by Tara Brown
I slumped onto the hard ground, sobbing and shouting with the red fabric pooling around me like a puddle of my own blood.
My screams took over all the sounds around me. My eyes shot open as I tried to sit up. Something forced me to lie down. A hand clamped over my face.
Lyle whispered in my ear, “Shhhhh, Gwyn. It’s okay. I have you. You’re safe.”
I blinked away the tears sitting in my eyes and slowed my breathing. A scream ripped across the dark sky. It made the desert feel small, like it was next to me. I tensed. The sound of more screaming took over the cool air. Amber slept still, but my brother held his hands over her ears and pinned her to the sand with his body. Michael’s eyes were wide with terror as he looked at something over the banks. I needed to see too. I turned to face Lyle, to watch his reaction to it. His eyes were wide, horrified. I started to breathe heavy again. He winced as a scream shot out louder than the ones that were ongoing. He glanced at me, shaking his head. “Don’t look, Gwyn.” He was pleading because he knew I had to.
I crawled up the sand bank, staying close to his body. The glow of the city took over my sight at first. It took several minutes for my eyes to see the dim light off to the side of the city. Along the dusty road, I could see movements at first. I narrowed my gaze and stared harder. What I saw was beyond what I had ever imagined in my worst imaginations.
The lights they held, like the firebox Michael had, gave off enough light that I could see the movements if I focused. A glint off of something being swung caught my eyes. It was like a slip of metal, like a knife but longer. A beast of a man held the long knife, chopping almost at the screaming person on the ground. My eyes shut on their own. I trembled into Lyle as each scream now made sense. It was the connection of long knife to flesh. I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t breathe. I was stuck in the swinging of the arm and the sound of the scream that owned me.
He held me, soothing me with his whispers but I didn’t hear them. I heard the scream and was able to imagine the way the knife sounded.
“It’s too awful. We have to help them,” Greg whispered harshly.
Michael spoke softly, “We can’t. We have to sneak away now while they’re busy with the ones who fight them.”
“What will they do with them?” I asked.
“Kill the ones who fight and sell the ones who remain alive.”
I frowned. “Sell?”
Michael turned to face me. “Sell. Trade. Humans are worth something in this world. The slavers take them and use them to do the work for them.”
“I don’t understand.”
Greg gave me a grim look. “Gwyn, they live at the top of their class and make the people below them do all the work.”
Lyle snorted. “Like the engineers. At least they have the decency to convince the slaves they like it.”
Slavers
I had never been excited to see anything as much as I was to see the rocky path back down into the river basin. Seeing the rushing water made me feel almost clean again. There was a residue inside of me. It was trapped and filled with the horrors I had seen. I would never be free of them. Never forget them. Never be clean again.
We were silent in steps and thoughts. No one had spoken much since we had left The Last City of Men. The other Last City of Men.
The riverbanks looked emptier than when we had left. We walked up to the houses for our people.
I sighed as I opened the door, but stopped when I saw the blood smears on the floor. Lyle bumped into the back of me. He towered over me. “What the heck?”
I backed up, “Hello?” I looked back at him. He called out louder, “Is anyone here?”
I pushed him out of the way and walked to the other one. There, in the far corner of the dusty room, sat Helena. Her eyes were wide, as was the gash along the side of her face. I rushed at her. “Helena, what happened?” She shook, unable to speak. I lifted her from the corner. “LYLE!”
He came bounding in and lifted her from the corner. I ripped a piece of cloth from the laundry line that looked as it had when we left. No one had brought it in. I ran for the water and soaked the cloth. He laid her down on the rocks by the river so we could get to the water. I wiped the cloth gingerly across the dried blood and seeping wound. I had never seen a wound like it before, but the marks on the river people reminded me of it.
Lyle looked at me. “I have seen this before. It’s called shock. She is in shock from the trauma of the events. I have seen it in the city when a person is horribly injured.”
Greg and Amber came running over. “Michael has gone to the elders of the river people. They say the slavers came. They let them take our people, sparing theirs.”
I started to cry. “They let them take our people?”
He nodded. His face was calm, but I could see the storm behind it in his eyes.
Lyle looked up at Greg. “Find out where they take them.”
Greg nodded. “I did already.” He glanced at Amber. “We should leave these two here and go after them. They’re only a day ahead of us and taking them to something called The Undead City.”
I wiped my eyes and stood. “I am coming. You are leaving me here to be stolen in the night or cut like this?”
Greg looked down at Helena. His eyes hardened. “Fine. You both come but you listen to me or I will tie you to the first thing I find.”
I glanced at Amber. Silent tears streamed her face. She shook her head. “I don’t understand. I have no memory of this place or what has happened. Where are we, Gwyn?”
I stroked her arm. “We are safe, Amber. We are safe.”
She glanced at Helena and shook her head. “I don’t feel safe.”
I walked away from them. I needed something for Helena’s face. I walked to the elder house. We were rarely allowed in it. I knocked on the door and waited.
