I was about two-thirds away from my destination when the ATV finally died its true death, or at least that’s what the map led me to believe.
“Damn.” I sighed, looking around at this foreign landscape. It sank in pretty quickly that I would be walking from here on out, which made me think this would be a good time to rest before continuing on.
After deciding to park the ATV through a gap in the nearby bushes, I pushed it a few yards down to where the foliage was thicker and would block its view from the road. Then I pulled the sleeping bag out along with a few supplies, and nestled up behind it as best I could. All day I hadn’t been able to get my mind to shut off, but thankfully as soon as my head hit the ground, my thoughts stilled and the world around me became a distant blur.
* * *
Sometime in the early morning hours, before the break of dawn, I woke to the sounds of a farmer coaxing his herd of cattle across the dirt road. Still slightly groggy and not wanting to chance being seen by the wrong person, I silently wedged myself between the ATV and a large bush. It was a good while before they made their way through the opposite field and down the hill, which gave me time to fully wake up. Once they were out of sight, I grabbed my backpack, combined it with the survival bag, and threw it over my shoulders, feeling more refreshed and continuing my trek north.
The day slowly ticked by. While yesterday had gone much faster, what with me only having to steer the ATV, now my aching feet felt every second of every minute as I forced myself to keep moving forward.
Hours later, the sun finally began its descent, sliding lower into the horizon until it fell completely behind the trees, leaving only a dimly lit sky and a chill in the early evening air. Luckily, I still hadn’t had any run-ins with soldiers, but I’d covered a lot of miles on this old dirt road, and I couldn’t keep the thoughts of my family out of my head. I kept flip-flopping between drowning in heartache and going completely numb. I really needed to get myself together before I reached Councilman Montgomery’s compound where all the Gunari Warriors trained. I needed them to see me as strong and capable, someone who was willing to do anything to get her family back. Not some grief-stricken young girl.
This deserted one lane road seemed to go on forever and with the light fading around me, I felt my exhaustion from the day creeping up on me. I was pushing myself too much mentally and physically. So much so that when a strange sensation came over me, both my knees buckled and took me to the ground.
Disoriented and off-kilter, I picked myself up and walked over to a small clearing where a single tree marked the entrance to another narrower dirt road that intersected the one I was on. The tree had a symbol carved in the bark in the shape of a T. I reached up to touch the indentation with my fingertips. When I made contact with the top of the mark, a flood of emotions rushed through me: Loneliness. Fear. Anxiety. Need. Love. Happiness.
It was all so vivid, so fierce. I shut my eyes as an array of colors mingled back and forth behind my eyelids. They started intertwining, weaving in and out of each other in an intricate pattern until they finally fused together and vanished back into the darkness. That brought on a new, much stronger emotion; something that confused and overwhelmed me. Something that I’d only ever remembered feeling once before when I was a child. When I’d met him.
Hiding behind a bush, I watch Keegan sword fighting with a boy about his age; acting like the Gunari Warriors who protect our people in the Outerlands. His opponent lunges, causing Keegan to retreat and hold his stance, awaiting the boy’s next move.
“Nice, but not good enough,” the boy says. He lunges again but mid-swing, stops short as if in pain.
“What is it, Graff?” my brother asks, walking over to him.
The boy slowly turns his head in my direction, a shocked expression on his face. His stare is so intent it burns through me but instead of confusion, I feel a sense of peace. Neither of us speaks. On my part it’s because I can’t. I’m too mesmerized, staring into green eyes that have a blue outer ring exactly like mine. There is knowledge in them I don’t quite understand.
“Hey, brat,” my brother says, interrupting the connection. I reluctantly force my focus away from the boy and toward Keegan as he continues. “You know you’re not allowed this far from home.”
Unsure of how to respond, I take one last look at the boy across the lake before running back through the woods toward home.
Wrenching my eyes open, I pushed myself off the tree to break whatever stranglehold the carving had over me. Then I took a few steps back just to be safe. I’d heard of magical lo-points the more advanced Gunari used to communicate with one another, but had never come into contact with one myself.
My hands shook as I pulled the sector map out of my back pocket and studied the entire thing top to bottom. The road I was considering going down went all the way around the base of the mountain to some little hole-in-the-wall village. Then it kept going on toward the Flux and Industrial City. Not really where someone wanted to go when traveling alone. However, the map showed that from the small village, the road forked again, going straight up into the mountains where the Gunari compound sat high on a nearby ridge. There was a niggling in the back of my mind to choose this route over the one I was on; it made sense in a way. One, it was more direct—though the downside was that part of the mountain was steeper to climb—but two, it would keep me off the larger main roads that most people, including possibly soldiers, used.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I stuffed the map back into my pocket and started down the side road, praying that I’d made the right call.
* * *
Reaching a dead end just as the sun set left me in a moment of pitch black and I breathed in deep, trying not to panic. A few seconds passed and over to the right of the road, twenty or so poles supporting solar lanterns flickered on. They lit an area with several small, single story buildings, a general store, and a stable for horses. Directly across from the stable was what looked like a rundown hotel and somehow I knew that was where I needed to go. The building was two stories, L-shaped, and dilapidated. It also had several hanging lanterns strewn about.
