by Dawn Husted
The tallest one was a woman, and she stepped closer to me.
“What is your name, child?” the woman said, her voice refreshing, like a cup of coffee on the days you need it most. She had an irrefutably pleasant way about her and I instantly felt calmer, more at peace. Most of all, she didn’t appear to be a person with plans to kill me; her hands were locked gently behind her back, head tilted to one side as she spoke.
The two men on each side of her stood in a similar manner, eyes glued on me. They had on long sleeves and light colored pants.
“My name is Penny Evans,” I replied.
Then the woman nodded towards James lying on the ground.
“His name is James Garak.” I didn’t say anymore. I stood there with my arms at my side, chin out, shoulders back.
“We’ve decided to help him. If you will allow us to, we’ll take him to our healer,” she offered.
I wasn’t sure if we should be separated. What if getting us alone was exactly what they wanted? It didn’t seem like a good idea. However, I didn’t know what else to do. What other options did I have? Again, I found myself at the end of the road. I had no first-aid supplies and no choice but to accept their help.
“Okay.” A one-word answer was all I managed. She wasn’t aggressive, but I no longer knew which instincts to trust. So instead, I tried to be logical about the whole situation. At least as logical as I was able to be in a situation such as mine. There were two options: fight and lose against the massive amount of people probably waiting outside in case of an attack, or let them take James willingly, without causing an upheaval. Let them think I was good, someone who didn’t want them harmed. Which I didn’t. And I am. I just wanted this nightmare to be over.
The two men from either side of the lady walked over. In one swift motion, they picked James up and slowly carried him outside. As they passed, James’ jabbering had stopped again and my hands instinctively reached out for him, passing over his chest, unsure if he was going to make it.
I grabbed my pack and gun, and then followed the men outside. I passed in front of the lady and the man, both who stared at me as I went out the door. People with torches stood near our car and others walked down the trail in the direction of the dead bodies I had driven passed.
The people with the torches, near the car, were inspecting it; a couple of people clamored around inside with the trunk open. I wasn’t sure how they opened anything without using the fingers, which were still inside my pack. Four people held torches around the outside of the vehicle, and two legs wiggled out from underneath. The urge to yell, to tell them to stop hunting around, crossed my mind, but I decided against any demands and held it together. I bottled my emotions inside a small box inside my head.
I turned to my right and the two men carrying James disappeared around the corner. I forgot to keep walking once the torches caught my eye.
I took a step forward towards the corner, and a hand gently pulled back on my shoulder.
“Penny,” the woman said from behind me. “My name is Camara. Follow me.”
I hesitated in the direction of the two men and then followed Camara instead. Being fickle in my situation wouldn’t help me appear competent or strong, as if I knew what I was doing. I followed with ease, without looking back. Inside, however, I was a time bomb.
Chapter Five
Camara led me in between homes. We passed a few torches sticking tall out of the ground. The houses all appeared alike in structure, built with fabric, however, sturdier than mere material in the wind. The cloth along the exterior barely moved in the breeze. Sweat dried along my face as it rose to the surface of my skin. My eyes constantly moved in every direction, fearful someone might jump out, grab me from behind.
Camara’s feet stopped at the entrance of a house, two torches placed strategically outside the door. Each held a strand of beads wrapped around the middle with a charm dangling off the center.
“Follow me.” Camara glanced over her shoulder in my direction and I followed her through the curtained entrance. As I walked in, a small woman walked swiftly from a room. Behind me, there was a corner filled with handmade vases stacked on top of one another, leading from the floor all the way to the ceiling. I realized the vases looked familiar; I had seen a few around the Colony here and there. They must be something the Lowers used for trade. The roof and walls had been lined with wood, something I didn’t notice in the last house.
The woman’s cheeks were flushed and the section below her eyes puffy, filled with tears creeping to make their silent exit. She moved quickly, putting cups and plates up where they belonged, sweeping her hand along the cabinets, and clearing off the dust.
I wasn’t sure why Camara brought me here.
“Hello Sidnee, this here is Penny. Did Zane fill you in?” Camara softly asked the woman.
“Yes, she’ll be staying…in there.” The woman pointed to her left and went back into the room she had just walked from. Again, I followed Camara into the room. I was unsure why I hadn’t put a stop to the confusing hospitality; I simply wanted James to get better so we could leave.
As we entered, a large dog with snow-white hair and piercing, golden eyes laid at the foot of a bed. His furry, over-fluffed body didn’t move and his eyes turned slightly towards the three of us. The wooden bed was small, covered with white sheets and a folded-up blanket at the head. It was the only large piece of furniture in the room. The walls were uncluttered, except for one picture hanging in the center—a sketch of a boy drawn on rustic paper inside a black frame. The dark edges of the boy’s face were smeared on purpose from an artist’s fingers, his eyes round and full of life, his hair cut short around his jawbone. Vibrant colors were nonexistent; there didn’t need to be any. Life jumped from every detail and tiny crease around his smile to the small birthmark on his neck. No vines.
