First Song Read online

  Noah looked back at the older man’s face. They were so close now. Yusef gave him a calm smile and whispered, “My family isn’t in Smalltown, Noah. They died years ago in the Gaza Strip.”

  The youth tried jumping back, aware that his strike had missed actually injuring Yusef and that the man could counterattack, but Yusef’s grip held firm on Noah’s sweater like they were almost hugging. The surrounding Red Chain members made more noise and banged metal together, thinking that the two combatants were struggling with controlling each other’s knives. Noah asked, “Why are you telling me this?”

  Yusef’s face had begun growing pale, and he gave Noah a nod to look down again. The man’s knife had been plunged into his own stomach, blood beginning to spill all over both of their clothes. Noah didn’t know what was happening. Why had the other man stabbed himself?

  His voice not much more than a whisper, Yusef said, “Do not fool yourself. There was never any peace on this world to begin with. Take the orb with you. It is the closest thing to peace you will find before you die. Salaam.”

  The man slumped against the confused and terrified Noah, his consciousness fading as he bled out. It was only then that Noah realized he had lived. Noah hadn’t killed the other man, but he had tried. His hand might have even been on the knife. Had it? He couldn’t remember. Maybe Yusef hadn’t technically committed suicide after all…he wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure about anything. The crowd of raiders seemed confused by the outcome until Noah pushed Yusef’s body off of him. After they saw the blood on his hands, the slavers all cheered.

  A shadow fell over Noah. Redford Vaillancourt put on a hand on Noah’s shoulder and said, “Today, you survive. But you aren’t one of us yet. What’s your name, kid?”

  After a moment, Noah gathered himself and forced his dry tongue to scrape out his name. “Noah. Noah Henson.”

  Redford’s giant hand smacked against Noah’s face like a sledgehammer, splitting his lip and making Noah see stars. The surrounding crowd laughed. Redford frowned and growled, “Wrong answer. From now on, your name is Worm. We feed you. You live. You do what we say, got it, Worm?”

  Noah massaged his face, staring at the bloody, lifeless body that had once been Yusef, the last person who had shown Noah any kind of kindness. So now Noah was neither a slave nor a raider, but something in between. It would be something he would need to get used to. He’d made his choice—he wanted to live. “I understand.” The young man savagely suppressed tears, refusing to give the slavers any further satisfaction.

  His knees suddenly gave out, and he fell on his butt, one of his hands falling on something round and cracked - the purple orb. Something like static electricity rushed up Noah’s arm at the touch, and he quickly pocketed the object. One of Redford’s men walked over and unlocked Noah’s manacles. None of them had seen him take the orb.

  Redford crossed his arms and measured the lanky Noah with his gaze. “Once more,” Redford said. “What is your name?”

  Noah winced. He didn’t want to be Noah anymore. He had had to make decisions about how to be decent in a terrible world, to choose between survival and honesty. But Worm? Worm could do whatever the heck they told him to do. It wasn’t ideal, but he would live…and he was a rat now, after all.

  “Worm, sir. My name is Worm.”

  Chapter 2

  “He’s useless,” muttered Talbot, and Redford nodded.

  It had been a couple weeks since the Red Chain had taken Noah in. He had been their gopher, the guy who did everything for anyone in the group without question. In return, he was allowed to survive and eat scraps of venison. Most of the raiders in the group were skilled hunters, dragging in deer for food and exchanging slaves with fortresses they encountered for weaponry and other items. Noah had heard that the slavers’ largest and most consistent customers had been the Iron Wolves, and now they were on the way to Iron Wolf Fortress with the new haul of slaves.

  Talbot, a leader of the Red Chain, called a “foreman” by the others, seemed to despise Noah personally. The man wore a goatee, had a gold tooth, and his tattoos under one eye and on one side of his neck were crude, almost unfinished looking. His rough skin had a red hue, and he kept his stringy hair tied into a ponytail. His leather jacket had a patch sewn on, a biker gang sign or something, maybe a reminder of the days before the Shift. Talbot and Redford conversed openly about Noah. In fact, he could tell they were making it a point for him to hear what they were saying. He got the message loud and clear: Make yourself useful or we get rid of you.

