18 Walls

  “I’m afraid to lose you too,” she whispers.

  “But?” My voice is shaky.

  “But we have to do this. If we don’t, there might not even be a future for us to live in.”

  “Yeah,” I mumble.

  “Well then, good night. We’ve got a long day tomorrow.”

  Her voice is unnaturally high pitched. She jumps off the hood of the vehicle and vanishes inside. I should be keeping watch, but all I can think about is that kiss. Is this love? Affection? Was this what Rick had asked me about all those months ago before we got our Extensions?

  As expected, I don’t get so much as a wink of sleep throughout the night. The hours painstakingly pass by. My thoughts gradually begin to drift to the doomed soldiers we left behind at the war zone. A realisation pops into my mind. Those soldiers aren’t the only ones who’re part of the damned. There’s still us.

  20

  The first thing I see in the morning is Ivy’s smug face. I’ve no idea what she’s so proud of until she pouts her lips and makes a smooching sound. Shit. I feel the heat rising up my collar.

  “You were watching.”

  “I was going to inform you that we’d be arriving at our destination today. But when I saw the both of you engaged so…so passionately, I was loath to butt in, so I decided to leave you in peace. Still, it was a good show.”

  “Why, thank you so much for your consideration.” I roll my eyes. “Please forget what you saw.”

  “Nope. No can do.”

  “Should’ve known.”

  “What, were you really expecting me to…”

  She bursts into peals of laughter, unable to complete her sentence as she takes in the spectacle that is my flustered face. I can almost still feel Raine’s lips, the warmth when we…you know. The more I think about it, the redder I get. A tickled Ivy isn’t helping matters.

  “But seriously, are the two of you gonna get together?”

  “Get together?” I echo.

  “Marry. Have kids. You know, live happily ever after.” She twirls her fingers, her eyebrows bouncing suggestively.

  “I don’t know,” I frown. “The mission comes first. I’ll think about that later. If there is one.”

  “Interesting,” she muses, studying the expression on my face. “Yep, I did have you pegged as that type…yeah… Raine probably is too.”

  “You’ve spoken to Raine?”

  “Nope,” she says lightly. “But she’s already prepared and waiting in the vehicle. We’d better hurry up.”

  She’s right. We don’t have time to be sitting around. We tidy up and board the vehicle. Raine is in the backseat. She gives me a polite nod when I enter. She’s acting pretty normal, as though last night hadn’t happened. I’m relieved, but at the same time, kind of disappointed. My heart is pounding faster than an eight-year-old kid at a whack-a-mole game and there she is, acting so normal. No matter how much I try to focus, I can’t help feeling nervous around her. In this manner, I spend the better part of the afternoon fidgeting in my seat, constantly bothered by my frayed nerves. Fortunately, Ivy is riding shotgun, her attention focused on the road ahead for the most part. Occasionally, however, her eyes flick over to the front mirror and I catch a ghoulish grin on her face. Definitely not helping.

  “All right, stop. This is far enough.” I reach over and tap Max on the shoulder. “Thanks for everything. There should be enough gas for you to get back while avoiding the war zones.”

  Max snuffs out the cigarette he’d been smoking, steps forward and shakes my hand firmly. Something unsaid passes between us. We part ways, leaving all our food rations in the vehicle. All we have with us are our uniforms, haversacks and our weapons.

  About half an hour and two kilometres later, a military base comes into sight. It’s different from the one we were at, the one with Ulas in charge. We get within a hundred metres of the base before we’re forced to a halt, facing a squadron of guards. Our weapons are confiscated and we’re thoroughly searched.

  “Who are you and where are you from?” a guard barks.

  “Squad 72,” I reply without hesitation. “We were captured but managed to escape. The bracelets on our wrists and the detonator you just took are proof.”

  Hushed whispers are exchanged amongst the guards. One of them radios for further instructions. He frowns. Something isn’t right. He seems to be arguing with someone over the radio. In the end, he sighs, defeated.

  “Take them back to Base 1, Pangaea,” he orders reluctantly.

