The Wilderness

by C. J. Harper

  Tanisha nods. ‘There used to be a whole lot more of them when they lived in the school.’

  ‘What happened?’ I asked.

  ‘Leadership pounced and took a load of them away. I reckon they’re in factories now.’ She frowns. ‘If they’re lucky.’

  ‘They just took them away? Has that ever happened with the Resistance?’

  ‘They manage to pick off a cell occasionally. Us central lot move around a lot. We’ve got strict security. We don’t normally let in anyone we’re not expecting.’

  ‘I thought that was because of this boy and girl Ven was told would be posing as Academy students,’ I say.

  ‘Trust me; Ven’s suspicious of new arrivals even when he’s not expecting Leadership spies.’

  I look out the window. What happened to the boy and girl? Was the information wrong, or are they still wondering about in the Wilderness? They must have been around my age; did they want to spy for the Leadership or were they forced into it?

  ‘Do they . . .’ Kay nods back in the direction of the caverns, ‘have guards?’

  ‘Uh-huh,’ Tanisha nods, ‘for what it’s worth.’

  I catch her meaning. ‘They’re kidding themselves thinking they’re safe down there, aren’t they?’

  Tanisha shrugs. ‘It’s not a bad place to hide.’

  ‘But if anyone ever finds them and wants to catch them, they’ll be like rats in a trap.’

  She shrugs again. ‘We don’t try to tell them how to live. In fact, we’ve tried to help them. You’d think they’d want to give something back.’ She grips the seat in front of her. ‘It’s not even for us, it’s for everyone. They’re too damn scared, that’s what it is.’

  I remember what the man said. ‘I think they’re so beaten down that they’re afraid to even imagine that things could be better,’ I say.

  ‘Hmm,’ Tanisha says. I think she feels it’s got more to do with straight-up cowardice.

  ‘So no helpers at all?’ Kay asks.

  ‘A few of them said they’d come. Out of the adults. They didn’t even give the kids a choice. I bet they would have come if they’d had the chance.’

  I’m not so sure. Part of the reason this country is in such a mess is because it’s really hard to trust any other way than the one you’ve grown up with.

  For the rest of the journey all I can think of is Ilex’s face falling from hope to grief.

  All through the afternoon I keep running over what happened at the Academy. It’s my fault that Ali’s dead. I want to scream I didn’t mean it.

  All these things that I’ve done. All these people who have died. Ali, my mother, Wilson, Scarface. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. How have I become a murderer? It doesn’t feel like I had any choice. I don’t want to be where I am. This has to end soon. This revolt has got to work.

  That night, Kay is upstairs working and I’m still lost in my thoughts, staring at the feathered paint peeling off the rec room walls, when a whispered word from Tanisha’s conversation with a boy with dreadlocks pierces my bubble.

  Assassination.

  Without turning my head or changing my posture, I tune into Tanisha’s low voice. At first she says a lot of things about timings that I can’t follow, but then the boy talks. His voice is louder and I distinctly hear an occasional word drop like a penny.

  ‘Rifles . . . square . . . The Leader . . . assassination team . . .’

  I catch my breath.

  They don’t just want to remove the Leadership from power. They want to kill The Leader. I’d assumed that they wanted to imprison him, maybe put him on trial. But they want to kill him, just like me.

  Tanisha and the boy are interrupted by Robin. ‘You were talking to those cave people today,’ she says to Tanisha accusingly.

  ‘Yep,’ Tanisha agrees.

  ‘You were trying to get them to help.’

  ‘That was the plan.’

  ‘I could ask my friend Jed to help you.’

  ‘No point, we can’t take any of the Wilderness children unless their parents agree.’ Tanisha catches hold of Robin’s arm to ensure she has her attention. ‘And Robin, you’ll be in trouble if anyone finds out you’ve been roaming about playing with kids in the Wilderness.’

  Robin pouts. Tanisha placates her by saying she’ll play a game of cards before Robin goes to bed. The boy moves away.

