by S. J Woods
“At least we’d be alright now,” Teonie joked. “As long as I didn’t pick my own food!”
“Oh, you’d totally be dead on the first day.” Dane laughed.
This would be the last full day of walking and Dane thought that he would miss the comradery and wilderness when they moved out of the National Park and back onto the streets before parting ways along the road home.
Despite his initial impression of Teonie as annoyingly persistent and chatty, he’d grown close to her over the journey. She was quick-witted and had remained positive, throwing herself into trying new things, whereas many of the others had been hesitant to the changes. Even though she was the youngest, she’d been the only member of the team to not display any signs of bad-temper or irritability when coping with the lack of food and sleep.
Dane could see how useful this journey would be as an assessment exercise for the commanders. The pressures had been so different to anything they’d experienced before, and Dane was impressed with the plethora of skills the squad had. Seraphine, however, stood out as the star of the team. Without her, there wasn’t one other person who knew about safe foods or how to start a fire.
Dane said as much to her after they had successfully crossed the boundary and were back on the road to civilisation later that day. Dane would be one of the first to reach his home, and he wanted to share his appreciation with her before he left for the last leg of his journey alone.
“Thank you.” She treated him to a genuine smile.
They had stopped to smarten up before leaving the National Park, and her sun-bleached hair was contained in a neat ponytail and her jacket was fastened correctly, her sleeves unrolled. Everyone’s mind was back to business, now that they had survived the mission, but it would be an anxious wait to see how they had fared compared with other teams when they returned to base.
Dane was one of the first to leave, reaching a town just south of his own in the late afternoon. Hunter and Seraphine were still with the remaining team and they planned on camping overnight, before finishing the last leg of the journey the next day. Dane felt hesitant about leaving them. It didn’t feel right that he was ending his journey when they still had a day of hardship ahead of them. There would be no resources freely available like in the forest, and they would be forced to beg or borrow. He wished he had asked more questions back at the briefing; he would have happily arranged transport or at least nutrition and hydration supplements for their journey, from friends or family once he reached his own hometown.
Another thing that had been bothering Dane was the thought of Teonie travelling her own last leg alone. She lived fifty miles out from him and the team were venturing south again before they travelled west, which meant Teonie would have to cover a considerable distance north on her own. She hadn’t forged the same easy friendship as Dane had with some of the others. At first, he had wondered whether it was a natural divide between the Intelligence and the Operative teams, but Riku had seemed to form a solid relationship with some of the others. He felt oddly protective of her and wished he could ask her to stay at his for the night and make the journey with her the next day.
It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her, but he held back, unsure of how things would be at home. He spoke to his mother weekly, out of duty and guilt, but the conversations were forced and unnatural. They skimmed across the surface, with meaningless, stilted chat and Dane felt uneasy enough about what he would find on his return, without the added pressure of Teonie witnessing any tension at the non-conventional set-up. If he had the means to communicate ahead to his family, he would have insisted that Teonie come, but his own self-consciousness stopped him making the offer.
He felt a prickle of guilt that he was choosing to put his own comfort before Teonie’s safety, and his conscience gnawed away as they were nearing the point where Dane would part ways with the squad.
“You know,” Dane said, hoping to keep his tone casual. “It might be quicker if you come to mine and we make the journey to yours tomorrow instead.”
“I’ll be fine.” Teonie insisted, waving a hand. “I’ll fuel up before I leave the others, and I’ll make it in a few hours. It’s all plain-sailing.”
Reluctantly, he parted with the rest of the group, surprised by how strongly he felt bonded to almost all of them. He had developed a close friendship with Riku, who was smart and funny, as well as Faith and Cory. He didn’t like Hunter. He had been rude and dismissive to Dane and anyone that he deemed as less experienced. He came across as arrogant and it was clear to Dane that the only acts of support or thoughtfulness were only to make himself look good for the assessment. He might have put this down to Hunter’s rank if it hadn’t been for how great Seraphine had been. Dane smiled just thinking about her as he set off on his final solo leg of the journey. She was amazing. At twenty-three, she was one of the youngest to reach the rank of Officer, and her skills were second-to-none. She had taught him so much on the short trip, and he was grateful that, thanks to her, his initial doubts about his capabilities on the team were almost forgotten.
He walked through yet another town of identical high-rise buildings, people coming and going, transport capsules whizzing past or in the cases of the wealthy, overhead. He craned his head to see if he could make out the mountain range of the National Park above the shiny, chrome structures, but it was useless. All that could be seen was buildings for miles. There were neat squares of artificial topiary, recreation grounds, every few blocks, and Dane smiled to see children running around, closely supervised by their Attendants. It was nice to see that some traditions hadn’t been erased in favour of simulators.
It took him back to Ridge Falls, running around the recreation squares as a child, but that brought back memories of Arielle, and he quickly switched his mind to other thoughts. Years of training himself to forget about the things he couldn’t change enabled him to move on swiftly. He thought, instead, about the things that he loved about living in Ridge Falls.
