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slowly. I point to my own upper arm, to where the cut is on her. "Yer bleeding." Nothing.

I sigh and I start to stand. She flinches and scoots back on her butt. I sigh again in an angry way. "I ain't gonna hurt you." I hold up the medipak. "It's medicine. It'll stop the bleeding."

Still nothing. Maybe there ain't nothing in her at all.

"Look," I say and I snap open the medipak. I fumble with one hand and take out an antiseptic pad, tearing away the paper cover with my teeth. I'm probably bleeding from where first Aaron hit me and then the girl, so I take the pad and rub it over my eye and eyebrow. I pull it away and yep, there's blood. I hold the pad out to the girl so she can see it. "See?" I point to my eye. "See? It stops things bleeding."

I take a step forward, just the one. She flinches but not as much. I take another step, then another and then I'm next to her. She keeps looking at the knife.

"I ain't putting it down, so just forget it," I say. I push the pad toward her arm. "Even if it's deep, this stitches it up, okay? I'm trying to help you."

"Todd?" Manchee barks, full of asking marks.

"In a minute," I say. "Look, yer bleeding everywhere, okay? And I can fix it, all right? Just don't get any ideas about any more ruddy sticks."

She's watching. And she's watching. And she's watching. I'm trying to be as calm as I really don't feel. I don't know why I'm helping her, not after she whacked me on the head, but I don't know what to do about anything. Ben said there'd be answers in the swamp and there ain't no answers,

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there's just this girl who's bleeding cuz I cut her even tho she deserved it and if I can stop the bleeding then maybe that's doing something.

I don't know. I don't know what to do, so I just do this.

The girl's still watching me, still breathing heavy. But she ain't running and she ain't flinching and then so you can hardly tell at all she's turning her upper arm toward me a little bit so I can reach the cut.

"Todd ⁴ ?" Manchee barks again.

"Shush," I say, not wanting to scare the girl anymore. Being this close to her silence is like my heart breaking all over the place. I can feel it, like it's pulling me down into a bottomless pit, like it's calling for me to just fall and fall and fall.

But I keep my nerve, I do. I keep it and I press the antiseptic pad on her arm, rubbing the cut, which is pretty deep, till it closes a bit and stops bleeding.

"Ya gotta be careful," I say. "That ain't a permanent heal. You gotta be careful with it till yer body heals the rest, okay?"

And all she does is look at me.

"Okay," I say, to myself as much as anyone cuz now that that's done, what's next?

"Todd?" Manchee barks. "Todd?"

"And no more sticks, all right?" I say to the girl. "No more hitting me."

"Todd?" Manchee again.

"And obviously my name's Todd."

And there, just there, just there in the fading light, is there a little beginning of a start of a smile? Is there?

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"Can you ... ?" I say, looking as deep into her eyes as the pressure in my chest allows. "Can you understand me?"

"Todd," Manchee's barking picks up a notch. I turn to him. "What?"

"Todd! TODD!!!"

And then we can all hear it. Pounding thru the bushes and breaking branches and running footsteps and Noise and Noise and oh, crap, Noise.

"Get up," I say to the girl. "Get up! Now!"

I grab my rucksack and put it on and the girl's looking terrified but in a not-helpful paralyzed way and I shout "Come on!" to her again and I grab her arm, not thinking about the cut now, and I try to lift her to her feet but all of a sudden it's too late and there's a yell and a roar and a sound like whole trees falling down and me and the girl can only turn to look and it's Aaron and he's mad and he's messed up and he's coming right for us.

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8

THE CHOICES OF A KNIFE

HE'S ON US IN THREE STEPS. Before I can even try to run, he's coming at me with his hands out, grabbing my neck, smashing me back against a tree.

"You little FILTH!" he screams and presses his thumbs into my throat. I scrabble at his arms, trying to slash at him with the knife, but my rucksack has fallen and the strap has pinned my arm back against the tree so he can pretty much go on strangling me for as long as it takes.

His face is a nightmare, a horrible thing I'm not gonna stop seeing even if I ever get outta this. The crocs took his left ear and a long strip of flesh with it going right down his left cheek. You can see his teeth through the gash and it's causing his left eye to bulge forward like his head's been caught in mid-explosion. There are other gashes on his chin and neck and his clothes are torn and there's blood practically everywhere and I can even see a croc tooth sticking out of a fleshy tear on his shoulder.

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I'm choking for breath but not getting any at all and you can't believe how much it hurts and the world's gone spinning and my brain's going funny and I have this stupid little thought that Aaron didn't survive the croc attack after all, that he died but he's so pissed off at me that dying didn't stop him from coming here to kill me anyway.

"WHAT ARE YOU SMILING AT?" he screams, little bits of blood and spit and flesh spraying onto my face. He squeezes my neck harder and I can feel myself throwing up but there's nowhere for it to go and I can't breathe and all the lights and colors are flowing together and I'm dying and I'm going to die.

"AAH!" Aaron suddenly jerks back, letting me go. I drop to the ground and throw up all over everywhere and take in a huge gasping breath that makes me cough in a way like I'm never gonna stop. I look up and see Manchee's snout wrapped around Aaron's calf, biting it for all he's worth.

Good dog.

Aaron slams Manchee sideways with an arm, sending him flying into the bushes. I hear a thump and a yelp and a "Todd?"

Aaron whirls around to me again and I just can't stop looking at his face, at the gashes everywhere that no one could have survived, no one, it's not possible.

Maybe he really is dead.

"Where's the sign?" he says, his torn expression changing real quick and looking around in a sudden panic. The sign? The-The girl.

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I look, too. She's gone.

Aaron whirls again, this way, that, and then I see him hearing it the same time I do, hearing the rustle and snap as she runs, hearing the silence as it flows away from us, and without another look at me, he takes off after her and he's gone.

And just like that, I'm alone.

Just like that, like I have nothing to do with anything here.

What a stupid day this has been.

"Todd?" Manchee comes limping outta the bushes.

"I'm okay, buddy," I try to say and get some of it out despite the coughing, even tho it ain't true. "I'm okay."

I try to keep breathing thru the coughs, forehead on the ground, dribbling spit and barf everywhere.

I keep breathing and these thoughts start coming. They come all uninvited, don't they?

Cuz maybe that could be it, couldn't it? Maybe it could be over, simple as that. The girl's obviously what Aaron wants, whatever he means by "the sign," right? The girl's obviously what the town wants, what with all the ruckus over the quiet in my Noise. And so if Aaron can have her and the town can have her, then that could be the end of it, right? They could have what they want and leave me alone and I could go back and everything could be like it was before and, yeah, it would probably be no good for the girl but it might save Ben and Cillian.

It might save me.

I'm just thinking it, all right? The thoughts rush in, that's all.

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Thoughts that this could be over as soon as it started. "Over," Manchee murmurs.

And then I hear the terrible, terrible scream that of course is the girl getting caught and that's the choice made, ain't it?

The next scream comes a second later but I'm already on my feet without even really thinking it, slipping off my rucksack, leaning a bit, coughing still, reaching for more breath, but the knife in my hand and running.

They're easy to follow. Aaron's torn thru the bushes like a bull and his Noise is throwing up a roar and always, always, always there's the silence of the girl, even behind her screams, which somehow makes it even harder to hear. I run as best I can after them, Manchee on my heels, and it ain't more than half a minute before we're there with genius me having no idea what to do now I've got here. Aaron's chased her into a bit of water about ankle-deep and got her back up against a tree. He's got her wrists in his hands but she's fighting him, fighting and kicking for all she's worth, but her face is a thing so scared I can barely get my words out.

"Leave her alone," my voice rasps but no one hears me. Aaron's Noise is blazing so loud I'm not sure he'd hear me even if I yelled. THE HOLY SACRAMENT and THE SIGN FROM GOD and THE PATH OF THE SAINT and pictures of the girl in a church, pictures of the girl drinking the wine and eating the host, pictures of the girl as an angel.

The girl as a sacrifice.

Aaron gets both of her wrists in one of his fists, fumbles

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off the cord belt of his robe, and starts tying her hands together with it. The girl kicks him hard where Manchee bit him and he hits her across the face with the back of his hand.

"Leave her alone," I say again, trying to make my voice louder.

"Alone!" Manchee barks, still limping but still ferocious. What a ruddy good dog.

I step forward. Aaron's back's to me, like he don't even care I'm here, like he don't even think of me as a threat.

"Let her go," I try to shout but it just makes me cough some more. Still nothing, tho. Still nothing from Aaron or anyone.

I'm gonna have to do it. I'm gonna have to do it. Oh man oh man oh man I'm gonna have to do it. I'm gonna have to kill him. I raise the knife. I've raised the knife.

Aaron turns, not even fastlike, just turns like someone's called his name. He sees me standing there, knife in the air, not moving like the goddam coward idiot I am, and he smiles and boy I just can't say how awful a smile looks on that torn-up face.

"Yer Noise reveals you, young Todd," he says, letting go of the girl, who's so tied up and beaten now she don't even try to run. Aaron takes a step toward me.

I take a step back (shut up, please just shut up).

"The Mayor will be disappointed to hear about yer untimely departure from the earthly plain, boy," Aaron says,

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taking another step. I take another step, too, the knife in the air like it's of no use at all.

"But God has no use for a coward," Aaron says, "does he, boy?"

