Probably chlorella algae tonight. It’s Tuesday.”
Rowan grunted. “Don’t even say those words.”
Terra laughed and punched his arm playfully. “Come on. Let’s go before Danu burns our faces off.”
Terra took the lead, stepping carefully from the pre-fab platform onto the path that would take them home. The path consisted of interlocking rubber tires — the kind that had once carried vehicles around the country, before gasoline became a commodity only the government could enjoy—repurposed to protect them from Danu’s poisonous soil. Terra always felt safer on the path than on the intermittent plastic platforms built throughout the forest. She’d learned every curve, every weakness, every strength in the old rubber. Traversing the paths felt like spending time with an old friend. She found her balance and began the steady, careful jog back to the compound.
“You think the others made it back already?” Rowan asked from behind her as he kept time with her footfalls.
Terra kept her eyes on the tires. “Of course they did. They’re not stubborn to the point of unintentional suicide like someone I know.”
Rowan scoffed. “We have plenty of time.”
Terra lifted her arm to flash George: fluorescent green and bright as a mini sun in the gathering darkness. “George begs to differ.”
“George isn’t always right.”
“Don’t tell my dad that. He’ll ha
ve you drawn and quartered.”
A rumble of thunder shook the forest, and Terra jogged faster. They had cut it close before; life on Danu sometimes felt like one close call after another, especially when your paid task was to hunt for the compound. Despite George’s insistence, she still didn’t feel like they were in danger. Not really.
Not until the first drop fell.
Terra cringed at the sizzle of the rain hitting the grass. Such a vicious, unnatural sound; one she associated with severe pollution, with the weapon humankind had given Danu in her battle to destroy them.
Another drop plopped audibly on the tire in front of her. Shock stilled her feet. She perched on the edge of the aged rubber, staring at the thin curl of smoke as it drifted away on a breeze.
“Fuck!” Rowan dug two fingers into the sensitive space beneath her shoulder blades. “Go, Terra, go!”
Terra snapped out of her surprise and fell into a sprint. She kept her eyes on the path, heart pounding. She had trekked these makeshift paths for years. She knew where the tires had sunk from age and erosion, where the rubber had cracked and compromised the integrity of the path. She could navigate these old doughnuts with ease, without being afraid of falling off the path and into Danu’s poison.
Even so… Running full tilt, her heavy boots thudding against rubber, terrified her. If she slipped and landed on her feet, her thick boots might keep her safe long enough to get back on the path.
But if she slipped and landed in the grass on her hands and knees, death would come instantly. Danu’s poison would attack her central nervous system and that would be it. Lights out. Another statistic in Danu’s war on the human race.
Behind her, Rowan hissed, followed by a string of curse words. Terra didn’t have to ask what had happened, because in the next instant, a cold drop of rain splashed on her cheek.
Terra sucked in a pained breath, astonished at the sheer agony of such a small drop of water. Liquid fire trailed down her cheek. She managed to bite back her own curses, but her eye watered and twitched. She put on another burst of speed, her lungs and arms pumping.
Another drop hit her shoulder, the burn dampened by her thick sweatshirt. The next burned her hand, and then another on her neck, like a hot blade in her skin.
Behind her, Rowan breathed heavily, his breaths punctuated by fucks.
As they rounded a corner in the path, the gaping mouth of the compound opened up before them — a safehaven in the woods. Home. Terra pressed forward, relief giving her a final jolt of energy.
Then the sky let loose.
She lost all sense of the cool evening forest. She passed into a wall of fire, where her skin sloughed off and she forgot how to breathe.
It was her body against Danu’s anger. And Danu always won.
Terra shut her eyes and screamed.
Chapter 2
This is it. I’m dead.
And what irony, too, to die exactly as her mother had died almost twenty-two years before—when Danu began her reign of terror. Her dad would find her right outside the compound when the rain ended: a pile of mangled, unrecognizable flesh.
But just as quickly as the rain came, Terra burst beneath the blessedly cool overhang that marked the entrance to the compound and collapsed to the plastic floor of Ground Bay.
She ripped at her sweatshirt, peeling it and her undershirt off.
Rowan oofed as he fell beside her. He coughed, the sound morphing to pained laughter. “Well. That was close.”
Terra wiggled from her soaked khaki cargos, glad she'd put on clean underwear that morning. She kicked the infected clothes away and went still on the cool plastic floor.
The floor eased the burn in her skin where it touched. She focused on her breathing, on the soothing floor, because if she focused on anything else, all she could feel was debilitating pain.
“You’re alive, Right? No harm, no foul,” Rowan joked.
She opened her eyes to see his wide grin. Tears streamed from his crinkled green eyes. His cheeks and forehead were streaked red-and-white and already swelling from the acid rain.
Terra bared her teeth. “Your face looks like a balloon.”
“We can’t all be as naturally pretty as you.”
Terra snorted. “My face feels like yours looks.”
Rowan faux-pouted. “Your words burn worse than the rain, Terra.”
She rolled away from him so he wouldn't see her smile and pressed her hot face to the floor.
