Dispocalypse

by M. A. Rothman

  He glanced back and forth between Willow and Mel. “I sure wouldn’t have guessed you two had an interest in farming.” He reached forward and grabbed another ladle of stew, offering it to the two girls.

  Willow shook her head. “I’m not very hungry.”

  Though she knew he hadn’t meant anything by the comment, it reminded her that she looked the part of the full-figured merchant. As she bit down on a lightly grilled carrot, she decided that this year she was going to make some big changes.

  Melanie hopped up onto her bed, laughing with glee. “Isn’t this great? We’re finally roomies.”

  Willow smiled as she heaved her duffel bag onto her dresser.

  As seniors, they’d been assigned a larger room, nearly fifteen feet by ten feet. They each had their own bed, dresser, and even nightstand. The wood had a warm golden glow, and the smell of fresh wood polish was one that Willow distinctly associated with the Academy. She’d certainly never encountered that smell in New Memphis. Likely it was only sold in Dominion markets.

  She began unloading her duffel, putting her clothes into her dresser, but Mel climbed right into bed.

  “Aren’t you going to put your clothes away?” Willow asked.

  Mel ducked her head under her covers and yawned loudly. “In the morning. I’m exhausted.”

  Within seconds, she was snoring.

  Willow looked at her bed, but hesitated. She was filled with nervous anticipation, and it occurred to her that this might be the perfect time to try some of the exercises buried in her head.

  After checking to make sure that Mel wasn’t faking sleep, Willow stood in the middle of their room, placed herself in a ready position, and began.

  Memories of Grandpa Lin flooded through her as she went through a slow dance of taekwondo blocks, kicks, punches, and sweeps. Each form was done with a purpose and with a fluid motion, but executed with power. She could even hear Grandpa Lin’s voice as she exercised.

  “My flower, you practice your forms so that you don’t have to think about them. Once you’ve done something ten thousand times, your mind will automatically take over when you have need to use them.”

  She remembered how he smacked his hand with a bunch of clacking wooden sticks, creating a pace for Willow to follow. In her mind, she counted out a similar pace.

  Memories came bubbling up, becoming more vivid as she continued. She recalled waking at dawn each morning, flowing smoothly through the martial arts forms, then preparing for the rest of her day. And she recalled Grandpa Lin, his movements as smooth as silk, as he, too, went through his forms. She tried her best to emulate the old man’s moves.

  But though her mind remembered the forms, her body did not, and in only a few minutes her thighs burned, her shoulders ached, and her eyes stung with the sweat that dripped into them. Willow had barely finished executing the last stance on her eighth form when her legs refused to hold her up any longer. She collapsed to the floor, her muscles screaming in fiery pain.

  Only then did she realize how truly out of shape she was.

  “What in the world are you doing?” Mel had sat up in bed.

  Willow couldn’t help but laugh at the confused expression on her friend’s sleepy face. She knew she must be a sight, covered head to toe with sweat and cringing in pain from muscle cramps.

  “What’s so funny?” Mel said. “I’m not the one who looks like she’s a dying lump on the floor, sweating all over the place.” Her expression suddenly changed to one of worry. “Do you have a fever?”

  Willow shook her head. “No, I’m fine.” With a groan, she reached for a towel from her dresser and wiped sweat from her face. “I’m just trying to get some exercise. I don’t like being out of shape.”

  “Are you kidding? I’d trade shapes in a heartbeat.”

  It dawned on Willow how strange it must seem that she’d want to get herself in better shape. Make herself stronger. Mel simply wanted to gain weight, put curves on her lanky form like all the merchant girls.

  “Remember when we walked to your mom’s bakery?” Willow said. “I’m not sure if you noticed that I was pretty quiet for a while, just letting you talk.”

  Mel shrugged and let out a yawn.

  “I was totally out of breath after climbing that hill, yet you had no trouble whatsoever. I should be able to do something as simple as walking up a hill, don’t you think? So I figure if I exercise a bit more, become stronger, I’ll be better off.”

  “I didn’t realize you had so much trouble with that hill.” Mel paused. “It’s no wonder Mom never goes into the market herself. She always sent me or Da down to get supplies. I wonder if she has trouble going up the hill too.”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me.” Willow grabbed the foot of her bed, and heaved herself back onto her feet, doing her best to ignore the protests of her thighs, calves, and ankles. “I’m going to take a shower. I feel disgusting.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you need me to go with you?”

  Willow shook her head. “I’m fine. I just need to get used to this routine. Hopefully the more I do this, the easier it’ll get.”

  Mel shrugged and lay back onto her pillow with another yawn. “If you say so.”

  Every inch of her body throbbing with pain, Willow spent an hour tossing and turning in bed before sleep finally claimed her. And even then it was a restless night full of dreams—and memories.

  One such memory was from a night Willow was sick with a fever. Her father laid her near the fireplace in hopes of sweating the fever out of her. It was on that night, while her parents believed she was asleep, that they spoke in hushed whispers about a recent incident with the arrival of some Dominion troops.

  It was the first time Willow heard that she had an aunt. Arianna.

  “Jonathan, nothing is going to happen.” Mom’s voice had the same soothing tone she used when trying to calm Willow or her brothers.

