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Edge of Mercy (Young Adult Dystopian)(Volume 1) (The Mercy Series)

Page 7

by Marks, C. C.


  A wild thought occurred. I could sneak down the corridor and see for myself what made the noise. If it were a Draghoul loose in the building, I might be able to warn the others before it attacked. Maybe then they would think twice before sending me outside the walls. If I saved lives, my worth in the community might rise.

  Of course, if something were there, I could die before I got the chance to warn anyone. The Draghoul were fast and quiet when they wanted to be. They were excellent hunters. I knew that firsthand.

  I rubbed a hand over the back of my aching neck and shoulders. It was highly possible I was dead anyway. My fate here was precarious most days. All the more reason to at least take a chance.

  I inched my way to a standing position, keeping an eye on the guards. They were talking and laughing over something one was holding out to the other. Just as I expected, they didn’t even glance up as I stepped into the dark corridor and moved out of sight.

  Almost immediately, the thought that I’d made a massive mistake crashed over me. I’d left my flashlight in Quillen’s room last time I was there. Just inches ahead of me was completely blacked out, and I moved forward at a pace to match the speed of growing crops. Inch by inch, I felt my way along the wall, listening for sounds of life, or walking death, or whatever you called it.

  This was stupid. Why was I pushing myself into almost certain danger? What was I trying to prove?

  I’d just about made the decision to turn around and head back to the safety of the light behind me when I spotted a pinprick of light ahead of me to the left. Where there was light around here, there was probably life.

  With a little more purpose than before, I carefully made my way toward the light, sliding over broken pieces of the floor. The dark hindered my progress, but my confidence grew as I closed in, and soon I could see a door cracked open just enough to allow a small thread of light to spill out.

  Cautiously, I opened the door, the muscles in my legs twitching with an urgency to run if necessary. Once the door swung free, I eased inside and my gaze slowly drifted to every corner.

  The space overflowed with personal items. No one living or dead stirred inside the room. On a table to the right of the door, a lamp stood, emitting the light that had drawn me. Beside it was a rumpled bed that could sleep at least two, maybe more, but I hadn’t seen a bed like that since I was a child. The blankets were wadded up and falling over the side, as if the owner had only just crawled out from under them. Did someone in the community stay here? At the foot of the bed, a trunk sat on its side, flung open, the contents spilled and scattered over the floor.

  My curiosity got the better of me, and I stepped toward the items laid out everywhere around the wooden trunk. With a glance, I noticed something was off that I couldn’t quite grasp, but the various pieces lying in the floor seemed wrong somehow.

  As I got closer, the reason became clear. The items were feminine. They clearly belonged to a woman, and my confusion was understandable since no women resided here any longer. At least that I knew of. Star was the only known girl, so who did these things belong to? Was there another girl hiding in boy’s clothes? Maybe I wasn’t as alone as I thought.

  I sunk down to my knees and ran my hands over the items spread out on the floor. Inquisitiveness pushing at me, I picked up a gold chain that slid through my fingers like sand, and as I lifted it, an oval pendant swung around and tangled around my wrist. With my other hand, I grasped it and raised it to have a closer look. Thick and weighty for a necklace, I noticed a hinged clasp on the outer portion of the oval. It was a locket.

  Though I chewed my fingernails practically to the quick, what little I had left, I used to pry the clasp free and open the locket wide. A small picture of a smiling girl looked back at me from one side and the face of a tiny boy from the other. Both faces seemed familiar, but I hadn’t seen either one that I knew of. I supposed the boy could be one of the men from the community, grown and hardly recognizable now.

  I closed it and carefully placed it about where it had lain before. It felt strange snooping through someone else’s private belongings, and seeing the smiling faces in the pictures, I expected an angry accuser to round the corner into the room at any moment, catching me nosing through his…or her…stuff. I knew I should probably leave before whoever lived here returned, but then my gaze fell on a couple curious objects.

