In opstand

by Marieke Veringa

  But the mothers coming here to wash their kids were equally reserved and scared to help with such a dangerous plan.

  “We have to think of our children,” a woman with blonde, stringy hair said. She had dark rings under her eyes, just like the others. “Out there we will all die!”

  “My barracks are close to the Fence,” a girl of about sixteen years old muttered. Emma thought her name was Brigid. She was holding a newborn child, cradling it against her chest. “I can hear the wolves howl at night, in the distance.”

  “What’s your baby’s name?” Emma inquired.

  “Mira,” the girl whispered. “Why?”

  “I’m guessing you got pregnant during your time here?”

  Brigid’s white face turned one shade paler. “Yes. He held me down. He put his gun against my head…”

  Emma took a deep breath to recover from the shock she felt at the girl’s words. “If we stay here, Mira will never know life beyond this Fence.”

  Brigid sadly shook her head.

  “Granted, the wilderness is dangerous, but within these boundaries we know for sure we’ll never have a shot at a different kind of life,” Emma said hoarsely. “No freedom. No prospect of anything better… don’t you get it? If we die out there, at least we’ll have died striving for a goal! In freedom!”

  “I still haven’t given my son a name,” Esmeralda confessed quietly. “I’m afraid to, because – because I’m afraid he won’t make it to his first birthday.”

  At the end of the day, several women seemed convinced while others were still on the fence. When Uriah and Elizabeth came back, they reported the same results. Emma was exhausted and crawled into Uriah’s warm embrace. She had no idea how to convince thousands of terrified people to risk their lives in a breakout attempt that might very well fail entirely.

  “We need a miracle, Uriah.”

  “It’s too much. The camp is divided. We should think of ourselves first and foremost.”

  “But we can’t. We can’t do this alone!”

  His arms circled her even more tightly. Uriah wasn’t just warming her with his embrace – he gained strength from her presence, too. “It’ll have to do. It has to. Baikal has some friends. Esmeralda will convince the strongest women she knows. Maybe it’s better this way.”

  “But five thousand people...” Emma felt her eyes burn with fatigue and despair. “How can we possibly leave them behind?”

  “If we make it home, we’ll tell everybody about this place. Maybe it will change things. Someday. We might get a chance to liberate them then.”

  Emma shook her head. “We really need a miracle.”

  Around midnight, a choir of shrieking voices rose up. Hysterical sobs of a woman and angry howls of one of two guards. Emma sat up in her pallet bed and stared at Uriah wide-eyed. Before they got to the barracks door, shots were fired that temporarily silenced the people outside. Emma counted three thudding heartbeats before the crying started again.

  Uriah put a finger to his lips and opened the door to the tiniest crack possible. The flickering light of the lamps danced across his face. Emma leaned over his shoulder to see the drama unfolding in front of their barracks.

  “It was a toddler!” someone yelled, her voice breaking. “A child!”

  “A thief and a liar,” the guard growled. He had a gun in his hand.

  “He was hungry!”

  The oil lamp swayed in the breeze, casting its light onto the ground. Emma gasped for breath. At the guard’s feet was a little, dark bundle of something, blood pooling quickly around him.

  “It’s forbidden to attack the guards. Let this be a warning and an example!”

  Someone detached himself from the crowd and jumped the guard like a wild beast. People spurred him on in loud voices or warned him, their voices rumbling in her ears, just like her erratic heartbeat. Should they go outside? Weren’t they supposed to help him, to stop him..?

  “It’s not time yet,” Uriah whispered. “God, it’s not time yet…”

  Another gunshot and the struggle ended. Someone slumped to the ground. Oh, help…

  “Who?” Emma whispered, trembling with shock. “Who was just...”

  “Not the guard. Go back inside.” Uriah shut the door.

  “But…”

  “It’s too dangerous, you hear? They’re gunning down everybody who’s –”

  The rattling sound of a gun interrupted him. Uriah pressed his lips into a grim line and steered Emma back toward the sleeping pallet on the other side of the barrack. “Wait until tomorrow morning.”