The man with the one white eye opened the door. He grinned at me. “You made it back.”
I clenched my jaw. “I need a salve or something. My friend’s face is cut badly and it looks bad. And another thing, I can’t believe you let the slavers take our people.”
He gave me a disgusted look. “You lost ones always get so upset; it’s always the same with you. The no memory is frustrating for us. We see you do the same thing every time. You come and you’re scared, and you realize your city is not the only one, and you see suddenly the world has gone on without you. You lived safe behind those walls, and out here there is nothing to keep you safe. I will let them slavers take your family over mine. You would do the same to me.”
I looked deeply into his discolored eyes. “I wouldn’t.” The answer shocked us both. I always believed myself to be a coward, and instead, I was strong. Lyle was rubbing off on me. Lyle and Greg.
He frowned at me. “You blame us then for letting them take them? You think we should have died for your people who don’t know their history or yesterday?”
I shook my head dejectedly. “It doesn’t matter now. I just need something for my sick friend and the way to The Undead City.”
His eyes widened. “You will go after them?”
I nodded. “We will bring back any we find there, even yours. Now may I have some of the medicine I have seen your healers put on your people when they have injuries?”
He sighed and walked back inside, leaving the door open.
I stepped inside of the house. It smelled of a smoke of sorts. People were huddled inside, around the fire sticks that had a name I couldn’t recall. They smelled the same as the ones in Lyle’s house. The house was dark and cool inside.
I felt out of place and a strange sensation I couldn’t recall ever feeling. I was unwanted or unwelcome.
The white-eyed man pointed at me. “This one needs balm for the one they left.”
An old woman, something I also didn’t recall seeing hardly ever before, glanced up at me from a chair. She smiled. I tried not to make a face at the state of her teeth and skin. She was decaying in front of me.
She chuckled. “You are dif
ferent from the hollow-eyed lost ones.”
I nodded. “I remember. They do not.”
She sighed as she stood and hobbled over to a counter filled with things, debris. It was cluttered, at least I believed that to be the word.
She grabbed a small canister and passed it to me. “You bring it back when you’re done with it.”
I noticed the mark on her face in the flickering light of the fire stick. I swallowed. “Why do they cut the face?”
She grinned. “Mark you. They always leave one behind to tell the story.”
I nodded. “Thank you.” I held up the canister and turned to leave. Lyle was standing at the door to the house. He looked me over. “You alright?”
I nodded.
He gave them a look. “So, two days to The Undead City?”
The old woman chuckled. “You’re different too. The fire in your eyes matches hers. Maybe one day your hearts will match too. If you can win her heart, that is.” She gave a hearty laugh and turned to walk back to her chair. Lyle fought something, a feeling. I watched him desperately avoid my eyes. He wrapped an arm around me and led me from the house. How had she seen that on me? On us?
“They did something to her,” he muttered when we left the row of houses and started back toward the river.
I glanced at him. “Who?”
He looked sick. “Helena.”
When we walked over to her, I noticed the way she clung to Amber. She was drawing blood with her nails as she clawed at Amber’s shoulder. Greg backed away with his hands out. “It’s okay. I won’t come close again.”
Lyle stopped walking, before he too got close.
Amber looked horrified. “She started to scream when they came near her. I’m okay with her but she’s scared of Greg and Lyle.”
I knelt and grabbed the cloth I had used before. I got it wet in the cold water and then dragged it along the wide cut on her face. It went from under her right eye down her cheek to her chin. The meat was open.
“We could stitch it. I’ve seen it done,” Greg whispered, “but it would have to be you that does it.”
I looked back at him. “We could knock her out and then you could do it.”
He nodded and walked back to the healer house.
I cleaned the wound and spread the balm that smelled minty but pungent inside of the open cut.
She clung to Amber’s shoulder as I cleaned and tried to get as much of the seepage out of the wound.
Greg came back moments later. He had a cup of something and a bowl of something else. The old healer followed him, limping with a stick to help her walk. In the light of day, she seemed younger.
He passed the cup to me. “She has to drink it all.”
The healer grinned like she was going to enjoy it. Helena moaned into Amber’s shoulder. I placed the cup up to her lips. I smiled through my fear and sorrow. “Do you want to forget?”
She trembled, taking uneven breaths and nodded. She gripped the cup and drank back the whole glass of strange smelling brown water. She shuddered from the taste and continued to clutch Amber. I watched as her eyes slowly grew increasingly slack. They rolled into the back of their sockets and she was out. Amber placed her on the rock and looked at Greg. “What do you do?”
He bit his lip and dropped to his knees. He took my hands and poured what was in the bowl on both of our hands. It stung my now rough and callused fingers. Inside of the bowl was a fine needle and thread.
“You had a sewing kit on you?”
He laughed nervously. “I have a variety of things on me. My pockets have always been stuffed with things.” He gave me a hardened look. “Now that our fingers are clean, we cannot touch anything but her wounds and the needle until we are done.”