  A bright purple brush with dark hair still wrapped around the long, thin plastic bristles stood out, and a tubular appliance, metallic on one side and plastic on the other—a curling iron—like the one my mother used caught my attention. A winding cord that ended in two prongs for a socket lay on the floor, and my hands itched to find someplace to put that plug. If the lamp worked, more than likely there was an electric current running through this room. We were told the electrical outlets were all useless, to avoid them. Obviously, if the lamp were any indicator, the electricity ran throughout the building, not just through the shockwall—the electrified fence surrounding our building, keeping the Draghoul out at night.

  My hand tight around the appliance, I crawled toward the table with the lamp on it. With purpose, I lifted the cloth covering the table, moving it out of the way and spotted my target. My hand shook as I lined up the metal prongs and the holes in the wall. I hadn’t used a wall outlet since I was barely a teen.

  I felt the prongs slide into place and jerked my hand away, afraid the current might escape the outlet, and I’d feel its power in reality. My breath sawed in and out rapidly with excitement. The button on the plastic part of the appliance gave with a slight click as I pushed it, and a light glowed red.

  I knew enough to hold the plastic end, and within seconds, I felt it begin to heat up. Electricity clearly flowed through the walls of the whole building.

  A laugh escaped my lips and fell into the silence of the room. I looked around guiltily, expecting someone to finally jump out and yell at me for pilfering through his…or her…belongings. Yet, the room remained quiet, and I relaxed again.

  Before the appliance got too hot, I clicked the button again and the red light switched off. I carefully laid it on top of the cloth-covered table. Probably wasn’t the best place to leave it, so I knew I’d have to remember to put it back near the trunk when it cooled completely.

  I made my way back to the trunk. Colorful dresses and flowery shirts were still neatly folded but had fallen over on the floor. A few books with life-like photographs of men and women on the cover also lay scattered around the area. I stood in awe of what I’d found. These items proved, at least at one time, women had lived here in the community. What happened to them? Were some still here? Hidden in the depths of the building?

  My gaze caught on the red-checked cover of a book under the others. It looked oddly out of place. I stooped down and pulled it free, opening it to somewhere in the middle where hand-written page after hand-written page flowed in a loopy script I hadn’t seen in a very long time.

  How do you know when a boy likes you? Every time our eyes meet, my belly flips-flops, and I wonder if he feels the same. I tried to ask my mother about it, but she just said, “Cassie, these are not the days to worry about such nonsense.” I can’t ask my father or brother, not that I’d want to, but…

  I flipped a few more pages.

  The attacks are getting worse. I don’t know how much longer our defenses will hold. I can tell mother is scared, even though she’s trying to stay strong for Vic and me. Something has to be done. The Council is discussing the situation behind closed doors, and I’m afraid I know what their solution will be.

  A noise outside the room brought me back to reality. Someone in a hallway close by was whistling. I tucked the book under my arm and, still on my hands and knees, carefully looked around the door frame, but it was completely dark. I couldn’t see anyone or anything.

  I stood and slipped into the darkness and found the shadows, eased back toward where I remembered the end of the hallway being, but as I turned a corner, I could hear someone approach
ing me. I couldn’t see my hand in front of me, but I could hear the footsteps in the dark to my right. Apparently, he didn’t have a light either, but his carefree whistle and easy pace showed he’d walked this path before.

  Aware that I didn’t know if it was a member of the community or someone who posed a danger, I did my best to slow my erratic breathing and hold completely still. As if it would help, I pushed myself into the wall as much as I could and closed my eyes.

  I held my breath when the person walked by me, just a few feet away. Whoever it was passed without noticing me, and as soon as I felt alone again, I allowed myself to breathe normally and inched back until I could peek around the corner and catch a glimpse of whoever was moving around down here. As he stepped into the scant light slipping from the room from which I’d just exited, he turned, and I saw his face. I’d always pictured the Council keeping Victor in a large, cushioned room, so he couldn’t hurt himself or others. When we saw him, I actually assumed he’d somehow slipped his guards. But, I could see clearly he came and went as easily as anyone else in the community. Was this the Vic from the journal? It had to be. The journal still made little sense, and I had to wonder about the contents of the tipped-over trunk. They obviously didn’t belong to him, but then who did they belong to?