Quick as a snake, his left arm knocks into my right, sending the knife flying out of my hand. He hits me in the face with the flat of his right hand, knocking me back down into the water and I feel his knees land on my chest and his hands pressing down on my throat to finish the job but this time my face is underwater so it's going to be a lot faster.

I struggle but I've lost. I've lost. I had my chance and I've lost and I deserve this and I'm fighting but I'm not nearly as strong as I was before and I can feel the end coming. I can feel me giving up.

I'm lost.

Lost.

And then, in the water, my hand finds a rock. BOOM! I bring it up and hit him on the side of the head before I can think about it. BOOM! I do it again. BOOM! And again.

I feel him slide off me and I lift my head, choking on water and air, but I sit up and raise the rock again to hit him but he's laying down in the water, face half-in, half-out, his teeth smiling up at me thru the gash in his cheek. I scrabble back from him, coughing and spluttering, but he stays there, sinking a little, not moving.

I feel like my throat is broken but I throw up some water and can breathe a little better.

"Todd? Todd? Todd?" Manchee says, coming up to me,

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all licky and barky like a little puppy. I scratch him twixt the ears cuz I can't say nothing yet.

And then we both feel the silence and look up and there's the girl standing over us, her hands still tied.

Holding the knife in her fingers.

I sit frozen for a second and Manchee starts to growl but then I realize. I take a few more breaths and then I reach up and take the knife from her fingers and cut the cord Aaron bound her wrists with. It drops away and she rubs where it was tied, still staring at me, still not saying nothing.

She knows. She knows I couldn't do it.

Goddam you, I think to myself. Goddam you.

She looks at the knife. She looks over at Aaron, lying down in the water.

He's still breathing. He gurgles water with every breath, but he's still breathing.

I grip the knife. The girl looks at me, at the knife, at Aaron, at me again.

Is she telling me? Is she telling me to do it?

He's lying there, undefended, probably eventually drowning.

And I have a knife.

I get to my feet, fall down from dizziness, and get to my feet again. I step toward him. I raise my knife. Again. The girl takes in a breath and I can feel her holding it. Manchee says, "Todd?"

And I have my knife raised over Aaron. One more time, I've got my chance. One more time, I've got my knife raised.

I could do it. No one on New World would blame me. It'd be my right.

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I could just do it.

But a knife ain't just a thing, is it? It's a choice, it's something you do. A knife says yes or no, cut or not, die or don't. A knife takes a decision out of your hand and puts it in the world and it never goes back again.

Aaron's gonna die. His face is ripped, his head is bashed, he's sinking into shallow water without ever waking up. He tried to kill me, he wanted to kill the girl, he's responsible for the ruckus in town, he's gotta be the one who sent the Mayor to the farm and cuz of that he's responsible for Ben and Cillian. He deserves to die. He deserves it.

And I can't bring the knife down to finish the job.

Who am I?

I am Todd Hewitt.

I am the biggest, effing waste of nothing known to man. I can't do it.

Goddam you, I think to myself again.

"Come on," I say to the girl. "We gotta get outta here."

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5

WHEN LUCK AIN 'T WITH YOU

AT FIRST I don't think she's gonna come. There's no reason for her to, no reason for me to ask her, but when I say to her, "Come on," a second time more urgently and gesture with my hand, she follows me, follows Manchee, and that's how it is, that's what we do, who knows if it's right, but that's what we do.

Night's well and truly fallen. The swamp seems even thicker here, as black as anything. We rush on back a ways to get my rucksack and then around and a little bit farther away in the dark to get some distance between us and Aaron's body (please let it be a body). We clamber round trees and over roots, getting deeper into the swamp. When we get to a small clearing where there's a bit of flat land and a break in the trees, I stop us.

I'm still holding the knife. It rests there in my hand, shining at me like blame itself, like the word coward flashing again and again. It catches the light of both moons and

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my God it's a powerful thing. A powerful thing, like I'd have to agree to be a part of it rather than it being a part of me.

I reach behind me and put it in the sheath between my back and the rucksack where at least I won't have to see it.

I take the rucksack off and fish thru it for a flashlight.

"Do you know how to use one of these?" I ask the girl, switching it on and off a coupla times.

She just looks at me, as ever.

"Never mind," I say.

My throat still hurts, my face still hurts, my chest still hurts, my Noise keeps pounding me with visions of bad news, of how good a fight Ben and Cillian managed to put up at the farm, of how long it'll take Mr. Prentiss Jr. to find out where I've gone, of how long it'll take him to be on his way after me, after us (not long at all, if he ain't already), so who ruddy cares if she knows how to use a flashlight. Of course she don't.

I get the book out of the rucksack, using the torch for a light. I open up to the map again and I follow Ben's arrows from our farm down the river and thru the swamp and then outta the swamp as it turns back into river.

It's not hard to find yer way outta the swamp. Out on the horizon beyond it, you can always see three mountains, one close and two farther away but next to each other. The river on Ben's map goes twixt the closer one and the two farther away ones and so all we gotta do is to keep heading toward that space in the middle and we should find the river again and follow it. Follow it to where the arrows keep going.

Keep going to another settlement.

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There it is. Right there at the bottom of the page where the map ends.

A whole other place.

As if I don't have enough new stuff to think about.

I look up at the girl, still staring at me, maybe not even blinking. I shine the flashlight in her face. She winces and turns away.

"Where'd you come from?" I ask. "Is it here?"

I point the flashlight down at the map and put my finger on the other town. The girl don't move so I wave her over. She still don't move so I sigh and pick up the book and take it over to her and shine the flashlight on the page.

"I," I point to myself, "am from here." I point to our farm north of Prentisstown on the map. "This," I say, waving my arms around to show the swamp, "is here." I point at the swamp. "We need to go here." I point at the other town. Ben's written the other town's name underneath, but - well, whatever. "Is this where yer from?" I point to her, point to the other town, point to her again. "Are you from here?"

She looks at the map but other than that, nothing.

I sigh in frustrayshun and step away from her. It's uncomfortable being so close. "Well, I sure hope so," I say, studying the map. "Cuz that's where we're going."

"Todd," Manchee barks. I look up. The girl's started to wander around in circles in the clearing, looking at stuff like it means something to her.

"What're you doing?" I ask.

She looks at me, at the flashlight in my hand and she points thru some trees.

"What?" I say. "We don't have time-"

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She points thru the trees again and starts walking there.

"Hey!" I say. "Hey!"

I guess I have to follow.

"We gotta stick to the map!" I duck under branches to follow her, the rucksack getting caught left and right. "Hey! Wait up!"

I stumble on, Manchee behind me, the flashlight not much good against every ruddy little branch and root and puddle in a great big swamp. I keep having to drop my head and tear the rucksack free of stuff so I can barely look ahead enough to follow her. I see her standing by a fallen, burned-looking tree, waiting for me, watching me come.

"What're you doing?" I say, finally catching up with her. "Where're you--"

And then I see.

The tree is burned, freshly burned and freshly knocked over, too, the unburned splinters clean and white like new wood. And there are a buncha trees just like it, a whole line of 'em, in fact, on either side of a great ditch gouged outta the swamp, now filled with water but piled-up dirt and burned plants all around it show that's it gotta be a new thing, like someone came thru here and dug it up in one fiery swoop.

"What happened?" I swing the flashlight along it. "What did this?"

She just looks off to the left, where the ditch disappears into darkness. I shine the flashlight down that way but it's not strong enough to see what's down there. Tho it feels like something's there.

The girl takes off into the darkness toward whatever it might be.

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"Where're you going?" I ask, not expecting an answer and not getting any. Manchee gets twixt me and the girl, like he's following her now instead of me, and off they go in the dark. I keep my distance but I follow, too. The silence still flows from her, still bothers me, like it's ready to swallow up the whole world and me with it.

I keep the flashlight shining over every possible square inch of water. Crocs don't usually come this far into the swamp but that's only usually, plus there's red snakes that're poisonous and water weasels that bite and it just don't feel like luck is bothering with any of us today so if something can go wrong it's probably gonna.

We're getting closer and I shine the flashlight down to where we're heading and something starts glinting back, something that ain't tree or bush or animal or water.

Something metal. Something big and metal.

"What's that?" I say.

We get closer and at first I think it's just a big fissionbike and I wonder what kind of idiot would try to ride a fission-bike in a swamp cuz you can barely get 'em to work over flattened dirt roads much less water and roots.

But it ain't a fissionbike.

"Hold up."

The girl stops.

Whaddya know? The girl stops. "So you can understand me, then?" But nothing, as ever nothing.

"Well, hold up for a sec," I say cuz a thought's coming. We're still a bit away from it but I keep flicking the flashlight over the metal. And back over the straight line that the

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ditch makes. And over the metal again. And over all the burned stuff on either side of the ditch. And a thought keeps coming.

The girl stops waiting and heads off toward the metal and I follow. We have to go around a big burned log, still lazily smoking in one or two spots, to get to the thing and when we do it's much bigger than the biggest fissionbike and even then it looks like it's only part of an even bigger something than that. It's crumpled and burned in most places and even tho I don't know what it looked like before it crumpled and burned, it's obviously mostly wreckage.

And it's obviously wreckage of a ship.

An airship. Maybe even a spaceship.

"Is this yers?" I ask, shining the flashlight at the girl. She don't say nothing, as usual, but she don't say it in a way that could be agreement. "Did you crash here?"