An overhead sign at the front entrance read “Macon’s Tavern”. Nailed to the door was a large government-issued flyer that stated ‘Anyone who dares to criticize the government will be prosecuted for SEDITION’. Next to the flyer was a larger poster with photos of all four of the Outerlands Council members, including my father. There was a red X marked through Henry Attwater from Sector Four and Colm Braden from the Southern Sector.
“They didn’t waste any time,” I whispered, and cringed at the thought of not knowing whether my father’s photo would soon bare an X as well.
Farther down the door was an older poster with photographs all bearing the same symbol. My eyes fastened on the faded photo of a woman with dark hair. Overwhelming sadness filled my heart as I recognized my mother. I softly ran my fingertips over it. A memory flashed before my eyes of her singing while braiding my hair. It only lasted a second, but it was as if I was right there, hearing her voice and feeling her touch. I’d never had such a vivid memory of her before.
As my fingertips left the flyer, reality returned. Raucous laughter from inside the tavern caught my attention. Looking one last time at the photo of my mother, I realized that I too wanted to rage against the government for all the injustice inflicted upon our people.
Taking a deep breath, I forced my gaze away from the poster and focused on the door itself, debating whether I should actually go in. At the same time, the sensations I’d felt when I touched the carving from earlier came back with a force and I stumbled over my own feet as I pushed through the door.
Chapter Five
The tavern smelled of stale ale, smoke, and something else I didn’t want to think too much on. Although with a quick scan of the room, I noticed it didn’t seem to bother any of the other patrons.
Three men stood along the bar, shouting profanities at each other. They slammed their hands on
the counter and downed their shots, all while the bartender continuously refilled them. Eight more sat at a table in the back of the room, a half-naked woman on each of their laps while they engaged in some sort of card game. Another two men sat across from one another at a table to the left of the front door, seemingly keeping to themselves. The only open seats were three booths that lined the opposite wall.
My eyes flitted to the left side of the room where a man walked with his arm wrapped around a woman in only a jeweled bra and skintight shorts as he playfully tugged her up the stairs until they disappeared around the landing. This definitely wasn’t somewhere I wanted to be for very long.
Momentarily distracted by what this place really was, I began to concentrate on the reason I’d come. The weird sensations had become stronger since walking through the door, but since I didn’t want to make a scene by standing alone in the doorway as I checked everyone out, I decided to take a seat at the farthest booth in the back where I could remain somewhat hidden and also position myself near the back exit.
I turned sideways, placing my back against the wall and looking up just as the burly man from behind the bar stepped up to my table. His face was long with angular cheeks and a crooked nose that stuck out from his face. But his blue eyes sparkled, making me think he was younger than his tattered appearance portrayed.
“Name’s Macon,” he said in a low, wheezy voice. “Have to say, sweet cheeks, you look a little lost. And honestly, I’m not sure this establishment will have anything you’re after.” He motioned to the stairs, adding, “Unless you want a piece of what’s going on up there.”
I bristled and the small fear of being here alone came back to me. He gave me a knowing smile and took my initial silence as an opportunity to look me over. Creep. Forcing down my anxiety when I noticed him staring at the chain around my neck, I narrowed my eyes and pulled up the hem of my shirt to better conceal the medallion.
“Just some water please,” I told him, thankful when my voice didn’t waiver. “Then I’ll be on my way.” After another moment of blatant staring, he inclined his head and walked back over to the bar. While I waited, I scooted to the other side of the booth and studied the details of the room the way my brother had taught me.
The first of the two men up front had his hat pulled down low and his back to me so I couldn’t make out any of his features. His companion across from him was facing me though, and he looked lean but muscular. His hair and skin were both on the darker side, and when he smiled at something the other guy said, it lit up his green eyes. Staring between the two, something seemed slightly familiar but before I could focus any further on them, the bartender clanked down a couple of shots on the bar for two new men that had just walked into the tavern. They were loud and boisterous, both older with graying hair and I studied them a few moments before realizing the pull I felt before had lessened. So I decided to move on to the eight men in the back, but they didn’t do anything for me either. In fact, I could barely feel any sensation at all.
I turned back to the front table and concentrated on those two men again, letting everything else fade. The pull toward them gradually became stronger, especially when I focused specifically on the one with the hat. My emotions became scattered but more intense—to the point my breath hitched. A second later, I watched his entire body tense. Then he leaned over to his friend, whose eyes immediately did a quick sweep of the place. When they landed on me, he seemed to register something but quickly moved over the rest of the bar and then settled back on his friend.
Hat guy turned slightly my way. He wore a black ball cap which concealed most of his dark hair, a plain black jacket, and from what I could tell from his sitting position, dark grey or black cargos. Nothing in his attire set him apart from any of the other men, but he had broad shoulders and there was confidence in his posture. The few days’ worth of scruff on his face made me think he was used to shaving but had forgone his normal routine.
