The Dead-Tossed Waves

by Carrie Ryan

  The familiar sound hits deep in my stomach. The march of the Protectorate, the tune we’re taught as children and sing every morning before classes. My lips move automatically, the words rote. And I find myself singing along as the Recruiters march into town.

  While everyone else celebrates the arrival of the Recruiters, I slip away from the crowd and into the basement of the Council House to visit Cira before they take her away. She sits on a bench tucked into a corner with her knees pulled up to her chest, her cheek resting on them. She’s thin and drained and I can already tell she’s given up. Seeing her so small and scared, I can’t believe she could be the same girl from the river. The girl who was willing to do anything. Who was so brave and bold in the face of everything in our world.

  I want to grab her hands and drag her to the river and throw her in. I want her to remember her own strength. I want to ask her how I’m supposed to believe in superheroes if she won’t believe in herself.

  I clutch the figurine she gave me under my shirt. Most of all I want her to promise me that she’ll stay alive and fight.

  Finally she sees me and her eyes light up. When she gets closer she slips her hands around the bars and I wrap my hands over hers. “Catcher?” she whispers.

  I drop my gaze to the ground, wishing I could somehow avoid this conversation. Not wanting to heap any more pain on her. I don’t know how to tell her I’ve failed them both.

  I shake my head and I can see everything crumble inside her. I squeeze her wrist tightly but it’s a useless gesture. She’s not the same. Her eyes are dim and dull.

  “Cira,” I hiss through my teeth. “Cira, look at me!” I’m desperate to find some way to help her, to give her something to hold on to.

  She barely focuses on me. It’s as if she’s underwater, being dragged down into the depths by the Mudo, but she’s not even struggling.

  “You can’t give up,” I tell her. I think back on all we’ve been through together, all the times she’s been the strong one. The person I wanted to be. I don’t know how to bring that back in her and it makes me feel useless.

  When she talks she barely moves her lips, as if even that isn’t worth the effort. “Why not?” she asks. “Why bother with it anymore?”

  I open my mouth to protest but I see a small spark ignite in her eye, an ember of who I know she can be.

  “No, really, Gabry. Tell me what’s worth it. Tell me what we’re doing just barely clinging on here. Why? Tell me what’s the difference between you or me and the Mudo?”

  “The Recruiters isn’t a death sentence,” I tell her, echoing the words that Elias said to me only a few days ago.

  “He really liked you, you know?” she says, and for a moment I’m confused, Elias still flooding my mind and heat straining up my neck. “He used to talk about you all the time. Ever since we first met you that day at the lighthouse.” She pauses. “We would have been sisters.”

  Pain sears at my chest, thoughts of Catcher and what could have been flashing through my mind.

  “I wish I could take it back,” I tell her. “I wish I could go back to that night and stop us from climbing the Barrier.”

  She shrugs one shoulder and lets it fall. “I used to think that,” she says. “When they first caught us I thought that. But now I don’t know.” She looks around at the others pressed against the bars. At the families being torn apart. “Sometimes I think it’s just inevitable.”

  A thousand protests come to my lips but she presses a finger against them before I can say anything. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

  She smiles. “You know, I like to think of you out there, standing in the lighthouse. I like to think that I’ll be able to see it from wherever they send us. That I’ll see that flash of light on the horizon and I’ll think about you and Catcher and that maybe it will make fighting that stupid war worth it.”

  I can feel my cheeks flush. “It’s not fair that I’m out here,” I tell her, my heart thudding at the words but knowing I have to say this. “I should be in there with you; I should go with you—”

  She cuts me off. “Someone has to stay behind,” she says.

  I pull the superhero figurine from around my neck and pass it to her. “Please don’t give up,” I tell her again.

  She looks at it dangling from my fingers. “There’s no such thing as heroes,” she says, pushing the necklace back at me. “Not anymore.”

  A familiar anger starts to prickle up my spine. “Why didn’t you come back with me that night? I called to you. We both could have run. You’d be safe now.”