Ridge Falls was a founding town, built by explorers on the edge of the vast mountain range that birthed the breath-taking waterfall after which the town was named. That part of the town had been cordoned off, of course, but unlike some of the old lakes and rivers, which were successfully dried up and filled, the fall had only been partially dammed. Ahead of the tinted glass barriers that shut the mountains and the waterfall away from the public, a replica mountain range had been created, complete with a one-thousand-foot simulated waterfall and “hiking” trails. It was always busy with tourists and educational visits. There had even been reports of introducing some Artificial Animals to the trails, but as far as Dane knew it was all still being worked on.
Dane’s home was in a low building, only ten storeys tall, just a few blocks from the entrance to the Ridge Falls attraction, and, conscious of bumping into anyone he knew, he hit a left as soon as he reached town and walked the length of the town along a quieter, little-used road. He purposely walked a mile or two north of his address, planning on looping back from the Park. It crossed his mind to wonder whether he was doing this out of sentimentality after his few days living with nature or whether he was just putting off the inevitable homecoming, but he tossed aside the fleeting thoughts. He concentrated instead on the lush greenness of the park as it came into view. A line of topiary separated the concrete streets from the sudden cluster of rolling hills that rose from nowhere. Behind the hills, and out of view, Dane knew that there were several cleverly-engineered trails that could be set to various courses, from stark, rocky climbs where you could face (totally safe, of course) landslides to easy strolls for the whole family through pretty scenery. The waterfall was reached across a number of bridges, to allow the tourists to “follow” the river upstream. Dane headed towards the first bridge, a chrome structure that had been designed to look as though it were a simple, wooden bridge curving gently over a slow, lazy river. The river was, of course, artificial, but there was no way of knowing this. As children, Dane and his friend had even purposely dropped
small objects in, hearing a satisfying ‘plop’ and the accompanying ripple of the water as whatever they’d thrown in disappeared. They were caught one day by an Attendant and scolded by their parents for scratching the expensive screens beneath.
Dane smiled at the memory. He was pleased to see there weren’t many people still milling around at the park, and he could only make out one person as he approached his bridge. The person stood, with their back to Dane, in the centre of the bridge leaning across the barrier as if looking in. It looked like a woman, from the cut of the dark pants and tunic-style shirt, with rich chestnut-coloured hair waving down to just beneath the collar. Dane slowed his pace, suddenly wanting to take his turn at being alone on the bridge. Only a local would know that the craggy peaks that emerged in the distance were the only visible signs from the whole park of the natural Ridge Falls. The woman showed no signs of moving on and Dane continued forward reluctantly.
He was within one hundred feet of the bridge when the woman moved. She had been stock still for the whole time she had been in Dane’s line of vision, and the movement surprised him. Her stature had the air of someone out for a stroll, idling the time away, gazing into the distance, and he would have naturally expected her to turn away slowly and continue at an unhurried, leisurely pace in whichever direction she was headed. Instead, she turned quickly, the speed of her movement causing the ends of her hair to billow out as she crossed to the other side of the bridge. She didn’t turn to look left or right and showed no sign of acknowledging Dane’s approach. She leaned over the railing of the bridge, using her arms for leverage until she was balanced at the waist and her feet were completely off the floor.
Dane’s first thought that was that she was going to jump in, and he started to shout out but then thought better of it, fearing that a sudden noise would make her start and lose her balance. The yell died in his throat, coming out as a strangled, muffled grunt. Instead, he broke into a run. His footsteps were noisy against the gravel trail and the soft crunching caught the woman’s attention. She lowered herself back onto her feet as she turned to look at the disturbance. Dane reached the bridge at the same time she turned to face him, and he stopped abruptly. The adrenaline that had flooded his body just moments before drained away and in its place, he felt his chest tighten.
“Dane.”
The woman spoke first. Her words were calm and even, with no hint of surprise at seeing him here unexpectedly. Her soft brown eyes betrayed the serenity of her tone though, and Dane had seen the flash of panic, recognising the plain emotion on her face as clearly as if he’d been looking at himself in a mirror.
“Hi, Ma.” He replied.
SIX
She moved slowly towards him, and her expression changed, eyes furrowed in puzzlement, before Dane realised that he was frozen to the spot. He quickly pulled himself together and bridged the space between him, swooping his mother into an embrace.
She was smaller than him by over half a foot, and he squeezed her tightly, noting that she felt the same, not skin-and-bones as he’d been half-expecting. He told himself that that was a good sign, but his mind quickly reminded him that she’d been hanging over the edge of a bridge just seconds before.
“Everything ok?” He asked, hoping that he sounded casual.
“Good.” She took his arm and they set off in the direction of home. “This is unexpected.”
Dane filled her in on how he had been selected for a new operation and was taking leave before training started. He didn’t go into detail about the assessment or the journey home, instead he changed the subject, asking about the children.
Alyssa answered Dane’s questions, but she didn’t press him, nor did she ask him any questions of her own. Her tone was light and pleasant, and Dane shot furtive looks at her from the corner of his eye, out of frustration and disbelief. Frustration that she was still like this, and disbelief that she hadn’t finally found it in her to pull herself together. Dane had hoped that something positive would have come out of his father’s death, thinking that she’d be shocked into taking stock of her life or at least, so busy that she wouldn’t have time to disappear into her own world like she so frequently did.