I shine the flashlight up and down her body, up and down her clothes, which are a bit different than what I'm used to, sure, but not so different that they couldn't have belonged to me once upon a time.

"Where'd you come from?" I say.

But of course she don't say nothing and just looks off to a place farther into the darkness, crosses her arms, and starts heading off there. I don't follow this time. I keep looking at the ship. That's what it's gotta be. I mean, look at it. A lot of it's smashed beyond recognishun but you can still see something that might be a hull, might be an engine, even something that might have been a window.

The first homes in Prentisstown, see, were made from the ships the original settlers landed in. Sure, wood and log

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homes got built after, but Ben says the first thing you do when you land is build immediate shelter and immediate shelter comes from the first supplies to hand. The Church and the gas stayshun back in town are still partly made outta metal hulls and holds and rooms and such. And tho this heap of wreckage is pretty pounded, if you look at it right, it might be an old Prentisstown house that fell right outta the sky. Right outta the sky on fire.

"Todd!" Manchee barks from somewhere outta sight. "Todd!"

I go running round to where the girl disappeared, round the wreckage to a part that seems less smashed up. As I run past, I can even see a door that's been opened out the side of one wall of metal a little way up and there's even a light on inside.

"Todd!" Manchee barks and I shine the flashlight over to where he's barking, standing next to the girl. She's just standing there looking down at something and so I shine the flashlight and see that she's standing by two long piles of clothes.

Which are actually two bodies, ain't they?

I walk over, shining the flashlight down. There's a man, his clothes and body pretty much completely burned away from the chest down. His face has burns, too, but not enough to disguise that he was a man. He has a wound on his forehead that woulda killed him even if the burns hadn't but it don't matter, does it, cuz he's dead either way. Dead and lying here in a swamp.

I swing the flashlight over and he's lying next to a woman, ain't he?

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I hold my breath.

It's the first woman I ever seen in the flesh. And it's the same as the girl. I never seen a woman in real life before but if there was a real-life woman, that's what she'd be.

And dead, too, of course, but nothing as obvious as burns and a gash, not even blood on her clothes so maybe she's busted up on the inside.

But a woman. An actual woman.

I shine the flashlight at the girl. She don't flinch.

"That's yer ma and pa, ain't it?" I ask, my voice low.

The girl don't say nothing but it's gotta be true.

I shine the flashlight over the wreckage and think of the burned ditch behind it and it can only mean one thing. She crashed here with her ma and pa. They died. She lived. And if she came from somewhere else on New World or if she came from somewhere else altogether, don't matter. They died, she lived, and she was here all alone.

And got found by Aaron.

When luck ain't with you, it's against you.

On the ground I see drag marks where the girl musta pulled the bodies out of the crash and brought them here. But the swamp ain't for burying anything but Spackle cuz after two inches of dirt you pretty much just get water and so here they sit. I hate to say it but they do smell, tho in the overall smell of the swamp it ain't as bad as you'd think, so who knows how long she's been here.

The girl looks at me again, not crying, not smiling, just blank as ever. Then she walks past me, walks back along the drag marks, walks to the door I saw open in the side of the wreckage, climbs up, and disappears inside.

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10

FOOD AND FIRE

Hey!" i say, following her over to the wreckage. "We can't be hanging around-"

I get up to the door at the same time she pops out, making me jump back. She waits for me to step outta the way, then climbs down from the door and walks past me, carrying a bag in one hand and a coupla small packets in the other. I look back at the door and stand on tiptoes, trying to peek in. It all looks like a wreck inside, as you'd expect, things tumbled everywhere, lots of busted everything.

"How'd you live thru that?" I ask, turning around.

But she's got herself busy. She's put down the bag and the packs and has taken out what looks like a small, flat green box. She sets it down on a dryish area of ground and piles some sticks on top of it.

I look at her in disbelief. "There ain't time to make a-"

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She presses a button on the side of the box and - whoosh -- we've got ourselves a whole, full-sized, instant campfire.

I just stand there like a fool, my mouth wide open. I want a campfire box.

She looks at me and rubs her arms a little bit and it's only then that I really realize I'm soaking wet and cold and achy all over and that a fire is just about the closest thing to a blessing I can think of.

I look back into the blackness of the swamp, as if I'd be able to see anyone coming. Nothing, of course, but no sounds neither. No one close. Not yet.

I look back at the fire. "Only for a second," I say.

I walk over to the fire and start warming up my hands, keeping my rucksack on. She rips open one of the packs and throws it to me and I stare at it again till she dips her fingers into her own pack, taking out what must be a piece of dried fruit or something and eating it.

She's giving me food. And fire.

Her face still has no kinda expression at all, just blank as a stone as she stands by the fire and eats. I start eating, too. The fruit or whatever are like little shriveled dots but sweet and chewy and I've finished the whole pack in half a minute before I notice Manchee begging.

"Todd?" he says, licking his lips.

"Oh," I say, "sorry."

The girl looks at me, looks at Manchee, then takes out a small handful from her own pack and holds it out to Manchee. When he approaches, she jerks back a little like

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she can't help it and drops the fruit on the ground instead. Manchee don't mind. He gobbles it right up. I nod at her. She don't nod back.

It's full-fledged night now, dark as anything outside our little circle of light. You can only even see stars thru the hole in the treetops made by the crashing ship. I try to think back over the last week if I heard any distant booms from the swamp but anything this far out could've been drowned in the Noise of Prentisstown, I spose, and been missed by everyone.

I think of a certain preacher.

Nearly everyone.

"We can't stay," I say. "I'm sorry about yer folks and all but there's others that'll be after us. Even if Aaron's dead."

At Aaron's name, she flinches, just a little. He must've said his name to her. Or something. Maybe.

"I'm sorry," I say, tho I don't know what for. I shift my rucksack on my back. It feels heavier than ever. "Thanks for the grub but we gotta go." I look at her. "If yer coming?"

The girl looks at me for a second and then uses the tip of her boot to knock the burning sticks off the little green box. She reaches down, presses the button again, and picks up the box without even burning herself.

Man, I really want one of those things.

She puts it in the bag she brought outta the wreckage with her and then brings the strap of the bag over her head, like her own rucksack. Like she was planning on coming with me even before now.

"Well," I say, when all she does is stare at me. "I guess we're ready then."

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Neither of us moves.

I look back to her ma and pa. She does, too, but only for a second. I wanna say something to her, something more, but whaddya say? I open my mouth anyway but she starts rummaging in her bag. I think it's gonna be something to, I don't know, remember her folks with or make some kind of gesture or something but she finds what she's looking for and it's only a flashlight. She flicks it on - so she does know how they work - and starts walking, first toward me, then past me, as if we're already on our way.

And that's it, like her ma and pa ain't just lying there dead.

I watch her go for a second before saying, "Hey!"

She turns back to me.

"Not that way." I point to our left. "That way."

I head off the right way, Manchee following, and I look back and the girl's coming after us. I take one last quick look behind her and as bad as I want to stay and look thru that wreckage for more neat stuff, and boy do I, we gotta go, even tho it's night, even tho nobody's slept, we gotta go.

And so we do, catching sight of the horizon thru the trees when we can and heading toward the space twixt the close mountain and the two farther away mountains. Both moons are more than halfway full and the sky is clear so there's at least a little bit of light to walk by, even under the swamp canopy, even in the dark.

"Keep yer ears open," I say to Manchee.

"For what?" Manchee barks.

"For things that could get us, idiot."

You can't really run in a dark swamp at night so we walk as fast as we can, me shining my flashlight in front of us,

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tripping our way round tree roots and trying not to tromp thru too much mud. Manchee goes ahead and comes back, sniffing round and sometimes barking, but nothing serious. The girl keeps up, never falling behind but never getting too close neither. Which is good, cuz even tho my Noise is about the quietest it's been all day, the silence of her still presses on it whenever she comes too near.

It's weird that she didn't do nothing more about her ma and pa when we left, ain't it? Didn't cry or have one last visit or nothing? Am I wrong? I'd give anything to see Ben and even Cillian again, even if they were ... Well, even if they are.

"Ben," Manchee says, down by my knees.

"I know." I scratch him twixt the ears.

We keep on.

I'd want to bury them, if that's what it came to. I'd want to do something, I don't know what. I stop and look back at the girl but her face is just the same, just the same as ever, and is it cuz she crashed and her parents died? Is it cuz Aaron found her? Is it cuz she's from somewhere else?

Don't she feel nothing? Is she just nothing at all on the inside?

She's looking at me, waiting for me to go on. And so, after a second, I do.

Hours. There's hours of this silent nighttime fast creeping. Hours of it. Who knows how far we're going or if we're heading the right way or what, but hours. Once in a while, I hear the Noise of a nighttime creacher, swamp owls cooing their way to dinner, swooping down on probably short-tailed mice, whose Noise is so quiet it's barely like language at all, but mostly all I hear is the now-and-then fast-fading Noise

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of a nighttime creacher running away from all the ruckus we must be making by tromping thru a swamp at night.

But the weird thing is there's still no sound of nothing behind us, nothing chasing us, no Noise, no branches breaking, nothing. Maybe Ben and Cillian threw them off the trail. Maybe the reason I'm running ain't so important after all. Maybe-

The girl stops to pull her shoe outta some mud.

The girl.