  Base 1. That’s where we were trained. We’re going home. If that can be called a home. It’s obvious that the guards don’t trust us. But since they’ve received the order from their superiors, they return our weapons and usher us into a vehicle. The vehicle takes us past the 18 walls, right into the heart of our military base.

  “Go to room fifty-nine,” a guard says, squinting suspiciously at us. “You should know the way there, right? If you’re indeed who you say you are.”

  With me in the lead, we proceed. Despite what he said, the guard escorts us, knocking reverently on the door when we arrive. He enters the room first, salutes and greets someone inside before beckoning us in. Then, he leaves, shooting us one final glare as he disappears down the corridor.

  “Resh called. Come on in, you little pieces of shit.”

  I can’t believe my ears. The voice is all too familiar. Idphor sits at a table, his boots resting on the tabletop.

  “It’s you?!” I ask incredulously. “Resh was talking about you?”

  “What the heck?” Raine exclaims, even louder than I did.

  “Got a problem with that, little shit with the horrible attitude? You bastards have no idea how troublesome it was to stake out those three military bases for a week. You could have been a little more specific on where you were gonna come from.”

  “So you knew about everything from the start? And you just kept quiet about knowing we were going to be screwed over once we left this place?”

  I’m tempted to punch him in the liver.

  “Honestly, it was hard,” he admits. “I wanted to strangle you damn kids with my bare hands so you wouldn’t go out there and make the same mistakes I did. But I couldn’t let anyone find out about my true identity. If I did, I’d be tortured and killed within seconds. At least I’m still useful this way.”

  His eyes flick over to Ivy.

  “And who the hell are you?”

  “Ivy, sir. Ex-Squad Fifty-Seven. I’ve been in their care.”

  “Yeah, fine, whatever. If it weren’t for that short bastard, I wouldn’t even be here.”

  “Resh?”

  “Who else?” Idphor grimaces. “I owe him a little favour.”

  His eyes fix on me.

  “So?” he raises an eyebrow. “Where the hell is the rest of your squad?”

  He sees the look on our faces and his gaze softens. It takes me the rest of the day to tell him everything.

  “That’s unfortunate,” Idphor sniffs. “And to think you’d return with a plan like that. Really warms the recesses of my cold-ass heart. Anyway, the Captain’s speech will take place in about a week’s time. So keep a low profile and use this room for the time being. You can get clothes and whatever else you need from the warehouse. If you mess up, even someone like me won’t be able to help you.”

  He walks out of the room, pausing to squeeze April on the shoulder. He must have known from her expression that she’s the hardest hit amongst the lot of us. Seems like that asshole isn’t as cold-hearted as I thought. We settle into the room. There are five beds, more than enough for the four of us. Ivy marches over to the beds, ushers April onto one and proceeds to spread her stuff over another three.

  “Uh, in case you couldn’t count, there are four people here,” Raine points out carefully.

  “What,” she replies innocently. “You and Ren can share the last one, no?”

  Raine takes a deep breath. “You’re going to be the first one to die before the plan even beg
ins.”

  She isn’t listening. She’s too busy laughing at us. I look away and try my best to feign disinterest in the entire matter. At length, she finally takes pity on me and concedes.

  “You got to admit, it was pretty funny,” she says as she moves her stuff to accommodate us.

  “Yeah, yeah, laugh while you still can. I’m seriously considering sewing your mouth shut while you sleep,” Raine threatens.

  Her laughter is infectious. Eventually, I find myself smiling, despite trying my very best to keep a stern face. Raine, who’s also holding back a smile, goes to wash up. We follow suit. The lights are switched off punctually at 10. Old habits die hard, you know.

  “Uh, guys,” April’s voice rings out through the darkness. “Do you mind accompanying me somewhere tomorrow? There’s a place I have to visit but I’m not really good with directions.”

  “Sure,” I say through a yawn.

  No one even bothers to ask where. That’s the kind of trust we have in one another. Ivy and Raine agree as well.

