by Melanie Tays
Even though my wound is closed, it’s still not smart to aggravate it more than necessary, so I sit and wait while Vander gathers as much dry moss and leaves as he can and piles them near the fire to make sleeping mats, and then adds more sticks to the fire. We settle down for the night, and Vander drifts off almost immediately.
My mind, on the other hand, is too harried to be subdued by sleep. We’ve already been in the Ash five days. Every day that passes diminishes the chances we’ll rescue The City in time. I remind myself that it’s not just Whyle, Eason, and Van who we have to do this for. It’s every person who carries the gene that the food attacks—the gene Whyle carries. How many people have died in just the six days since I talked to Liam outside the Medical Center in the Smoke?
The only thought that comforts me enough to carry me into dreams is the many ways I imagine destroying Traeger Sterling—exposing his lies, turning The City against him, and freeing everyone from his madness once and for all.
***
When I awake in the morning, Vander is already up and getting the fire going again. It must have burned out during the night. I sit up, and my eyes water as a sharp stab of pain shoots down my leg. Only the smallest yelp escapes my lips, but it’s enough to draw Vander’s attention.
“Are you okay? You look awful.”
I feel awful, so I don’t take offense at his blunt observation. My hair is damp and plastered to my forehead, as though I was sweating most of the night, but I shiver now. I need to check the wound. It reminds me of its presence with every move I make. But I’m afraid of what I’ll find when I uncover it, so I procrastinate the task.
Instead, I go to the nearest puddle of semi-clean water and get a good drink. I splash cool water on my face and neck, which only makes me shiver more. I should try to hunt down another couple of rats, but I’m shaking too badly to have any hope of sneaking up on them quietly.
Vander must notice the way I’m struggling because he comes to my side and helps me sit by the fire. “Emery, you’re burning up.”
That’s not a good sign. If my skin is hot but I feel cold, then infection must be setting into the wound. Cauterizing the wound last night was apparently not enough. I need help soon—I can feel it—but that’s not what I tell Vander.
“I’m fine. Just give me a minute to rest, and then I’ll get our breakfast.”
He eyes me doubtfully, but rather than arguing, he goes to the horse. He unties its reins from the tree and leads it to water. All the puddles are drying up. By this evening, I doubt there will be any water left, so it’s all the more reason to leave this place now.
As soon as I can stand without shaking, I go hunting. It takes every ounce of strength I have, but I come up with two fat rats before long. I toss their creepy dead bodies on the ground next to the fire and collapse to the ground, resting my head against a rock.
When Vander returns with the horse, I’m tempted to get up and go secure the reins to a tree myself, but I just don’t have the strength. I’ll just have to trust Vander to figure out a decent knot on his own this time. I worry that the horse needs to eat, but then I see it nibbling some grass, and I relax. At least one of us knows how to survive out here.
Seeing that I’m pretty much useless for the time being, Vander finds the same sharp rock I used last night and starts trying to skin the rats himself. I have to admit I’m impressed. He does a pretty decent job—only gagging once—and soon both rats are roasting over the fire.
When they are well cooked, we eat our fill. That leaves a couple legs for later. Vander wraps them up in some leaves and stows them in a pocket. We both drink again. Then Vander pours dirt on the fire to extinguish it, and we’re ready to get moving.
Finally, I work up the nerve to check my wound. It’s not bleeding or oozing anything, which would give me comfort, except for the bulging blisters that have formed around the edges. That could just mean that we left the branding heat of the stone there too long. But red streaks are also spreading out from the laceration, coloring up and down my leg.
I splash the site with cool water and cover it with a nice layer of moss. It probably won’t help anything, but it’s the best I can do for now. Once we have some allies on the farm, they can get some supplies to actually clean it and maybe even some medicine to heal it—if such things exist out here in the Ash. Otherwise, Vander’s father—the doctor—will take care of it once we’re back inside The City. And if we never get back into The City, then what does it matter, anyway?
There’s no way I’m walking very far, so Vander helps me get situated on the horse, and then climbs up behind me where he can keep an arm around me and make sure I don’t fall off. We go slowly so the ride is as smooth as possible. Still, every second feels like a new kind of torture.
“I have a theory about what went wrong with the transmission, and why the barrier didn’t fully deactivate,” I say. I’m not usually one to need to fill silence with chatter, but I need to distract myself from the pain, so I talk.
“What’s your theory?”
“Eason and Bretton both said that the transmission has to come from both sides of the barrier field. But we aren’t on the outside. We’re halfway in between. So maybe from here, it disrupted the field somehow, but not enough to actually deactivate it.”
Vander opens his mouth to say something, but it’s cut off by the whirring sound of the airplane returning. “Maybe it’s a good thing we didn’t deactivate the Safe Dome after all,” he says as the sound continues to grow.
I’d hoped whoever was attacking us had given up after their efforts failed the other day, but apparently, they haven’t. In fact, when we catch glimpses of the sky through the forest canopy, it’s not one, but three airplanes on approach.
“What do they want?” I say, not expecting an answer.
