Escape from Harrizel

by C. G. Coppola

  Reid’s words come crashing back again. What did he mean about Raj tailing me? Barely posing the question, she’s here, in my face, in the darkened corridor.

  “Fallon—hi!” she squeaks.

  “Hi…”

  “What’re you doing in here?” she peaks over my shoulder.

  Suddenly, I feel inclined to put Reid’s words to the test. “Why are you interested?”

  Her smile twitches slightly. “I just want to make sure you’re settling in.”

  “You followed me in here?”

  “No, I…” and now she stumbles for a second, glancing at the floor, trying to remind herself what she should be saying, “…was just leaving. Got turned around,” she looks up with a shrug, “maze and all.”

  “What were you doing in here?”

  She blinks.

  “Raj,” I take a breath, calming myself, “it’s okay, you can tell me. What were you doing in here?”

  Her eyes give it away. Those sunken chocolate almonds that flicker with fear. Apprehension. Questioning if she’s ready for this. To do this. But with her eyes faulting, she overcompensates with a tremendous toothy smile. “I got lost. I meant to…”

  “Cut it out. Tell me the truth.”

  “What truth?” she frowns suddenly.

  “Raj,” I exhale, annoyed with all the secrets. Maybe it’s just my anger from Reid coming out but I’m fed up. “Were you following me?”

  “I-uh…”

  But as she starts stuttering a response, something over her shoulder catches my attention. It’s Pratt, peeking out from the wall’s edge. She finds me and we hold focus for a few seconds before she turns back again. I’d dismiss it immediately if it was just a random glance. But she meant for me to see her. There was reason in that look. A message.

  Follow me.

  “Never mind,” I say, abandoning Raj to obey Pratt instead. It doesn’t matter. Whatever she was going to admit, it’d probably be a lie. I’m a few steps away when Raj joins my side again, rambling on as she pulls at her fingers.

  “You don’t understand, Fallon. You really don’t.”

  I keep going, ignoring Raj to follow Pratt. The swing of honey brown locks swishes past a corner up ahead and I move for it, Raj loyally at my side.

  “I’m not trying to spy, or even….”

  “It’s fine.”

  “It’s not. You’ve been nothing but nice. And me…”

  I’m half listening, focusing instead on keeping Pratt in view, at least until I can watch her take the next turn. Her hair leads my way as she takes passage after passage, navigating me deeper and deeper into this seemingly unsolvable labyrinth. But after the fourth or fifth turn, when I swear we’ve reached the end and can go no further, I find myself staring down an empty dead-end alleyway.

  She’s gone.

  Did I miss a turn? My pulse races, my first impulse to double back—I must have missed something. Starting to turn, I stop, more confused than ever. No, I saw her go this way, watched her short ponytail disappear beyond the wall, which only leads here.

  Spinning to the wall, I scan. There’s got to be something. A way out. She didn’t just disappear. Raj continues rambling on in the background as I press my fingers to the hard black stone. It’s solid, like expected. I run my fingers over the whole thing, not sure what I’m looking for, when Raj’s words finally break through.

  “What are you doing?”

  “There’s something here,” I say, unsure why I’m even telling her. She’s been keeping her own agenda but it doesn’t matter now. I’ve been led here for a reason. And whether Raj is here or not, I’m not letting this one go.

  “What do you mean something’s there? It’s a wall.”

  “Yes,” I exhale, the annoyance returning, “I know it’s a wall.”

  Running my fingertips over the space again, I reach higher until feeling a slight separation. There’s a space as thin as a hair and I follow it to either side with both hands, as far as I can reach. An outline! The line curves down, forming the shape of a door. It’s here. I found it!

  But how to open it?

  Placing my palm flat against the outlined wall, I push back until it locks into place, automatically sliding to the right.

  “What…” Raj steps up beside me, gawking, “…have you found?”

  We both peer into the blackness. Suddenly, the opening in the wall starts to close again and I only have a minute to decide. It’s now or never. I jump into the pitch-blackness and Raj flies in behind me, the door closing with finality.

  We’re alone.

  “Fallon?” her panicked voice calls. “Where are you?”