  The word assassination is still flashing like a sign in my mind. All this time I’ve been thinking that I’d have to steal one of the tickets that Ven has got hold of for the celebrations in the central square where The Leader is going to speak, so that I would be able to get close enough to him to kill him. And even though I knew that every Resistance member will be given a gun, I was panicking that Ven would try to make me an exception. But now it’s all being made easy for me. Ven will have planned how to get as close as possible to The Leader. All that weapons practice in our Future Leaders sessions on warfare is finally going to be some use. All I’ve got to do is get on that Assassination team.

  I just have to persuade Ven.

  Ven has come to check on my progress in the computer room, but I’ve got more important things to talk about.

  ‘I want to be on the assassination team,’ I say.

  ‘And I want to work with monkeys because I think they would better appreciate the concept of secrecy. How the hell do you know about the Assassination team?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. Can I be on the team with you?’

  ‘Touched as I am that you’ve formed some sort of attachment to me, I think you’d be better off away from weapons. I haven’t seen you actually do anything useful with your brains, but I’m guessing you’d miss them if you accidentally blew them out.’

  I’m not going to react to his jibes, this is too important. ‘I just really need to do this.’

  ‘I see, you think you’re going to be the one to fire the golden shot. Fancy yourself as a hero, do you?’

  ‘It’s not about being a hero. It’s personal.’

  Ven bursts out laughing. ‘I’m running a revolution here, not a girls’ slumber party. If I take you you’ll only end up getting yourself shot.’

  ‘I’m fairly certain that you feel able to spare me.’

  ‘And just what is it about you that makes you think I should choose you to kill The Leader over my highly-trained Defence team?’

  ‘Because I want The Leader dead.’

  ‘We all want him dead.’

  ‘That man has ripped apart my life. He is responsible for the death of my mother and my best friend. I’ve seen the terrible things that happen in his Academies and his factories. I don’t just want him dead, I want to annihilate him.’

  ‘If you could shoot him through the heart with sheer willpower and vitriol then I would certainly take you along, but as it is I’d rather have someone who shoots real bullets, not ones made of teenage angst.’

  ‘I can shoot a gun.’

  ‘Hmm, it’s cute when you lie. You blink too much. No, wait, only one of those statements is true.’

  ‘I’ve spent plenty of time shooting. I told you before, we had training with simulation weapons at the Learning Community. Come on, Ven, you’ve got to take me.’

  ‘They call them simulation weapons because they’re not real. I want The Leader to watch an actual bullet speed towards his face, not a toy one.’

  I’m getting nowhere. I decide to hedge my bets.

  ‘Even if you’re not going to let me be in the Assassination team with you, you should probably let me have a go with a real gun. Wherever I am on the day I’m going to need one, aren’t I?’

  Ven shrugs. ‘All right, Blake, even I enjoy a good laugh occasionally. Let’s take a look at you.’

  The Resistance practice their shooting in the vast underground car park. When Ven and I arrive, there are already several groups of people, including Nard, aiming at plastic barrels and shop mannequins. I enjoy watching Nard miss a couple of times and then I’m alarmed to see a small gi
rl loading a rifle.

  ‘Is it safe for her to do that?’ I ask.

  Ven scowls at me.

  I know Ven thinks I’m too protective of the kids, but I can’t stop myself from saying, ‘I just think that when I was that age I probably wasn’t careful enough.’

  ‘When I try to imagine the skinny parcel of pomposity that you must have been as a child, I’m fairly certain that you were incapable of following instructions because firstly, you’d already embarked on the erroneous path of considering yourself better than anyone else and secondly, you knew efwurd all about how dangerous the world can be. These kids have been trained. They have learnt the hard way. They remember the girl who shot herself in the leg. They know that they have to learn how to survive. They’re not ordinary kids; they’re members of the Resistance.’

  Someone fires a machine gun and I twitch with surprise. Ven smirks. I really hope that I’m not going to make an idiot out of myself.

  Ven strides over to a well-built boy. ‘I know what you’re thinking,’ he says to the boy, not bothering with a greeting. ‘You’re thinking that Blake here looks like a book-loving, weak-wristed asthmatic, but apparently he fancies himself as a sniper, and you know me, I don’t like to grind a young man’s hopes and dreams beneath the sturdy heel of realism – well, actually I do, but today I’m so full of love, or possibly gas, that I want to make a wish come true. Give him a rifle.’