The sky erupts into a cacophony of sound, fire, and color as weapons of different varieties are dropped on the barrier field again and again.
“The people at the farm must have noticed that,” Vander yells over the roar of explosions.
“And in The City,” I point out.
“I wonder if the other day was the first time they’ve ever done this, or if we just didn’t know it before. Maybe that’s why Traeger decided to start projecting the sky in The City,” Vander says.
“Maybe,” I say. “I wonder what’s happening in The City.”
“In the Flame, probably not much,” Vander surmises. “Anyone who steps out of line will have their intercuff to quickly remind them what they’re supposed to be doing.”
I know he’s right. “So any rebellion will have to come from the Smoke,” I say. “But even they’ll have Enforcers to deal with. And we aren’t really the type to organize or resist. The whole system has been engineered to keep people from forming close bonds with anyone beyond their own families.”
“Well, there’s nothing we can do about that now. We need to focus on deciding who should receive the last two doses of the antidote,” Vander says.
“Ty,” I say, suddenly certain that he’s the most important ally we could have right now.
“Why Ty?” he asks, confused by my confidence.
We have to speak in raised voices to be heard over the bevy of detonations overhead.
“He was part of the Resistance. He must know things about The City that could help us. If anyone is willing to help us and fight against Traeger, it would be the Resistance, and Ty can help us contact them.”
“That’s right. I remember you two talking about that. Okay, that sounds like a good idea,” he agrees. “So who else?”
Vander knows a lot more people here than I do since most of them came from the Flame where he grew up. He starts listing possible candidates who would be properly motivated to see the Safe Dome dissolved. A woman named Rena who has a problem with her joints and doesn’t appear to be getting proper treatment on the farm. Vander’s friend, Dante, who he recalls used to daydream about the days when we could return to the outside world.
/> “He used to talk all the time about building a boat so he could sail away and see the world. He could have done it, too. He was the top of our class—so smart. But he failed the maze trial,” Vander explains. “Now he’s reduced to watching cats chase strings for excitement.”
The aerial assault finally ends, and the planes disappear into the distance.
He suggests a couple other people who he knows left family behind and would be anxious to be reunited.
“I know someone,” I admit. I tell him about Shawny—the pregnant woman I first saw in the Justice Building—and how she left two children behind to protect her unborn baby.
“I’ve seen her. She’s going to have that baby any day now. That won’t be any help to us,” Vander complains. But I can tell he has sympathy for anyone who would protect a third child from being eliminated.
I haven’t asked him whether he or his brother were born first—which of them the law would have accepted, and which would have been taken. It seems wrong to ask, and he’s never mentioned the distinction. To him, they were in this together from the beginning.
“I agree that we need Ty,” Vander says. “But I still think Dante would be more helpful than a pregnant woman.”
I open my mouth to argue, but he holds up a hand to stop me and goes on speaking.
“I’ll get whichever one I find first and have a safe opportunity to grab.”
***
It’s late in the afternoon when we reach the edge of the grassy field. We pause at the edge of the forest. The tall poles topped with dart-throwing devices loom like sentinels before us.
“Do you think we can go around?” I ask.
“We’ll have to try,” Vander replies.
We keep near the edge of the tree line but never touch the grass. It seems to go on and on. Bretton is nowhere to be seen, and I can only hope that the members of the mob from the farm were capable of mercy and took him back with them. He’s no threat to anyone now in his stupefied state. If we want to make his sacrifice worthwhile, we have to accomplish the mission he set in motion eighteen years ago when he sent his wife and baby to the Smoke.
When we finally reach the edge of the grassland, the sun is low in the sky, and the colors are beautiful. We can see the farm in the distance. Between us lies an open expanse of dirt and brush. There’s no cover, but there are also no apparent dangers. It looks like things have returned to business as usual, and as long as they don’t become aware of our presence here, we should be safe.
We eat the last of the rat legs and then wait. The best time to reach people without being seen will be during the nightly fire when it’s dark and people wander freely. I can still barely walk, so Vander agrees it’s best if he goes in alone to get them. I’ll stay here with the horse.
As soon as the sky is black and the fire raging in the distance, Vander takes off for the farm. The wait is agonizing. There’s nothing to distract me from my pain and worries, so I try counting the stars. It helps a little, but I keep losing track, and pretty soon I give up.
Finally, I hear footsteps approaching, and it sounds like more than one set. I squint into the distance, heart racing despite the fact that this is what I’ve been waiting for. But what if something went wrong?
Soon, I see two figures walking toward me—the swagger can only be Vander, and the waddle can only be Shawny’s pregnant form. I relax and let myself believe that this just might work out after all.
“Emery,” Vander whispers when he doesn’t see me sitting in the blackness.
“I’m here,” I say, drawing them to me.
I attempt to meet them, but when I stand, I find that my leg won’t bear weight. As I stumble back to the ground, Vander’s brows knit together. I can tell he doesn’t believe me when I assure him that I am fine—probably because I don’t actually believe it myself. But once we get back in The City, Vander’s father can take care of me. We just have to get there.
