Wall of Fire: A Young Adult Dystopian Novel

by Melanie Tays

  I watch as he returns inside, then I climb back onto my perch and spy through the window. It takes a few minutes for him to get an opportunity, but Liam makes good on his promise with a quick, almost imperceptible injection to Whyle’s thigh.

  I can’t see any discernible change in his appearance. He doesn’t wake or even stir. The only indication that something is changing is in the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest as his breathing slows to a normal rate, giving me hope that the rest of his symptoms will soon subside as well.

  I’ve done all I can here. I indulge in one last glance at my parents; their faces are pained, as though they’ve taken about all they can from life. If all goes well, I’ll see them before Whyle’s illness can resurface or anyone else can be taken by it, and I’ll make them all safe for good.

  I hop down from the crate just as an Enforcer rounds the far corner to the alley.

  “Hey, what are you doing there?” he bellows.

  I have two choices—talk or run. Anything I say—especially my name—is going to end in disaster, so I bolt.

  I can hear the thud, thud, thud of his footsteps behind me, and I know that he’s pursuing, but not really keeping up. I enter the school and slam the door behind me.

  In panic, my mind goes fuzzy. Which board was it?

  I claw at the eighth board from the wall—no. Ninth—won’t budge. Tenth—and it comes away easily. I slide into the tunnel and pull the board over the hole just as the creak of the opening door echoes through the building.

  “I know you’re in here!” the Enforcer calls out.

  Dim lines of light seep through the edges of the floor board above me, telling me that it’s not securely in place. But there’s no way for me to tighten it from this side.

  His footsteps come closer, and I don’t dare move for fear of making noise and drawing his attention.

  He pauses just a few steps away, and I wonder if he’s spotted the uneven floorboard and is about to investigate, to pull it away and discover my treachery. But then he goes on walking again, and the slats of light disappear as his heavy boot seals the board into place. He stomps around for a few more minutes, then seems to give up and leaves the building. I wonder if he’s abandoned the hunt or whether he’ll be searching for me till curfew. I kind of hope the latter. It would serve him right.

  I purse my lips tight together to keep from laughing out loud. As it turns out, I couldn’t have asked for a better assistant in my escape. With the tunnel sealed and all traces of my visit to the Smoke gone, I begin the return trip. I have to get back to Eason as quickly as possible. We have plans to make. Together, we’re going to free The City from the murderous clutches of the Council.

  Chapter 22

  Gasping for air, I emerge into the basement of the Burning Center. It’s not like there wasn’t air in the tunnel, so I’m not sure why it feels like my lungs are full of nails. The wall boards and my clean clothes are just as I left them.

  First, I secure the wall panels back in place. Then I strip down and change back into my Flame clothes. I use the old shirt to wipe off as much of the dirt from my face as I can, then I toss the old clothes and my makeshift bag into the incinerator, destroying all evidence of my escapade.

  A few people meander through the halls as I race back to Eason, and I figure they’re probably getting used to the strange Smoke girl who’s frequently running through the halls, so I just keep going. Slowing down will only give them the opportunity to notice that my face and hands are filthy, and my wrist is bare—two very big problems.

  Breathless, I bang on Eason’s door, but when I do, it swings open on its own as though it had been left slightly ajar.

  “Eason, it’s me,” I call as I enter, just loud enough for him to hear.

  But the room is empty.

  Panicked, I run to the bed where I last saw my intercuff, but it’s not there. I don’t know where Eason has gone, but I know he wouldn’t have left if he had a choice. He left the door open for me, and the intercuff must be somewhere that he thought would be safe.

  I go to the closet and pull out the wooden box where he hides his secrets. When I flip open the lid, I am relieved to find that my intercuff is there waiting for me. It takes a minute of fumbling, but I figure out how to slide open the hidden compartment and get the key.

  Wincing, I know I’ve succeeded in reactivating my band when the sharp, punishing shock bites hard at my wrist. Unfortunately, I have no way of knowing how long the intercuff has been stowed in the box. How long has it been since Eason activated it, and will anyone be looking for me because of it?