  “Right here,” I give my eyes time to adjust. But they won’t. Or can’t. It’s too dark in here, too black to see anything. How am I supposed to follow Pratt?

  “Where are we?”

  “I don’t know…” I extend my arms, feeling the walls on either side of me. It’s a tight squeeze, like the narrowed alleys of the Maze, but narrower—if that’s possible. I take a step, wishing my eyes would acclimate already.

  “We should go back,” her voice quakes behind me.

  “No, we should go forward.”

  “What? Why? We don’t know what’s up there.”

  “It could be a way out,” I suggest, another step forward, my fingers tracing the wall on both sides.

  “A way out of what?”

  “Here.”

  “But… but…” she reasons, her voice still quaky, “we don’t even know where it goes. What if we can’t find our way back? What if we get lost?”

  “Raj,” I say, more gently this time, “we have to try. This may be the only way out and if something happens, we’ll need an escape. We’ll need to know how to get away.” My thoughts turn to Hinson. Where is she now? Alive, even? There was nothing but death in her eyes. “I wish we had some light.”

  “Oh!” she squeaks as a soft glow suddenly illuminates the tunnel. It’s still black in the far distance but there’s enough light to see in front of us, if only by a few feet. “We can use my Callix.”

  Raj holds out a strand dotted with red, pink and peach blossoms and I recognize it immediately as one of the tresses from the tree out by the ruins. She hands it to me and I bring it in close. Like little heartbeats, the blossoms pulsate light beneath thin veils of the red, peach and pink petals. Beautiful.

  “You can use them as a light source,” Raj explains, the shadows dancing around her face. “It’s not their main function, but definitely a plus in our situation.”

  “Function?” I move forward, holding the strand in front of me like a lantern. She follows close behind, nearly on my feet.

  “Well, they’re Callix blossoms, said to withhold the eternal fire burning inside,” her voice softens, saddening. “You give them to someone you love.”

  “Who told you this?”

  “Sampson.” She frowns, waiting for my response that says I should’ve known that. But it never comes. “Haven’t you met Sampson yet?”

  “No… ” I laugh, “I haven’t really met anyone.”

  Even though I’m still weary and her motives unclear, I’m glad Raj decided to come. I’m even gladder she had a Callix blossom on her, a surprisingly effective light source. It illuminates a few feet ahead and holding it out in front of me, we make our through the narrowed tunnel.

  “Well you should really talk to him.”

  “Who?”

  “Sampson. He’s kind of like the mediator.”

  “For what?”

  “I don’t know,” she huffs, “everything. When there’s an issue. He tries to solve things first so they don’t get Tetlak.”

  “Who’s Tetlak?” The name rings a bell.

  “The Dofinike from yesterday. The one who took Hinson.”

  I stop and turn toward her. “That was Tetlak? The large one?”

  “Yup. Terrifying, isn’t he?”

  I shrug, following the curve of the tunnel as we approach something ahead on the le
ft. It climbs up the wall, to the top of the blackened passage where the Callix’s light won’t go. I stop and brush my fingers across the object’s cool metallic texture. Like the Water Pole. Stepping back, I see it—a ladder embedded in the wood or dirt or whatever this is.

  “Where do you think this leads?” Raj fingers the metal steps.

  “My guess is the Water Pole, which means we’re still inside the gate,” I lower the Callix, extending it ahead of me again, “come on.”

  We resume our steady pace. I debate telling Raj about the ruins and their strange familiarity, but decide against it. I don’t understand it myself. How could I expect her to? We walk in silence for a few minutes, a new thought popping in my head.

  “Raj, how’d you get the Callix?”

  “How’d I get the Callix?” she repeats, buying time to choose her answer. But she knows like I do, what I’m really asking.

  “You’ve never been this way before, right?”

  “Right…” she’s hesitant to give answers.

  “And I know you’ve never gone beyond the gate.”

  “No…”

  “So you must’ve traded for it, right? Is it like the Gupple? Is it a token?”

  “I…”

  “You work for the Clans,” I resolve, without waiting for her response, “don’t you? You’ve been tailing me. To find out information?”

  “I…”

  “To trade for this?” I hold up the Callix.