“Hi, I’m Emery. Your name is Shawny, right?” I ask the woman.
She nods, clearly disoriented.
“What has Vander told you?” I ask.
“Wasn’t time for much,” Vander interjects.
“Just that he thinks there’s a way to get back to my children in The City,” she says, her voice breaking on the word ‘children.’
“You can fill her in while I go back,” Vander says, and he takes off.
Shawny finds a large, flat rock and slowly lowers herself to sit, steadying herself with an arm reached awkwardly behind her. She rubs her round belly and breathes deeply. Then she watches me with concern as I settle myself back into a semi-comfortable position, wincing with every movement. I wonder which of us is having the more difficult time getting around right now. Sadly, I think it’s probably me.
“What happened to you?” she asks.
“We were being chased, and someone threw a knife that stuck in my thigh.”
“Who was chasing you?” she asks, surprised.
“Everyone from the farm, as far as we could tell. Hundreds of people. Don’t you remember? It was just the day before yesterday.”
She frowns and appears to be straining to remember. Being as pregnant as she is, she might have been left behind. Still, there’s no way so many people could have left en masse without her noticing.
Finally, she groans and admits, “I can’t remember anything from that day. It’s so strange. In fact, everything since I got here is fuzzy, like I was looking at it through murky water. But that day is just…nothing.”
“It’s the Mind Mist that comes every night—that sweet smell in the air. It keeps everyone here docile and obedient to Ollie, Roe, and the City. The antidote Vander gave you makes it so that it won’t affect you anymore,” I explain. There’s a lot more she needs to know, but I have pressing questions of my own. “What’s happening in The City?”
“How would I know?” she replies.
I realize I’m jumping around and getting ahead of myself. Under the influence of the Mind Mist, Shawny probably hasn’t even noticed that she can see into The City now, let alone spent any time observing what’s happening. I start at the beginning—telling her about Eason and Bretton, Traeger, and the poisoned meal rations. I tell her about the transmitter that did something to the barrier field but didn’t deactivate it altogether. And I tell her what Vander and I accidentally discovered about the Ash—that it’s really just another layer of The City, and just as trapped.
She listens to it all with an unreadable expression. I’m not sure if she believes anything I’m saying. And I have to admit, if I didn’t know it all to be true from personal experience, I’d think it was all ludicrous. I just have to hope she and Ty are not as naturally skeptical as me.
“So there really is hope that I’ll see my family again?” she asks when I’ve finished talking. Moonlight glistens off the tears rolling down her cheeks, and I know I was right about trusting her. She’ll do anything to be reunited with her family.
“We hope so,” I say. “But we still have to find a way to get back into The City. Ty was a part of the Resistance. We think he might know something that will help us.”
She nods. “We have to do whatever it takes. My kids need me.”
While we wait, I ask her to tell me about them. She has a six-year-old boy, Finn, and a four-year-old girl, Wren. I can hear in her voice the heartbreak of every moment that she’s been separated from them. It’s the kind of pain the Mind Mist shoves down, but never truly quenches—the kind of sorrow that floods back when your mind returns.
I hope we aren’t making a mistake in giving these people the antidote. I have to admit that it was nice—refreshing even, in a way—to have my mind washed clean of all negativity. It was like I was in a cocoon, insulated from every thought and fear that had ever troubled me. And if all “being awake” means is living with the knowledge that Whyle and so many others are dying on the other side of an invisible barrier and there’s nothing I can do about it, wouldn’t I rather live my life in blissful
oblivion?
But even as I think it, I know the answer is no. I’d rather suffer for something real than merely exist in a fake bubble. Besides, I’ve never been able to accept defeat, even when it seems the only logical option. Sometimes the act of struggling and fighting is the only thing that lets you know you’re really alive—that your life is really your own. That’s worth more than all the mindless serenity a lifetime can offer.
I can see it in Shawny’s face—the awareness of her pain is a small price to pay for even the smallest hope of reaching them again. Even the pain is a connection to them, and she clings to it in a way I understand all too well.
It takes Vander longer to return this time, and I start to worry that maybe he’s been caught. I consider sending Shawny back to check on him, but it proves unnecessary.
I relax as the sound of approaching footsteps grows louder. But when I turn to look, my stomach leaps into my throat, strangling a scream.
Chapter 21
Even in the dim moonlight, I can tell that the petite figure who glides along next to Vander is not Ty. I have a sickening suspicion as to who it is long before their faces become visible and I’m proven right.
“Kamella,” I hiss.
I shouldn’t be surprised that Vander wanted Kamella. If I had been thinking more clearly, I would have seen this coming. But over the past few days, I’d really started to trust Vander—to think that maybe he and I are fairly alike. But that was obviously a misjudgment. His infatuation with Kamella from the moment we met her has been obvious and problematic.
Kamella wasn’t even one of the options we discussed, but if we had, I would have objected vehemently. She was born in the Ash. What does she care about The City? There’s not a person behind that barrier field she knows or cares for.