He adjusted his hat then tilted his head up to meet my gaze. It was the first time I could truly see his face and was shocked at what I found. He had piercing green eyes with a blue ring around the outer edges. Just. Like. Mine.
He stood and said something to his friend before throwing money down on the table, but my view of him was cut off when the bartender chose that moment to drop off my water.
“Uh, thank you,” I said, innocently smiling up at the barkeep before I took the glass and downed its entire contents in one gulp, only then registering my achy limbs and how much the walk had taken out of me.
“It’s on the house, sweet cheeks,” he said with a wink, acting like he’d just handed me a scorching hot meal.
“Gee, thanks,” I muttered sarcastically, although I knew I should be more grateful since clean water was becoming a lot scarcer around these parts.
“Sure thing. And hey, maybe you can make it up to me. Come up to the bar for a bit; we can get to know each another a little better. I might even have some side work for you, if you catch my drift.” The tone of his voice matched his creepy leer, and his hand came down to rest on my shoulder. I opened my mouth to politely decline when a loud growl came from over the bartender’s shoulder.
Hat guy suddenly appeared, pushing the bartender none too gently away from my table, and I watched wide-eyed as the creep all but quivered, running back to hide behind the bar. It was then I noticed the room had gone eerily quiet; my cheeks reddened when I glanced around to find everyone’s eyes were on us.
My defender threw a glare over his shoulder and everyone immediately went back to whatever conversations they were having before. Then, grabbing a nearby chair, he swung it around and straddled the seat before folding his arms across its back.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded, and I met his incredulous stare with one of my own.
I took in more of his features and uttered the name of the only other person I’d ever met with eyes exactly like mine: my brother’s friend and nephew to Council Leader Jonas Montgomery. “Graff?”
His right hand flew out and latched onto my shirt, pulling me to the center of the table, his face serious as it closed in to meet my frightened eyes. “Keep your voice down, sweetheart,” he whispered, breath hot against my ear. If his gaze wasn’t confirmation enough, his reaction to saying his name surely was.
Releasing my shirt, he grabbed my bare hand, sending a small shock of electricity through my fingertips and up my arm. We both jolted back and the surprise I felt was plastered all across his face. Hmm. So he felt that, too. But it didn’t make him let go. In fact, he tightened his grip, and after a minute of stunned silence his face became a blank canvas once again.
“You’re sort of hurting my hand,” I whimpered, feeling the loss of blood.
He looked down to our joined hands and released them before his eyes returned to mine. “I’ll ask again. What are you doing here, in this town and in this tavern?” His voice was so low I barely heard him.
“My brother sent me to find Councilman Montgomery. It’s vital that I be taken to him immediately.”
“Where is Keegan?” he asked. “I find it hard to believe he sent you here without him tagging along as your escort.”
At the mention of my brother’s name, I paled, making Graff tense. I shook my head, staying mute so he would understand the seriousness of the situation.
“You’re not going to tell me what’s going on, are you?” he whispered, mostly to himself. Then his words became louder and somewhat curt as he addressed me. “So you’re alone then?” When I nodded, he continued. “All right. Get up. Our vehicles are out back. Let’s get you to my uncle so we can figure out what the hell is going on.”
Relieved, but still shaken from our conversation and the fact that I was actually talking to the Graff Montgomery, I managed to get myself to a standing position just as Graff’s friend from the front table walked over to join us.
“Well, hello darlin’. I’m Rafe,” his friend said, slapping Graff on the back. When
Graff didn’t acknowledge him and only stiffened before storming off toward the rear door without a backward glance, Rafe grinned. “I knew when I first spotted you that you’d be trouble.” He raised a challenging eyebrow.
Letting out a nervous laugh, I ignored his comment and introduced myself. “Henley,” I said and extended my hand to greet him. He disregarded it, taking me off guard when he slung his arm over my shoulder as if we were old friends.
“Okay then, Henley. What do you say we catch up with the boss man and see what he plans to do with you now that he’s found you?”
Having no idea what he meant by that, I let Rafe pull me out the back door and watched as his grin widened to take over his entire face.
Chapter Six
We exited the back of the tavern and found Graff speaking with one of the gray haired men from the bar and two girls next to a rigged up jeep. One of the girls was tall, probably close to six foot, with thick blond hair and brilliant green eyes the same shade that Rafe and so many other Outerlands people had. The second girl had red hair cropped at an angle to her chin, but her back was to me so I couldn’t make out any more than that.
When we walked toward them they stopped mid-conversation to look up, all their attention on me. Graff motioned to an old white ATV and instructed the man to return it to the compound and report his findings to Jonas.
As soon as he drove off, the tall blond took a step in my direction. Her hands were fisted at her sides and her red lips curled into a deep frown, standing out against her creamy white complexion. Her nostrils flared and her cheeks flushed. Although I’d never met this girl before, the snide look she gave me made me think I’d wronged her in some way.
The Outerlands - Sedition Page 3