No. They're coming. The only maybe is that maybe they're waiting till daybreak so they can come faster.

So on and on we go, getting more and more tired, stopping only once so that everyone can have a private pee off in the bushes. I get some of Ben's food outta my own rucksack and feed small bits to everyone, since it's my turn.

And then more walking and more walking.

And then there comes an hour just before dawn where there can't be no more.

"We gotta stop," I say, dropping the rucksack at the base of a tree. "We gotta rest."

The girl sets her own bag down by another tree without needing any more convincing and we both just sort of collapse down, leaning on our bags like pillows.

"Five minutes," I say. Manchee curls up by my legs and closes his eyes almost immediately. "Only five minutes," I call over to the girl, who's pulled a little blanket outta her bag to cover herself with. "Don't get too comfortable."

We gotta keep going, no question of that. I'll only close my eyes for a minute or two, just to get a little rest, and then we'll keep on going faster than before.

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Just a little rest, that's all.

I open my eyes and the sun is up. Only a little but ruddy well up.

Crap. We've lost at least an hour, maybe two. And then I realize it's a sound that's woken me. It's Noise.

I panic, thinking of men finding us and I scramble to my feet--

Only to see that it ain't a man.

It's a cassor, towering over me and Manchee and the girl.

Food? says its Noise.

I knew they hadn't left the swamp.

I hear a little gasp from over where the girl's sleeping. Not sleeping no more. The cassor turns to look at her. And then Manchee's up and barking, "Get! Get! Get!" and the cassor's neck swings back our way.

Imagine the biggest bird you ever saw, imagine it got so big that it couldn't even fly no more, we're talking ten or twelve feet tall, a super long bendy neck stretching up way over yer head. It's still got feathers but they look more like fur and the wings ain't good for much except stunning things they're about to eat. But it's the feet you gotta watch out for. Long legs, up to yer chest, with claws at the end that can kill you with one kick if yer not careful.

"Don't worry," I call over to the girl. "They're friendly."

Cuz they are. Or they're sposed to be. They're sposed to eat rodents and only kick if you attack 'em, but if you don't attack 'em, Ben says they're friendly and dopey and'll let you feed 'em. And they're also good to eat, a combo which made the new settlers of Prentisstown so eager to hunt 'em for

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food that by the time I was born there wasn't a cassor to be seen within miles. Yet another thing I only ever saw in a vid or Noise.

The world keeps getting bigger.

"Get! Get!" Manchee barks, running in a circle round the cassor.

"Don't bite it!" I shout at him.

The cassor's neck is swinging around like a vine, following Manchee around like a cat after a bug. Food? its Noise keeps asking.

"Not food," I say, and the big neck swings my way.

Food?

"Not food," I say again. "Just a dog."

Dog? it thinks and starts following Manchee around again, trying to nip him with its beak. The beak ain't a scary thing at all, like being nipped by a goose, but Manchee's having none of it, leaping outta the way and barking, barking, barking.

I laugh at him. It's funny.

And then I hear a little laugh that ain't my own. I look over. The girl is standing by her tree, watching the giant bird chase around my stupid dog, and she's laughing. She's smiling.

She sees me looking and she stops.

Food? I hear and I turn to see the cassor starting to poke its beak into my rucksack.

"Hey!" I shout and start shooing it away.

Food?

"Here." I fish out a small block of cheese wrapped in a cloth that Ben packed.

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The cassor sniffs it, bites it, and gobbles it down, its neck rippling in long waves at it swallows. It snaps its beak a few times like a man might smack his lips after he ate something. But then its neck starts rippling the other way and with a loud hack, up comes the block of cheese flying right back at me, covered in spit but not hardly even crushed, smacking me on the cheek and leaving a trail of slime across my face.

Food? says the cassor and starts slowly walking off into the swamp, as if we're no longer even as interesting as a leaf.

"Get! Get!" Manchee barks after it, but not following. I wipe the slime from my face with my sleeve and I can see the girl smiling at me while I do it.

"Think that's funny, do ya?" I say and she keeps pretending like she's not smiling but she is. She turns away and picks up her bag.

"Yeah," I say, taking charge of things again. "We slept way too long. We gotta go."

We get going on yet more walking without any more words or smiling. Pretty quick, the ground starts to get less even and a bit drier. The trees start to thin out some, letting the sun directly on us now and then. After a little bit, we get to a small clearing, almost like a little field that rises up to a short bluff, standing just over the treetops. We climb it and stop at the top. The girl holds out another pack of that fruity stuff. Breakfast. We eat, still standing.

Looking out over the trees, the way in front of us is clear. The larger mountain is on the horizon and you can see the two smaller mountains in the distance behind a little bit of haze.

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"That's where we're going," I say, pointing. "Or where I think we're sposed to go, anyway."

She sets down her fruit pack and goes into her bag again. She pulls out the sweetest little pair of binocs you've ever seen. My old ones back home that broke years ago were like a breadbox in comparison. She holds them up to her eyes and looks for a bit, then hands 'em to me.

I take 'em and I look out to where we're going. Everything's so clear. The ground stretching out before us in a green forest, curving downhill into proper valleys and dales as it starts to become real land again and not just the mucky bowl of a swamp and you can even see where the marsh starts turning back into a real river, cutting deeper and deeper canyons as it gets closer to the mountains. If you listen, you can even hear it rushing. I look and I look and I don't see no settlement but who knows what's around the bends and curves? Who knows what's up ahead?

I look behind us, back the way we came, but it's still early enough for a mist to be covering most of the swamp, hiding everything, giving nothing away.

"Those're sweet," I say, handing her the binocs. She puts them back in her bag and we stand there for a minute eating.

We stand arm's length apart cuz her silence still bothers me. I chew down on a piece of dried fruit and I wonder what it must be like to have no Noise, to come from a place with no Noise. What does it mean? What kind of place is it? Is it wonderful? Is it terrible?

Say you were standing on a hilltop with someone who had no Noise. Would it be like you were alone there? How would you share it? Would you want to? I mean, here we are,

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the girl and I, heading outta danger and into the unknown and there's no Noise overlapping us, nothing to tell us what the other's thinking. Is that how it's sposed to be?

I finish the fruit and crumple up the packet. She holds out her hand and shoves the rubbish back into her bag. No words, no exchange, just my Noise and a great big nothing from her.

Was this what it was like for my ma and pa when they first landed? Was New World a silent place all over before-I look up at the girl suddenly. Before. Oh, no.

I'm such a fool.

I'm such a stupid goddam fool.

She has no Noise. And she came from a ship. Which means she came from a place with no Noise, obviously, idiot.

Which means she's landed here and hasn't caught the Noise germ yet.

Which means that when she does, it's gonna do what it did to all the other women.

It's gonna kill her.

And I'm looking at her and the sun is shining down on us and her eyes are getting wider and wider as I'm thinking it and it's then I realize something else stupid, something else obvious.

Just cuz I can't hear any Noise from her don't mean she can't hear every word of mine.

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11

THE BOOK OF NO ANSWERS

NO!" I say quickly. "Don't listen! I'm wrong! I'm wrong! It's a mistake! I'm wrong!"

But she's backing away from me, dropping her own empty packet of fruit things, her eyes getting wider.

"No, don't-"

I step toward her but she takes an even quicker step away, her bag dropping to the ground.

"It's-" I say but what do you say? "I'm wrong. I'm wrong. I was thinking of somebody else."

Which is the stupidest thing to say of all cuz she can hear my Noise, can't she? She can see me struggling to think of something to say and even if it's coming out a big mess, she can see herself all over it and besides, I surely know by now there's no taking back something that's been sent out into the world.

Dammit. Goddammit all to hell.

"Dammit!" Manchee barks.

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"Why didn't you SAY you could hear me?" I shout, ignoring that she ain't said a word since I met her.

She steps back farther, putting a hand up to her face to cover her mouth, her eyes sending asking marks at me.

I try to think of something, anything to make it all right, but I ain't got nothing. Just Noise with death and despair all over it.

She turns and runs, back down the hill and away from me as fast as she can. Crap.

"Wait!" I yell, already running after her.

She's going back the way we came, down across the little field and disappearing into the trees, but I'm right behind her, Manchee after me. "Stop!" I shout after her. "Wait!"

But why should she? What kind of reason could she possibly have to wait around?

You know, she's really amazingly fast when she wants to be.

"Manchee!" I call and he understands me and shoots off after her. Not that I could really lose her, any more than she could lose me. As loud as my Noise is chasing her, her silence is just as loud up ahead, even now, even knowing she's going to die, still as silent as a grave.

"Hold on!" I shout, tripping over a root and landing hard on my elbows, which jolts every ache I've got in my body and face, but I have to get up. I have to get up and go after her. "Dammit!"

"Todd!" I hear Manchee bark up ahead, outta sight. I stumble on a bit and get my way round a big mass of shrubs and there she is, sitting on a big flat rock jutting outta the

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ground, her knees up to her chest, rocking back and forth, eyes wide but blank as ever.

"Todd!" Manchee barks again when he sees me, then he hops up on the rock next to her and starts sniffing her.

"Leave her alone, Manchee," I say, but he doesn't. He sniffs close at her face, licks her once or twice, then sits down next to her, leaning into her side as she rocks.

"Look," I say to her, catching my breath and knowing I don't know what to say next. "Look," I say again, but nothing else is coming.