  The journal under my arm held the answers. I was sure.

  I slowly made my way through previous turns, back toward the hallway with the guards, who still ignored me as I stepped into the light. Probably hadn’t even notice I’d gone.

  The weight of the book felt heavy under my arm. Impatience to read more from the journal knocked at my brain. It would surely clear up questions, but I was certain I’d get in trouble for simply possessing it. What would I tell the Council this time? It’s mine. I brought it with me when I came here. Just a few lines from it would prove that was a lie.

  Who did it belong to? The owner of the journal could announce my lie before the Council even opened it to see the words. Would it be missed? Would the community be called on to search for it?

  I felt like I had Draghoul venom under my arm. It’d been stupid to take it. Somehow I needed to get the book back to that room, and I had to do it before whoever lived there noticed it was missing. Suddenly, my stomach churned. I felt like I was going to be sick. I hadn’t left everything where I’d found it. The curling iron had still been on the table beside the bed when I’d hurried out of the room.

  It was bad to bring a stranger into the community, but it was worse to steal from a community member. Both of these together would mean certain expulsion from the community. I was as good as Draghoul food.

  Chapter 6

  Several tense minutes passed as I waited in the hallway. My head ached when I glanced at the guards at the other end. What should I do? The book had to go—right now, but I couldn’t chance bumping into the owner. Maybe I could drop it in one of the dark hallways, just leave it. Even if it were found, no one would know who put it there. My mind made up, I crossed the hall, determined to enter the darkness once again.

  “Charlie, the Council’s ready for you again.”

  I stopped and turned toward the guards and Jonas between them, his stern eyes zeroed in on me. For a moment, I froze, not sure whether I should still make a break for the hallway to dump the stupid book before anyone discovered I had it. Yet, I knew the guards would chase me and then it would be obvious I’d done something wrong. Once they found the book, there’d be no denying I’d been the one who’d dropped it.

  Hesitantly, I stepped toward the council member, the book under my arm burning with dooming awareness. One false move and everything I’d done to protect Star and me would be for nothing. I had to stand before the Council while they pronounced my consequence for disobeying the rules, all the while holding an item certainly forbidden to possess, blatantly breaking their rules right in front of them.

  My walk into the Council chambers felt like the longest walk I’d ever taken. I felt their eyes boring into me as I approached the council table. Beside me, one of the guards touched my elbow and I jerked slightly. Ugh! If I didn’t chill out, my odd reactions would give me away. Maybe they’d believe I was nervous. At any rate, I needed to calm myself down before they got suspicious.

  As I made my way to the center of the room, I noticed Zeke already there, his head bowed low. Had they brought him in through another entrance? I hadn’t seen him walk in at all.

  Once I stood beside Zeke, Jonas rose from his seat and stared, emotionless. “Ezekiel Harris, Charles Little, you have both admitted guilt in breaking our rule of allowing an outsider into the community. The Council has discussed the matter and determined that your consequence will be one week of nightwatch.”

  My breath escaped me in a rush, and the book under my arm nearly slipped free. I caught it before it could fall at my feet and doom me further. Nightwatch? It wasn’t putting me outside the wall, but it was the next worst thing. For one week, Zeke and I would be in charge of turning on the power for the shockwall, the electric fence surrounding the building and grounds, and rushing to the one tower with a trapdoor into a tunnel, leading to the safety of the sanctuary. If my timing was off, even a little bit, I might find myself outside the building after sunset, face-to-face with a vicious Draghoul.

  “You begin in half an hour. Report to the front door at that time. You may go.”