“That is my little boy, Jace,” the woman said, pointing to the picture on the wall. She barely finished speaking before the puffy sections released their tears, overflowing her cheeks. The whites of her eyes masked with red, branchy veins, and the look on her face desperate, reminding me of my mom this morning. She traced the boy’s wide cheeks with the tips of her fingers, then cleared her throat and looked over at me.
“This is where you’ll be sleeping. This room is open…now. If you need anything, please ask.”
With that, Camara and Sidnee exited the room.
I walked closer to the picture and studied the drawing more. A low humph came from the dog. I had never been around a pet before. This was new territory for me. I read about them, pets, but we weren’t allowed to have any inside the Colony.
I sauntered closer and lowered my hand, but a low growl escaped from the side of his lips and I pulled my hand back immediately.
“Well, let’s just hope you don’t kill me in my sleep. Okay?” I said. His pointy ears stuck up in reply.
I put my backpack beside me on the bed and blew out the only candle lit in the room. Then I closed my eyes, my brain completely dead from the night’s events.
For hours, I laid there with my arms folded; my feet had little room to move with the dog sturdy in his spot. I didn’t move either. I was hopeful that if I could stay in one position long enough, I’d eventually fall asleep.
Another hour passed, the thought of my parents heavy, and I wondered if they were okay. Surely they were alive. Maybe taken to the Academy?
Or maybe they were still at home, speculating if I lived. If only I could get a message to them, let them know I was alive. By now, they would’ve heard about us stealing the car and James killing that guy, cutting off his fingers, and shooting the other one.
We wouldn’t last long here in the Lowers, but I didn’t know where else to go. With no way around the perimeter, except for the Academy, what were the options? The Academy was the only place where the perimeter opened up—through the port into the ocean. The rest was secure—no way out, no way in. It was built to keep us safe years ago when the land was settled. And i
t wasn’t an easy task back then. There were a multitude of deaths and many people fighting for the upper hand. People have always been anything but peaceful. Finally, when the perimeter was built, the population divided itself into two sections, the Lowers and the Colony.
Everything has been safe ever since.
I tried compartmentalizing my thoughts, knowing there was nothing I could do right now. The only thing I could conclude, James and I had to figure a way back to President Falcon. Explain our situation. Plead for innocence. And then I’d be able to worry about my parents. Yes, that’s what we would do.
Just then, the image of my sister took precedent over all the other thoughts. I couldn’t leave her behind, for whatever reason, wherever she was, I had to find her. I couldn’t go back. My father wouldn’t have risked his own life if he didn’t think it was necessary.
The next morning I woke up tired, feet warm from the dog. She hadn’t moved all night. I sat up, gradually bringing my right hand towards her back.
Again, a low growled vibrated.
Humph.
“Well then,” I said. “I thought dogs were supposed to be man’s best friend?”
I tried to slide my fingers through my hair, feeling the nest on top of my head. When I grabbed a change of clothes from home, unfortunately, I didn’t pack a brush. So I sat and separated the strands best I could manually and grabbed my backpack.
When I walked into the main living area, there was nobody there. I paced outside and around a few houses until I came to a small clearing. Tons of people were sitting on benches placed in a huge circle. In the center of the circle laid eight bodies, each wrapped in black fabric, their faces the only exposed part. The bodies laid beside one another on top of an organized flat of wood. Beads, vases, and other trinkets dangled around them on the same sticks I’d seen earlier protruding from the ground.
I could only assume they were the bodies I saw driving here last night. The difference—their vines had been removed.
I walked closer to the group. Most people sat on the benches, a few were standing. All of them ate oatmeal with steam floating and hovering above the bowls. Everyone was quiet, the air wet with humidity, filling every inch of space around the small village.
Finally, I saw Sidnee. She was eating alone on the ground next to the bodies.
I stood beside her.
“Hello, Penny.” Her position was still, unmoving, hands grasped tightly around the bowl of oatmeal. I was unsure if I should talk back. This was a personal moment for her.
“It’s okay, really,” she said breaking her gaze and looking up at me.
“I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say. “Were they close friends of yours?” And why are you mourning the people you killed? I didn’t speak that last thought aloud.
Sidnee patted the ground next to her and asked me to sit.
I did.
Her legs propped underneath her as she sat on her knees and I copied her position. A little trick I learned from my dad; if you imitate the one you’re talking with, they’ll genuinely connect with you easier.
“The one right over there,” she said, pointing to the third body, a man. His hair shaved off, stubble barely noticeable beneath the surface. In fact, all the bodies were bald. However, the man’s rough jawline and broad build left no question to whether he was a male or female.
“That’s my husband,” she said.
I was no more than a foot away from her. Her eyes never left the body as she talked, hands still clutching the bowl of oatmeal, cheeks absent from any tears.
The sunlight was hazy, but I realized Sidnee did have vines. However, they were lighter in color and covered up by some sort of paint the same color of her fair skin. Not only were her vines masked, she also wore a long-sleeve, handmade shirt.
I looked around; everyone’s clothes covered the majority of their skin.
I leaned in a little closer to the bodies nearest to me.