  She looks at me. “I’m not you, Gabrielle.” Her voice is soft, as if she senses my anguish. She touches the little figurine, causing it to sway back and forth. “You’ve always been your own person. And me …” She smiles a little bit but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I’m only as good as those around me.”

  I try to understand but I don’t. “Cira—” I begin to protest, but she pulls me into a hug the best she can through the bars and I think about all the things we’ve shared in our lives. All the ways we’ve taken care of each other. I never thought I would have to face anything without her; I never thought we’d be apart.

  Holding her, I realize again just how much I’m going to miss her and how much strength she’s given me. I’m terrified that I won’t be able to find that strength on my own.

  The Militiaman announces that it’s time for us to leave. As I walk out I glance back over my shoulder and see my best friend standing there with the others, ready for the river to whisk her away.

  I don’t bother with the Council ceremony honoring the Recruiters. My mind is too full for me to be able to go along with the show and pretend I respect them, so I slink around the edge of the cheering crowd as the Recruiters parade into the town square. Their black uniforms shimmer in the light, their eyes hidden by hats pulled low against the sun.

  Their show of force over, the Militiamen have left their posts along the Barrier to join the festivities, only a few remaining behind to guard the gate. I realize that they’ve inadvertently given me a chance to get to Catcher and I breathe a little easier.

  I’m trying to calm my jitters, to remind myself that I can do this—I can make it over the Barrier and through the ruins to Catcher this one last time. Just to tell him good-bye. Just to make sure that if he’s turned there’s someone to end it so that he isn’t forced to exist as a monster.

  As I walk through the empty streets I hear the weaving echo of my footsteps bouncing off the walls around me and my heart forcing the blood through my body. There’s a spot near where the Barrier curves away from the town, a part almost hidden from the constant Militia presence at the gate. It’s the same place we crossed that night almost a week ago. I stand for a moment tucked into the shadow of the wall, gathering my courage, and creep my way around the turn.

  The sun is bright and hot, the cicadas a loud buzz that seems to build inside my chest. I take a deep breath and press my fingers into the gaps of the sturdy logs, not caring that it’s daylight. Not caring what happens if I’m caught. Just needing to take one last gasp of the person I could be if I didn’t fear so much.

  All I can think is that if I climb fast enough I can save him. That maybe Catcher is still alive.

  I don’t even hear the footsteps, don’t hear the breathing until too late. A body slams me face-first against the Barrier with such force that I lose my breath. My world explodes with terror and shock. I gasp at nothing, willing my body to inhale, when I’m turned around, my back thrust against the wall.

  “And to think there was a moment when I was going to trust you,” Daniel says, gripping my throat. I try to swallow but can’t. His hand smells like sweat and mildew. “I’ve been following you, Gabrielle. Wondering when you’d mess up.” He pushes hard against me, his breath hot in my face. I squirm and struggle but he only holds me tighter, splinters from the Barrier digging through my shirt and into my skin.

  Panic explodes in my head and I swallow again and again,
trying to tamp it down.

  “I always figured you’d been out there with the others that night,” he says. Squeezing me for emphasis. “You and your friends, thinking the rules don’t apply to you. Thinking you can get away with whatever you want.”

  I shake my head. I want to tell him that I always follow the rules but he doesn’t let me speak.

  He leans in close, his body almost crushing mine, pressing me hard into the wall. “I watched you, you know,” he says. “I watched the way you threw yourself at Catcher this summer. The way you’d pretend that you were scared just so he’d put his hands on you.” I close my eyes against his breath and try to turn my head away but I can’t escape him.

  “Where is he now, huh?” He shakes me and I try to think of what to say, how to get him to leave me alone and let me breathe. But sparks are firing in front of my eyes and my chest aches for freedom. I need space. I need air. I need him to let me go. I need to get away.

  I tense my arm, wanting to shove him off, but he’s faster. His fingers twist around my wrist, his thumb digging into the bones until my hand goes numb.