  Noah kept his hands in his pockets, his right hand idly toying with the broken purple orb. Yusef’s last words to Noah had been that the orb would give him peace. At that time, he hadn’t known what that had meant, but now he had a better understanding.

  Thinking about the orb allowed him to ignore his surroundings. Some of the slaves were allowed to walk, especially the meeker or weaker ones. Mothers with children were allowed to walk alongside their caravan too, the young ones carrying heavy chains. Some of the women actually helped support the chains of the littlest kids. Noah tried not to see them, tried to look past them, but sometimes his gaze alighted on the barred wagons.

  He didn’t want to dwell on the fact that he walked alongside a cage full of captured people, all to be sold into slavery. Their cries, their whispers for his help were unwelcome. He didn’t want to think about the silence he gave to them in return.

  What did they expect? That he would unlatch their cages and let them go free? Nothing was that easy. He had no power of his own, so the best he could have done was just pop the locks and run along with the escapees. Of course, only half of them would probably survive as the Red Chain hunted them down once more. There would be a chance for freedom, but the price would be high.

  I’m a coward, Noah thought. He mentally hummed a tune in his head to drown out other thoughts. It was strange that he couldn’t remember what song the music actually came from. He hadn’t heard any real music in years, so his fuzzy memory didn’t exactly raise any flags. Somehow, the orb pulsed in time with his mental humming.

  The orb’s strange behavior was one of the first discoveries he’d made about the mysterious object. Noah blinked and his vision blurred a little as something like a blue rectangle appeared in front of him. He looked around warily, but none of the other raiders made any indication they could see the shape.

  The blue, rectangular box floated wherever Noah looked as long as he held the purple orb and mentally willed it to appear. Noah knew what the shape looked like, but it was impossible. He must be crazy. There were words on the box, the screen, but they were fuzzed out. He had tried several times to read the text but hadn’t made any headway with deciphering it. He willed the box away, and it disappeared.

  “Seriously, am I going crazy?” Noah whispered. Talking to himself was already not exactly normal behavior but seeing things that weren’t there took it to another level.

  He stole a glance at Redford, the leader of the Red Chain. Some of the Chains called him Red, but everyone else referred to the bald man as Boss. The man sneered at Noah with his scarred upper lip, and Noah flinched. This wasn’t the first time Talbot, Red’s second in command, had voiced his frustration with their new worm’s uselessness. They had been talking about it for a week, but luckily, Noah was still being allowed to live.

  The sandy-haired youth was too afraid to run, too scared that weak, exhausted legs wouldn’t take him far away, fast enough. The orb. Just think about the orb. He rubbed his fingers against the smooth surface, stopping against the crack.

  Noah massaged a new bruise on his face with his other hand. Every new scrape or bruise that Talbot, Red, or any other Chain had given him for failing a task or not doing something fast enough had been healing fast. In fact, he’d been healing abnormally fast. It was lucky that his body was repairing itself so quickly, but was getting seriously tired of being hit. In fact, half the time he couldn’t tell if he was actually useless to the Red Chain or if they said th
at about any new recruit. Either way, Noah didn’t like his position–he needed to change something and fast.

  Gentle probing of his face revealed that the bruise had already almost healed. The orb. It had to be the orb. This thing is healing me, Noah realized. Whatever the orb was, it wasn’t like anything he had ever experienced before. Just touching it gave him a sense of calm he hadn’t felt since before the Shift.

  “Hey,” someone whispered.

  By the voice, Noah knew it was one of the prisoners, a woman who had been caught with her young daughter. The woman was middle-aged and skinny, but her face was lumpy with the telltale marks of someone that had used be overweight, then starved. Her olive skin was scratched, dirty. The only jewelry she wore was a plastic bracelet people could buy in gas stations before the entire world had gone crazy. The woman would probably be sold to make weapons for the Iron Wolves, threats made against her daughter to keep her in line. Noah ignored her. The last thing he needed was Red knowing he’d spoken to the prisoners.

