by Jen Minkman
“Whatever,” I say curtly. With a frown, I lean against Walt’s side and stare ahead through the windshield as Walt and William ask our guide even more questions.
Tony can say what he will – my mind is set on getting to Exeter. Nobody is going to stop me. If terminally ill people manage to go there and come back, then surely I can take a quick look around as well.
I really hope Walt is willing to tag along, because I have no idea how to pull it off, as of yet.
11 – Leia
Once we’re inside the Moretonhampstead Library, Walt and William can’t stop gawking at all the books it contains. Most people in our travel party ask one of the librarians to show them around, but we three decide to look around by ourselves, checking out whatever looks most interesting to us.
“Have a look at this,” Walt exclaims, stopping in front of a large map on the wall. “This was what the world looked like before the war broke out.”
The giant land mass, printed in all different colors of the rainbow, is dwarfed by the amount of water surrounding it. “It’s like a big island,” I say. “Or two islands, more like. Where’s Cornwall?”
Finding our current whereabouts proves to be very difficult. At last, we manage to pinpoint a small, irregularly shaped island called Great Britain. “That’s the country that Cornwall formerly belonged to,” William mumbles. “But Cornwall is not on this map. It’s – too small.”
Again, I get the feeling that the world is never-ending. Frighteningly wide. Filled with people who are all so different from me. Seven days ago, I stole Saul’s book and broke the rules for the first time, and now, I find myself here. It feels as though that theft took place years ago. So much has happened and so much has changed that it overwhelms me.
“Walt,” I mumble, tugging at his arm and pulling him away from the map. “I want to go to Dunsford. And to Exeter from there. That’s the only thing in the old world I really want to see.”
Walt shoots me a baffled look. “But Tony said they won’t allow us.” He lowers his voice. “You want to sneak out?”
I shrug. “Wouldn’t be the first time I climbed a wall or fence I’m not supposed to look behind.”
He starts to smile. “Yeah, same here.” He casts a nervous look over his shoulder. His father has sat down at the table and is engrossed in a large volume entitled ‘Encyclopedia – Tonalite-Vesuvius’. “You want to go right now?”
“Yes, actually I do.” I cock my head and look at him. “Unless you want to stick around to unveil the mysteries of the Tonalite-Vesuvius. Whatever that is.”
Walt bursts out laughing. “Nah, never mind. I’ll ask my dad for the summary.”
He turns around and quickly tells his father about our plan to spend the rest of the day exploring the neighborhood. He doesn’t mention just how far we plan to venture out, though. We don’t want to alarm him.
“So I’ll catch up with the two of you in the hotel tonight,” William says. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep myself entertained.”
After we step outside, I slip my hand into Walt’s hand and look up at him. “How do we get to Dunsford? Tony said there’s a bus, but how are we supposed to drive it?”
“It’s being driven,” Walt replies. “Every half hour. By a driver who does it for a living.” He inches toward me and continues in a serious voice: “Entering Exeter might make us sick. Tony said it would. Don’t get me wrong, I want to see the place just as much as you do, but you have to promise me we’ll turn around and go back the minute we start feeling unwell. The first symptoms of radiation poisoning are headache and vomiting.”
“Of course.” I smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks for coming with me.”
“My pleasure. You’re not the only one with a sense of adventure. I’ve rocked some boats in my life, too.”
A passer-by is kind enough to tell us that the bench opposite the library is a bus stop. That’s where we can wait for the bus to Dunsford to get here. We’re lucky – it shows up at the end of the street just as we’re about to sit down. The door opens with that peculiar hissing sound I’m getting used to, and a man with a brown cap on his head greets us amicably as we board.
The two seats behind the driver are still free, so that’s where we sit. We’re starting to have our ‘usual’ seats on a bus, I think with a smile. I have to admit, the new world is equipped with everything to make life easy. I wouldn’t mind having a bus service like this on Tresco, connecting east and west. That would save a lot of time. The westerners have domesticated their horses and ride them regularly, but we don’t have that. For us, it was a sport to get close enough to a wild horse to jump on its back and ride around without falling off. I was always good at that. Ben said my skills with horses wouldn’t help me much when it came down to surviving the wild, but I always ignored his comments. He was probably just jealous.
For the very first time since leaving the island, I wonder how Ben and Saul are doing. It’s strange – now that I’m so far away from the place where they used to terrify me, I can’t imagine why I was ever that scared of them. I’ve seen much more horrifying things by now. With Saul, at least it was clear he was a cruel brute, but the people in charge of Dartmoor hide their bloodthirstiness behind a mask of pacifism. How did the new world get twisted this way?
“You still have Gideon’s book with you?” I ask Walt as we drive out of town and once again dissolve into the greens and grays of the moors.
He pulls it out of his pocket. “Yeah, I do. You want to read some more?”
I look sideways. “What I’d like to know is where the Dartmoorers’ motto comes from.”
“The no crying, no pain thing?” Walt flips through the book. “I happen to know that, because my dad bookmarked that particular passage. He asked about it in the church.”
The story is called ‘Revelations’ and the chapter marked by a piece of ribbon sticking out is number twenty-one. “I saw a new heaven and a new earth,” I read out softly. “For the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more.”
