Elsa sat with her back against the outcrop’s cool stone and looked out into the landscape of long white trunks. The daylight dimmed and more details emerged. Indecipherable scribbles riddled each tree’s pale torso, and bark adorned them like tattered skirts and fragile, flaky necklaces.

Mina emerged from the tunnel and sat beside her. “So? What are you going to do?”

“I’ll rest here tonight,” Elsa said.

The decision to stay had been an easy one. Elsa’s ribs ached, her cuts stung and she was tired. She wasn’t ready to face the challenges of her new environment, at least for a few hours.

“You should come inside,” Mina said. “It’s getting dark.”

Elsa scanned the trees again. “Thom and Sophie aren’t back yet. They went to the river.”

“Okay,” Mina said. “I’ll wait too.”

Mina settled herself on the ground. She gathered a collection of stones at her feet and piled them onto one another until a dozen tiny totems surrounded her. The evening light highlighted her young features.

“How old are you?” Elsa asked.

“Twelve and three quarters.”

“And the others?”

Mina placed a stone shard on another tower. It collapsed, and she grimaced. “Ethan’s my age. Sophie’s ten and Thom is almost nine.”

“You’re all so young,” Elsa said. “Too young to be left on your own. The guards should have waited until the Guardians arrived.”

Mina shrugged. “They said it’s part of our test.”

“And you believed them?”

“I guess,” Mina said. “Why would they lie?”

Elsa didn’t have an answer to Mina’s question. She just knew there was something odd about this situation. The Farm was Haven’s future and these Chosen were part of that. Protecting them should have been the Guardians’ number one priority.

Mina flicked a stone at Elsa’s leg to get her attention. “I’m glad you’re staying, even if it’s only for a night. The others are always scared and that means I can’t be. It’s tiring, caring for them and hiding my own fears at the same time. But with you here, I think I’ll sleep well tonight.”

Elsa understood the heavy weight of responsibility. She too had been forced to make choices that benefited others from a very young age.

“I was supposed to go to the Farm,” Elsa admitted. “I didn’t and that’s how I got this.” She pointed to the tattoo on her wrist.

“Is that why you left the Underground? Were you escaping the Darkzone?”

“No. I’m searching for my uncle.”

“The Junker?”

“Yeah,” Elsa said. “You know him?”

Mina cleared a space in front of her with her boot and used a jagged stone to draw in the dirt. “Everyone in Haven knows Amos Jefferson…and you.” Elsa’s junking cart emerged beneath Mina’s steady hand. “Every birthday my father would let me pick something from your stall. I spent the weeks beforehand searching for the perfect gift.”

Mina erased her drawing.

“When I was little, I used to pretend I was a Junker too, trawling the surface and having lots of adventures. I even told my mother I wanted to be you when I grew up.”

Elsa felt flattered. She’d always assumed the Citizens of Haven looked down on her. But Mina made her work sound exotic and enviable. It was a nice feeling, even if it was a lie.

“Is your uncle in trouble?” Mina asked.

“I think so,” Elsa said. “He helped some friends escape to the surface. The Black Guardsmen caught him and he was injured. I’m hoping he’s still with these friends now.”

Mina’s expression turned thoughtful. “They could be anywhere in the whole-wide valley.”

Elsa nodded. “They could, but I won’t give up.”

“You’ll find him,” Mina said.

Elsa appreciated her certainty.

A moment later, Mina smiled and pointed. “They’re back.”

Elsa followed her finger. Dark smudges moved through the trees, eventually taking the form of children. Sophie and Thom scrambled up the rocky incline towards the entrance, faces triumphant.

“Look!” Sophie clutched Elsa’s soggy boot in one hand, and her blue headscarf and tool pouch in the other.

Elsa accepted the kit. “How’d you get these?”

“We used the steps you made,” Sophie said in between long panting breaths. “We searched the beach and it was in some reeds. Thom held my hand and I fished it out.”

“Thank you.”

Sophie waved Thom forward. “We also found this. Is it yours?”

Thom held out Walt’s shotgun. Elsa felt a pang in her chest for the man with whom she’d shared food and fire on her flight to the surface.