  The boy turns to me. ‘Hi, I’m Eame.’ He holds out his hand, which is something no one has done to me for a long time. It takes me a second to remember to shake it. ‘I’m Defence vice-captain,’ he says. ‘So are you here for a brush up or . . .?’

  ‘He’s here to shoot a damn gun, as I already wasted valuable breath telling you. Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’ll turn it on himself. Who can know? Nobody can know until you give him the efwurding gun.’

  ‘Just a second,’ Eame says to me and he walks over to a locked trunk.

  Is he deliberately ignoring Ven? It’s nice to see someone making a point. I don’t know why so many of them tolerate Ven’s rudeness. Ven doesn’t seem at all bothered. He goes over to Tanisha and starts hectoring her about something. I’m left with the others behind a safety line.

  ‘Getting some practice in before the big day, huh?’ a girl with a drawling voice says to me.

  ‘Something like that,’ I reply.

  ‘Yeah, it’s pretty good to get the feel again. I mean, I know that they have to be careful with the ammunition supplies, but it’s been months since I’ve used actual bullets.’

  ‘Months, you say?’ I wonder what she’d think if I told her that I’ve never held a real gun in my life.

  Eame comes back and holds out a rifle. ‘Do you need me to . . .?’

  ‘Lend him your spine?’ Ven says, reappearing. ‘Yes, that would be useful.’

  I decide to try Eame’s technique and ignore Ven altogether. I look at the gun. ‘If you could just jog my memory,’ I say.

  ‘Okay, come over here.’ He leads Ven and me to a platform made of bricks and planks, where another boy is already lying on his stomach shooting at shop dummies set up some distance down the concrete space.

  ‘Lie down,’ Eame says.

  I get on to my front.

  ‘Hold it like this. Take your aim; get the target square in the cross-hair. Then you need to relax.’

  Which is exactly what they told us in the Future Leaders gun training sessions. I remember this. I can do this. My shoulders are up around my ears. I swallow and try to let the tension go.

  ‘Before you shoot, let out a breath. Then squeeze. There’s going to be some recoil, okay? The mannequin with no arms is yours.’

  I take my aim, blow out a breath and squeeze the trigger. The gun kicks. The plastic dummy falls backwards. Yes! I can still feel reverberations through my hand.

  Eame raises his eyebrows. ‘You’ve done this before.’

  ‘Sort of.’

  ‘Go again. Next mannequin along.’

  I focus on the dummy. Down it goes. And the next one. And the next.

  ‘Let’s, uh, let’s try a little more distance shall we? See the next set of targets? Try them.’

  I don’t think. I don’t hope. I don’t even look at Ven. I just breathe and shoot, breathe and shoot. Every time I take a dummy I imagine Wilson beside me in the simulation room, punching the air. I hit target after target. Gradually the sound around me falls away and when I knock the final dummy flying there’s a great cheer. I realise that everyone else in the car park has stopped what they’re doing to watch me. I allow myself a smile. I look around for Ven, but I can’t see him.

  ‘Ven had to go up to sick bay,’ Eame says.

  What the hell? That’s just typical. I bet he had to leave right around the time he realised that I was going to prove him wrong.

  ‘You’ll tell him that I’m a good shot, won’t you?’ I ask Eame. I really have to get on that team.

  ‘Sure will. Reckon you’re one of the best.’

  I notice one person hasn’t joined my admirers. Nard has turned his back on the crowd and is reloading his gun.

  ‘What about him?’ I say, nodding towards Nard. ‘Is he any good?’

  Eame grins. ‘Nope. He ought to be, spends enough time down here. But he’s never quite got the knack.’

  My smile returns.

  Kay appears from the back of the crowd. I’m so hyped up by success that I pull her into an embrace. I feel amazing. Kay feels amazing.

  ‘Are you doing something important?’ I ask. ‘Do you want to come and see the film we’ve put together?’

  Her eyes twinkle. ‘It’s lunchtime for me. I can come there for a time.’

  We leave the dispersing crowd and head back into the hospital proper.