  The shooting of prisoners wasn’t exceptional in the SIDR. Why this night had been different was something Emma couldn’t quite fathom, but the next morning it was evident that anger had flared up into a veritable forest fire among some of the prisoners. Three hours before sunrise, when Emma pulled on her red coat with a sick feeling in her stomach, plaited her hair, and pulled up her hood before going outside, the atmosphere had turned ugly. Something was brewing despite the bitter cold.

  The ground where the boy had fallen was still red with blood. Dark silhouettes of sentinels were patrolling the towers near the Fence. When the breakfast bell rang, the darkness was broken by a tinge of gray in the east. Uriah’s hand stroked hers, and she intertwined her fingers with his.

  Franz Gabriel was paler than ever. Baikal’s mouth was set in a thin line. The transformer box was near the northeastern gate furthest away from the barracks. Guards were patrolling on a wooden ledge mounted above the gate, but the crowd of people heading for breakfast would give them some cover. “If all goes well, I won’t need long,” the Angel assured them. “Five minutes.”

  He’d explained to Uriah how the cables in the box worked so he’d be prepared for a worst-case scenario. Emma felt his hand tremble in hers.

  “Sunrise,” Elizabeth whispered. “We need to go.”

  It was easy to pretend they were just headed for the breakfast hall until they got to Gate B4. Emma’s breath hitched and she inadvertently let out a panicked moan. Baikal had brought his guys along, and Esmeralda had gathered a number of women, some of them with their children. They’d gathered in front of the gate with wild, rebellious expressions on their faces. The men who were part of Baikal’s group had the characteristic big fists and tough manners of mineworkers. Using those fists, they were trying their best to fend off the guards presently storming the people gathered in front of the gate. The women huddled together in an anxious cluster, the din drowning out any reasonable word being spoken. Emma resisted the urge to press her hands against her ears to block the shrill cries and curses buzzing through the air. The guards surrounded them, their guns drawn.

  “They’re too early!” she whispered. “Franz..!”

  The Angel’s forehead was clearly beading with sweat, but he still beckoned Baikal to follow him. “Cover me,” he grunted, then started to push through the crowd, disappearing from view before Emma had time to call after him.

  “He’s doing it,” Uriah said, his voice tense. For a split second he seemed rooted to the spot, then he started to shout. “Cover that man! The gate will open! Protect the Angel!”

  13

  The angel has arrived

  Uria

  “PROTECT the Angel!” His voice, hoarse from the dust he’d breathed during his work in the mines these past few weeks, was drowned out by the screams of the fight that had erupted. But somehow, someone must have heard him, because Uriah heard his words passing through the multitude, repeated by people left and right.

  In front of him, people started to move. They no longer seemed weakened now that they moved as a single entity toward the gate, Uriah mused. He felt a cold shiver running down his neck. This wasn’t just a procession – it was a stampede.

  The jeering people formed a shield around Franz Gabriel and Baikal. Uriah stretched his neck but re
alized he couldn’t see the two men anymore. And Emma – he turned around, his heart trapped in his throat. Where was Emma?! She’d been here, next to him, mere seconds ago. He’d swear he could still feel the warmth of her hand...

  Elizabeth pushed him forward, and Uriah had no choice but to let the growing mob guide him in their surge toward the gate. They were on the edge of the crowd near the regrouping guards. Here and there, people dropped to the ground, but he couldn’t tell whether they were dead or they’d just stumbled. Dozens of voices pounded his ears. The gate will open!

  “Come on, Franz!” Elizabeth groaned beside him. She’d clenched her hands into fists and stared continuously at the spot where the Angel had gone off to. “Now or never…”

  Voices rang out all the way at the front. The guards were now trying to form a barricade between the open gate and the prisoners.

  “They’re cheering,” Elizabeth whispered in awe.

