Defect

by Kerekes, Ryann

  The next time I wake up, it’s dark out again. Sage is sitting by the fire knitting. It’s her humming that woke me, I realize.

  “What are you making?” I ask.

  She startles at my voice. “Heavens – I thought you were out cold.” She stands and walks to the side of the bed. She dangles a half-made stocking cap from the end of her knitting needle for me to see. “Are you feeling up for something to eat?”

  My stomach groans at the mention of food. I nod.

  She goes to the fire and ladles a cup full of steaming broth into a mug. My mouth waters in anticipation of something warm to fill my stomach.

  She sets it on the table beside the bed. “Let it cool,” she says, reading the disappointment on my face. “So what brings you here, Eve?”

  I flinch. I don’t remember telling her my name.

  “You were talking in your sleep,” she explains at my reaction. It seems unlikely that I’d said my own name, but I let it go. “You had to be pretty desperate to do this to yourself.” She lifts my hand, inspecting my wrist. After looking the bandage over, she lays it carefully back by my side.

  I don’t explain that I didn’t do it to myself, but my mind flashes back to the supply closet, the look of concentration on Will’s face and passing out when I saw all the blood.

  Sage distracts me from the memory. “It was quite infected when you got here. We seem to have gotten it under control. Kai’s been here nearly every day to tend to you.”

  I’m not sure who Kai is, but I mumble a thank you. Rena was right about them being friendly here, but still, I’m not sure what to tell her – how honest to be. She helps me sit up and hands me the cup of broth. For several minutes, I savor the feel of the warm mug in my hands and the salty burn of the watery broth sliding down my throat. I decide she can probably be trusted since she’s already harboring a Defect in her house. I drink the mugful of broth, and Sage refills it. Then I tell her my story.

  I tell her about my mindscan result, and that I quickly became a target inside the compound. I don’t tell her about the capital’s interest in me, or the movement that was starting there, or that I escaped the night before they planned to kill me. It seems like too much to lead in with.

  Her eyes are a mix of concern and confusion. “You came all that way by yourself?”

  I nod. She’s speechless. Either because I’m stupid or amazing, I can’t tell. Maybe a little of both?

  “My …” I don’t know what to call him. “Friend,” I decide. “He’s coming, too. He’ll be a few days behind me.” As soon as I say it, I realize I’ve already been here a few days. And suddenly, I don’t like the way she’s looking at me. It’s a mix of pity and sadness. She breaks eye contact, ducking her head to pull at a loose thread on the blanket. “Sage?” She doesn’t respond. “If Will said he would come for me, he’ll come,” I say, more to convince myself than her.

  “Of course he will,” she says softly, her voice full of knowing sadness. “Of course.” She pats the top of my hand.

  My whole being aches, not just my body, but also my heart, my very soul. They have taken everything I am. They’ve found a way to use every emotion I have against me. I remember my mother’s words: They can only take what you give them. I search for a way to make her advice apply to this situation, just like it had for all the others. I knew what I’d never let them take – what I wouldn’t part with. My love for Will.

  I lie back against the pillow, my stomach full of the warm broth and close my eyes. I drift to sleep with the memory of Will’s lips pressed to mine.

  ***

  End of Part 1

  Part II

  Lips that taste of tears are the best for kissing.

  - Unknown

  His lips hover over mine, tentatively, carefully like he’s unsure and waiting to see what I think. My mind, even in its numb state, registers something’s wrong. His mouth seals over mine calmly, carefully. The fire I’m used to is missing. Completely gone. Taken from me. Everything has changed. And I fear it will never be the same again.

  Chapter 29

  I sense my welcome with Sage is already wearing thin. In the few short weeks I’ve been here, I’ve done little more than lie in bed, curled on my side staring blankly at the wall. She’s cooked and fed me each meal, helped to bathe me every few days in the large copper tub and made sure Kai came every day to tend to my injuries. Not that he needed any encouragement. My arrival here is the most interesting thing that’s happened to this outpost in years, according to Sage. And Kai, though just two years older than me, is the healer here.