  Dismissed. We’ve decided to put your life in danger to make up for your mistake. Now go away. At least that’s what I heard. I scanned the reaction of the council members. All were gazing at the table or their hands. Only Jonas and Noah, Zeke’s uncle, actually made eye contact. It was almost as if we were nothing more than a nuisance in their routine. The sooner we were gone, the better.

  I turned to go, and Zeke did the same, but before we could speed through the door, Jonas spoke to the guards, “Bring the woman.”

  I swiveled my head around and watched as another door opened. The woman was brought through with a guard on each side. Wide eyes, tight lips, tense muscles, her fear was etched on every inch of her face and body, and it was my fault.

  One thing was clear to me though. If I hadn’t brought her here, she would have been dead tonight anyway. At least here there was always a chance the community would save her—like they did for me.

  Zeke pulled me the rest of the way through the door and led me past the guards, toward the dining hall. But before we could climb the stairs, he pulled me down another hallway where I’d never gone. We raced around, moving back in the direction of the council room but down a hallway that swung around behind it.

  His hand tightened around my elbow, and with an ease that told me he’d done this before, he eased open a sliding panel the size of a door that I would never notice no matter how many times I passed it. He slipped inside, and after only a moment’s hesitation, I slid in after him.

  The room inside was tiny, barely large enough for the two of us, but I knew why he’d brought me here. Though I hadn’t known where to find it, I knew the room existed. It was a secret room where we could hear the Council’s decision about the woman.

  Escape hatches and secret rooms were necessary to our way of life. They were installed everywhere I accessed in and even outside of the community. They were throughout the building, in the forest in various places surrounding the outer wall. There were even underground tunnels leading from the planting fields to an escape hatch built in the ground below the back of the outer wall. And though I didn’t know the exact location of most of them, when you had to get gone at a moment's notice, an escape hatch was the thing. I figured I’d just follow Zeke when it was time to get away. But we weren't escaping right now. We were just evading and eavesdropping, mostly eavesdropping.

  "This is awesome. The trouble we'd be in if the Council knew we were listening right now..."

  My stomach rolled at Zeke's words. His whisper oozed excitement, but he didn't have to live inside my head, with my stupid nightmares. Sure, if he got caught, his council-sitting uncle would hav
e him cleared in no time. But I didn't have anyone on my side. I was relatively new to the community, having straggled in with monsters at our heels, a little over eight months ago with my mother in labor. The baby and I survived. My mother died that night. Now my sister and I lived at the mercy of the community, and from what I'd seen so far, they didn't have much mercy to spare.

  "What's the worst that will happen if we're caught? Will they throw us outside the wall?" My worst fear.

  He shrugged his wide shoulders. They'd gotten wider since the beginning when he’d become my only friend while I remained thin as a winter spindle tree. For now nobody seemed to notice, but I lived in constant fear that someone would.

  "Nah. I don't think so. My uncle wouldn't let them throw me out."

  I waited a beat for him to go on, but when he didn't, I prompted, "What about me, Zeke?"

  "Well, Charlie-boy, you know I got your back. Who would do my laundry if they threw you out?"

  Laundry? That's what I was to him—laundry? When given a choice, I’d picked laundry as my evening chore on purpose. It was a solitary chore, so it gave me a chance to clean myself thoroughly without prying eyes. For obvious reasons, I couldn’t use the showers with the rest of the community, but I also couldn’t walk around filthy all the time. Fortunately, I’d discovered a deep sink with running water, and I used it to wash each evening. Of course, the access to the scraps of cloth I needed each month was invaluable as well. I didn't love doing laundry, but it gave me a little more security and made this existence a little more bearable.

  Crouched in close proximity to each other like we were, I saw an opportunity to get back at him for his laundry comment. I bumped his shoulder with mine and stifled a laugh as he threw his hands wide and wobbled back and forth on the balls of his feet, trying to regain his balance. It was a futile attempt though, and he went down with a muffled thump. Just as he lifted his hands and made a motion to push me back, we heard pounding—the signal that the meeting had begun, so we turned our attention to the gathering on the other side of the wall.

 

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