  “Head for the trees!” It was Baikal’s deep voice. “The gate is open – now run!”

  The relief flooding Uriah’s body weakened his legs momentarily. He couldn’t put one foot in front of the other. Elizabeth grabbed his hand.

  “Wait!” Uriah called out. “Where’s Emma..?”

  “With the mothers over there. Hurry up, run for it!”

  He didn’t see Emma, but he could see Esmeralda a bit further up, surrounded by a number of other people holding their children close. He automatically fell into step with the rest of the people like a cow in a runaway herd bolting for freedom. His heart beat wildly with every step. It was like Franz Gabriel had predicted – even though this wasn’t nearly a multitude of five thousand, it still felt like he was part of an unstoppable tsunami.

  I can’t believe we did it. In mere seconds he’d have reached the gate. It was wide open, inviting and liberating. The thick cables of steel were useless now that the power had been switched off. How much longer do we have?

  It hadn’t occurred to him to count the minutes, and he cursed himself for not doing so. So many people were here – what if Franz Gabriel and Baikal couldn’t get all of them through in time?

  Twenty more yards… fifteen… He saw that a few women had brought oil lamps from the barracks. The lights went from hand to hand. Uriah frantically looked around to spot the red coat he was looking for, to see a flash of golden-blonde hair…

  The crackling sound of the gun was louder than he’d expected. Maybe because he was closer to Esmeralda than he’d realized.

  Blood on the ground, just like last night. More than last night. Uriah tripped, and Elizabeth’s hand slipped from his grip. Someone bumped into him and landed on top of him, uttering a curse. His fall caused an instant hold-up.

  More shots rang out. They sounded sickeningly close by.

  God, this is it, Uriah thought. He couldn’t scramble to his feet, because the people around him surged forward in a panic, trying to go around him, stepping on top of him… I’m going to die.

  He made himself as small as possible, curling up into a ball by raising his arms above his head and pulling up his knees. Every time someone tripped over him, he felt a thudding pain pounding into his body. A sticky and warm substance stained his hair.

  Now it sounded like someone was shouting orders. It was followed by an animalistic scream of agony, then a satisfied murmuring coming from many throats.

  Uriah risked looking up. A small space had opened up in front of him, and through it he saw the bloody shreds of a guard’s uniform. A sleeve. The fingers were still sticking out of the opening.

  His heart hammered in his chest. The people who’d seem Esmeralda getting shot had hurled themselves onto the soldier who’d fired the gun like ravenous bears. The man had only managed to utter a single cry before dropping his gun and…

  Uriah stared at the mangled body of the man while people shuffled past him on his left and right. Even if he’d wanted to, he wouldn’t have succeeded in moving just a single muscle.

  “Get up,” a voice hissed in his ear. Elizabeth. She roughly dragged him to his feet. “What are you waiting for? We’re almost there!”

  “Wait – Emma!” His gaze was caught by a flash of bright red.

  Emma had a strange expression on her face. Uriah imagined her hands to be just as red as her coat as she detached herself from Esmeralda’s cold body and lifted the baby from her dead arms. Just as he wanted to call out to her she uttered a few hoarse cries. He didn’t understand a single word she was saying, but apparently the people around her did, because they reacted immediately. They lifted her up onto their shoulders while she was still holding the baby in her arms. Emma was now sticking out above the crowd, a scraggy, scrawny blonde girl with dirty hands.

  Seeing her like that seemed to jolt him awake. Uriah started to move. “Put her down!” he howled, elbowing his way through the prisoners to get closer. “They’ll pump her full of lead! Emma!”

  She partially turned around and their gazes collided. My God, wasn’t she scared? Five guards had forced their way to the front and were now headed for her, their guns pointed at her face.

  “Put her down, you idiots!” Uriah screamed, feeling the panic lapping at his insides like a hot flame.

  Emma saw the danger. That was good – she’d say something to the people carrying her. She’d seek safety and anonymity within the group of refugees – wouldn’t she?

