It had taken a considerable amount of will power to get the words out. And looking back it all seemed so ridiculous when spoken aloud.
Rebels? Missions? Betrayal ending in murder? If it didn't hurt so much I would have laughed.
It sounded like the stories I used to read. The ones we'd hidden away from the prying hands of the rest of Palla. I'd always wanted a story like that. Without fail, they always ended in happiness. The main character got; their freedom, the boy, the girl, or the world was saved.
Now I just wished I was still that little girl dreaming of peace and freedom. It felt like there was no possible way either of those things could be achieved now.
I saw the look in Rae's eyes as he learnt the truth about the rest of the world. I saw the anger, the pain. I could remember the feeling like a punch to the stomach. Nobody really seemed to care about us. This little community out in the middle of a battlefield. And the only ones who'd shown any semblance of care had turned around and murdered more people than they'd saved.
Including my own brother.
I was still unable to voice what I'd seen. What'd really happened. I didn't know if I'd ever be able to.
It was weird to be back. I couldn't deny it. Even after everything else that had happened. Maybe that only made it weirder. I felt like I'd walked back into a nightmare. It was infinitely better than the hell I had come from, but it still hurt. The ash that floated in the air and settled over us when Gabby and I had gotten closer to the borders of Palla. The thickness in my throat whenever I tried to breathe, built from the dirt and dust that was constantly disrupted by gunfire and explosions.
But regardless, it was better to be back where things were a lot simpler. Yes life sucked, but at least we knew what to expect. Before the world beyond our city had been non-existent. And it had almost been better than knowing what was out there.
No, it had definitely been better.
The people out in the rest of the world lived their lives with no troubles. They probably didn't even know about us out here, let alone think about us. They either didn't know, or didn't care. And that hurt more than thinking they weren't there to start with.
But at least we were here now. We'd lost too much, given too much of ourselves to a world that didn't want us. But we were still here.
And so was Rae. If nothing else, I was immensely grateful for that.
As the day got brighter it became impossible to ignore the fact that slithered around our necks, that tightened with every passing second.
Gabby and I couldn't go home.
It was too dangerous. If we were seen we'd be attacked, likely killed. We were known now as terrorists on the run. Especially after I'd been seen during the attack that was OTF's latest mission. In a Xiet uniform.
If people saw either of us then all bets were off.
There were no real rules when it came to things like this. There was no sympathy out here anymore. Not for us. So we would have to hide out for a bit longer. We'd have to take some time to come up with a plan. We couldn't stay. We weren't wanted here.
Regardless, Rae had to go back to work. He looked so tired that I thought it was probably more dangerous to put him in charge of patients, as opposed to leaving them in the care of the other medical staff. But Rae refused to listen.
"The other's have worked all through the night. They'll be no better than I am. And I can't abandon my job now. People need me."
"We'll stay here," Gabby promised, unnecessarily, as I began to lose consciousness stretched out along the couch. I hadn't slept for more than three hours at a time since we were at the OTF headquarters. And my last night there hadn't been particularly great.
"Is she okay?" Rae whispered, obviously thinking I was already asleep.
"I'm not sure. She's been through a lot. Won't tell me about it though. And she won't sleep, not for long anyway. She has trouble eating. Even the small amounts we have. Only drinks water when I tell her to. It's almost like she's forgotten she needs to do all of these things. It's bad. But maybe she'll start to do better now that we've got somewhere safe to stay. Now that we've found you. And when we see our mum. That should help her. She blames herself."
There was quiet for a moment and I could feel the two pairs of eyes scan over me and settle somewhere near my face. I had to fight the urge to open my own eyes and meet their gazes.
"I'll be back later tonight. I won't be able to get away until it's well past dark. But I will come. And I'll help you get to your house." It was kind how he'd said that. Like it was still our house. As though we still had any sort of claim to it, despite the way we'd abandoned its lone inhabitant.
I must have drifted off because the next thing I knew the hard sun was beating down on me through the cracked glass of the big window. I squinted against the invading light and pulled myself up into a sitting position. I glanced around, searching the familiar room for my sister. She was curled around herself in a patch of sunlight on the floor like a cat, sleeping.
I rubbed the sleep from the corners of my eyes and arched my back, feeling it crack in at least three different places. Grabbing one of the couch cushions I placed it gently next to Gabby's head. I was unwilling to wake her from her slumber, but didn't want her to be too uncomfortable on the floor. I knew she'd reach for it in her sleep if she wanted it.
As I took a deep breath I couldn't help but notice how different the air smelt here. There was something drier about it. Almost dusty and a little bit smokey. But at the same time it smelt better. The chemicals that had filtered through the water treatment plant — the ones that insured we were getting the ideal amount of oxygen and stopped any moulds growing — along with the mustiness of the underground area, were absent here.
I inhaled deeply through my nose and mouth.
Air wasn't something I thought I'd particularly miss. At least not from here, where it was usually full of filth and the occasional burning grey clouds.