The first body’s face had the same paint as Sidnee, just darker. His vines barely showed through, and if I hadn’t had the dawn’s light and the mind to examine their skin, I wouldn’t have noticed they had vines at all. I was careful not to touch them, not wanting to offend anyone watching. But it did make a little more sense now, because I knew I’d seen a few Lowers in the Colony, and they always had vines. They must wipe the paint off before coming that direction?
I ran my fingers along Sidnee’s face but quickly brought my hand back, feeling bad about my uncontrolled impulse. I didn’t ordinarily go around touching people.
“It’s okay,” she said.
I couldn’t stop staring at her and at everyone else around.
“But why?” I asked.
“Why don’t we show our vines?” she replied.
“Well yes, why wouldn’t you want to? It’s a…I don’t understand. The vines show your strength, show where you stand in regards to everyone else. How well you can handle yourself. The gifts you’re born with.”
“That’s something you’ll have to find out for yourself,” she responded.
I exhaled, sinking further down onto my legs, not seeing how her answer helped me any.
I felt a heavy presence walk up behind me and instantly I ducked my head.
“Hey Penny,” a man’s voice bellowed from above.
I swung my head around. James’ happy face, vines and all, smiled back at me.
I stood up and gave him the biggest hug, his bare chest and woundless stomach open to the elements—shirtless. I examined the area where the gunshot was; it appeared completely healed. He was warm and I sunk my full weight into his arms. Now that he was better, I had many questions. Where did they take him? Who was the healer they spoke of?
“I woke up this morning… They gave me something to help me sleep while the regenerating process took place after the removal of the bullet.” He arched his back and twisted his arms side to side, stretching his muscles. “Good as new,” he grinned.
I wasn’t sure where to begin first. What was the reasoning for all this in the first place? Why did you attack those guards? Was it necessary? Were my parents okay? What does he know that I don’t? The questions flooded my mind and I couldn’t focus on which to ask first.
“Why?” I blurted out quietly. “Why did all of this happen?”
“First Penny, let’s get something to eat and then we’ll talk,” he replied.
Thinking about it, my stomach was empty and I knew he needed to eat after all the regenerating. “Okay.”
We walked over to the table. A large silver pot filled with oatmeal steamed and I grabbed a small bowl off the side. We both slopped a few scoops in before walking over to the outer edge of the circle, beyond the benches and the Lowers.
James began whispering, “Look Penny, I don’t trust these people. I never have. We need to get out of here.”
“Where else are we supposed to go? I can’t go back home. And… I have to find my sister,” I said.
James’ head popped up with confusion by my sudden mention of Madeline. I never told him about that part of my life, never knowing there was much to tell.
He shook his head. “No, I know we can’t go home. That’s not what I’m saying. We have to find a way over the perimeter.”
I started laughing, but he wasn’t joking.
“That’s suicide, James. We both know there’s no way over it. You’ll be fried before your body hits the ground on the other side.”
“How do you know?” he asked.
I thought about his question for a brief moment. “Well, I don’t. But we’ve both been told exactly what the perimeter is and to stay away from it for a reason.” I scooped a bite of warm oatmeal into my mouth and sloshed it around.
“Exactly. How will we know until we get there? It’s our only option,” he whispered.
However, I wasn’t sure if it was our only option. “Maybe we could hide out in the wilderness for a while?” That was a stupid idea, but so was the perimeter.
I to
ok another bite, realizing my identification card had been dangling in my bowl.
“Your ID, you still have it?” he asked.
“Of course, where else would it be? I have it on me at all times.”
“Give it to me right now. If they haven’t tracked us yet, they will very soon.”
He grabbed my ID and slipped it off from over my head.
“What are you talking about?” I asked
“I thought I told you to toss it out the window last night.” James rubbed his forehead. “I guess I was more out of it than I thought. I’m surprised the gun shot affected me so easily. Listen, I’m going to take your ID and then I’ll be back. There are trackers in these; we have to get rid of it,” he warned, and then he jogged into the tree line surrounding the village. Branches and bushes flung around his body as he disappeared into the dewy thickness.
Even though none of the Lowers acted like they heard any of our conversation, I knew they did. Now that I was positive they had vines just like us, it would be irrational for me to think none of them had hearing capabilities like James.
Chapter Six
I finished my last drop of oatmeal and went back for more when the weather began changing. The humidity sucked away into the clouds and the fog vanished. Tips of trees bent from wind gusting about; leaves and dirt tossed in circles like dozens of tiny cyclones.
My empty bowl was in my hands and I looked up in the sky. In the near distance, large, gray clouds were rolling in. Just then, the table holding the bowls fell over from the weight of the wind thrusting against it, utensils scattered across the ground and crashed against the dirt.
Lowers scrambled, picking up bowls and pots and moving the breakfast into a tiny, nearby house.
The storm was moving swiftly, ghastly clouds almost directly overhead.
I hope James is okay.
I helped pick up the fallen bowls, ran them inside the house, and sat them down next to the rearranged breakfast. People disappeared in and out, gathering more supplies. I squeezed by the door, slipping into the stormy weather. The area where everyone once gathered was now empty; most everyone went back into their own homes to wait out the weather. The only person still sitting on the ground next to the bodies was Sidnee—by her husband.