I just stand there panting, not saying nothing, and she sits there rocking till there don't seem nothing else to do but sit down on the rock myself, keeping a distance away outta respect and safety, I guess, and so that's what I do. She rocks and I sit and I wonder what to do.

We pass a good few minutes this way, a good few minutes when we should be moving, the swamp getting on with its day around us.

Till I finally have another thought.

"I might not be right." I say it as soon as I think it. "I could be wrong, you see?" I turn to her and I start talking fast. "I got lied to about everything and you can search my Noise if you want to be sure that's true." I stand, talking faster. "There wasn't sposed to be another settlement. Prentisstown was sposed to be it for the whole stupid planet. But there's the other place on the map! So maybe--"

And I'm thinking and I'm thinking and I'm thinking.

"Maybe the germ was only Prentisstown. And if you ain't been in the town, then maybe yer safe. Maybe yer fine. Cuz

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I sure can't hear nothing from you anything like Noise and you don't seem sick. So maybe yer okay."

She's looking at me and still rocking and I don't know what she's thinking. Maybe probably ain't all that comforting a word when it's maybe yer not dying.

I keep on thinking, letting her see my Noise as free and clear as I can. "Maybe we all caught the germ and, and, and, yeah!" I get another thought, a good one. "Maybe we cut ourselves off so the other settlement wouldn't catch it! That must be it! And so if you stayed in the swamp, then yer safe!"

She stops rocking quite so much, still looking at me, maybe believing me?

But then like some doofus who don't know when to stop, I let that thought go on, don't I? Cuz if it's true that Prentisstown was cut off, then maybe that other settlement ain't gonna be too happy to see me strolling in, are they? Maybe it was the other settlement that did the cutting off in the first place, cuz maybe Prentisstown really was contagious.

And if you can catch the Noise from other people, then the girl can catch it from me, can't she?

"Oh, man," I say, leaning down and putting my hands on my knees, my whole body feeling like it's falling, even tho I'm still standing up. "Oh, man."

The girl hugs herself again on the rock and we're back to even worse than where we started.

This ain't fair. I am telling you this ain't fair at all. You'll know what to do when you get to the swamp, Todd. You'll know what to do. Yeah, thanks very much for that, Ben,

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thanks for all yer help and concern cuz here I am and I ain't got the first clue what to do. It ain't fair. I get kicked outta my home, I get beaten up, the people who say they care for me have been lying all these years, I gotta follow a stupid map to a settlement I never knew about, I gotta somehow read a stupid book-- The book.

I slip off the rucksack and take out the book. He said all the answers were in here, so maybe they really are. Except--

I sigh and open it up. It's all written, all words, all in my ma's handwriting, pages and pages and pages of it and I--

Well, anyway. I go back to the map, to Ben's writing on the other side, the first chance I've had to look at it under something besides a flashlight, which ain't really for reading. Ben's words are lined up at the top. Go to are the first ones, those are definitely the first words, and then there are a coupla longer words that I don't have time to sound out yet and then a coupla big paragraphs that I really don't have time for right now but at the bottom of the page Ben's underlined a group of words together.

I look at the girl, still rocking, and I turn my back to her. I put my finger under the first underlined word.

Let's see. Yow? You, it's gotta be you. You. Okay, me what? M. Moo? Moose? Moosed? You moosed. You moosed? What the hell does that mean? Wuh. Wuh. Warr. Warren? Tuh. Tuhee? Tuheem. You moosed warren tuheem? No, wait, them. It's them. Course it's them, idiot.

But You moosed warren them?

Huh?

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'Member when I said Ben tried to teach me to read? 'Member when I said I wasn't too good at it? Well-Well, whatever. You moosed warren them. Idiot.

I look at the book again, flip thru the pages. Dozens of them, dozens upon dozens, all with more words in every corner, all saying nothing to me at all, no answers of any kind.

Stupid effing book.

I shove the map back inside, slam the cover shut, and throw the book on the ground. You idiot.

"Stupid effing book!" I say, out loud this time, kicking it into some ferns. I turn back to the girl. She's still just rocking back and forth, back and forth, and I know, I know, okay, I know, but it starts to piss me off. Cuz if this is a dead end, I got nothing more to offer and she ain't offering nothing neither.

My Noise starts to crackle.

"I didn't ask for this, you know," I say. She don't even look. "Hey! I'm talking to you!"

But nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

"I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO!" I yell and stand and start stomping around, shouting till my voice scratches. "I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO! I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO!" I turn back to the girl. "I'm SORRY! I'm sorry this happened to you but I don't know what to do about it AND STOP EFFING ROCKING!"

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"Yelling, Todd," Manchee barks.

"Awwghh!" I shout, putting my hands over my face. I take them away and nothing's changed. That's the thing I'm learning about being thrown out on yer own. Nobody does nothing for you. If you don't change it, it don't get changed.

"We gotta keep going," I say, picking up my rucksack all angrylike. "You ain't caught it yet, so maybe just keep yer distance from me and you'll be okay. I don't know but that's all there is so that's what we gotta do."

Rock, rock, rock.

"We can't go back so we gotta go forward and that's that."

Still rocking.

"I KNOW you can HEAR me!" She don't even flinch.

And I'm suddenly tired all over again. "Fine," I sigh. "Fine, whatever, you stay here and rock. Who cares'? Who ruddy cares about anything?"

I look at the book on the ground. Stupid thing. But it's what I got so I reach down, pick it up, put it in the plastic bag, back in my rucksack, and put my rucksack back on.

"C'mon, Manchee."

"Todd?!" he barks, looking twixt me and the girl. "Can't leave, Todd!"

"She can come if she wants," I say, "but--"

I don't even really know what the hut might be. But if she wants to stay here and die all alone? But if she wants to go back and get caught by Mr. Prentiss Jr.? But if she wants to risk catching the Noise from me and dying that way?

What a stupid world.

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"Hey," I say, trying to make my voice a little gentler but my Noise is so raging there's really no point. "You know where we were heading, right? To the river twixt the mountains. Just follow it till you come to a settlement, okay?"

Maybe she's hearing me, maybe she ain't.

"I'll keep an eye out for you," I say. "I understand if you don't wanna get too close but I'll keep an eye out for you."

I stand there for another minute to see if it sinks in.

"Well," I finally say. "Nice knowing ya."

I start walking away. When I get to the big stack of shrubs, I turn back, giving her one more chance. But she ain't changed, just rocking and rocking.

So that's that then. Off I go, Manchee reluctantly on my heels, looking back as much as he can, barking my name all the time. "Todd! Todd! Leaving, Todd? Todd! Can't leave, Todd!" I finally smack him on the rump. "Ow, Todd?"

"I don't know, Manchee, so quit asking."

We make our way back thru the trees to where the ground dries out, to the clearing and up the little bluff where we ate our breakfast and looked at the beautiful day and I had my brilliant deducshun about her death.

The little bluff where her bag still lies on the ground.

"Oh, godd amm it!"

I look at it for a second and it's one thing after another, ain't it? I mean, do I take it back to her? Do I just hope she finds it? Will I put her in danger if I do? Will I put her in danger if I don't?

The sun's fully up now and the sky as blue as fresh meat. I put my hands on my hips and take a long look round like men do when they're thinking. I look at the horizon,

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look back the way we came, the mist mostly burned off by now and the whole swamp forest covered in sunlight. From the top of the bluff, you can see out over it, over where we drove our feet into oblivion by walking it all. If it were clear enough and you had powerful enough binocs you could probably see all the way back to town. Powerful binocs.

I look down at her bag on the ground there.

I'm reaching for it when I think I hear something. Like a whisper. My Noise leaps and I look up to see if the girl's following me out after all. Which would make me more relieved than I want to say.

But it ain't the girl. I hear it again. A whisper. More than one whisper. Like the wind is carrying whispering on it.

"Todd?" Manchee says, sniffing the air.

I squint into the sunlight to look back over the swamp.

Is there something out there?

I grab the girl's bag and look thru it for the binocs. There's all kinds of neat crap in there but I take the binocs out and look thru 'em.

Just swamp is all I see, the tops of swamp trees, little clearings of swampy bits of water, the river eventually starting to form itself again. I take the binocs away from my face and look them over. There are little buttons everywhere and I push a few and realize I can make everything look even closer. I do that a coupla times and I'm sure I can hear whispering now. I'm sure of it.

I find the gash in the swamp, the ditch, find the wreckage of her ship, but there's nothing there except what we left. I look over the top of the binocs, wondering if I see

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movement. I look thru them again, a little nearer to us where some trees are rustling.

But that's only the wind, ain't it?

I scan back and forth, pressing buttons to get closer and farther away, but I keep coming back to those rustling trees. I keep the binocs trained on a kinda open, gully-type thing twixt me and them.

I keep the binocs there.

I keep the binocs watching, my guts twisting as maybe I'm hearing whispering, maybe I ain't. I keep watching.

Till the rustling reaches the clearing and I see the Mayor himself come outta the trees on horseback, leading other men, also on horses.

And they're heading right this way.

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12

THE BRIDGE

THE MAYOR. Not just his son but actually the Mayor. With his clean hat and his clean face and his clean clothes and his shiny boots and his upright pose. We don't never actually get to see him much in Prentisstown, not no more, not if yer not in his close little circle, but when you do, he always looks like this, even thru a pair of binocs. Like he knows how to take care of hisself and you don't.