I could already feel the ever present grime sticking to my hair, the greasy mess working to adhere it.
So I was dusty and greasy. What a great combination.
I briefly wondered what we'd be able to do to wash up. I didn't particularly want to turn up at home just to show Mum how terribly we were taking care of ourselves. She deserved better than that.
I sat down on the edge of the windowsill and lost myself in the sight of the blue sky. It had been hidden from me the entire time we were with OTF. It seemed unfairly beautiful in this world of wreckage and blood. It was a nice break from the carnage that seemed to surround me.
NINETEEN
The walk through the quiet, sleeping streets fried my nerves. I was jumpy, afraid that people were going to pop up out of nowhere and try to kill me. I also felt a little bit like I needed to throw up at the idea of seeing my mother again. Despite how useless I may have claimed her to be as a parent, she was still my mum.
And I'd missed her.
She'd raised me when I was little and I was overcome with waves of guilt for leaving her behind. I should have taken her with us. Or not gone at all.
Maybe if we hadn't Liam would've still been here. We might have been able to convince Palla of his innocence eventually. But instead we didn't even try. And now he was dead. Murdered.
I added that thought to list of things that was making my stomach churn.
"I haven't been able to check on her," Rae reminded me for the sixth time since we'd left the hotel.
"I know. You said that less than five minutes ago. Calm down would you, you've been busy. You have been literally sneaking out just to sleep. I'm not mad at you. She's not your responsibility." She was mine. And I'd left her to fend for herself.
"I did try you know. She wouldn't let me in."
"I know, I know. And the same thing happened the next two times you tried. Then you had too much work and couldn't get away. Or it would be midnight. Or you could barely keep your eyes open. I get it, really I do. Now stop fretting." He was making me even more antsy than I alre
ady was.
My eyes flickered around, scanning up and down the street we were walking on. It was eerily familiar, yet different at the same time. Now I knew what the rest of the world looked like. This was no longer the far edges of what I knew. Palla had never felt so small.
These houses I'd known my entire life seemed distant, even though they stood right before me. The house with the small and struggling flower garden belonged to Mrs Maloney and her daughter Krista. She and Liam had been around the same age and they'd had a thing a few years back, though it hadn't lasted longer than a couple of months. Last I'd heard she was planning on getting married.
I had to wonder what she'd thought about the accusation against my brother. She had to know it wasn't true. His surreal goodness was the thing she'd admired the most about him.
Looking at their house I had to admire the Maloney's optimism. Even in the crappy city we were forced to live in they did their part to make things just a little bit nicer, in whatever way they could. Their house was a physical representation of that, and was easily the prettiest on the block.
The small family had always tried to keep their garden going, and no matter how bleak our lives became, we could always count on the sparse flower bed lining the front of their house to offer a bit of colour. Only now that I looked at it with new eyes could I see how faded and dead it really was.
Had it always been that way?
Or had something bad happened in my absence?
I wouldn't have been surprised if it had, yet the idea sent the air escaping from my lungs.
Too many people were disappearing.
I looked away, to the other side of the street. I didn't want to think about people disappearing. And I didn't want to think about Liam either. It hurt too much.
The ramshackle building I'd turned towards was the home of a family of eight. Easily the largest family in all of Palla, and one of the lucky ones who still had both parents. It was considered a small miracle by most that they had six children, all healthy and doing well. At least as far as I was aware.
They were the only family I'd known of that was considered large enough to have their rations delivered in more than one box. Because it wouldn't all fit into just one. I knew only too well how much empty space there was in the box sent my to my house, even more so with Rae's. I could hardly fathom how much food they were given. But even having rations that more than doubled most households, after sharing it out eight ways, it still wasn't enough.
Everyone pitched in to help the struggling family. Whenever anyone had anything spare — blankets, old clothes, toys — it was sent here. Small children seemed to be a weak spot for most people. The youngest two, at three and five, were treated well by everyone in this godforsaken town.
I wondered what they were doing now. Was Kaylie getting better at her talking? She'd just started stringing together long sentences when I'd last seen her. The way she stumbled over the words had never stopped her trying.
And what about Thomas? He was always getting into all kinds of mischief. Trailing his older brothers and pulling pranks on anyone and everyone who stood still long enough. None were all that clever, nor were they particularly effective, but the cheeky smile that painted his face made it worth whatever humiliation you suffered by his hand. There wasn't much he could do for fun around here. It made people more lenient towards the mild and ineffective jokes attempted by a five year old.
I wondered if he still dreamed of good things? Or had that been beaten out of him already by the harsh realities everyone in Palla eventually came to learn.
It felt like we'd been gone for far longer than I'd originally thought.
The closer we got to our old house, the more an uneasy feeling filled my stomach. There was something sitting on our front step. My steps faltered.