  “Liz, you don’t understand these people. That bastard governor of ours does what he wants without regard to who he hurts. Like what happened with Arianna. One day she’s minding her own business as a silversmith, and the next day she’s gone, her place empty, as if she’d never been there.”

  “Honey, trust me, I remember.”

  “My sister wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye. To me, the boys, or you either. She was just as excited about your pregnancy as you were. She would have loved Willow. But something happened. Perhaps she accidentally insulted one of those Dominion bastards and was executed. Just like that. That’s why, for my own sanity, I need you to stay in the house while that demon is lurking in New Memphis.”

  “Oh honey.” Willow heard a chair scrape against the wooden floor, and she cracked her eyes open. Her mother was sitting in Dad’s lap, pressing his head to her chest. “Don’t worry, I’ll stay home while the governor does his tour. Our baby’s sick anyway, so I have a good excuse.”

  “I just couldn’t bear it if that bastard took someone else I loved.” Dad’s voice cracked. “First Arianna, and then my father. Neither of them even getting a chance to meet Willow. I swear to you, the Dominion is rotten, and the rot begins at the top.”

  Willow startled awake with the long-forgotten memory fresh in her mind. She’d already held deep resentment against the Dominion, but now, with her father’s words ringing in her ears, she had a target for that anger.

  The Lord Governor.

  But how could she do anything about it? How could a simple merchant girl do anything about the Lord Governor?

  The answer was simple: she couldn’t.

  Not alone, anyway.

  But if she could get the soldiers on her side…

  She stared up at the ceiling and smiled. She had a plan. The only way to fix the Dominion was from the inside.

  And that meant a revolution.

  The Referral

  Overcoming her weakness became Willow’s obsession. Any time she thought about how hard it was, Grandpa Lin’s voice echoed in her mind. “The greates
t obstacle to success is the fear of failure.”

  Driven by the words of an old man who existed only in her mind, she kept a razor-sharp focus on her exercises.

  I can do this.

  Each night, she pushed her body to its limits while her roommate watched. And after a couple days, Mel accepted Willow’s new ritual and even began to encourage her.

  Three weeks after Willow started exercising, she had a breakthrough: she actually managed to successfully execute all of the advanced forms that lay buried in her dream-based memories. And the end of it all, her arms and legs felt like jelly.

  Now, sitting in history class, Willow tried to ignore the throbbing aches as her teacher, Mr. Lido, talked about the history of the Forbidding.

  “As a remnant of the Great War, the Forbidding is a wasteland of death and a symbol of man’s ultimate downfall. The foolish quest for power led to man poisoning the land, causing it to turn on us all. Though this happened many hundreds of years ago, still the world only grudgingly tolerates our presence.”

  Despite the grim lesson of history, Willow smiled. Mr. Lido was probably the oldest person she’d ever met, but he still had a fire in his belly. In that way, he reminded her of Grandpa Lin.

  “The land,” Mr. Lido continued, “it’s fighting back. Within the Forbidding are memories of what we did to it. Ancient memories of a time gone by when humanity didn’t yet exist. If you ask me, I believe the land would rather we don’t get a second chance. Don’t you ever allow yourself to believe that just because the land is made of dirt and plants that it can’t see what you do today. The land knows what our ancestors did, and it’s furious.”

  He paused and faced the class. “Can anyone tell me what resides in the Forbidding?”

  Several people raised their hands, and he pointed at one student, who stood to speak.

  “My paps told me there be demons and swarms of disease-carrying vermin in there.”

  With a nod, Mr. Lido described the horned demons that were rumored to wander the edges of the Forbidding. They didn’t sound like the wildlings that had attacked her. They sounded much worse.

  The class gasped as Mr. Lido pulled a gnarled hand from his jacket pocket. It looked almost human, but the fingers were unnaturally long, and were tipped with razor-sharp claws. The shriveled skin had a green tinge.

  “From the Forbidding come creatures that only nightmares can describe. Creatures short and tall, creatures with poisoned claws and unimaginable strength. They patrol the outskirts of that deadly land, looking for a gap. A lapse in our guard. An opportunity for a group of them to invade…” Mr. Lido swiped the air with the mummified hand for emphasis. “Have you ever wondered why there are no settlements next to the Forbidding?”

  Willow nodded, as did many other students.

  The teacher’s lip curled into a snarl. “Our history is marked with invasions from creatures such as this. Entire settlements wiped out by monsters coming out of the Forbidding. This is why our people, using the last stockpiles of a bygone era, erected the great concrete barrier that now separates us from those creatures.

  “Yet anything humanity constructs, nature will most certainly tear down if given enough time. It was only with the establishment of the Dominion nearly five hundred years ago that humanity truly had a chance.” Mr. Lido nodded toward a handful of large, muscular boys clustered in one corner of the room. “The Dominion uncovered those in our population with the natural talents to serve others. Our children became soldiers, and those soldiers train, keeping the evil at bay.”

  Willow frowned. There clearly weren’t enough soldiers. Had there been soldiers protecting the frontier near Yawning Deep, she wouldn’t have been attacked, and her father would still be alive.