I push some more buttons till I'm as close as I can get. There's five of 'em, no, six, the men whose Noise you hear doing those freaky exercises in the Mayor's house. i am the circle and the circle is me, that kinda thing. There's Mr. Collins, Mr. MacInerny, Mr. O'Hare, and Mr. Morgan, all on horses, too, itself a rare sight cuz horses are hard to keep alive on New World and the Mayor guards his personal herd with a whole raft of men with guns.

And there's Mr. ruddy Prentiss Jr., riding up next to his father, wearing a shiner from where Cillian hit him. Good.

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But then I realize that means whatever happened at the farm is definitely over with. Whatever happened to Ben and Cillian is done. I put the binocs down for a sec and swallow it away.

I put the binocs back up. The group's stopped for a minute and are talking to each other, looking over a large piece of paper that's gotta be a way better map than mine and-

Oh, man.

Oh, man, you gotta be kidding. Aaron.

Aaron comes walking outta the trees behind 'em.

Stinking, stupid, ruddy effing ruddy Aaron.

Most of his head is wrapped in bandages but he's pacing the ground a little way's back from the Mayor, waving his hands in the air, looking like he's probably preaching even if no one looks like they're listening.

HOW? How could he have lived? Doesn't he ever effing DIE?

It's my fault. My stupid effing fault. Cuz I'm a coward. I'm a weak and stupid coward and cuz of that Aaron's alive and cuz of that he's leading the Mayor thru the ruddy swamp after us. Cuz I didn't kill him, he's coming to kill me.

I feel sick. I bend over double and hold my stomach, moaning a bit. My blood is charging so hard I hear Manchee creep a little ways away from me.

"It's my fault, Manchee," I say. "I did this."

"Your fault," he says, confused and just repeating what I said but right on the money, ain't he?

I make myself look thru the binocs again and I see the

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Mayor call Aaron over. Since men started being able to hear animals' thoughts, Aaron thinks they're unclean and won't go near 'em so it takes the Mayor a coupla tries but eventually Aaron comes tramping over to look at the map. He listens while the Mayor asks him something.

And then he looks up.

Looks up thru the swamp trees and sky.

Looks up to this hilltop.

Looks right at me.

He can't see me. No way. Can he? Not without binocs like the girl's and I don't see any on the men, never saw anything like em in Prentisstown. Gotta be. He can't see me.

But like a great pitiless thing he raises his arm and points, points it directly at me, like I'm sitting across a table from him.

I'm running before I can even think, running back down the bluff and back to the girl as fast as I can, reaching behind me and pulling out my knife, Manchee barking up a storm on my heels. I get into the trees and down and round the big mess of shrubs and she's still sitting on the rock but at least she looks up as I run to her.

"Come on!" I say, grabbing her arm. "We gotta go!"

She pulls back from me but I don't let go.

"No!" I shout. "We have to go! NOW!"

She starts hitting out with her fists, clonking me a coupla times on the face.

But I ain't letting go.

"LISTEN!" I say and I open up my Noise for her. She hits me once more but then she's looking, looking at my Noise as it comes, seeing the pictures of what's waiting for

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us in the swamp. Check that, what's not waiting for us, what's making every effort to come get us. Aaron, who won't die, bending all his thoughts to finding us and coming this time with men on horseback. Who are a lot faster than we are.

The girl's face squishes up, like she's in the worst pain ever and she opens her mouth like she's going to yell but nothing comes out. Still nothing. Still no Noise, no sound, no nothing at all coming from her.

I just don't get it.

"I don't know what's ahead," I say. "I don't know nothing about nothing but whatever it is, it's gotta be better than what's behind. It's gotta be."

And as she hears me, her face changes. It clears up to almost blankness again and she presses her lips together.

"Go! Go! Go!" Manchee barks.

She holds out her hand for her bag. I hand it to her. She stands, shoves the binocs in, loops it over her shoulder and looks me in the eye.

"Okay, then," I say.

And so that's how I set off running full out toward a river for the second time in two days, Manchee with me again and this time a girl on my heels.

Well, past my heels most of the time, she's ruddy fast, she is.

We go back up the hill and down the other side, the last of the swamp really starting to disappear around us and turning into regular woods. The ground gets way firmer and easier to run on and it's sloping more downhill than it is up, which may be the first piece of luck we've had. We start catching the actual river in brief glances off to our left side

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as we go. My rucksack's bashing me in the back as I run and I'm gasping for breath.

But I'm holding my knife.

I swear. I swear right now before God or whatever. If Aaron ever comes in my reach again, I will kill him. I ain't hesitating again. No way. No how. I ain't. I swear to you.

I will kill him.

I'll ruddy well kill him.

You just watch me.

The ground we're running on is getting a bit steeper side to side, taking us thru leafier, lighter trees and first closer to the river and then away from it again as we run. Manchee's tongue is hanging out of his mouth in a big pant, bouncing along as we go. My heart's thumping a million beats and my legs are about to fall off my body but still we run.

We veer close to the water again and I call out, "Wait." The girl, who's got pretty far in front of me, stops. I run to the river's edge, take a swift look round for crocs, then lean down and scoop up a few handfuls of water into my mouth. Tastes sweeter than it really should. Who knows what's in it, coming outta the swamp, but you gotta drink. I feel the girl's silence lean down next to me as she drinks, too. I scoot a little ways away. Manchee laps up his share and you can hear us all taking in great raking breaths between slurps.

I look up to where we're going, wiping my mouth. Next to the river is starting to become too rocky and steep to run on and I can see a path cutting its way up from the river-bank, going along the top of the canyon.

I blink, as I realize.

I can see a path. Someone's cut a path.

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The girl turns and looks. The path goes up and along as the river drops below it, getting deeper and faster and turning into rapids. Someone made that path.

"It's gotta be the way to the other settlement," I say. "Gotta be."

And then, in the distance, we hear hoofbeats. Faint, but on their way.

I don't say another word cuz we're already on our feet and running up the path. The river falls farther and farther away beneath us and the larger mountain rears up on the other side of the river. On our side there's a thick forest starting to stretch back from the clifftops. The path's clearly been cut so men would have a place to travel down the river.

It's more than wide enough for horses. More than wide enough for five or six, in fact.

It ain't a path at all, I realize. It's a road.

We fly along it as it bends and turns, the girl ahead, then me, then Manchee, running along.

Till I nearly bump into her and knock her off the trail.

"What're you doing?!" I shout, grabbing onto her arms to keep us both from falling off the cliff, trying to keep the knife from accidentally killing her.

And then I see what she's seeing.

A bridge, way on up ahead of us. It goes from one cliff edge to the other, crossing the river what's gotta be a hundred feet or more above it. The road or path or whatever stops on our side at the bridge and becomes rock and dense forest beyond. There's nowhere to go but the bridge.

The first shades of an idea start to form.

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The hoofbeats are louder now. I look back and see clouds of dust rising from where the Mayor is following.

"Come on!" I say, running past her, making for the bridge as fast as I can. We pound down the cliff top path, kicking up our own dust, Manchee's ears flattened back, running fast. We get there and it's way more than just a footbridge, six feet wide at least. It looks like mostly rope tied into wooden stakes driven into the rock at either end, with tight wooden planks running all the way to the other side.

I test it with my foot but it's so sturdy it don't even bounce. More than enough to take me and the girl and a dog.

More than enough to take men on horseback who wanted to cross it, in fact.

Whoever built it, meant it to last.

I look back again down the river at where we've run. More dust, louder hoofbeats, and the whispers of men's Noise on its way. I think I hear young Todd but I'm only imagining it cuz Aaron'll be way behind on foot.

But I do see what I wanna see: this bridge is the only place where you can cross the river, from back where we've run to miles farther ahead as you look.

Maybe another piece of luck is coming our way.

"Let's go," I say. We run across and it's so well made you can't even see twixt the gaps in the planks of wood. We might as well still be on the path. We get to the other side and the girl stops and turns to me, no doubt seeing my idea in my Noise, already waiting for me to act.

The knife is still in my hand. Power at the end of my arm.

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Maybe at last I can do some good with it.

I look over where this end of the bridge is tied to the stakes in the rock. The knife has a fearsome serrated edge on part of the blade, so I choose the likeliest looking knot and start sawing on it.

I saw and saw.

The hoofbeats get louder, echoing down the canyon. But if there suddenly ain't no bridge-I saw some more. And some more. And some more.

And I'm just not making no progress at all.

"What the hell?" I say, looking at where I been cutting. There's hardly a scratch there. I touch the serration on the knife with my finger and it pricks and bleeds almost immediately. I look closer at the rope. It looks like it's coated in some kind of thin resin.

Some kind of ruddy tough, steel-like resin that ain't for cutting.

"I don't believe this," I say, looking up at the girl. She's got her binocs to her eyes, looking back the way we came down the river. "Can you see em?"

I look down the river but you don't need binocs at all. You can see 'em coming with yer own two eyes. Small but growing larger and not slowing down, thundering their hooves like there's no tomorrow.

We got three minutes. Maybe four.

Crap.

I start sawing again, fast and strong as I can, forcing my

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arm back and forth hard as I can make it, sweat popping out all over the place and new aches forming to keep all the old ones company. I saw and saw and saw, dripping sweat down my nose onto the knife.

"C'mon, c'mon," I say thru my teeth.