“No, it wasn’t mine.”

“What should we do with it?” Thom asked. He looked over his shoulder. “Do you think the owner will want it back?”

Elsa shook her head. “No one will come after it. Give it here, I’ll take care of it.”

Thom handed the weapon over. Limp reeds and mud covered its barrel and stock.

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“It might look better once I’ve given it a clean.”

Elsa turned towards the cave entrance and the breeze lifted. The dull yellow bushes around them quivered, as if stroked by an unseen hand.

“Let’s go in,” Mina said.

The true face of the Chaos arrived. Heavy, black clouds rolled across the sky, devouring the dusty heavens in great rolling bites. Darkness followed on swift feet. Lightning arced across the sky and the pale trees shivered. Elsa trembled with them. It wasn’t just the lightning that scared her, but the deafening sound that engulfed her—as if the entire world was collapsing.

***

Elsa woke as the cave lightened. She lay quiet and still. Her morning ritual of fumbling for a lantern or a candle to hold back the dark was not required here. The children’s soft breathing stirred the dusty air. She could see Ethan’s scrunched up face across the room. He snorted in his sleep and rolled over. Mina lay next to him. She’d flung one arm over her eyes to block out the light and beneath it, a slight frown pulled at her lips. Sophie lay half on her pallet and half on Thom’s. Not that he seemed to mind. Thom slept deeply, curled up on his side at the edge of the pallet, his face peaceful.

The details around Elsa continued to sharpen. Her eyes found the Great Oak, the Guardians’ symbol, and she suddenly felt like a fraud. She was Bad Seed. She wasn’t meant to be here.

Elsa rose and collected the shotgun from where she’d left it the night before. While listening to the children’s stories of their lives in Haven, she’d taken it apart just as her uncle had taught her and cleaned most of the mud from the barrel. Elsa inspected it again and conceded it looked even worse in the early morning light.

“You’re not even worth the metal you’re made from,” she muttered.

Walt’s face once more came to Elsa’s mind. She saw him sitting in the dark with the shotgun across his knees and his sick wife, Estelle, sleeping at his feet.

“It’s a talisman of sorts,” Walt had said, his fingers tight around the old weapon. “It’s the only protection we have against the darkness.”

Elsa remembered how the two Bad Seeds had wanted to start a new life on the surface. They’d been filled with hope, despite their grim circumstances. Elsa had latched onto that hope and used it as a guiding light in the dark. She’d stayed with them, even when she should have travelled on alone, and in doing so Elsa had led them straight to their death at the hands of Melker and the guards. The Shotgun was the only thing of theirs that had made it to the surface.

“I’ll put it somewhere nice for you,” Elsa promised their spirits. “Somewhere the wind and daylight will touch it.”

Elsa slung the strap over her shoulder and tiptoed towards the cave entrance.

“Elsa?” Sophie sat up and rubbed her eyes. “You’re dressed.”

“Hush,” Elsa whispered. She pointed to the others. “Don’t wake them.”

Sophie lowered her voice. “Where are you going?”

“To wash.”

“I’ll come!” She kicked back her blanket and accidently thumped Thom in the face with her barefoot. “Wait for me.”

“No, stay,” Elsa said. “There’s something I want to do on my own.”

Sophie paused in her search for her shoes. “But—”

“Don’t worry. Lie down. I’ll be back before you realise.”

Sophie’s eyes flicked to the cave entrance. “You’re not going to leave us, are you?”

Elsa shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Promise?”

Elsa nodded. She waited until the girl had once more snuggled her blonde head beneath her blankets and travelled outside.

This morning, a brown fog covered the forest, giving the landscape a strange dream-like quality. Elsa found one of the oak carvings in a nearby tree and followed the arrows backwards. They took her along a winding animal track surrounded by thick brush.

Eventually, Elsa came to a stream. Unlike the river from the day before, this channel was wide and gentle, the water clear enough to see the smooth pebbles layering the shallow bottom.