  I manage to return to my room unseen, but any relief I feel is quickly swept away. I’m not in my room thirty seconds when pounding starts at the door, and Keya is calling to me.

  I can’t let her see me like this, so I strip down as fast as I can and leap into the shower. The jets of water assault me with icy stabs, but I barely notice.

  Now Keya is calling me from inside my room, apparently having let herself in. “Emery, is that you in the shower?”

  I have no idea who else she thinks it could be, but I call back anyway. “Yes. Is that you, Keya? Sorry, I’ve been in here a while and I didn’t hear you knock. I’m just so anxious about the Refinement, and the hot water helps to calm my nerves,” I say as coarse shivers seize me.

  “Of course you’re nervous, my dear,” she cries in tragic sympathy. “What girl from the Smoke wouldn’t be? But I’ll say that you’ve got a better chance than anyone else I’ve ever seen. Well, except… But never mind that.”

  I wonder if she was about to say Eason—at least, his first performance in the Burning.

  “You’ve missed a lot,” she informs me. “Dinner is completely over. Now I’m supposed to take you over to the Justice Building to speak with the Chief Enforcer. Hurry and get ready.”

  I turn off the water, which has thankfully warmed nicely, and towel off. While I’m dressing, Keya taps her foot impatiently. “As though I have nothing better to do than run errands and fetch people on the night before the Refinement,” she mutters under her breath.

  “I’m ready,” I announce.

  Even though she’s in a hurry, Keya isn’t about to lead me around with wet hair, and she shows me how to use a device that dries it in minutes. Then I follow her out of the room, and only then do I have a chance to realize that I have no idea what I’m going to tell Terrance, and my stomach starts turning in knots. I wish I could talk to Eason first. He would know how to handle this.

  When we enter the Justice Building, Keya hands me off to the nearest Enforcer—a burly man who must be solidly twice my weight—and strides away in a rush. I have to admit, it’s impressive how she manages to achieve grace and speed in those impractical shoes.

  “Miss Kennish,” Terrance’s voice booms behind me, bringing my attention back to the unpleasant matter at hand.

  I swallow hard and turn to face him. My palms are slick with sweat. I remind myself that I have nothing to be worried about. The worst they can do is send me to the Ash. No—the worst they can do now is to keep me. I cover my mouth to stifle the uncontrolled laugh that erupts. For once in my life, I have the upper hand.

  “I trust that you have some good news for me. A smart girl like you wouldn’t dare tell me otherwise,” he says, his face stone. He walks toward the room where our initial conversation took place.

  Tentatively, I follow. I’m really not looking forward to being alone with him, even if there’s nothing he can do to me that isn’t exactly what I want anyway. But there’s really no choice with the hulking Enforcer right behind me. As directed, I take the same seat I occupied the last time I was here, and can hardly believe it was a mere four days ago. It feels like the entire planet has shifted on its axis since then, and nothing will ever be the same again. Though I can’t say for sure about the state of the planet, the world for me will never be the same no matter how this goes.

  Terrance clears the room with a single wave of his finger to dismiss
the other Enforcer, and we are alone.

  “So, I’ve noticed that you’ve spent a lot of time with Eason. The two of you appear to get along quite nicely. I sincerely hope, for your sake, that you’ve discovered what it is that brought him back to the Burning.”

  “If I had, wouldn’t you already know it?” I ask. “Don’t you and the Council keep tabs on everyone through the intercuffs?”

  He smiles and nods as though conceding a point to an adversary. “We do hear some things, but the system is not as precise and foolproof as we would like. There’s plenty of interference, and much could be said and done without our knowledge. I assume Eason has figured this out by now.”

  I can’t imagine what Terrance would do if he learned exactly what Eason has figured out regarding the intercuffs, and why his, in particular, seems to experience so much ‘interference.’