  Suddenly I’m not sure I’m going to be able to escape him and the panic rises high in my chest. He’s in complete control of me and in this shadowy nook there’s no one who will see us, no one who can come to my rescue. We’re alone out here in the shadow of the Barrier. Dread begins to buzz along my skin, terror at what he could be planning for me.

  As if he can read my mind he cracks a smile. “Where’s your little boy now? Not here to rescue you, huh?” He laughs and I gag, my chest convulsing, my vision blurring. “I’m guessing he’s still out there. Too afraid to come back. Too much of a coward to face service with the Recruiters.” My body flares hot, my muscles rigid and weak at the same time. I can’t get enough air. I can’t focus on what he’s saying. I’m about to pass out but I cling to the scraps of awareness, afraid of what would happen if I were totally defenseless.

  His grip tightens around my wrist, his bad leg pressed against the outside of my thigh. Everything in me revolts against his touch. “You should hear Cira and the others cry. Sometimes when I’m on duty guarding them, I like to go and listen to them pity themselves. You ask me, they got better than they deserve for putting us all in danger like that.”

  I can only move my mouth, no sound will come out.

  “Stop,” I try to say. “Stop.” All I can think is that I have to breathe or I’ll pass out.

  His mouth hovers over mine as his fingers loosen on my neck so that I’m forced to suck in huge lungfuls of air. I choke and cough as my body tries to adjust to the sudden release of pressure and he just smiles.

  My nose runs and tears clog my eyes. My vision wavers, my throat burning sore with each sucking inhale. “Here’s the thing,” he says, drumming his fingers against my neck. “With all of them going, that doesn’t leave many of us here. Just you and me, really. And I figure pretty soon you’ll be wanting a husband. Someone who’s a true citizen of the town so that no one can cast doubt on your loyalty. No one will wonder at the rumors that you used to sneak past the Barrier.”

  He presses his nose against the crook of my collarbone and inhales deeply. I gag again. It’s too much—him so close, his body so tight against mine.

  “And trust me, there are rumors,” he adds with a leer. “At least, there will be soon.”

  My mind spins uncontrollably. Trying to take in the situation. Trying to figure out what I can say to protect myself. I have to get away from him. I have to escape and he’s too close and too strong and I feel totally helpless.

  “There will definitely be rumors about why your mother isn’t at the ceremony today. Or why she wasn’t doing her job the night of the storm,” he says, his lips within a whisper of my jaw. “Someone’s bound to start asking questions, don’t you think? They’re already suspicious with her being an outsider. Of course, if you’re mine, no one’s going to look too deeply.”

  He pulls back and examines me, his face an ugly jumble of anger and glee.

  “Sometimes things just work out the way they’re supposed to, Gabrielle,” he says in my ear. “Sometimes you’ve got to learn to give in to the inevitable.”

  The word sparks in my mind: inevitable. It was the same thing Cira said, the same excuse she used for giving up. Fire begins to storm inside me, seeping through my muscles, causing me to clench my jaw until I feel as though my teeth will break.

  It’s the need to do something—anything—to regain control of myself, of my situation, of this world and this man in front of me.

  I turn my head toward him until our lips are barely touching. I lean in ever so slightly, feeling his hips press against mine. I can sense his smug satisfaction. He thinks he’s won. He thinks I’m his. The taste of it is sour and acrid in my mouth.

  And then I let my body go limp, forcing his arms to hold me still. It throws him off balance on his bad leg and for just a moment his hand loosens around my wrist.

  I don’t think. I don’t hesitate. I just reach for Elias’s knife on my hip and flick my arm until the blade is pressed against Daniel’s flesh.

  Time stops. I’m sure the waves on the beach pause before crashing, the trees stop their tussle with the wind and every bird turns our way. Daniel’s eyes open wide, the realization closing in fast.

  It’s so much easier than I ever thought it would be to slide the knife into his body, to do it without thinking. And at the same time it’s so much harder to force the blade to slice the skin, cut through muscle and glide along bone.