“What does that mean?” Walt wonders aloud. “The sea is still there, isn’t it?”
“No idea.” My eyes absorb the words. “Then I saw the holy city, New Dartmoor, coming down out of heaven. God’s home is now among his people.” The next line contains the words I was looking for.
“How can Dartmoor be in that holy book?” Walt mumbles. “This is a text from the old world, right?”
“It’s not the original text, remember?” I observe. “It’s in the palace. Maybe they put in some extra things to clarify the meaning.”
It doesn’t take long for us to get to Dunsford. In the distance, I can see the high fence surrounding all of Dartmoor County. In my memory it was a lot lower. Only a miracle will get us over that fence without anyone seeing us, so I’m hoping for one.
The bus calls at a few important-looking buildings in the little town of Dunsford. The driver calls out where we are each time. City Hall. Market. Hospital. And then he announces the border checkpoint. “Final stop,” he adds. “All passengers need to leave this bus.”
Walt gets up and reaches for my hand. “You coming?”
We get off and stand there, looking around a bit forlornly. All the other passengers clearly have business here. They fan out and disappear into various directions, leaving us lingering next to the bus stop long after the vehicle has left again.
“Let’s walk over to the checkpoint,” Walt suggests. “Who knows, we might be able to see Exeter from there.” He doesn’t sound very convinced.
Slowly, we make our way to the border gate, and suddenly I feel stupid for wanting to come here so badly. Tony is right – we’ll never get past the guards. The gate is under constant surveillance and the fence around Dartmoor is so tall that we have no way of scaling it to hop over. It’s made of a metallic material that looks like a net. It reminds me of the aluminum used in Tony’s devices.
“So what do we do?” I ask Walt.
�
��I don’t know. I bet we don’t look sick enough to slip through.”
My eyes sweep the road ahead. I want to know if any vehicles are leaving Dartmoor, because I just saw a small van coming into the gate. On the side it says ‘Maintenance’ in big, colorful letters. It must transport workmen who are responsible for keeping the fence in optimal condition.
Just at that moment, I hear someone calling us. Soft, yet insistent. “Hey. You over there.”
I turn around at the same time as Walt and spot a guy our age, his face partially hidden by a ginger fringe. He’s leaning against the gatehouse and has his eyes fixed on us. As he pushes off the wall and walks away, he beckons us, his feet following the line of the impenetrable fence.
“Now what does he want?” Walt hisses.
“No clue, but loitering here is pretty much pointless. Let’s follow him.”
The red-haired guy is speeding up considerably now. He gracefully jumps over the holes and dents in the earth next to the fence. After about two thousand paces we end up at a small farm that seems to have nestled up against the fence, like an animal seeking shelter and safety. Only then does the boy turn around. He smiles when he sees we’ve followed him – he might have thought we wouldn’t.
“Hi,” I begin insecurely. “I’m Leia. And this is Walt.”
“Victor,” he introduces himself before falling silent and taking us in with narrowed eyes. “You both want to go outside?”
My eyes widen. “How do you know?”
He cocks his head. “I can tell. I’m trained to spot people who want to, you know. Otherwise me and my mom wouldn’t be able to help refugees. It’s not like they come to the border carrying big signs saying ‘Get Me Out’ if they want to leave.”
“People – can’t leave here?” Walt stammers.
Victor raises an eyebrow. “You’re clearly not from around here. That’s what I thought. Your accent is kind of strange, too. But, no Walt, people can’t leave here. Everybody signs a contract and afterwards the government wants to keep them inside. The less influence from outside, the better. No unrest, no iffy diseases, no trouble. President Jacob takes good care of his flock, so what could they possibly want out there?” He sniffs contemptuously. “Isn’t it funny that Dartmoor used to be a prison in the old days? Very – fitting, so to speak.”
I can’t believe my ears. The whole situation is even worse than I thought. “So everybody’s trapped here?” I ask, my voice cracking.
The hardness in Victor’s face dissolves. His eyes take on a hint of sadness. “No. Most people are fine living like this. This way they don’t have to think about what should be changed.”
“Can you help us to get to Exeter?” Walt asks. “That’s why we want to leave.”
“Exeter?” Victor echoes. “What the hell for?”
“That’s none of your business,” I snap impatiently. “Can you help us or not?”
“That depends.” He gauges me with his green eyes. “What’s in it for me?”
Oh. I hadn’t really expected that. So far, we’ve only met charitable, selfless people in Dartmoor who said they believed in miracles and generosity. This guy obviously has a very different life philosophy. Which shouldn’t surprise me, because he’s opposed to Dartmoor’s government. “Uhm,” I stammer. “What would you like?”
An unpleasant smile creeps up Victor’s face when his gaze rakes me up and down. “Well,” he starts out suggestively.
Out of nowhere, Walt is between me and the redhead. He shoots Victor a contemptuous glare. “Hold that thought, and don’t say it out loud if you know what’s good for you,” he says icily.
Victor turns pale. “Fine.”
An idea pops into my head. “I have this,” I say, handing over the New Testament. “It isn’t worth much, but if you help us I promise I’ll bring you an object from the cathedral. You’ll get it when we come back.”