I nodded. Greg placed the bowl down and put his hands on either side of the wound. “I’ll pinch it shut. You sew, okay?”
I frowned. “This seems like a bad idea.”
“Just do it, Gwyn. Stop being ridiculous. If it were your face, you’d want it fixed.”
My nerves were on edge. I wanted to shout at him but I didn’t. I steadied my hands and picked up the needle. Lyle sat directly behind me. “You can do this.”
I nodded. Greg pinched the top of the wound near her eye together. I almost gagged. I remembered how to sew from class. I stuck the needle in, like I was sewing the purse made from the denim material the factory workers wore.
I moved the needle back and forth, trying desperately to ignore the blood coating my fingers and the thread. Amber lay on the rock next to her, holding her body. Even though she was asleep, none of us wanted her to feel like she wasn’t loved and cared for. She was. We hollow-eyed lost people loved each other.
“Your people never fought them. They let the slavers take them, volunteering themselves so some of the others would be spared. You are the strangest group of them we have found.” The old healer pointed. “I have never seen skin put back together with this kind of magic.”
I spoke softly, trying to focus on my needle and thread, “Why do you save us from the desert, if you are going to let the slavers take us?”
She didn’t answer, but Lyle did, “I think they bring us here so that the slavers will leave them in peace. It’s probably a deal they have worked out: They will collect the people from the last cities and they will keep them healthy and let them live here. They do this so the slavers don’t take their people.”
I glanced up at her. Her eyes burned. “You think you know us so well? You lived your whole life behind that wall. You don’t know what it’s like out here. What we live with every day. This is only a small taste of the bad things to come.”
Greg looked back at her. “And we will fight whatever comes next. We aren’t like you. Behind that wall we learned many important things, but the most important was compassion for each other. We have lived as a people, working together to stay alive and safe. That isn’t going to change.”
Amber stroked the other side of Helena’s face. “We take care of each other because we are each other.”
I finished the last stitch and decided to go back over it. I didn’t want it to rip open, at least until it was healed better. I rubbed more of the salve on it and looked back at Lyle. “I need something to make a bandage.”
He nodded and left. My back was cool instantly. He had been there, making me too warm but comfortable at the same time.
Greg cut the thread with his knife. I tied it off and looked at her beautiful face marred by the black thread making tracks in her skin. The red cut was less angry looking compared to the darkness of the stitches. I looked at it and shook my head. “It doesn’t seem right to make it like that across her face.”
Greg nodded. “The ones I saw were individual stitches. They cut after each one.”
I gave him a look. “Why didn’t you tell me I was doing it wrong?”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that her face is no longer ripped wide open. This will probably hold for the week it needs.”
The healer lady laughed. “That salve needs but two days. The healing is fast.”
I looked at the old marks on her body and nodded. “Will it heal like that?” I pointed at her leg.
She nodded. “Maybe better. We never put the skin together before. I have never seen this.”
I sighed. “Great.”
Lyle came back with several small strips of cloth. I wrapped them around her face and head. The bad side was covered completely.
“When she wakes, we have to make sure she doesn’t move her face.”
The healer pointed. “You bring her to my house; I will keep her sleeping for the days you are gone.”
I scowled. “You would do that for us?”
She nodded. “We don’t want your people to be hurt or taken.” Her dark eyes glossed over. “We just also don’t want our people to be hurt or taken. Yours forget every day. They always say every day is a new day. My people remember every minute of their torture until they die.”
&n
bsp; I understood her cruel motives. After watching the long knife fly through the air, hacking at the person screaming, I understood. Greg scooped Helena up into his arms. “I will bring her there and then we need to go.”
I nodded, exhausted and beaten down.
Amber nodded at the water. “Do we have a few minutes for a swim? I feel disgusting.”
I glanced at my bloody fingers and looked back at Lyle. He pulled his shirt off. “I don’t care if there is time or not. I need to cool off.”
We walked to the basin where it was calm. The water was cool, even with the sun on it. I didn’t bother taking my clothes off. I didn’t mind swimming in my leathers. I just untied the leather thong from my leg and dropped it and my knife into the sand. I noticed the thin white line across my leg where it had sat. My skin was thickening up and tanning. I would have the hide the river people had in no time. I already noticed muscles in places that weren’t there before. They dried almost instantly. It was a great way to wash them. I waded in slowly, watching Lyle’s strong tanned body enter the water. He swam a little and then dunked his head. He came up with a smile. “This will never get old. I love this river.”
I waded in deeper, feeling the slight pull of the water. I swam toward him and dunked my head too. My scalp no longer burned when it got wet. My white skin was ruddy like the river people but lighter. My face was aging with the tanning. It felt tighter. We didn’t tan on purpose in the city. It was something that happened to the orchard people. You could tell the farmers and orchard workers by their skin.
Some people, like Lyle, were blessed with golden skin. Even in the cold winter months his skin had a natural glow to it.