  I knew I would need to summon my strength and get out of bed for good. I was over the dehydration and my wounds were healing nicely thanks to Kai’s treatments. But first I’d have to remember how to be brave, remember how to be that girl I’d been just weeks ago. And remembering that meant remembering Will. And the loss of Will wasn’t something I was ready to accept.

  A million horrible scenarios had played through my mind – Will lost in the woods trying to find me, or being executed at the compound, or injured and starving on his way to me – so instead of focusing on what became of him, why he’s not here with me now, I focus on the memories we share. His strong, knowing hands as he taught me to protect myself, his callused hands softly moving over my skin, the way his damp kisses stole my breath and pierced my heart. And when I remember that side of Will, I remember my strength. The strength I summoned to compete against the other recruits, and fought my way through the physical challenges. It seems like such a long time ago.

  My first several days I held onto hope that Will was still coming, but the days turned into a week, then two weeks. It became too painful to hope, and I let that last tiny bit of hope shrivel and die inside me. It was time to stop pretending. It was time to get out of Sage’s bed.

  Will and Rena had risked everything to get me to safety and I know this is a gift I cannot waste. I want to honor their sacrifice, to honor Will by living.

  For someone I’d been living with, I knew surprisingly little about Sage. She was quiet, aside from her humming, which was constant. She often sat by the window knitting, and during Kai’s visits she maintained a friendly, yet no nonsense banter with him. He’d give me a knowing smile or roll his eyes, like we were sharing some secret. But I never talked to him more than necessary. More than providing simple answers to his questions about my injuries or how I was feeling. I hated the softness in his eyes, the pity for the poor, broken girl I appeared to be.

  This morning, Sage is sitting by the window sipping from a steaming mug with a broken handle. As if she senses me watching her, she turns in my direction. She stares back, blinking a few times but not speaking. I know it’s only a matter of time before Sage’s hospitality and patience wear away. Unwilling to deal with any of that just now, I close my eyes again and slip off to sleep.

  ***

  I’m not ready to open my eyes yet. I’m having another dream of Will. But the blankets are pulled from my legs, leaving me exposed in the chilly early morning air.

  “Kai will be here in a little bit.” Sage neatly folds the blanket down at the end of the bed so I won’t want to mess it up by pulling it back over me. This is Sage’s way of telling me it’s time to get up. There’ve been many times over the past two weeks that I’ve been equal parts grateful and resentful of her. Though she’s cared for me and fed me, she’s never babied me. Some would call it tough love. I think it’s just her personality though.

  Kai has come nearly every day to see me. His piercing blue eyes and big smile complete with dimples ooze kindness. But his appearances irritate me. He fawns over me too much, acts too kind, tends to my wounds with a gentleness I don’t deserve. I want to hurt on the outside as bad as I hurt on the inside. The hole ripping me in two isn’t something that can be fixed. A broken heart can’t be nursed back to health. Can it?

  Sage’s gruff demeanor softens when Kai is in her home. She pulls a stool over to the bed for him, brings him tea and ask
s him endless questions. None of them are about me.

  A dull knock on the door sends Sage leaping from her chair. I manage to sit up on the bed and straighten my clothes as Kai steps into view. His eyes are on me, even as he politely nods to Sage and answers her questions.

  Kai, with his longish sandy blonde hair that hangs in his bright blue eyes, couldn’t be more different from Will’s dark eyes and hardened features. Even that my brain notes this comparison to Will annoys me.

  Sage stands over the bed where I’m sitting. “There’s nothing wrong with you anymore. Go on and let Kai show you around today.”

  Her words shouldn’t stun me, yet they do. Kai’s eyes flash to mine, seeking, before he responds to Sage’s request to take me out. I nod once and Kai offers me his arm. “We won’t go far. We’ll just take a stroll through the village.”