  “If he wanted to tell you something in private, I believe he could easily have found the opportunity, and I think he did do just that. So tell me, Emery, what is our dear friend Eason up to?” he asks pleasantly, as though we’re old friends having a little chat.

  I do a quick assessment of the situation and realize that I have four options at this point, but only one that ensures the outcome I want.

  My first option is to tell the truth—divulge everything I know about Eason’s plans to leave The City and bring down the barrier field. Until just a few hours ago, I had planned to do exactly that for what I believed to be the safety of The City and everyone living here. But given what I know now about the Council using the food to attack us, the Council is a far scarier and more certain threat than whatever may lie beyond the barrier, and this is the worst option of all.

  I could weave a tale of some innocuous reason why Eason has returned to the Burning. I could say that he couldn’t handle the pressures of being a Burn Master and is hoping to get a simpler assignment. That would make sense of his purposefully poor performance. Maybe Terrance would buy it. I could still be allowed to pass the Burning without betraying Eason. But what if the Council took that into consideration and actually gave him another assignment rather than expelling him to the Ash, where he can carry out his plan? Bringing down the barrier is the only way to truly save Whyle, and so many others.

  My next option is to make him believe I’ve failed. That I don’t know what Eason is planning. That I never fully gained his trust. But he might accept that I gave it my best effort, forgive my failure, and allow me to pass despite my failure. I can’t risk that, either. I want out. I will do anything to protect my family. And I desperately want to be with Eason, wherever he goes. I do trust him, maybe more than anyone else I know.

  So I must give Terrance and the Council absolutely no choice but to send me to the Ash—and Eason, too.

  “Why would I help you?” I demand. “You aren’t really trying to help me at all. How do I know you’ll even keep your end of our deal?”

  His pleasant demeanor dissolves in an instant. “We’ve been through this, Miss Kennish. You know exactly what’s at stake and exactly what’s in it for you. As far as any assurances go, I’m the best chance you’ve got at this point, so you’re just going to have to trust me.”

  I give a derisive laugh that comes out more like a strangled snort, but makes my point. “I don’t buy it. Eason’s right about you all.”

  This piques his interest. “And what is he right about, precisely?”

  I roll my eyes and look away. That’s one step too far, I guess, because my intercuff turns yellow. I work to appear impassive. I was focused on the Ash and completely forgot about this tactic and what they’ll do to me here and now if I don’t fall in line.

  “Come now, you don’t want to choose the wrong side here,” Terrance warns.

  I continue refusing to meet his eyes. I cross my arms in defiance and remain silent.

  Terrance looks like he might snap something in half, and that he might like that something to be my neck, but he doesn’t move.

  Several seconds pass before orange light replaces yellow, and a searing pain assaults me. Unlike the pain from the intercuff, which stayed localized in my wrist, this pain seems to tap into my entire nervous system and send the same shock wave across my entire body all at once. It lasts only a moment, but it’s not something you can easily forget.

  I can understand now why Petra was so bothered by it and so diligent in the following days about avoiding its recurrence. I can understand now why everyone in the Flame seems to respond so readily to the mere warning of this sensation’s approach that the yellow glow signifies.

  “Just tell me what Eason hopes to achieve and you can walk out of here right now,” Terrance coaxes. “I won’t let it hurt you anymore, and you can still have a place in the Flame.”

  “I hate this place,” I proclaim. “If I can’t go home to my family, I’d rather go to the Ash.”

  Suddenly, my vision goes black. Though I can’t see it, I know that the light of my intercuff has shifted to a menacing red. Every muscle in my body contracts violently. I try to fight for air, but I can’t manage a single breath. And if I can’t breathe, then how can I scream? And if I can’t scream, how can I possibly endure this agony?

  The instant the viselike pain releases me from its clutches, my body goes limp and I topple from my chair. My head knocks hard against the tile floor and blood pours from my nose, but I don’t even try to move.