With each step they took closer to home, Dane found his irritation growing. He was tired and hungry, his feet and hands raw with blisters and cuts from the journey. He couldn’t help but wonder how different his friends’ homecomings would be. He pictured excited parents, throwing their arms around their adult children, laughter, dozens of questions, maybe even some tears. He wanted to shake her and ask her why she couldn’t just display some emotion. She wasn’t cold or cruel or uncaring, she was just vacant and impassive to almost everything. Not for the first time, Dane wished that she was different. The rational part of Dane’s mind knew that her lack of reaction to his surprise visit wasn’t personal. It was just how she was. He knew it, Rose knew it, Tommy and Norah knew it. His father had known it. Dane often wondered how his father could bear to put up with the low moods and the almost-constant indifference, but every now and then she would show little snippets of personality and emotion. It seemed to Dane that his father had pandered to her, overcompensating for everything she’d been through with Arielle. They knew that she was that way because of Arielle. The shadows of her memory were always present, but rarely mentioned. As if pretending they didn’t feel the presence would lessen the heavy weight of their loss. The child in him just wanted his mother to forget her own feelings and show some excitement to see him, just for once.
He couldn’t help it when, feeling hurt and petulant, he opened his mouth and asked, “What were you doing on that bridge?”
“Just looking.” She said, not missing a beat.
“I thought you were going to jump for a moment.” Dane said flatly, hoping for, but not expecting, a reaction.
“Why would I do that?” She looked at Dane and a rare smile played at her lips. “It’s not real water.”
They fell into silence as he deliberated her ambiguous response.
“Remember when we got told off?” Dane said instead, something about the seeing the shadow of a joke from his mother made him desperate to see another emotion from her. “We were throwing things in, thinking it was a real river?”
He looked at her expectantly, but her eyes didn’t narrow as if searching her memory, nor did they light up with laughter. Her face remained passive.
“I don’t remember.”
Dane’s heart sank, and he wondered at what point he would give up trying and save himself the disappointment. They turned the corner to their glass and chrome apartment block. The elevator opened, recognising them, and they were whizzed up to their home. Dane waited for the door to slide open and his face lit up into a genuine smile when he saw the happy, shocked faces of the children.
“Dane!” The three of them barrelled forward towards him, throwing arms around him, whooping with delight and a rapid fire of questions followed. The voices overlapping and drowning each other out, until Dane held up a hand for quiet, throwing himself down into a seat.
“I’ll talk!” He protested. “But please can I get something to eat and drink first?”
Sadie, the family’s Attendant, had been hanging back, tactfully giving the family space to interact, but on hearing the command, she disappeared before returning quickly with a handful of pills and an energy-rich bar of oats and fruit. Dane thanked her, and the children gathered around him. He noted that Alyssa sat down, but a little further away.
He ate the food first, taking in how his sister, Rose, had changed since he’d seen her last. She had grown. She was taller than their mother now, but she bore a striking resemblance to their father, whereas Dane knew he had the tanned looks of Alyssa. Rose had lost the childish roundness to her face since he had seen her last. Now almost fifteen-years-old, she had sharp, angular features and her hair was a lighter brown and had grown past her shoulders. The sparkle that he loved about her was still there, evident in her hazel eyes that danced with excitement
as she kept firing questions at him, even as he ate.
Tommy had grown, too. He was ten-years-old, and he’d shot up in height. He was a moon-faced, serious-looking child, with pale, blue eyes and a mop of blonde hair. He had always been a quiet and studious boy, since he’d moved in to the Alexander’s home at the age of five. His sister, Norah, was almost identical to Tommy in looks, but her pale, blue eyes were never serious, always twinkling with mischief. She had been just a toddler when their mother had tragically died. The Alexanders were the only family she had ever known. He thought of the two children as much as siblings to him as Rose was, and when he was finished eating, he opened his arms again to them.
Norah, still a child, clung to him tightly, but Tommy and Rose, older now, settled back into their seats after they had hugged him. Dane wondered whether the last time they had received any affection had been his last visit, and his gaze fell to his mother, sat away from the group, conveniently looking away.
“Why didn’t you tell us you were coming home?” Norah asked.
Dane smoothed the child’s unruly blonde hair from her face. “It was all last-minute. I’ve been selected to join a new team and I start training as soon as I go back.”
“Wow!” Rose and Tommy looked impressed.
“What team?” Tommy asked. “It’s been all over the news about the awful things going on abroad.”
“Are you going to be sent overseas?” Rose asked, looking a little anxious.
Dane laughed and shook his head. “No, of course not. They don’t do things like that anymore. Apatia is the most advanced country in the world. We don’t invade countries like savages! And nobody would dare mess with us.”
He flexed a muscle jokingly to illustrate his point and Norah laughed happily.
Tommy and Rose still looked doubtful.
“I’ll be part of a special force,” He said. “That’s all I can tell you, but it’ll be awesome.”
“How long will you be staying home?” Rose asked.