The Wilds

by Donna Augustine

  I darted off in the opposite direction as if I hadn’t seen her, and maybe by some stretch she didn’t know I had. I moved across the field that led to absolutely nowhere but I couldn’t outrun the old lady as she yelled across the distance, “Don’t you run from me, missy,” while she waved the brush in her hand.

  I didn’t know what it was about Fudge, but I stopped in my tracks. Anyone else and I would’ve been flipping them the bird, and I resented every frozen moment of it.

  “Hi, Fudge.”

  “You’re coming back in the house with me right now. God only knows how long it’ll take to straighten out this mess,” she said, and was trying to drag the brush through my hair even as she spoke.

  It was still the tangled mess it had been earlier this morning when Dax had criticized it. The first thing I’d done after we’d gotten back was go into my borrowed room and look for a brush but then I’d stopped. How pathetic was I to let some guy’s opinion count for so much? This was my hair and he could take it or leave it. I wasn’t looking to impress anyone.

  “Did Dax send you after me?”

  “No, why? By that comment I’m guessing he said something? You think he’s the only one that noticed this mess?”

  I tried to pull my head of hair away but she wouldn’t let go of the brush already lodged into it. The only thing I accomplished was moving us both a couple feet to the left. “There’s nothing wrong with trying to look pretty,” Fudge informed me.

  “I don’t care what people think of me.” I tried another evasive dodge of the brush.

  “Of course you do.” Fudge was much more agile than she looked.

  “Fine. I’ll do it myself,” I huffed, trying to get the brush from her while avoiding the onlookers.

  “It’s too knotted. You need help.”

  “Really, I don’t.”

  Fudge utterly ignored me. I’d been beaten more times than I could count in my life and never gave an inch, but the urge to whine was strong as she took that brush to my hair. Of course I didn’t whine, because that would be, well, frankly, just too embarrassing. But so was letting this lady brush my hair. What was becoming of me?

  I should tell her to get the hell off me but her hands were all bent with arthritis and she’d run after me like… Actually, I wasn’t exactly sure what she ran after me like, since I’d only had people running after me to kick my ass, but it was good, whatever it was.

  I’d always thought that if someone ever broke my will to theirs, they were going to be one mean son of a bitch and they’d have beaten me until I couldn’t stand. It appeared that I’d seriously overestimated myself.

  “Can we at least go inside?” I asked, and even my tone made it hard to keep my head up.

  “Of course, dear.”

  At least she was merciful in her victory. I was laid low by grandma. This was pathetic.

  * * *

  The sounds of the feast floated up through the window of my bedroom and so did the smells. It was weird how my nose recognized good food that my taste buds had never experienced.

  The party had been going on for a little while already as I moved in front of the full-length mirror in the room. It was the first time I’d ever seen all the parts of me at once, besides in a window’s nighttime reflection.

  My hair looked okay I guess, but the pants bagged on me and I realized that I wasn’t just skinnier than Lucy, I looked downright scrawny compared to her, like a stick figure with bulges coming out here and there. The unfitted dresses of the compound had been more flattering than what I was currently wearing because at least they streamlined the differences.

  I turned from my image. It didn’t matter. I knew that I hadn’t been left alone by the guards because I’d been a raving beauty. Looks didn’t matter that much anyway. They weren’t what counted, and when I walked into this party, it wasn’t my hair or outfit they’d be looking at anyway. I tugged the gloves on my hands, hating how damp my palms felt.

  I headed down the stairs, following the laughter and music to the back of the house. There had to be close to a hundred people there, all having a good time, smiling and laughing. The area was lit by several fires. This was just as I’d imagined a party would look like in my mind. They all had glasses in hand and some of them were eating. I couldn’t get over the smells. I’d never experienced such smells before.

  There was a man singing with a guitar in his hands off to the side, and Bookie was pounding a drum. He missed a beat to lift up his hand and give me a wave from across the distance. I did the same as I took a step forward.

  Slowly, an awareness seemed to spread through the crowd. The looks started. They already knew I was a Plaguer and I wouldn’t pretend I was anything else. It was one thing to do it when we were on the run, but I was supposedly here to help Dax. They didn’t like what I was, then that was their problem.

  I walked around the area, chin frozen in an up position. Fudge was directing some men over by the food and I made my way over. Even if every single one of them resented my presence there, I didn’t care. I’d be eating good tonight.

  Fudge was making up a plate and then handed it to me as I approached. “You need to get some skin on those bones,” she said.

  I took it with a smile and then carried it over to a dark corner on the back porch where no one else was sitting to get a good view of everyone laughing and dancing.

  I looked down at the plate, knowing I’d been pressing my luck lately. What if the people at the compound were right about the Bloody Death coming back if I kept eating? The source of the information wasn’t great. Could I really believe anything the same people who tortured me said? Dax had made it sound like they’d wanted to keep me weak. But who could I really believe? People who had kept me alive for years or some guy I’d just met with shady motivations he wasn’t disclosing?