  Early next morning, after informing Idphor about our plans, we prepare to leave the military base. Idphor hands us each a card, granting us access back into camp when we return. Owing to our lack of civilian attire, we’re still dressed in the fatigues of our military.

  “Where are we headed?” Ivy asks curiously. “The city?”

  “The outskirts,” April corrects. “Close to the slums.”

  “Why?”

  “You’ll find out,” comes the cryptic response.

  We catch a bus, which drops us off somewhere near the edges of the city. It brings back memories of how we visited all those months ago. The bright lights, mere blurred orbs in my eyes, seem to pulse continuously. Raine’s blinking hard. It must have reminded her about her brother. I reach out, take hold of her hand and squeeze. She tenses up initially, then relaxes and leans her head on my shoulder.

  April takes us through a convoluted series of passages, staring at a sheet of paper while mumbling incoherently from time to time. The broken signboards tell us nothing. “asir Pnjang Rd,” one reads, a couple of letters having been rubbed off a long time ago. She’s following a map, I realise. Tucked into the crook of her arm is a thick stack of envelopes. We walk past a set of iron gates. Immediately, a sense of unease creeps up on me, as though we’re being watched. I take a curious glance around and see why. Deities. Hundreds of them. Once multicoloured, they stand silently at their posts, their sun-baked bodies whitened from years of weathering. Only their eyes seem as lively as ever, tracing our movements across the bumpy road. Some have abnormally long tongues, animal-like heads and other nightmarish features. I shiver. Fortunately, April quickly guides us out of there.

  “Let me see that,” I take the sheet of paper from her hands. “Ah…”

  Raine cranes her head over my shoulders to take a look. It’s indecipherable. I can’t even tell which parts are supposed to be the map. It’s as though a toddler scrawled on the piece of paper in a fit of rage. The only discernible marking is a red circle, in what looks like crayon, in the centre of the paper.

  “I think we should go straight and take a right two alleys down…” I frown.

  A canal. Its murky waters conceal the carpet of rotting rubbish which lines it, giving off a sharp, pungent odour.

  “I don’t suppose this is it?”

  April shakes her head.

  “Well, let’s back up and try a left…” I try again.

  A dead end. I’m no better at this than April is.

  “You guys suck,” Ivy sighs, snatching the map from me. “Lemme have a go.”

  Half an hour later, we’re back at the canal.

  “I don’t know if you’re navigating or sightseeing,” I comment dryly. “I’m pretty sure this isn’t supposed to be a sightseeing tour.”

  Raine takes a good hard look at the piece of paper.

  “I think that’s not a map,” she says slowly. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but it looks like that building over there, the one with a red circle spray painted over one of the doors.”

  She points. Our eyes flick from the piece of paper to the building, then back again. The roughly sketched squares and lines suddenly seem to fit together. Just a little. As one, we stare at her in awe, as though she’d just deciphered the Rosetta Stone.

  “Wow,” Ivy whispers to me. “I never knew she was that smart.”

  “I can hear you, you know,” she snaps.

  “Yeah,” Ivy grins cheekily. “You were meant to.”

  She backs away and Raine gives chase, with April and me following closely behind. We come to a halt in front of the building. It’s an old apartment block, nothing too grand, but at the very least, habitable. There were once potted plants lining the corridor, now mere skeletal remains of their former lush greenery.

  “Are we visiting someone?” Ivy asks.

  “Rick’s mother,” April finally reveals.

  Again, the name catches in her throat. Quite suddenly, the place seems a good few degrees colder. I’ve got plenty of questions, but the mood doesn’t feel right so I hold my tongue for the moment. We climb the stairs quietly, making our way to the door with the red circle. As I get nearer, I see that there’s more to it than meets the eye. Beneath the red is a layer of graffiti. Vulgarities. Messages from loan sharks. The door bears scars too, as if someone had hacked at it with a machete a long time ago. Swallowing hard, April knocks gently on the door. Within seconds, the door is flung open, revealing a woman. Her eyes are sunken, her hair a mess. Otherwise, she’s radiant in her old age.