I see him swiftly considering my offer. “Deal,” he says, his voice trembling slightly. Apparently, my proposal is even more tempting than I thought.
He turns around and walks toward the farm. Walt frowns at Victor before grabbing my hand. “What a disrespectful brat,” he grumbles. “The way he looked you over. I had half a mind to knock him over the head.”
I laugh nervously. “I wouldn’t do that around here, if I were you. Before you know it, soldiers will be here, needles at the ready.” I lean into him and kiss him gently on the lips. “Thanks for standing up for me,” I whisper.
“You’re welcome,” he replies. “Now let’s take a look at how Victor is planning to get us out of this place.”
That quickly becomes evident when Victor leads us into the barn where they keep cattle. In the rear wall is a door, almost invisible amidst the old, dark wooden planks. It swings open on creaky hinges, showing us the world beyond the fence. So there’s a hole in the barrier – a gate used by refugees who have reconsidered the president’s promise of a perfect life under Gideon’s law.
“How far is it to Exeter?” I say, gazing into the distance.
“About seven miles.” Victor shoots me a dubious look. “Are you sure you’re prepared enough for this trip?”
“We have a map.” I grab Walt’s hand and drag him along. “Come on, let’s go.”
“Make sure you follow the track running downhill from here,” Victor warns us. “It will keep the border patrol from seeing you once you go off into the wild.”
“Where do all the refugees go?” Walt wants to know. “I thought the wilderness was poisoned land?”
Victor grins. “I’m not supposed to talk about it. But don’t worry – all those selfish, violent thugs who escape are better off out there.”
I’m happy we’re leaving. Victor’s sarcastic, self-satisfied ways are starting to grate on my nerves. “And so will we,” I add. “What time should we be back?”
“Before dark, please.”
Walt nods briefly and we walk out the door hand in hand. Victor is right – there’s a narrow trail crossing the moor, probably worn out by the feet of all the refugees who have fled Dartmoor before.
“Well, we’re on our way,” Walt says, letting out a relieved sigh once we end up at the bottom of the hill and Dartmoor is hidden from view. “It’s about a two-hour walk.”
“Walk?” I smile at him. “Why would we walk?”
“What do you suggest, sprout wings?”
I bump his shoulder. “No, silly. We’re going to ride a horse.”
Walt seems even more puzzled now. “What?”
“Wild horses live on these moors,” I explain. With my trained eyes, I spotted their tracks as soon as we left the farm, not to mention all the dried-out horse pats. Walt has probably never ridden a wild horse before, and already I’m chuckling at the thought of him sitting behind me and desperately clinging to my back during our trip. It doesn’t happen a lot that I’m better at something.
“Well, they sure know how to hide.” He casts a look around. “Come on, let’s just go on foot.”
“What, are you scared?” I tease him.
“Of riding some wild, unpredictable animal into an irradiated city? Why would I?” he deadpans. Only the slight tremor in his voice tells me that I’m actually right.
“Just leave it to me.” I point at a patch of woodland rising up from the moor. “Why don’t you have a seat? I’ll be right back with our ride.”
“Sure.” Walt demonstratively plunks down on one of the rocks along the trail.
I walk a bit further downhill and veer off toward the patch of trees that the horse tracks lead to. I’m sure at least part of the herd will be there, because the woods probably contain a source of water.
I tiptoe along, carefully stepping over dry bushes. The grass mutes my footsteps. When I get to the edge of the woods, I know I was right – I can even smell the animals. It’s a slightly different scent than what I’m used to, and when I stealthily zigzag through the trees to reach the small pool in the middle, I understand why. They’re ponies. Tony
has told us about these animals. Apparently, there are strings of wild Dartmoor ponies, but also domesticated ones, and the latter are used as riding animals within the fence. These animals are definitely not tame, but so small that I’ll have no problem catching one to jump on its back. What’s more, their manes are so long that I can easily hold on.
The animal closest to me looks like a filly. That’s fortunate, because I want to steer clear of stallions for now. I crawl toward the animal. It’s a good thing I’m upwind so she can’t catch my scent.
It’s only when I grab the filly’s mane and swing myself onto her back in one fluid motion that the rest of her string becomes aware of my presence. The other three take off, whinnying and snorting. My filly is bucking to throw me off, but I don’t let go and press my legs into her sides. Leaning toward her ear, I softly whisper to her, and when she finally calms down I rub her head and neck while humming a tune. Of course I didn’t bring any honey candies, so my sweet singing will have to do in this case.
When I leave the woods shortly afterwards and steer my new pony toward Walt sitting on his stone, he gapes at me as if I suddenly grew three extra heads. “What – how did you do that?” he marvels.
I smile. “Patience, charm and persistence. You coming?”
He shoots the filly a suspicious look. “How am I supposed to get on without stirrups?”
“Just hold on to me and you can’t go wrong.”
After three fruitless attempts, Walt finally manages to clamber up and sit behind me – and I’m secretly thanking my lucky stars I didn’t catch an actual horse. We’d have been here until sunset.
With a cheeky grin on my lips I turn around. “So, shall we?”