The dull steel box was sitting where it had been delivered every Thursday for the past however many years since before I'd been born. The fingerprint scanner faced up. A red light blinked, indicating it had yet to be emptied. I looked around at the other houses again as I got closer, hoping I'd been missing something. But I hadn't. Not a single box was out other than ours.
I walked faster.
What day was it? How long had this been out here? Did our mum have any food left? Did she even know this was where she was supposed to get it? Was she starving?
I looked behind me to see Rae frowning at the box. Gabby looked past me at the front door, tried to hide the emotion building in her eyes.
I stepped forward and tried the handle, only to find it was locked. After glancing quickly down each end of the street, I crept around to the back of the house, Rae and Gabby hot on my heels. My nerves scattered like a herd of frightened deer as dread flooded through my entire being.
I cracked open the back door slightly — barely taking in the fact that it had been left unlocked for who knows how long — and was hit with a rancid stench. Something was rotting. And there was an added scent I could only identify as excrement. My legs shook slightly as I stepped further forward and nudged the door the rest of the way open with my shoulder. My stomach dropped.
Something was very wrong here.
My muscles tightened with the sudden impulse to run. To flee whatever horror waited for me inside.
The more steps I took the lighter my head felt. I was dangerously close to passing out again. I felt a hand on my shoulder and jolted at the sudden contact. A flick of my eyes confirmed it was Rae. The look that haunted his eyes didn't provide me with much hope.
"I sent Gabby back outside. I think you should go too." Whatever this was he didn't want me to see it.
Didn't want to let it leave its mark on my soul.
I shook my head slightly, feeling as though I was moving through a cloud. If anything had happened here it was my fault.
I should see it.
"I'm okay." I wasn't sure how true the words were, or if they were even audible through the lumps of fear clogging up my throat.
Whatever he could see in my eyes convinced him to let me continue. Though he did not remove his hand, only slid it down to grab my own. I was grateful for the comfort it offered and held tight with everything I had left.
"Mum," I called out cautiously. The sudden volume of my voice pierced the dark silence. There was no response.
"Mum…" My voice shook slightly this time. I continued through the hallway, the noise of my military boots scraping over the carpet sounded magnified. It echoed through my ears. Each strand of material seemed to scream with every step I took.
Or maybe it was just my mind, yelling at me to leave. My jaw clenched hard and I felt a sharp pinch.
It felt too quiet. There was no buzz of the radio filling out the silence anymore. No hint of movement. I half expected the sound of my breathing to echo.
My feet stopped of their own accord as I turned to enter the lounge. Then my mind caught up with what I saw and it froze too.
What I saw in front of me would forever be burnt into my skull. Every time I closed my eyes it would haunt me. For the rest of my life I would never forget it.
My breathing hitched and spluttered as my body frantically tried to remember how to function.
There was a thin figure hanging from the broken ceiling fan in the centre of the room.
Despite all sense of logic that would tell a normal person to turn away, to run, to get away from this horrible thing, I could do nothing more than look. Stare.
The starved body hung by two old belts looped together. One I recognised as having belonged to my father. It was well worn, thin at one of the holes. The same one that was now nestled against her throat. The belts were looped through each other. One was hooked around the centre of the fan, and both were pulled taught by the weight of my mother, strangled by the other.
My mouth went dry. Hung open slightly in shock. I could taste the blood where I'd bitten my tongue. Unfortunately the metallic tang only served to keep my focus on the here and now.
I stared blankly at the corps
e of the woman who'd raised me.
Her body was still.
Dead.
Wasting away.
My gaze zeroed in on her face, ignoring everything else around me. Her skin was taught over her cheekbones, the area beneath hollowed out. She was so pale. So thin. So gone.
She had to have been there a while. The swelling and stiffening of a newly dead body was not visible to my eyes. I could only assume it was already gone.
I didn't want to think about how long she'd been here.
I didn't want to think about how starved she would have already been in order to hang from something as flimsy as the ceiling fan in our living room. An old, broken thing, so weak that when I was a kid I used to be scared that it would fall on us whenever we were in the room.
I didn't want to think about what must have been going through her mind to make her do this. Was it just too much for her? Could she finally not handle it anymore? Did we finally break her by leaving? Had she gained a few moments of clarity, enough to finally understand what was happening to her family? Or maybe she knew what had happened to her son, and with her daughters missing, figured she'd rather join her husband and baby boy in whatever it was that waited for us in the end.
I felt the hand I'd dropped reach for my shoulder again and try to turn me away from the image now etched into my brain forever.
Somewhere in the distance words were being spoken. I wasn't sure who by or who for. Or what they were.
A body moved to stand in front of me. It blocked my view. The sudden movement shocked me out of my stillness and my body twisted, lurching sideways and I landed on my hands and knees.
My stomach heaved.
What small amount of food I'd managed to ingest over the past couple of days now forced its way violently out of my body. Burning my throat on its way up. I felt a gentle hand on my back, rubbing small circles, while another gingerly held my hair out of the way.
Bright Cold Day Page 17