  I nod again and place my hand on his forearm. “Okay.” My legs are weak and shaky from lack of use, and I let him help me to the door. After slipping into my shoes, we head outside. The direct sunlight is harsh and unwelcome. Being outside reminds me of running laps with Will. I couldn’t run right now to save my life. Good thing I don’t have to. Their little village appears safe and well-orgaznied. A grouping of several small cabins sit off in the distance. Sage’s cabin is the only one on this side of the hill. I hadn’t realized she kept herself separated like this – but I guess it makes sense; she seems like a loner.

  Kai leads me down the worn trail toward the center of the village and the cabins, and I can see people out and about. My stomach cramps at the sight of them. As we get closer, mothers usher their children inside and grown men stand to watch me pass, their eyes leaping to my tattoo. They watch me like a caged animal and if I didn’t know better, I’d think they’re afraid of me.

  I sense a shift in the air around me. It’s tense and not at all comfortable.

  Kai releases a deep sigh. “This is ridiculous,” he mutters under his breath. He grabs my hand and holds it firmly in his. For a moment I consider breaking the connection, until I realize this is his way of showing them I don’t pose a threat. Eyes widen and travel between me and Kai in understanding.

  Great now everyone probably thinks we’re a couple. But I suppose it’s better than them thinking I’m about to snap and take out half the village. As if I could even if I wanted to. I’m already tired from walking the hundred paces from Sage’s cottage. I tug on Kai’s hand and kind blue eyes meet mine.

  “Can you take me somewhere else?”

  He nods in understanding. “Of course.”

  Even though I don’t want to be here, having a tour guide is nice. And one afternoon out of Sage’s dusty home won’t kill me. I’m liable to develop bed sores if I spend any more time lying there.

  Kai gives my hand a tug. “Think you can make it a little farther?”

  I nod.

  “I’ll show you where I found you.”

  “You found me?”

  He nods.

  I guess I hadn’t thought of who had stumbled across me, or exactly where I’d been found. Kai leads me over a ridge and the sun chooses that moment to grace us with its presence. The entire meadow is awash in pretty orange light. Little white flowers erupt from the ground and the tall grasses swish and sway in the breeze, whispering Will’s name. My chest gets tight and I sink to the ground, the hard earth biting into my knees.

  “Eve?” Kai drops down beside me, lifting my chin. “What is it? Should I take you back?”

  A single tear escapes and drops to the ground. I shake my head. “No. Not yet.”

  He folds me into his arms, and I don’t protest. I can’t. It’s not like when Will held me, but it’s something. At least I don’t feel quite so alone. “Come here.” He lifts me from the ground and carries me several paces before setting me on my feet. “This is where I found you. Surrounded by wildflowers, the sun streaming down on you. I thought you were an angel at first.” He smiles shyly.

  I look down at my feet. His kindness toward me is misplaced. I’m not who he thinks I am. I’m an imposter. “I shouldn’t be here.” I swallow the emotion down.

  “I’ll take you back now.”

  I simply nod.

  Kai stoops to the ground and plucks one of the white flowers. “Here. For you.” He holds it out as a peace offering.

  I take the flower, balancing the delicate weight of it in my palm, and can’t help but remember Will picking wild edible plants for me. This flower in comparison feels useless, silly.

  Chapter 30

  ~ Six Months Later ~

  Winter passed in a series of frigid nights spent around the hearth, watching glittering white snow dropping from the sky and lots of knitting with Sage. Spring has brought back the brilliance and warmth of the sun and hope blooms in my heart.

  As I suspected, my welcome at Sage’s quickly ran its course and I’ve now been living in a spare room at Kai’s for the past several months. I pretend not to notice the way he looks at me while I’m cooking, or when I emerge from the bathroom scrubbed pink with still-damp hair, or the way he silently grins when I hum to myself. A habit that I unfortunately picked up from Sage.

  A lot had changed in the six months I’d been living at the outpost. The most significant being that I knew with certainty Will wasn’t coming. My heart had sealed itself off, all hope abandoned. I’d earned a spot amongst my new people, even if I still didn’t feel like one of them – I was a contributing member, something Sage insisted upon. I rejected many of the things she thought were women’s work – cooking and gardening and instead helped build houses and went on hunting expeditions with the men, thanks to my passable aim and skill with weapons due to Will’s lessons.