  No…” she whispers, “it was given to me… it was a present,” she starts sniffling, her voice quaking in a way that brings shameful knots to my stomach. I turn around, just as a single bead escapes, running the course to her chin. “I know why you think that but it’s not true,” she takes a breath, wiping the lone tear and sniffling again. “I had a boyfriend. He got it for me.” Another tear blooms and she swipes this one clean too.

  “What happened?”

  She keeps sniffling, cleaning her nose with a knuckle. After a moment, she mutters in a low voice. “They took him.”

  “He went out past the gate?”

  She shakes her head when an echo sounds from the darkness. I throw Raj a stern look, indicating silence with a finger pressed to my lips. Someone’s shouting, calling for another but they must be a ways up because the words blur together. I take Raj’s hands in mine and pull her along as we make for a light jog, following the commotion.

  It takes a few minutes for the sounds to turn to words, as a faint glow of light glimmers ahead. I throw Raj’s Callix behind me as we slow. “Put this away. Hide it.”

  “But how will we see?”

  “With their light,” I whisper, “but we can’t be seen. Not yet.”

  Raj does as I say, tucking the Callix back into her shirt. We continue following at a good distance, moving silently as the echoed words lead our way. Suddenly the brightness dims along with the blurred conversation surrounding it. They’ve stopped. They’re leaving. The exit must be up ahead.

  “What’s happening?” Raj asks, going for her Callix.

  “Wait,” I indicate with my finger, listening. The words are definitely gone and there is no more light ahead. I inch my way closer, glancing over my shoulder at Raj. “Okay.”

  She pulls the Callix free.

  About ten feet up lies a small stairwell carved into the ground or dirt or whatever we’re in. Motioning for the Callix, she hands it to me and I hold up the pinkish light, examining the structure. I place one foot down, then the next. The steps feel sturdy enough so I climb, following the stairs until coming to a hard, curved wall with a round hook for a handle. I slide my fingers through, holding the Callix in the other hand.

  “Wait!” Raj cries. “What if… what if…”

  “It’ll be fine,” I promise, glancing to her. “But keep quiet and stick behind me. If I say run, turn back and bolt.” I can see the fear building behind Raj’s eyes. “It’ll be fine, okay? I’m here too. If anything… I’ll create a diversion.”

  Her mouth perks as she nods me on, pulling at her fingers again.

  I push the handle and the wooden ceiling lifts, revealing the night sky over a misting jungle scene. We made it!

  Inhaling the damp plant life, I do a quick scan. The dark trees sit undisturbed, mostly asleep, except for the lavender bulbs and crimson petals humming at their base. Vines swing from leaping insects which buzz from tree to tree. The wind ripples through the leaves and it’s quiet again, but only until the sound of dripping dew smacks the compact dirt, the flowers and insects hissing along.

  “Fallon?”

  I climb free, the small opening carved from a massive tree trunk. Motioning Raj next to me, she emerges and we keep to a small crouch, scanning the area. We’re close to them. The ruins. I can feel it like I did before, calling to me like last time. Like instinct. Like a tiny voice I couldn’t hear until now.

  “Where are we?” Raj asks.

  “The jungle,” I close my eyes, inhaling the damp air. The ruins are close—just up ahead. I set out on a light jog. “This way.”

  “Wait!” Raj follows and in minutes, we round the same cluster of trees and come upon them.

  The ruins sink in like fire, sparking me alive again. I try to will their memory, their familiarity but nothing appears. No image projects itself and for a second, I think I’m making it all up. But I’m not. It’s the feeling I get. The feeling I’ve been here before, when these broken walls were whole and housed families. A small village, maybe.

  “What is this place?” Raj passes the first broken wall, her fingers draping along the velvet ivy.

  Crunch, crunch!

  We both drop as the sound of low growls sail on the night breeze toward us. Raj’s terrified eyes find mine, like a frightened animal aware it’s about to become a meal. I gesture her toward me and she darts over as quickly as she can, her body shaking. I hold her face in both my hands, forcing her to steady. We’ll be fine if she stays calm. If she listens to me and does as I say.