  His body tenses, his lips purse. And then my muscles contract, driving Elias’s blade deeper.

  We stand together for a moment, he and I. I feel the heat seeping from him, the damp spilling onto my chest and stomach. We’re suspended just that one heartbeat: him and me and nothing else. His life everywhere around us.

  I remember then all the times I’d seen this boy made fun of. All the times I watched as the other kids taunted him. Spat insults at him. All the times I turned my head, pretending not to notice him watching me. All the times I never defended him.

  I remember when he stepped forward to join the Recruiters and they rejected him in front of the entire town because of his bad leg. I remember the humiliation of it as if I can taste it.

  I want to tell him I’m sorry. For this and for everything. But I can’t find the words. He starts to slump and I help him to the ground. He doesn’t grab for me or try to stop me as I pull the blade free. He says nothing as I turn away and climb the Barrier.

  When I’m at the top, just about to jump over to the other side, I look down at him. Hands clutched over a blooming red on his chest. His bad leg tucked underneath him. His eyes on me.

  I know in that instant we’ll forever be connected. It’s as if we’re the same person sharing the same blood. I want to tell him I’m sorry, to beg forgiveness, but he just stares at me.

  And then I jump over the wall and am careening through the amusement park to find Catcher. I don’t care that I’m covered in blood, that the scent of it will draw the Mudo even more. I only care about Catcher and running from the terror of what I’ve just done.

  I race through the cracked streets of the ruins, trying to find my way back to Catcher’s. This time it’s daylight and I see the distinctions I missed when I was here the other night. I weave through the streets until I find Catcher’s building and then I take the steps two at a time, not caring about the darkness or my reeling heart.

  At the landing outside the closed door to his room I force myself to stop and wipe my sweating hands along the edge of my shirt. My fingers tremble slightly as I grip Elias’s knife in front of me.

  After coming all this way, after everything I’ve risked, I’m terrified to open the door. What if he’s died and Returned and I have to kill him? I don’t know if I could. What if I fail the way I did with Mellie? The way I did on the beach?

  I press my ear to the door, the air in the hallway musty and still. Sweat drips along my spine. I
can’t hear anything. I take a shaky breath and push it open.

  I stand in the doorway and stare, dropping the bloody knife in despair. The room is empty. For a moment I wonder if I’m in the wrong place. If in my terror and fear I ran to the wrong building, got turned around in the ruins the way I had before. But I can still smell a hint of him in the air. I can still see fragments of his presence around me. The dust on the windowsill is scattered where he stood, his hands pressed against the opening as he stared out toward the lighthouse and the town.

  He’s gone. The room is silent. I collapse onto the floor, overwhelmed.

  He wouldn’t have left. He wouldn’t have gone anywhere—he knew I was coming back. Which means that Elias must have been here. I squeeze my eyes closed. I don’t want to imagine Catcher as one of the Souler Mudo; I don’t want to think of his mangled face. Of the pleading moan. Of him being tugged around on a leash.

  I don’t want to think that Elias could have done that to him. I’ve been hoping that Elias was somehow different.

  I let my head fall back against the wall, banging it to get the image of Catcher as Mudo out of my mind. But it doesn’t work. I failed him. Just as I failed Cira by leaving her behind. And my mother by letting her go into the Forest alone. And everyone else.

  I have to find him. I promised him I wouldn’t let him be Mudo. I have to at least follow through with that.

  Pulling myself to my feet, I stumble back into the dark hallway, down the stairs and into the blazing midday. I retrace my steps through the streets toward where I saw the Soulers last, my feet dragging and the sun scorching my head.

  Heat hovers along the stretch of concrete, rising and brushing my legs as I walk toward the three arches of the amphitheater. As before, I tuck myself in the shadow of one of the arches, creeping forward on my hands and knees, my knuckles scraping the ground where I clutch my knife. I hear the moans before I see anything. The remains of the Souler Mudo, the ones they left behind when they came to Vista, are all tied in a pack in the shade of the stage’s large dome.