I lift the knife. I've managed to get thru one tiny little bit of resin on one tiny little knot on one huge effing bridge.

"Goddammit!" I spit.

I saw some more and more and more. And more and more than that, sweat running into my eyes and starting to sting.

"Todd!" Manchee barks, his alarm spilling out all over the place.

I saw more. And more.

But the only thing that happens is that the knife catches and I smash my knuckles into the stake, bloodying them.

"GODDAMMIT!" I scream, throwing the knife down. It bounces along, stopping just at the girl's feet. "GODDAMMIT ALL!"

Cuz that's it, ain't it?

That's the end of everything.

Our one stupid chance that wasn't a chance at all.

We can't outrun the horses and we can't cut down a stupid megaroad bridge and we're gonna be caught and Ben and Cillian are dead and we're gonna be killed ourselves and the world is gonna end and that's it.

A redness comes over my Noise, like nothing I ever felt before, sudden and raw, like a red-hot brand pressing into my own self, a burning bright redness of everything that's

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made me hurt and keeps on hurting, a roaring rage of the unfairness and the injustice and the lies.

Of everything coming back to one thing.

I raise my eyes up to the girl's and she steps back from the force of it.

"You," I say and there ain't gonna be no stopping me. "This is all you! If you hadn't shown up in that ruddy swamp, none of this woulda happened! I'd be home RIGHT NOW! I'd be tending my effing sheep and living in my effing house and sleeping in my own EFFING BED!"

Except I don't say "effing."

"But oh NO," I shout, getting louder. "Here's YOU! Here's YOU and yer SILENCE! And the whole world gets SCREWED!"

I don't realize I'm walking toward her till I see her stepping back. But she just looks back at me.

And I don't hear a goddam thing.

"You're NOTHING!" I scream, stepping forward some more. "NOTHING! You're nothing but EMPTINESS! There's nothing in you! You're EMPTY and NOTHING and we're gonna die FOR NOTHING!"

I have my fists clenched so hard my nails are cutting into my palms. I'm so furious, my Noise raging so loud, so red, that I have to raise my fists to her, I have to hit her, I have to beat her, I have to make her ruddy silence STOP before it SWALLOWS ME AND THE WHOLE EFFING WORLD!

I take my fist and punch myself hard in the face.

I do it again, hitting where my eye is swollen from Aaron.

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And a third time, splitting open the cut on my lip from where Aaron hit me yesterday morning.

You fool, you worthless, effing fool.

I do it again, hard enough to knock me off balance. I fall and catch myself on my hands and spit out some blood onto the path.

I look up at the girl, breathing hard.

Nothing. Just looking back at me and nothing.

We both turn to look across the river. They've got to the place where they can see the bridge clearly. See us clearly on the other side. We can see the faces of the men as they ride. Hear the chatter of their Noise as it flies up the river at us. Mr. MacInerny, the Mayor's best horseman, is in the lead, the Mayor riding behind, looking as calm as if it was nothing more than a Sunday ride.

We got maybe a minute, probably less.

I turn back to the girl, trying to stand, but I'm so tired. So, so tired. "We might as well run," I say, spitting out more blood. "We might as well try."

And I see her face change.

Her mouth opens wide, her eyes, too, and suddenly she yanks her bag out in front of her and shoves her hand in it. "What're you doing?" I say.

She takes out the campfire box, looking all around her till she sees a good-sized rock. She sets the box down and raises up the rock.

"No, wait, we could use-"

She brings down the rock and the box cracks. She picks it up and twists it hard, making it crack some more. It starts to leak some kind of fluid. She moves to the bridge and

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starts flinging fluid all over the knots on the closest stake, shaking out the last drops into a puddle at the base.

The riders are coming up to the bridge, coming up, coming up, coming up-

"Hurry!" I say.

The girl turns to me, telling me with her hands to get back. I scrabble back a little ways, grabbing Manchee by his scruff and taking him with me. She steps back as far as she can, holding out the remains of the box at arm's length and pressing a button on it. I hear a clicking sound. She tosses the box in the air and jumps back toward me.

The horses reach the bridge -

The girl lands almost on top of me and we watch as the campfire box falls -Falls -Falls-

Toward the little puddle of liquid, clicking as it goes-

Mr. MacInerny's horse puts a hoof on the bridge to cross it-

The campfire box lands in the puddle-

Clicks one more time-

Then-

WHOOOOMP!!!!

The air is sucked outta my lungs as a fireball WAY bigger than what you'd think for that little amount of fluid makes the world quiet for a second and then-

BOOM!!!!

It blasts away the ropes and the stake, spraying fiery splinters all over us and obliterating all thought, Noise, and sound.

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When we can look up again, the bridge is already so much on fire it's starting to lean to one side and we see Mr. MacInerny's horse rear up and stumble, trying to back up into four or five more oncoming horses.

The flames roar a weird bright green and the sudden heat's incredible, like the worst sunburn ever and I think we're gonna catch fire ourselves when this end of the bridge just falls right away, taking Mr. MacInerny and his horse with it. We sit up and watch them fall and fall and fall into the river below, way too far to ever live thru it. The bridge is still attached at their end and it slaps the facing cliff but it's burning so fierce it won't be no time at all before the whole thing is just ash. The Mayor and Mr. Prentiss Jr. and the others all have to back their horses away from it.

The girl crawls away from me and we lay there a second, just breathing and coughing, trying to stop being dazed.

Holy crap.

"Tall right?" I say to Manchee, still held by my hand. "Fire, Todd!" he barks.

"Yeah," I cough. "Big fire. You all right?" I say to the girl, who's still crouching, still coughing. "Man, what was in that thing?"

But of course she don't say nothing.

"TODD HEWITT!" I hear from across the canyon.

I look up. It's the Mayor, shouting his first words ever to me in person, thru sheets of smoke and heat that make him look all wavy.

"We're not finished, young Todd," he calls, over the crackle of the burning bridge and the roar of the water below. "Not by a long way."

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And he's calm and still ruddy clean and looking like there's no way he's not gonna get what he wants.

I stand up, hold out my arm and give him two fingers but he's already disappearing behind big clouds of smoke.

I cough and spit blood again. "We gotta keep moving," I say, coughing some more. "Maybe they'll turn back, maybe there's no other way across, but we shouldn't wait to find out."

I see the knife in the dust. Shame comes real quick, like a new pain all its own. The things I said. I reach down and pick it up and put it back in its sheath.

The girl's still got her head down, coughing to herself. I pick up her bag and hold it out for her to take.

"Come on," I say. "We can at least get away from the smoke."

She looks up at me.

I look back at her.

My face burns and not from the heat. "I'm sorry." I look away from her, from her eyes and face, blank and quiet as ever. I turn back up the path. "Viola," I hear. I spin around, look at her. "What?" I say. She's looking back at me. She's opening her mouth. She's talking.

"My name," she says. "It's Viola."

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PART III

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13

ACROSS THE BRIDGE

I DON'T SAY NOTHING to this for a minute. Neither does she. The fire burns, the smoke rises, Manchee's tongue hangs out in a stunned pant, till finally I say, "Viola."

She nods.

"Viola," I say again.

She don't nod this time.

"I'm Todd," I say.

"I know," she says.

She's not quite meeting my eye.

"So you can talk then?" I say, but all she does is look at me again quickly and then away. I turn to the still burning bridge, to the smoke turning into a fog bank twixt us and the other side of the river, which I don't know if it makes me feel safer or not, if not seeing the Mayor and his men is better than seeing them. "That was-" I start to say, but she's getting up and holding out her hand for her bag.

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I realize I'm still holding it. I hand it to her and she takes it.

"We should go on," she says. "Away from here."

Her accent's funny, different from mine, different from anyone in Prentisstown's. Her lips make different kinds of outlines for the letters, like they're swooping down on them from above, pushing them into shape, telling them what to say. In Prentisstown, everyone talks like they're sneaking up on their words, ready to club them from behind.

Manchee's just in awe of her. "Away," he says lowly, staring up at her like she's made of food.

There's this moment now where it feels like I could start asking her stuff, like now that she's talking, I could just hit her with every asking I can think of about who she is, where she's from, what happened, and them askings are all over my Noise, flying at her like pellets, but there's so much stuff wanting to come outta my mouth that nothing is and so my mouth don't move and she's holding her bag over her shoulder and looking at the ground and then she's walking past me, past Manchee, on up the trail.

"Hey," I say.

She stops and turns back. "Wait for me," I say.

I pick up my rucksack, hooking it back over my shoulders. I press my hand against the knife in its sheath against my lower back. I make the rucksack comfortable with a shrug, say "C'mon, Manchee," and off we go up the trail, following the girl.

On this side of the river the path makes a slow turn away from the cliff side, heading into what looks like a landscape

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of scrub and brush, making its way around and away from the larger mountain, looming up at us on the left.

At the place where the trail turns, we both stop and look back without saying that we're gonna. The bridge is still burning like you wouldn't believe, hanging on the opposite cliff like a waterfall on fire, flames having leaped up the entire length of it, angry and greenish yellow. The smoke's so thick, it's still impossible to tell what the Mayor and his men are doing, have done, if they're gone or waiting or what. There could be a whisper of Noise coming thru but there could also not be a whisper of Noise, what with the fire blazing and the wood popping and the white water below. As we watch, the fire finishes its business on the stakes on the other side of the river and with a great snap, the burning bridge falls, falls, falls, clattering against the cliff side, splashing into the river, sending up more clouds of smoke and steam, making everything even foggier.