  Motioning her to follow me, I crawl into a tiny space between two trees, camouflaged by a thicket of overgrown yellow-tipped leaves. We sit, hunched over and silent. Another round of growls grows louder as the hissing vowels pour forth. Raj tenses beside me. I put my hand on hers and squeeze. The sounds grow louder and she starts shaking again. I squeeze her hand tighter just as someone cups her mouth from behind. I go to strike its owner but my own mouth is silenced by a set of forceful fingers.

  Chapter Eight: Camp

  He pulls me back into him whispering. “Quiet.”

  I recognize the voice instantly. It makes sense for Reid to remain close to the tunnel. Camp where there’s a guaranteed escape, a guaranteed exit for necessary retreat. But we can’t retreat now. That’s the problem. A crackle-crackle, crunch-crunch sweeps the jungle floor followed by grunting growls drifting toward us.

  I see Raj across from me. A boy with dark, reddish brown hair, a nose full of orange freckles and serious, almost ugly eyes sits rigidly still, his hand grasping her mouth like a grenade. Pratt is next to them, throwing a curious look at Raj before tossing a somewhat softer, amused one at me.

  So I made it.

  Raj is about to scream until she does a quick survey of our company and her face relaxes. A knee in the same powder blue scrub barely pokes into view to my left, and then three hands—one belonging to an older white man and the other two, black, with long feminine fingers—come into view. The man lowers his hand in soft gestures, indicating silence. I can’t see either of their faces. Reid keeps me motionless, his arm locked around my waist and his fingers digging molds into my cheek, clamping my jaw shut.

  Crunch-crunch, crackle-crackle!

  Following the footsteps comes a light skirting and scraping, a sweeping of leaves by something large and unresponsive. It sails through the fallen foliage like a ship on the ocean, parting the jungle floor with its unwelcome intrusion. I feel Reid shake his head. The boy across from us—the one holding Raj—acknowledges Reid’s gesture and tighten
s his hand on her mouth. Her eyes dart around as she begins shaking like before.

  The sounds get louder.

  Raj’s captor stiffens, his other arm locking her to him. She’s shaking less but still can’t stop completely. All crouched a few feet above the ground, we’re below knee level and peering through the patch of openings ahead. With the shield of leaves, we view the open ruins like a stage in the distance.

  They’re here.

  Three Dofinikes in true form. Tetlak, I recognize immediately. He reigns above the other two as they respond to one another in playful tones. They offer quick exchanges, their whiskers flapping with exaggeration before Tetlak turns and grunts, steam pouring through his own. The guards still at once and Tetlak turns, continuing over sunken cobblestones as he moves through the ruins. The two follow without complaint, each carrying the pinched end of a net tied over their shoulders. The net extends down, strapped around a large, motionless mass, dragging along the jungle floor behind them.

  A foot appears first.

  Hung up in the right pinch of the net, the foot is attached to a limp, slightly blue leg and then, to the body of a girl. She’s naked, discolored with a metallic tint except for her stomach, where a crimson canal sweeps below the navel, gutting her from hip to hip.

  I suppress the rise of bile in my throat, praying Raj doesn’t open her eyes. But it’s too late. She’s shaking again, convulsing almost, as I feel my own restraints tighten. To the left, the older man’s hand signals for quiet and once Raj notices this—as if, by some unknown, magical force—she ceases squirming and obeys. Closing her eyes, her body stills to the likeness of a statue. Her brows soften, relaxing as she drifts away somewhere peaceful, as if hypnotized.

  The dead girl’s body drags on.

  Purple nipples, a bluish neck and then the tip of the chin appear. Her head is rolled toward us and for a fleeting minute, I want to shut my eyes and join Raj in her vacation. But I don’t. The face passes and I see what I already knew. The same frantic eyes from the other day, the ones I couldn’t tear myself from. Glazed over. Empty.

  Gone.

  All that fear, like her life, has been extracted from this empty corpse, so different from the terrorized life inhabiting it before. Her hair sweeps past. Golden, out in the day, but here it lays gray and soiled, matted with a nest of tiny rocks and broken leaf fragments collected in its sweep of the jungle floor.