  There were heaps of meats piled up beside this white fluffy stuff I knew was mashed potatoes and a pile of corn. There was some sort of very yellow bread that I’d never seen the likes of, and it had a glossy surface in spite of its rougher sides.

  “It’s not poison,” Dax said, walking up to me. “Are you going to eat it or just stare at it?”

  One more good meal wouldn’t be likely to kill me, would it? It would really suck to have finally made it out of the compound and then die less than a week later. But I was out and I wanted to live. I didn’t get this far to get stuck still living by compound rules. What if Dax was right? They’d been trying to make me weak?

  I took a spoonful of potatoes as Dax watched. He knew there was something I wasn’t saying, his expression almost screaming to either eat up or fess up. If I told him about how food might make the Bloody Death come back, he might take my plate, and I wasn't risking it. I loaded down a fork with meat, potatoes and corn all in one pass.

  The first bite hit my tongue in an explosion of joy. Fudge’s food might be worth death. I actually moaned over how good it was. I started shoveling bites into my mouth before I’d swallowed the last.

  He sat on the porch railing while I attacked the food on my plate. “We’re going to start soon. Going out and canvassing areas.”

  I nodded, my mouth too full to speak.

  “I’ll leave you to your…” He waved a hand to encompass my feeding fest.

  I nodded, realizing a little belatedly that the rate at which I was shoving food in my mouth might not be very flattering.

  I still had a few bites left on my plate that I was gearing up the strength to eat when Tank walked over and sat a jar down on the arm of my bench.

  “What’s this?” I asked, picking up the jar and sniffing it. This didn't smell anywhere near as good as the food.

  I must have made a face, because Tank laughed before he said, “Booze to wash the food down.”

  “Booze?”

  “Yes. Alcohol. Whiskey, to be precise.”

  Ah, alcohol. I’d always wanted to try some of that. It would probably be okay. I mean, the food hadn’t killed me…yet, and I was all about livi
ng on the edge these days. I took a large gulp and then my eyes watered with the burning feeling and my insides felt like they were being cooked. I coughed, wondering why people liked this stuff. The taste was rough but then I noticed the warmth settling in my stomach, which was delicious.

  “I wouldn’t drink it quite so quick, okay?”

  “Yeah, sure, got it. Thanks.” I held up the glass and took another tentative sip as he left.

  I pulled my legs up underneath me, sipping my whiskey as someone sang a song I’d never heard and people danced in between the fires that lit the area. This was heaven. I’d figure out a way to bust my friends out of the compound and we would build a life just like this. We’d all have this soon.

  A lovely feeling was starting to build in me and I looked down at the glass that was close to empty. I liked this booze stuff. I tipped the glass back and emptied it. Where were they hiding this wonderful stuff? I was going to drink this every day for the rest of my life.

  I made my way to the table by the food that had jugs set out that looked like the same stuff and refilled my glass, right up to the brim.

  By time I’d finished that glass, I was moving not so steadily on my feet to the heart of the crowd dancing. They all made room for me as I mimicked the steps I’d watched them make, minus a stumble or two here and there, but I thought I was doing pretty well.

  I spun around and the crowd got wider. “Dance with me,” I said to the people, but couple by couple, they were all stopping. “Why aren’t you all dancing?” I asked before my brain kicked into gear, a little slower than normal. They didn’t want to dance with me? My feet started slowing until I was standing alone.

  Then an arm wrapped around my waist and swung me around. A hand took mine and I realized it was Dax and we were moving around the area.

  “Dance,” Dax said loudly.

  “I’m trying to,” I said.

  “Dance,” he repeated even louder.

  “I’m trying!” I shouted, doing the best I could, but he was moving a lot quicker than my feet wanted to go.

  I looked around and others had gone back to dancing as well. Maybe they’d just taken a break? I had a feeling I was missing something, but my brain was too fuzzy to worry about it and too damn happy. I really liked whiskey.

  We twirled around the area, my hand on his shoulder, and I couldn’t help but notice how handsome Dax looked and how nice he smelled.

  His face looked a little softer than normal when he looked down at mine and I blurted out, “You’re pretty. Not in like a girly way but a guy way.”

  He smiled but looked away. “And you’re a lot tougher than I thought you’d be.”

  I frowned. I’d wanted him to tell me I was pretty, too.

  The song ended too soon and instead of steering me to the porch and leaving me there, or better yet, dancing some more, he was guiding me inside.

  “Where we going? I want to dance!” I did a wide flourish of my arm and banged my knuckles against the door we were passing.

  “I think some sleep might be a better idea for now.”

  “But I want to dance and drink and live.”

  “I think that’s enough living for now.”

  His arm around my waist kept me moving up the stairs and down the hall to my room. I fell upon the bed, curled onto my side, boots and all, and realized that this sleep idea wasn’t such a bad call.

  The door closed as he left the room and a breeze came in through the open window. That was another new thing. The windows opened here.

  I kicked off my boots without getting up and crawled under the covers with all my clothes still on. As I lay there on my back, I could hear the party dying down. They didn’t like me. I’d expected that, even if I’d secretly hoped for a different outcome. I’d never been popular, not even at the Giant.