"What was in that box?" I say to the girl.

She looks at me, opens her mouth, but then closes it again, turning away.

"It's okay," I say. "I'm not gonna hurt ya."

She looks at me again and my Noise is full of just a few minutes ago when I was just about to hurt her, when I was just about to--

Anyway.

We don't say no more. She turns back onto the path and me and Manchee follow her into the scrub.

Knowing she can speak don't help with the silence none. Knowing she's got words in her head don't mean nothing if you can only hear 'em when she talks. Looking at

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the back of her head as she's walking, I still feel my heart pull toward her silence, still feel like I've lost something terrible, something so sad I want to weep.

"Weep," Manchee barks.

The back of her head just keeps on walking.

The path is still pretty wide, wide enough for horses, but the terrain around us is getting rockier, the path twistier. We can hear the river down below us to our right now but it feels like we're tending away from it a bit, getting ourselves deep into an area that feels almost walled, rock face sometimes coming up on both sides, like we're walking at the bottom of a box. Little prickly firs grow out of every crevice and yellow vines with thorns wrapping themselves around the firs' trunks and you can see and hear yellow razor lizards hissing at us as we pass. Pite! they say, as a threat. Pite! Pite!

Anything you might want to touch here would cut you.

After maybe twenty, thirty minutes the path gets to a place where it widens out, where a few real trees start growing again, where the forest looks like it might be about to restart, where there's grass and stones low enough for sitting on. Which is what we do. Sit.

I take some dried mutton outta my rucksack and use the knife to cut strips for me, for Manchee, and for the girl. She takes them without saying anything and we sit quietly apart and eat for a minute.

I am Todd Hewitt, I think, closing my eyes and chewing, embarrassed for my Noise now, now that I know she can hear it, now that I know she can think about it.

Think about it in secret.

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I am Todd Hewitt.

I will be a man in twenty-nine days' time.

Which is true, I realize, opening my eyes. Time goes on, even when yer not looking.

I take another bite. "I ain't never heard the name Viola before," I say after a while, looking only at the ground, only at my strip of mutton. She don't say nothing so I glance up in spite of myself.

To find her looking back at me.

"What?" I say.

"Your face," she says.

I frown. "What about my face?"

She makes both of her hands into fists and mimes punching herself with them.

I feel myself redden. "Yeah, well."

"And from before," she says. "From-" She stops.

"Aaron," I say.

"Aaron," Manchee barks and the girl flinches a little. "That was his name," she says. "Wasn't it?" I nod, chewing on my mutton. "Yep," I say. "That's his name."

"He never said it out loud. But I knew what it was."

"Welcome to New World." I take another bite, having to tear an extra-chewy bit off with my teeth, which catches one sore spot among many in my mouth. "Ow." I spit out the bit of mutton and a whole lot of extra blood.

The girl watches me spit and then sets down her food. She picks up her bag, opens it, and finds a little blue box, slightly larger than the green campfire one. She presses a button on the front to open it and takes out what looks like

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a white plastic cloth and a little metal scalpel. She gets up from her rock and walks over to me with them.

I'm still sitting but I lean back when she brings her hands to my face.

"Bandages," she says.

"I've got my own."

"These are better."

I lean back farther. "Yer ..." I say, blowing out air thru my nose. "Yer quiet kinda ..." I shake my head a little. "Bothers you?"

"Yes."

"I know," she says. "Hold still."

She looks closer at the area around my swollen eye and then cuts off a piece of bandage with the little scalpel. She's about to put it over my eye but I can't help it and I move back from her touch. She don't say nothing, just keeps her hands up, like she's waiting. I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and offer up my face.

I feel the bandage touch the swollen area and immediately it gets cooler, immediately the pain starts to edge back, like it's all being swept away by feathers. She puts another one on a cut I have at my hairline and her fingers brush my face as she puts another one just below my lower lip. It all feels so good I haven't even opened my eyes yet.

"I don't have anything for your teeth," she says.

"'S okay," I say, almost whispering it. "Man, these are better than mine."

"They're partially alive," she says. "Synthetic human tissue. When you're healed, they die."

"Uh-huh," I say, acting like I might know what that means.

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There's a longer silence, long enough to make me open my eyes again. She's stepped back, back to a rock she can sit down on, watching me, watching my face.

We wait. Cuz it seems like we should.

And we should cuz after a little bit of waiting, she begins to talk.

"We crashed," she starts quietly, looking away. Then she clears her throat and says it again. "We crashed. There was a fire and we were flying low and we thought we'd be okay but something went wrong with the safety flumes and-" She holds open her hands to explain what follows the and. "We crashed."

She stops.

"Was that yer ma and pa?" I ask, after a bit.

But she just looks up into the sky, blue and spare, with clouds that look like bones. "And when the sun came up," she says, "that man came."

"Aaron."

"And it was so weird. He would shout and he would scream and then he'd leave. And I'd try to run away." She folds her arms. "I kept trying so he wouldn't find me, but I was going in circles and wherever I hid, there he'd be, I don't know how, until I found these sort of hut things."

"The Spackle buildings," I say but she ain't really listening. She looks at me. "Then you came." She looks at Manchee. "You and your dog that talks."

"Manchee!" Manchee barks.

Her face is pale and when she meets my eyes again, her own have gone wet. "What is this place?" she asks, her voice kinda thick. "Why do the animals talk? Why do I hear your

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voice when your mouth isn't moving? Why do I hear your voice a whole bunch over, piled on top of each other like there's nine million of you talking at once? Why do I see pictures of other things when I look at you? Why could I see what that man ..."

She fades off. She draws her knees up to her chest and hugs them. I feel like I better start talking real quick or she's gonna start rocking again.

"We're settlers," I say. She looks up at this, still hugging her knees but at least not rocking. "We were settlers," I continue. "Landed here to found New World about twenty years ago or so. But there were aliens here. The Spackle. And they ... didn't want us." I'm telling her what every boy in Prentisstown knows, the history even the dumbest farm boy like yours truly knows by heart. "Men tried for years to make peace but the Spackle weren't having it. And so war started."

She looks down again at the word war. I keep talking.

"And the way the Spackle fought, see, was with germs, with diseases. That was their weapons. They released germs that did things. One of them we think was meant to kill all our livestock but instead it just made every animal able to talk." I look at Manchee. "Which ain't as much fun as it sounds." I look back at the girl. "And another was the Noise."

I wait. She don't say nothing. But we both sorta know what's coming cuz we been here before, ain't we?

I take a deep breath. "And that one killed half the men and all the women, including my ma, and it made the

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thoughts of the men who survived no longer secret to the rest of the world."

She hides her chin behind her knees. "Sometimes I can hear it clearly," she says. "Sometimes I can tell exactly what you're thinking. But only sometimes. Most of the time it's just-"

"Noise," I say.

She nods. "And the aliens?"

"There ain't no more aliens."

She nods again. We sit for a minute, ignoring the obvious till it can't be ignored no longer.

"Am I going to die?" she asks quietly. "Is it going to kill me?"

The words sound different in her accent but they mean the same damn thing and my Noise can only say probably but I make it so my mouth says, "I don't know."

She watches me for more.

"I really don't know," I say, kinda meaning it. "If you'd asked me last week, I'd have been sure, but today-" I look down at my rucksack, at the book hiding inside. "I don't know." I look back at her. "I hope not."

But probably, says my Noise. Probably yer gonna die, and tho I try to cover it up with other Noise it's such an unfair thing it's hard not to have it right at the front.

"I'm sorry," I say.

She don't say nothing.

"But maybe if we get to the next settlement-" I say, but I don't finish cuz I don't know the answer. "You ain't sick yet. That's something."

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"You must warn them," she says, down into her knees. I look up sharply. "What?"

"Earlier, when you were trying to read that book--"

"I wasn't trying," I say, my voice a little bit louder all of a sudden.

"I could see the words in your whatever," she says, "and it's 'You must warn them.'"

"I know that! I know what it says."

Of course it's ruddy You must warn them. Course it is. Idiot.

The girl says, "It seemed like you were-"

"I know how to read."

She holds up her hands. "Okay."

"I do!"

"I'm just saying--"

"Well, stop just saying," I frown, my Noise roiling enough to get Manchee on his feet. I get to my feet as well. I pick up the rucksack and put it back on. "We should get moving."

"Warn who?" asks the girl, still sitting. "About what?"

I don't get to answer (even tho I don't know the answer) cuz there's a loud click above us, a loud clangy click that in Prentisstown would mean one thing:

A rifle being cocked.

And standing on a rock above us, there's someone with a freshly cocked rifle in both hands, looking down the sight, pointing it right at us.

"What's foremost in my mind at this partickalar juncture," says a voice rising from behind the gun, "is what do two little pups think they're doing a-burning down my bridge?"

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14

THE WRONG END OF A GUN

GUN! GUN! GUN!" Manchee starts barking, hopping back and forth in the dust.

"I'd quiet down yer beastie there," says the rifle, his face obscured by looking down the sight straight at us. "Wouldn't want anything to happen to it, now wouldja?"

"Quiet, Manchee!" I say.

He turns to me. "Gun, Todd?" he barks. "Bang, bang!"

"I know. Shut up."