  ‘I didn’t know you did shooting,’ Kay says.

  ‘I haven’t done it like that before.’

  ‘How did you do it?’

  ‘It was a simulation.’

  Kay gives me her questioning look.

  ‘A pretend gun and pictures of people to shoot on a computer.’

  Kay nods slowly.

  ‘It was a pretty good simulation. The facilitator always told us it was just like the real thing. I wasn’t entirely convinced, but I guess they were right. Everything was just like the practice gun. The muzzle flash, the recoil—’

  ‘That recoil is like a punch in the shoulder,’ Kay says, showing off her own newfound experience.

  I laugh. ‘I never thought we’d be having a conversation about our shooting skills.’

  ‘We have to learn it before the Big Day,’ Kay says with a straight face. ‘I’m just hoping I’ve learnt it good enough.’

  Which isn’t so funny, but I push down any worrying thoughts because I’ve just shown Ven up and Kay is holding my hand.

  We start up the main staircase and my cheerful mood bubbles up again. I’m pretty pleased with myself. No wonder guards always look so cocky. Being able to shoot straight is a surprisingly good feeling. As we ascend I realise that I’m walking tall with my shoulders back and my chest out. I really am feeling quite smug and also sort of . . . manly.

  Then there’s a piercing scream and I almost wet myself.

  ‘What the hell was that?’ I say.

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe some Defence team are doing fighting?’ Kay says.

  She’s trying to fob me off. ‘Most of the Defence team are in the car park. That scream came from over there.’ I point down Ven’s forbidden corridor. ‘Let’s take a look.’

  ‘No, Blake. That’s a bad-shouldn’t.’

  ‘Come on. Someone was screaming, really screaming.’

  ‘Ven will be cross.’

  But I don’t care what Ven thinks; I’ve just proved him wrong and I’m so pumped up I’m convinced I can do it again. ‘Are you just going to do whatever he tells you?’ I ask.

  ‘I don’t want trouble.’

  ‘If Ven is doing something bad then I don’t think we can just ignore it.’r />
  She looks up and down the stairs. There’s no one coming. She tilts her head on one side. ‘Okay, one quick looking.’

  In the first ward we peer into, the metal framework used for hanging curtains to separate the beds has been torn away from the ceiling. It lies on the floor in twists and coils like toy train track. The next room is smaller with a porcelain sink covered in scales of filth. There are streaks of something green down the tiled walls.

  As we duck back out I realise I’m holding my breath, maybe because the whole corridor is so quiet. Unlike the other floors, where there’s plenty of activity, there’s no one walking about or working away in rooms. Halfway down the corridor we side-step an abandoned green fabric screen on a bent metal frame and find a door with a sign saying ISOLATION UNIT.

  ‘What does that mean?’ Kay asks.

  ‘It’s where they kept people who they didn’t want to give their illnesses to others.’

  The skin on my scalp tightens.

  ‘Do you think it’s safe?’ Kay asks.

  I’m not sure it is safe, least of all when Ven finds out that we’ve disobeyed him, but if he’s doing something horrible then I have to know. ‘Just . . . be ready,’ I say. Kay tenses up and raises her hands.

  There’s a soft sound from behind the door and finally I can bear it no longer. My blood pumps hard and I take a deep breath.

  I fling open the door.

  And there is a room full of the absolute last thing I ever expected to find.

  Babies.

  The clean and tidy ward is filled with sleeping infants. Down one side are the smallest babies, in tiny cribs like clear plastic boxes on legs. On the other side are older babies and toddlers in metal cots.

  ‘I thought it was going to be bodies,’ I say. ‘Or something horrible that Ven had done, but not . . .’

  ‘Babies.’

  I peer into the plastic crib nearest to me. The baby is pink and chubby and has fuzzy blonde hair. ‘It looks healthy,’ I say.

  ‘Blake, where have all these babies come from?’

  ‘Oh hell.’ My face crumples in disgust. ‘Do you think they’ve got something like the Making Hour?’ One of the horrible things that I discovered at the Academy was that the Specials were encouraged to get pregnant so that their babies could be taken away to be raised as Specials and then factory workers themselves.