Elsa placed the gun against a fallen tree trunk and knelt over the stream to splash the grit from her eyes. Her hands stung in the cool water and she flexed her palms. She was going to have more scars. Elsa rinsed the cuts and turned to the worst of her injuries. She lifted her shirt and inspected the ugly purple bruise over her ribcage. Elsa pressed the area and felt a small measure of relief when the pain failed to take her breath away.

“Crook! Crook!”

She dropped her shirt and turned towards the bird’s alarmed call. A tall patch of grass rustled further along the riverbed. A moment later it exploded, as a feathery body launched itself into the air.

“Crook! Crook!” The brown bird shrieked.

Elsa tracked its flight and froze. A painted man stood on the opposite bank, a broad figure between pale trees. He wore loose shorts and no shoes. Strokes and swirls in thick brown mud covered his face and lean, muscled torso.

The man stepped forward and she saw the large knife in his hand.

Elsa acted on instinct. She grabbed the unloaded shotgun and raised it between them.

“I don’t think so.”

With any luck, he wouldn’t look at the weapon too closely and would leave.

The man frowned.

“That’s it,” Elsa said. “Back away or I’ll riddle your chest with holes.”

Rather than doing as Elsa commanded, the man took another step forward, calling her bluff.

“You’re taking a risk with an old gun like that,” he said. “I thought you’d be a better judge of junk.”

“Excuse me?”

“Put the gun down, Elsa. I can see the rusted barrel from here and I doubt your ammunition is any better.”

Elsa’s hand shook. “Noak!”

She didn’t know if his name was a laugh or a sob. Elsa lowered the weapon and focused on his face. Now, she saw the familiar features under the mud, his strong jaw and deep blue eyes.

“How did you know I was here?” Elsa asked.

Had he been waiting for her? A warm feeling erupted in her chest. Elsa shouldered the gun and moved forward to cross the river and greet him. Noak held up his hands and stepped back, widening the distance. His frown deepened.

“No, stay on your side.”

Elsa halted. They stared at each other across the water. There was so much she wanted to tell him: all the things that had happened since he’d left; that she was happy to see him; and that she needed his help. Noak didn’t give her the chance.

“Why are you here?”

The warm feeling deserted Elsa. She rubbed her arms against the sudden chill creeping along her skin. “I’m looking for my uncle. Melker said you took him to the surface.”

“You shouldn’t have listened to Melker,” Noak said. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“How can you say that? You know what my uncle means to me.”

“He wouldn’t want you on the surface.”

Elsa scowled at his words. “Then let him tell me that.”

“You don’t belong here,” Noak said. “Go back to Haven.”

Elsa didn’t understand why he was acting this way. Especially after all the trouble Noak had gone through to find Finn. “No.”

“Don’t argue, Elsa.” He glanced over his shoulder. “There isn’t time.”

“I’m not going home,” she said with more force. “Either you take me to my uncle, or I’ll follow you.”

“You must listen.” Noak stepped down into the stream.

She placed the gun between them. If Noak wasn’t going to help her, then he was her enemy.

“Back up, Noak. I’m through listening. Amos is more father to me than any other man and I’ll not leave him to rot on the surface.”

Noak kept coming. He grimaced at the shotgun. “Stop waving that thing around. We both know it doesn’t work.”

Elsa shrugged. “Maybe it will, maybe it won’t. You know how good I am at fixing junk. Are you willing to take the chance?”

Noak halted in the middle of the stream, suddenly uncertain.

“Elsa,” he said, only to pause when a howl drifted from the woods.

The strange menacing call turned her insides to water. Elsa looked in the direction of the sound and her eyes found a thin line of smoke rising above the trees—the Guardian’s cave.

“What was that?”

Elsa caught Noak’s guilty expression. Another howl rose, this one even closer to the hideout.

Understanding dawned. “That call, it’s not an animal.”

Noak inched forward. “Elsa, I’m warning you. Don’t get involved.”

“You’re not here for me, you’re here for the Chosen.”

Noak’s voice was hard, foreign, “You can’t change this.”

“Hell, I can’t.”

Noak leapt onto the bank and Elsa whirled. She sprinted into the trees before he could stop her, back towards the Guardians’ cave.