  Her hand shot up in the air. “Mr. Lido, what if I wanted to become a soldier? Is that possible?”

  Some of the other students laughed—and that lit a flame of anger in Willow. She clenched her jaw and sat up straighter, looking defiant.

  Mr. Lido silenced the students with a withering glare. “Miss Park asks a very important question. Can women become soldiers? Can anyone answer?”

  One of the large boys raised his hand and sneered at Willow. “Sir, women aren’t strong enough to be soldiers. They would end up being a detriment to the squad.”

  Willow didn’t believe that raw strength was the only factor that mattered. But what truly made her angry was the idea that she would be a detriment to others.

  I’d never let that happen…

  She remembered her father advancing against insurmountable odds to rescue her.

  Never again.

  Mr. Lido nodded. “Mr. Crenshaw is not entirely off base in pointing out the differences between men and women. But that’s not sufficient to warrant completely dismissing the idea of female soldiers.” He tossed Willow a wink. “I’ve known some fairly determined women in my days—”

  The clock on the wall began to chime, signifying the end of class.

  “Class dismissed,” Mr. Lido said.

  As the other students shuffled out of the classroom, Willow nervously walked up to Mr. Lido’s desk. But before she could say a word, he smiled and answered the question she had been about to ask.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t help you with what you want. You’re a smart young lady, Miss Park, and I can see you’re wondering if you could hack it as a soldier. It’s a legitimate question. I’ve always believed that a determined woman can be just as dangerous as a man. But I can’t refer you into a combat class. This class is required for all students, so I can’t refer you out of it. If that’s something you truly want, you’ll need to bring that up with a teacher from one of your electives.”

  For a moment, Willow had thought Mr. Lido was going to help her. She tried to keep the disappointment from her voice. “I understand. And thank you.”

  Willow turned away. She knew exactly which teacher she needed to talk to next.

  “Ouch,” Willow exclaimed. Mel had, once again, accidentally poked her with a needle.

  “Stand still or I won’t get this right.”

  Willow trying to remain as statue-like as possible while her friend placed pins up and down her pants legs.

  “You’ll thank me for doing this,” Mel said. “These pants may have fit you when we first got here, but you’ve been melting weight off for three weeks now. I’m sick of watching you walk around in a tent.”

  Willow slipped out of the pants and handed them to Mel. “Well, I appreciate you looking out for me. Though you really don’t need to do it.”

  “Oh be quiet.” Mel waved dismissively. “I’ll have these pants taken care of in a jiffy.”

  Mel turned the pants inside out and began plucking out the old stitches. Her fingers scurried along the inseam, and the needle and thread flew at blinding speed.

  She’s really good at that.

  Leaning back against the side of her bed, Willow lifted one of her legs up in the air and studied it. It was thinner than she remembered. She patted her thigh. It was still pretty thick, but it didn’t jiggle like it used to. She felt pleased to see that it had become pretty solid.

  “See?” Mel said. “I told you—clothes don’t lie. I just hope you’ve hit whatever your goal is and you aren’t planning on getting even skinnier.”

  Willow pointed her toes upward. For the first time, she noticed a hint of definition in her calf. “I don’t really have a goal in mind other than just trying to get healthy.”

  Mel finished her last stitch, tied a knot, and bit off the remaining thread. She pulled the pants legs back through the waistband, examined her handiwork, and nodded with approval before tossing the pants to Willow. “Well don’t get too healthy or you’ll disappear.”

  “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.” Willow folded her pants and placed them on her bed. “And thanks for taking my clothes in. I may not always seem grateful, but I really am.”

  “What else are friends for?”

  Everyone was supposed to be practici
ng their satin stitches, but Willow’s attention was on her embroidery teacher, Mrs. Culpepper. The old woman wore her gray hair in a bun and smelled of flowers and muscle ointment. Her hips brushed the desks on either side of her as she walked up and down the aisles, examining the students’ stitches. Willow had heard that Mrs. Culpepper was from a merchant family in Springfield, a town about a hundred miles northwest of the Academy, about halfway to the capital.

  Nervous energy coursed through Willow as she raised her hand.

  “Yes, Miss Park?”

  “Mrs. Culpepper, why aren’t there any boys in this class?”

  The teacher seemed taken aback. “I suppose that’s probably because most boys don’t have the patience required to excel at this kind of thing.”

  Willow took a deep breath. “What if I don’t think I have the patience for it either? Can I be transferred?”

  Mel leaned over and hissed, “Willow, what are you doing?”

  The teacher shook her head. “No, Miss Park. You may not transfer. You’re going to finish what you’ve started.”

  With a sigh, Willow tried to focus on her work. The assignment was to use back stitches to follow the outline of a duck, then use satin stitches to fill in the figure. But Willow’s stitches were… not good. They were imprecise, and they didn’t cleanly fill in the pattern. Probably because she simply didn’t care. She had no interest in this class.

  A shadow fell across her desk, and she looked up to see Mrs. Culpepper. She picked up Willow’s work and examined it.

  “Young lady, this simply won’t do. Your lines are quite uneven and there are gaps between your stitches, giving the entire fill pattern a very unappealing texture.”