  “Worm, right?” the woman insisted just above a whisper.

  Noah frowned. “My name is Noah to you. Only the Chain calls me Worm.”

  The woman’s curiosity flashed into anger. She spat at his feet. “You think you’re better than us? You’re worse. You could help us escape, but you don’t. I can see the guilt on your face. Do you think you aren’t scum because of that guilt? Because you aren’t. You’re even worse because you don’t act on it. You don—”

  A young girl, probably eight or nine pulled on the woman’s leg. The tired-looking slave-to-be angrily turned from Noah and began to cry into her daughter’s hair.

  “She’s right, you know,” said a voice from above. Talbot had slowed his horse down from ahead. His battered, steel-toed work boots were covered in mud. “You are worse than a piece of trash. All you do is carry packs, but what purpose does that even serve? We could just tie that stuff to another horse or put them on the prisoner carts. What good are you, Worm?’

  Talbot kicked Noah’s back, and he fell to the ground. The miserable young man felt people stepping past him, pretending to ignore his weakness and humiliation. He heard their snickers. Noah fought down the tears welling up in his eyes, and his hand instinctively went for the orb. He held the precious object and hummed the usual song in his head. The orb responded.

  Suddenly, strangely, he could hear everything around in the general area. He caught Red’s grunt of agreement when Talbot said they should probably get rid of Noah that night after they dropped off their shipment. A few Chains laughed at that. Sobbing from the people he had helped enslave, people he did nothing to comfort haunted him.

  Then there was a new sound, a snapping of twigs in the woods.

  Noah’s head snapped up. He held his breath and focused everything on his strange new hearing. The horses neighed, their hooves clopping at a slow walk. Leather jackets brushed against the tall grass. People whispered in the distance, closing in on them.

  “Come on, Worm!” Talbot yelled. “Keep up, or we stick a bolt in you.”

  “I can hear it all,” Noah said to himself as he got up. He wanted to say more, to warn someone about what he had heard, but he stopped himself.

  All the sounds around him had become crystal clear as he pressed his fingers on the orb. Quickly, he put the orb back in his pocket, and his hearing went back to normal. Again, he put his hand back in his pocket. The surrounding noises were clear again.

  His senses were so sharp; he could even distinguish the different breathing patterns of all the people around him. The world hadn’t gotten louder, just clearer, like he had mistaken the lyrics to a song for years and had just now realized the right words. Each sound rang in isolation, and every noise was familiar to him except for the whispers in the forest.

  The soft, unfamiliar sounds were not coming from the prisoners or the fifty-odd members of the Red Chain. Noah suddenly realized the group was about to be ambushed.

  The blue screen he’d seen before suddenly popped into view. The entire thing was still fuzzy, like it was out of focus, and Noah couldn’t make out what the writing said, if it even said anything. This was the first time the object had manifested on its own—something was wrong. To Noah, its appearance confirmed that something was about to happen.

  Maybe I could be free from the Red Chain, he realized. If he let whoever was ambushing them attack without warning, Noah could survive and slip away—risk, reward. Maybe even Talbot and Redford won’t notice. After pondering for a few seconds, Noah realized he’d been too obvious when Talbot stopped his horse and gave him a glare. “If I have to ask one more time, Worm, you’re dead.”

  Noah jumped up and nodded. “Sorry, sir.”

  The attackers were closing in, picking up their pace. If Noah didn’t say anything now, the Red Chain could take the attack head-on. Even if half the members died in the attack, it would be impossible for them to have the strength they’d had before.

  Noah sneaked glances at the members, most of whom were only a little older than him. He wondered if they had all been given the ‘Worm’ treatment once too. Was it was part of a regular hazing process? However they’d gotten one, they all had jackets now. Noah frowned as something churned in his stomach. What they’re doing is wrong, he reminded himself. What you’re doing is wrong. He wasn’t any better than they were. If anything, he was worse, never speaking out against slavery, sticking his neck out. The Red Chain didn’t starve or rape slaves, who were property, but they did sell people to the Iron Wolves. Things Noah had heard about them made the Red Chain look like boy scouts. At least the Chain only killed people.