  She sees us. She sees our uniforms. And she also sees that Rick isn’t with us. Her face crumples. She’s barely holding back her tears. She must know why we’re here. But she holds her silence and lets us explain.

  “Good afternoon, ma’am,” April begins slowly. “I’m from Squad Seventy-Two of the Armed Forces of Pangaea.”

  “Mrs Greenson,” the woman introduces herself tersely.

  “This is regarding your son, Rick,” April continues, beginning to choke on her words. “My condolences, Mrs Greenson, your son has passed away honourably on the…”

  She can’t go on any longer. The professional mask falls, revealing a girl mired in sorrow. Mrs Greenson breaks down too, her tears streaming endlessly down her face. Her legs give in and she collapses, only to be caught by April, who helps her inside.

  The apartment is rather bare, save a mattress, a bed and a dining table with two chairs. An open closet stands near the window, filled with sets of new clothes. The bed is untouched, the sheets pulled so tightly that not a single crease could be seen. The mattress lies on the floor beside the bed, with certain portions slightly sunken from years of human use.

  “I’m sorry,” Mrs Greenson sniffs, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. “I…I was a terrible mother. I used to drink heavily and…and I would…”

  Fresh tears begin pouring down her cheeks.

  “I have done nothing right for him. He must hate me, doesn’t he?” she weeps. “I wrote him letters…but…but he never replied…to a single one…I’m such a…useless mother. I couldn’t give him the…love he needed and now he…he’s gone…”

  “Mrs Greenson,” April says gently. “You’re wrong. He replied to every single letter you sent. He even kept a drawing of this building so that I could come here in his place.”

  She reaches for the stack of envelopes and pushes them across the table. I have to bite my tongue to keep from crying. Mrs Greenson stares at the envelopes with the eyes of a cornered animal. The only thing her son had left behind for her after seven long years.

  “He doesn’t hate me?” she whispers. “That can’t be.”

  “You sent him away so that he wouldn’t be affected by your habits, right?” April replies. “Sure, he grumbled all the time and sounded really bitter, but deep down, I think he understood. He wouldn’t have written all those letters if he didn’t.”

  “Thank you.”

  They read through the let
ters together. Midway, a tender red blush begins to spread across April’s face. Rick must’ve written something about her.

  “You’re April?”

  April nods shyly. She points to each of us and mentions our names.

  “If you would please excuse us, we’ll be waiting outside,” I bow my head and usher Raine and Ivy out of the apartment.

  There are things I want to say to Mrs Greenson, but I leave anyway, allowing them some privacy. Something’s bugging Raine, though. I can tell from the confused frown on her face.

  “Why the hell does she have a made-up bed and new clothes which she neither uses nor wears?” she hisses, the moment the door shuts behind us. “Couldn’t she have given them to…”

  “That’s exactly it,” I say, a troubled look on my face. “She did it all for her son who was so far away. She was waiting for him to return all this while.”

  The anger drains out of her and she simply stares at me as though I’d slapped her. There are tears in her eyes, but she stubbornly holds them in. After roughly an hour and a half, the marred door swings open. Out steps April, her eyes swollen and puffy from crying. Mrs Greenson looks no better. I take a step forward.

  “I’m sorry,” I begin. “It’s…”

  “Thank you.” Mrs Greenson clasps my hand tightly in hers. “Thank you for taking care of my son.”

  Her hands are warm. The same warmth her son brought to all of us. I swallow whatever words I was about to say and nod respectfully. We leave the place. Raine tears up. She can’t hold back any longer. I place my hand comfortingly on her shoulder. She shoots me a grateful look.

  We return to the military base in silence. Idphor doesn’t question us when we pass him the cards. He does, however, caution us to stay within the confines of the room unless absolutely necessary, the reason being that security has been exceptionally tight as a precaution for the Captain’s scheduled speech. Silently, we file into the room. I’m the last to enter, behind Raine, who uses her foot to hold the door open for me.