  I wasn’t good with people and I knew that but it didn’t matter. They were using me and I was using them. Like was an unnecessary emotion. It certainly wasn’t going to keep me awake at night.

  It was nice here but a month was plenty enough time. I’d get strong. I’d figure out a way to get my friends out of the compound and then I’d build a house of my own.

  * * *

  I woke a couple of hours later to the most intense thirst and found a glass of water sitting at my bedside. Had to love Fudge. At least I thought it was Fudge. I couldn’t imagine Dax bringing me water.

  While I was chugging it down, I thought I heard Dax’s voice below the window. I placed the glass on the nightstand quietly as I crawled out of bed. The fuzziness was still with me but I was at least mobile. I knew I was eavesdropping, but a girl had to do whatever she had to do in times of survival.

  “Do you think they’ll come here?” Fudge asked. “You said they already followed you across the Great Bay. That’s unheard of.”

  “You remember the last time one of the governments tried to come into the Wilds,” Dax said, like it was something she couldn’t have forgotten. “They won’t come in large forces. They lost too many people but they’re going to come. I’ll deal with it when they do.”

  “Will it even work?” Fudge asked.

  “I don’t know. But I’ve run out of leads.”

  “Do you think she knows she’s one of the last ones left?”

  “I think she has an idea. It’s good she’s tough. She’s going to need to be.” I heard some movement and scraping of chairs. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Night.”

  Chapter 14

  When I woke the next morning, my head felt like it was trying to revolt from my body and holding violent protests to accomplish its goal. Oh no, maybe eating too much did bring back the Bloody Death, because I felt like I’d died and been reheated. I better not do that again. It had tasted so damn good, though.

  What if there was no redo? What if I was contagious already? What if I was already spreading it to everyone? I had to get out of here.

  I didn’t bother changing clothes. I grabbed the discarded boots from last night and only stopped long enough to pause at the door, listening. It sounded relatively quiet, so a lot of people were probably sleeping in.

  I tiptoed down the hall, ran down the stairs and was out the front door before the people at the buffet noticed me. It was a good thing I wasn’t hungry, because I couldn’t risk close contact with the breakfast crowd, even lighter as it was today. The sun seemed brighter than normal as I made it to the front lawn.

  “Where are you going?”

  Shit. Of all the people of course it would be Dax, and damn he sounded louder than normal. My head was already about to split open from the Plague as it was. I’d hoped to slip out and not have to tell a soul that I was sick.

  I turned to find him leaning on the corner porch post, suspicion in his eyes. I’d learned one thing about Dax. You either read nothing on his face or what he felt like showing you. This look was a warning.

  “Nowhere. Was just taking in the morning air.”

  He pushed off the post and walked a few steps in my direction. “You wouldn’t be thinking of running out on our bargain?”

  “No, of course not.”

  He nodded but his face still looked suspicious.

  “How are you feeling today?”

  Not only was my head pounding but I felt like my heart was also looking to exit my body. If I told him what I feared, that maybe I was getting sick, he might kill me. It was amazing that someone from the Wilds would be so open-minded toward a Plaguer in the first place. How far would he go? If I was sick, would he let me walk or kill me here where I stood like generations of his people before him?

  “I’m feeling great.”

  “Really? I’m surprised after all that whiskey you drank.”

  “What do you mean?” It was the booze that made me sick? Not the food? Please say it was so.

  “As much as you drank, men twice your size would still be laid out or vomiting their guts up.”

  I wasn’t sick and I could still eat? I wasn’t dying? I
wanted to jump into the air, or would once my stomach settled down some and the world got steadier.

  I still felt close to death but I couldn’t let that stop me. The people at the compound had stolen enough years of good food from me.

  “Breakfast buffet still out?” I said, moving closer to the house and peeking through the door, knowing I’d gotten up later than normal.

  “Yeah,” he said, and for the first time ever, it looked like he was actually really going to laugh. He didn’t, but he got really close.

  I left him on the porch while I struggled toward the buffet line. Nothing smelled the same today, but I was eating whether my body wanted it or not.

  With a heaping plate of food, I made my way out to the back porch to eat in peace. Then Lucy showed with a heaping plate of food of her own and made a loud disgruntled noise when she saw me, making it clear this was her spot and she was annoyed. I felt like saying this wasn’t my first morning in this spot either but didn’t bother. I had a job enough getting all this food down. I couldn’t add talking to the chores.

  She sat on the other bench and then stared at me while I tried to pretend she wasn't there.

  “I’ll share my breakfast spot but I will not be chitchatting with a Plaguer every morning,” she finally spat out.

  “Uh, yeah, sure,” I said, wondering why she thought I would have any desire to have chitchat, as she called it, with her. I hated small talk. I wasn’t good at it, and if I was going to make an attempt, it would not be wasted on her.

  I looked out at the land, imagining I was alone, as I took in the beauty and told myself that I would not throw up.

  “You stupid girls all want to talk about your hair or what dress you want to make and what stupid colors to dye the fabric. And if it’s not that stupid shit, it’s who’s a good provider and who just wants a quick lay.”