Theia Duology

Chapter 3

"Haul ass, Solskine. It's smokewater time." Theia stands and dusts herself off. Her back complains from bending over rats all day, smashing them on the head and piling their heavy bodies at the end of the row for the cadoyard cats. It helps to do something; to keep her hands busy so her mind doesn't run away with all the horrible things she imagines happening to Mistura in the Beyond. All the things Theia couldn't prevent or might've caused to happen.

Malum told the annies that Mistura had died from internal bleeding. Only Theia knows the truth. But she can't tell anyone just yet. She has to be smart like when she's hunting a rat and needs to strike at the right time. She needs a plan. Needs to convince the others so they'll believe her over their Matta.

Theia looks up into the tree where she can barely make out Solskine's black laced boots, faded black pants, and black shirt rolled up to the elbow. She wants to share what happened with him, but the secret is so big, her fear of not being believed so thick that the words get stuck in her throat. If she could convince him to come, they could both look for Mistura. They could both escape these walls.

"Instead of smokewater and avos, we could just swerve, and take our chances in the Beyond."

"Nah." Solskine whistles a tune of his own making, like a long, slow exhale through a blade of grass.

Theia sees her reflection in the wide strip of metal encasing the base of the tree that prevents the rats and wolf spiders climbing up to the fruit. She tucks her long dark hair behind her small ears.

"I'm makin' quota. What's your rat count?" Solskine looks down, his blond hair falling across his eyes blue as the sky is today.

"Doublin' it."

"Ya know, rats are people too. They have families and feels." Solskine descends the ladder with an arm full of green-skinned orbs.

"Not people. Vermin that can eat you and the avos. I'm savin' you."

"You tell yourself that, little one. Helps you sleep at night." Solskine puts his armload in the woven wooden basket at Theia's feet.

"You'd save 'em and then we'd all be goners."

"Likewise. That's why I'm pickin', not killin'. I couldn't do what needs doin'."

"Ain't like I wanna."

Solskine doesn't answer. He picks up the basket by the handle.

"Critters might even taste good if we were vores instead of veggies." Theia picks up her latest rat victim with both hands by the tail and uses her knees and back to toss the heavy body onto a heap of rat corpses.

"Wish we could eat anythin' but avos." Solskine turns to her and cradles her chin in his dirt-encrusted fingers and stares down his straight nose at her. "Meat would be chewy, not like mushy avos, only the pit hard for chewin'."

"Bet there's more than Durian in the Beyond to eat. Don't you wanna at least see?" Theia asks, her mouth watering.

"Could have only stinky, sweet Durian fruit and be rotted-tooth, pointy-ribbed slaggers. We're lucky to be at Ambrose Avocados." Solskine punches her in the arm, softly like she's one of his trees that he uses his gentle picker hands on.

"Don't be such a puss." Theia can't let fear of the unknown cloud her mind like it does Solskine's. Besides, she knows they are in danger on this side of the wall anyway. Malum can give them away like she did Mistura, one by one in the night as the others sleep.