  Living with Kai, I’d also begun to help with some of his duties as healer. I’d seen him birth a baby, treat countless bumps and minor contusions, and say a last blessing for a dying man when nothing more could be done.

  Thankfully my days were filled with activity and work. It was enough of a distraction that I could carry on, even if it wasn’t fully living. But nights…nights were a different story. The moon taunted me, its gorgeous bluish light beckoning me to remember evenings with Will, or in lesser instances, my mother.

  The fragrant springtime breeze through the open window lulls me into remembering my time spent in the meadow with Will, my sore muscles from the manual labor always a reminder of my time at the compound. They say that time heals all wounds, but I’ve found that’s a farce. I am not healed. Numb, maybe. Time makes you numb to the pain, but it doesn’t make you forget.

  When I rise in the morning, grumpy after another restless night, Kai is packing his bag in the small kitchen. He looks me over, still dressed in my bedclothes, which consist of an old t-shirt of his. His gaze lingers at my bare thighs where the shirt stops and his lips part as he pulls in a shuddering breath. I don’t mind Kai looking at me. I know he’s kind and good-natured. I know he deserves love and desires a good woman, but I also know that I am not that woman. After a second his eyes snap back up to mine and his hands continue stuffing various implements into his bag. “Elliot is sick. Do you want to come with me?” he asks.

  Elliot is a toddler and easily my favorite person here. He doesn’t know about my past, he doesn’t care about my tattoo or the jagged scar on my wrist, he just accepts me. Besides time with him guarantees a distraction. “Sure. Just let me change.”

  Kai nods and finishes packing his bag while I go to my room to change. My clothes are secondhand pieces from the women and even some of the children, since I never gained back the weight I lost on the journey here. I slip a soft cotton shirt over my head, and step into a pair of jeans. Both knees are shredded, but it doesn’t matter to me. They’re comfortable.

  When Kai and I set off, we see a group of men returning to the outpost at the edge of the woods. Kai points. “They’re back.” They pull a heavy sled laden with supplies and large backpacks bounce on each of their backs. It appears their journey was successful. That will mean more antibio
tics, supplies, dehydrated foods and critical tools. I never knew that trade existed between those on either side of the fence. It was just another thing the capital didn’t want us to know. Cooperation and humanity still exists, even if they liked to pretend it doesn’t.

  We reach the little cottage, and Kai taps lightly on the door, then pushes it open. He’s close friends with Elliott’s parents. They’re actually not much older than we are. Eli is eighteen, like Kai, and Fern is twenty. Before Eli moved here a few years ago, Fern and Kai were a couple, and I can tell by the way Kai looks at her that he wishes they still were. But Kai is never bitter. He doesn’t have a vindictive bone in his body.

  We enter the front room and Fern stands to greet us, pressing a kiss to each of our cheeks. She looks horrible, tired and weary with dark circles marring the skin beneath her eyes. She hasn’t slept. “He’s in our bed,” she says, and leads us down the hall.

  The room is dim without any candles or lanterns burning and the curtains firmly shut. It takes my eyes a second to adjust. Eli is cradling little Elliott in his arms. My heart clinches seeing the sweet toddler, who normally doesn’t sit still, weak and non-responsive.

  Kai, sure and confident as ever, takes Elliott from his father, lying him down on the unmade bed. Needing something to do with my hands, I open Kai’s bag and set out various things I think he might want. A piece of cloth, a vial and a syringe. Kai’s eyes meet mine, as if saying thank you. I nod once. You’re welcome. Just make him better.

  Kai’s large fingers are so gentle against the baby’s neck and wrist, feeling for a pulse, that I know must be weak based on Kai’s frown.

  I wonder if this will be my life – living on this outpost with Kai, maybe having a baby of my own someday. A baby that can be taken from you by the simplest of illnesses because of a government that forces outsiders to live without necessities like immunizations and medicines. The thought does not sit well. My stomach is a tangle of nerves, in fact. Is it possible to live a life when your heart and soul is on the other side of a fence?