  The vibration of each step that Terrance takes toward me pounds in my head. He shoves me with the toe of his boot, and I roll onto my back. Then he leans down over my cowering form, close enough that I can smell something bitter on his breath when he says, “Don’t be a fool. I know he’s told you something important. This is your very last chance to talk.” Despite his proximity, his voice sounds distant and dissonant as my head spins. “There’s nothing to gain by this.”

  Whyle’s face flashes in my head, and I cannot be confused by his pleas and lies. I will do this for Whyle—and for every other person who has survived the worst of the world just to become a pawn to the Council and be discarded just as easily.

  Slowly my senses return, but my resolve is set.

  “I have…nothing to say,” I manage with difficulty, trying to make my voice strong. But it comes out hoarse and strangled, as though I have been shouting for hours.

  “This is very stupid of you. You can’t possibly imagine what’s at stake here. Nothing else was more important than getting that information. Nothing. You failed me; you failed the Council; you failed The City.” He bends down on one knee so that his face is just inches from mine, and I can feel the hot humidity of his breath on my skin. “You failed,” he repeats in a drawn-out whisper.

  Then he straightens and sighs. “It really is a pity. You actually did exceptionally well on every trial. You even passed the Bronze Trial on your own. I didn’t change your score. I merely hoped to offer you more incentive and perspective, which clearly failed. You passed every trial, and even dragged Eason with you through the final one. A true altruist—pure as they come. If it weren’t for your lack of judgment and cooperation on this, you could be confident of receiving an assignment tomorrow. I hope that haunts you as you suffer in the Ash.”

  And then the world morphs into blackness, and searing red heat, and blistering cold, and biting, and burning, and slicing, and crushing all at once.

  A pain I can’t escape even in unconsciousness.

  ***

  Something soft and warm brushes against my cheek. The pain has finally left me. I open my eyes and am rewarded with the sight of Eason’s face. We are in my room, and he sits on the bed next to me, stroking my face and waiting for me to return to him.

  “There you are,” he says with a smile, but he’s cautious, probably not sure what to think of my refusal to tell Terrance what he wanted.

  “Eason, where were you? When I got back you were gone.”

  “I’m sorry,” he says. “A little more than an hour passed, and then an Enforcer showed up at my door. I was a
fraid they were onto our trick, but they were just there to collect me for Terrance. He wanted his own chance to interrogate me. Fortunately, I was wearing my own intercuff when they showed up. The whole time, I was storing the deactivated one in the box in case anything happened. Turns out I was right to be cautious.”

  “Terrance talked to you, too?” I say weakly, imagining Eason going through what I’ve just been through.

  He nods, and the hollow look in his eyes tells me all I need to know. Terrance was no easier on Eason than he was on me. Experiencing that kind of pain leaves marks that may not be visible on the outside, but are easy to spot if you’ve ever endured it yourself.

  “How long was I out?” I ask, the hoarseness in my voice not fully gone yet.

  “I’m not sure. I think about an hour,” he says. “You must have fallen or something, because the doctor fixed your broken nose. The fatigue will take longer to wear off.”

  I wonder how I got back to my room, and how Eason got in, but I don’t ask. I’m sure that if he can remove intercuffs, he probably knows a thing or two about door locks, too. Besides, there are more pressing things to discuss.

  With difficulty, I pull myself up to a seated position. Before I say anything that might be compromising, I check our wrists; both of our intercuffs are in place. The skin around Eason’s is raw and red, which must be a consequence of continually switching between our bands to protect me while I was gone.

  I take his arm and raise it to my lips, soothing the angry skin with a kiss.

  I can tell he’s not sure what to make of that, but he’ll know soon enough.

  I bring that arm around my neck, and draw myself closer to him. And then I kiss him, and it’s only then, after all that this evening has put me through, that I can finally breathe.

  He pulls away, searching my face for understanding.

  I keep my declaration purposely simple and vague so that no spying ears can use my words to stop us. “You’re right,” I say. “I know it now. I’m with you.”