Running footsteps pounded through the stairwell and came to a stop near her head. Terra recognized the duck-taped Timberlands peeking from beneath khaki hems. A hand appeared in her field of vision, offering them both a rain towel — a soft rag dipped in a special aloe developed by her dad’s team.
“When will you learn to listen to those tattoos?” Carter asked in his husky voice.
“I was listening.” Terra swiped a cloth from his fingers and sat up to dab gingerly her face. Rowan did the same beside her. “This guy decided he could beat the rain clouds in a fishing competition.”
Carter hmmd. “I suppose I don’t have to ask who won.”
“Written on our faces, isn’t it?” Terra rolled her eyes. She finally glanced up into Carter’s concerned brown gaze. Her burned neck protested the movement. “Is it bad?”
Carter loomed over her, overly tall and skinny with hands the size of garbage can lids and colorless blond hair shaved close. The industrial ceiling of Ground Bay soared over his head — thick concrete meant to withstand the worst Danu could throw at them.
A muscle twitched in Carter’s cheek. “Could be worse.”
Rowan slapped her on the back, his rain towel dangling around his bare shoulders. He’d stripped his soaked shirt, exposing vicious burns down his chest. “Yeah, Tare. We could be dead!”
Terra grimaced. The pollution-laced rain had soaked into her sweatshirt and T-shirt, all the way to her skin. Stripping to her undies had kept the damage from worsening, but some had already been wrought. Her skin stung where he'd slapped her, so she rubbed her rain towel over her shoulder.
“Ouch.” Carter gazed at her collarbone, his color going paler than usual. His red freckles popped along his cheeks.
Terra gently swiped her chest with the rain towel. Her sports bra felt damp, which meant it needed to come off, too. Preferably in the comfort of her own bunk.
“You wanna be my partner next time?” Terra asked Carter as she climbed to her feet. “The old model is broken and probably gonna get me killed.”
Carter chuckled. “While it would be an honor to go on the hunt with you, we both know it wouldn’t pass with Jack.”
“He’s so far up your ass, I’m not sure where you end and he begins.” Rowan vigorously rubbed the towel over his hair. “You may as well be married.”
Carter shrugged. “He’s my one.”
“So you and Jack made it back,” Terra interrupted before Rowan could tease Carter relentlessly for his puppy dog love. “What about Bill and Nat?”
Carter nodded. “They beat us here. Bagged five ducks.”
“Nice. At least one of us managed to bring something home.” Terra sighed. “Alexis and Freya?”
Carter shook his head. “I haven’t seen either of them. But they were farther away then we were.”
“It came on pretty suddenly. I mean, for people who pay attention to the million-dollar technology inked into their skin.” Terra frowned at Rowan to make her point. “I’m sure they took shelter in a Frig. They’ll get back once the rain stops.” Terra touched her face and hissed. “Worst sunburn ever. Trip to the hospital wing, Ro?”
“Is it a normal day in our lives if we don’t?”
Terra put an arm over his shoulders and squeezed, delighting in his cry of pain. “Not if you have anything to do with it.”
* * *
Nothing happened under the radar at Camp Firma.
With a population of only five hundred people, news traveled fast.
Especially when your father was i
n charge.
Teddy Reed swept back the curtain on the patient room and glared at his daughter.
“You’ll be lucky if I let you leave this compound ever again,” he snapped.
Even for a fairly short man, Teddy was intimidating. He had broad shoulders and a strong jaw, though like most in Firma, he was too thin. His white lab coat flapped like a cape as he stalked into the room.
“I can’t believe… Out of all the irresponsible actions…” His chocolate brown hair shone beneath the overhead light as he opened a new tube of ointment. “Lay down.”
Terra didn’t argue. She flipped around on the table and stared up at the ceiling as her father began to rub ointment on her burns.
“Blame me, Dr. Reed,” Rowan spoke up. “Tare tried to get me to leave a couple minutes earlier and I argued. If I had just listened to her—”
“Can it, Tate,” Dr. Reed grunted. “It’s no secret you get her into half the trouble she gets in to.”
“Jesus, Dad. We don’t get into that much trouble.”
“Yeah. This is only the first time we’ve ever been rained on,” Rowan pointed out brightly.
Dr. Reed pointed his thumb at Rowan as he addressed Terra. “Every time I see this guy, he tells me it’s his fault.”
“To be fair, it usually is,” Rowan added.
Dr. Reed shot him a glare. “You know the tattoos aren’t just for looks, right?”
“I should hope not since they’re invisib…” Rowan trailed off at Terra’s head shake. “Yes, sir.”
Teddy hmmd, his lips twisting into the sharp pressed line Terra recognized as her dad’s sassy face. He narrowed his nearly-black eyes. “You want a tattoo you can see? I’ll give you one. A big black line across your arm that says Listen to the science on your skin.”
Rowan shifted, the table creaking beneath him. He looked suitably chastened as he mumbled, “Yes, sir.”
“And you.” Teddy whirled on Terra. He squeezed a line of ointment on her aching collar bone. “Next time this oaf decides to ignore the tattoos and the rain clouds, you leave him there. I lost your mother. I’m not losing you, too.”