  But she didn’t. Instead, she held the baby close to her chest for a moment, then raised him up even higher into the air, her arms outstretched toward the sky. For one heart-stopping moment, Uriah thought she would drop him.

  “This baby will live in freedom!” Emma shouted. “Who will dare to stop us? Who will shoot a baby?”

  “Fool!” Elizabeth said. All the blood seemed to have drained from her face.

  Everything that happened next unfolded as though Uriah was watching it in slow-motion. The guard at the front cocked his head and put his gun to his shoulder like he was looking forward to taking the shot. The barrel went up. Next to him was a young man. He wasn’t staring at Emma, but at the baby. Blood stained his collar. Uriah vaguely noticed that his eyes were swollen. Hadn’t he seen this man before – always staying near Esmeralda? Uriah couldn’t remember ever hearing him speak. Even now he didn’t say a word. He wasn’t even shouting, but the shot he fired rocked Uriah to the core. The bullet wasn’t intended for Emma, nor was it aimed at the baby or one of the other prisoners. Instead, the guard at the front spasmed as though he’d hit the electric fence and slumped to the ground.

  The effect was instantaneous. The remaining three guards turned around to face the young man. He had no chance of getting away alive, Uriah realized. Quickly, he averted his gaze from what followed.

  At any rate, the dead guard had given their group the chance they needed. For just an instant, the guards were preoccupied with something else – the traitor, or in Uriah’s case, the guardian angel, who’d just shot one of his own. But he wasn’t the only heavenly messenger in their midst. He couldn’t take his eyes off Emma.

  Angels, messengers of God, with swords of flame… In the flickering light, with the baby in her arms and her tangled curls, she looked more like an angel than Sophia ever had.

  He hardly registered passing the gate and running down the platform, until Elizabeth halted for a moment to catch her breath and he automatically stopped as well so as not to lose sight of her. She was panting like the sudden sense of freedom was too overwhelming for her.

  “We did it – I never thought we’d…”

  “Keep running,” Uriah said. “Run, for as long as they don’t understand what they’ve just witnessed.”

  14

  Exodus

  Emma

  THERE were so many things she didn’t know. The forest was just as impenetrable and immense as the darkness. This was an unfamiliar country with short hours of daylight, where wolves
and bears crawled out of their holes at night to still their hunger, and where the bitter cold held everything in its relentless grip.

  Baikal had forced them to march on through the dark hours of night, afraid that the SIDR soldiers were following their tracks. For the past three days, capture had seemed imminent whenever they’d allegedly heard the howling of bloodhounds in the distance. A few times, some men had even reported hearing voices some distance away.

  “They won’t be able to catch us now,” Franz Gabriel finally concluded quietly. “We’ve wandered off too far. They’ll probably think it’s easier to let the wilderness finish us off.”

  To Emma, that wasn’t a particularly comforting thought. The wilderness seemed capable enough to swallow up a group of weakened prisoners who’d jumped the Fence. Even when they rested and lit up a small section of the woods with dozens of campfires, she always stayed alert to catch even the slightest unexpected sound. By now, she’d jumped up with goose bumps on her arms a few times just because someone had snapped a twig under a shoe.

  “I don’t know his name,” Uriah commented as he sat down next to her and pointed to the baby. Emma alternated between carrying him on her back or strapped to her chest, the latter option enabling her to keep him warm under her coat. Brigid had offered to feed him together with her own little girl, and Emma was grateful for the offer. The inhospitable surroundings weren’t exactly brimming with options to feed a newborn baby. When someone else had offered to carry the child for her, she’d refused, though. Esmeralda had been her friend, so taking care of her son was the least she could do.

  “I don’t know,” she told Uriah. “Esmeralda wouldn’t give him a name. She thought he wouldn’t survive anyway… But now she’s no longer around to see him grow up a free man.” She shook her head, a lump growing in her throat.