  Another thought came to him and it froze whatever fantasies he had about escaping. What if the attackers are worse? he thought. So many things had to go right in order to escape. First, the attackers had to be successful in taking down the Red Chain as a group. Second, they had to specifically take down, kill or incapacitate both Talbot and Redford. Third, Noah would have to convince the attackers that he wasn’t one of the Chains, just another victim in all this.

  But am I a victim? He played with the hope that he might have some shred of decency left in him, enough to deserve freedom. Then he thought about the last two weeks of fear for his own survival, his drive to make himself useful. It made him sick. Was this how Talbot and Redford made such a loyal raider gang, with this fear? Maybe one day, Noah would stop feeling sick, but if that happened, he wouldn’t be Noah anymore—he’d just be Worm.

  The Red Chain deserved to die. He deserved to die. Noah could still hear the attackers’ footsteps. They were so close now, in the cover of the tall grass and high trees. The potential for freedom was so close. But... “Am-ambush!” he shouted, the sound coming out like a hiccup.

  Talbot and Redford stopped and spun back toward Noah. Talbot growled, “What did you just say, Worm?”

  Redford calmly raised his hands in a fist, and the entire party stopped. He moved his hand in a circle, and all the members formed a defensive perimeter, the crossbowmen setting themselves up for an attack. The deadly, modern sports crossbows manufactured before the Shift whispered as they were cocked. Other than weapons being readied, no one made a sound, not even the prisoners. All the slaves-to-be knew that punishment would be swift if they spoke out of turn. Mothers clamped hands over the mouths of children. Fear ruled them too, they attached their own chains, just like Noah had.

  The leader of the Red Chain scanned the tall grass and tree line for a few seconds, and Noah felt like his entire life stretched in that silence. He had made the decision without even thinking. Even the touch of the orb didn’t stop the tight knots that grew in his stomach. He felt like a coward through and through, and actually, truly hated himself for the first time in his life.

  Redford’s scar on his upper lip warped as he frowned at Talbot. Then he gave Noah a hard look, studying the Chain’s Worm and nodded. In that nod, Noah knew he would survive, that he had bought himself his way into the Red Chain’s trust. But at what cost? R
edford spoke loud, but calmly to Noah, “Get down, Worm. Time for the big boys to play.” The man waited a few more second, before ordering, “Fire.”

  From his spot on the ground, Noah watched as each member of the Chain with missile weapons attacked at once, aiming at targets that Noah couldn’t see.

  Then the screams began.

  Arrows, bolts, and shouts flew above him. Noah could hear everything. Some of the slaves couldn’t hold in their fear and began to wail. Meanwhile, men and women on both sides died, but mostly the attackers. The Chain had been prepared. The Red Chain were well-trained and had great gear—their cohesion was top-notch. The unknown attackers had had the element of surprised, but Noah had ruined it. In only a few minutes, the skirmish ended, and a number of the attackers fled.

  Noah’s head scraped against the dirt the entire time, staying low and stewing in shame. I might as well stay in the dirt, Noah thought. I’m nothing but a Worm.

  Chapter 3

  “Worm,” Talbot asked, “do you hear anything?”

  Noah reached into his worn, Red Chain leather jacket. The jacket signified he was part of the raider gang, but just because he’d been given one didn’t mean he was actually accepted yet. When his hand touched the cracked orb, sounds instantly became sharper, clearer. He no longer had to hold it as long to experience the hearing effect.

  “No, sir,” Noah confirmed. He quickly pulled his hand free of his jacket to help balance the large pack he’d been forced to carry. Talbot moved ahead with Redford, and Noah dispassionately examined the slaves in the wagon-cages.

  His duties hadn’t changed in the three months since he warned the raiders about the ambush. He was still in charge of watching the slaves and carrying whatever Talbot told him to. But ever since his timely warning, Redford had used Noah’s unusual hearing to the group’s benefit. Noah had prevented a couple more attacks since then, but this was good. He was being useful.