by Martha Adele
Swinging my hands to the center of our bodies and swinging up, I manage to break free of his grip and try to run away. Before I make it too far, John wraps his arm around my throat and pricks me in the arm with one of the little yellow vial bullets that was hanging on the wall beside us.
Within seconds, everything goes black.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Mavis
No.
This couldn’t have happened. No, no, no.
As I come out of the haziness, I feel a pain in my hips slowly become more apparent. I open my eyes and find myself on the floor of a bathroom stall. Forcing myself to my feet, I examine myself and find a mess.
There’s blood.
There wouldn’t be blood if it had not happened.
There wouldn’t be bruising either.
I have to get out.
I open the stall door and make my way to the sink. I wash my face and notice redness around my throat, most likely from where John grabbed me.
I can’t remember anything after that. I woke up on the floor, and that is it.
I exit the restroom and look around. No one is visible, so I make my way out of the restroom and pull out my messenger. Before doing anything with the device, I realize I have to get out of the building without being seen. I can’t let anyone see my injuries.
I can’t confront anyone.
I can’t get caught wandering the building, hazy and dazed.
Thinking back to when the woman back in Bergland administered me a vial the moment I became upset, I realize that the vial is the only way. It is the only way to get rid of this feeling.
To get rid of this feeling of horrid violation. To get rid of this feeling that I’d rather die than face that again.
To get rid of these thoughts.
Should I have fought harder?
Could I have fought harder?
Is this my fault? Is this my fault that I let him do this?
It is my fault. I shouldn’t have been in the same room with him alone.
I message Sam and ask him where he is. I need to borrow a vial, and I know he has some. I want peace. I have only a few vials back home, and I’d have to go through Derek and Ms. Page to get them first.
“Can you meet me somewhere close by the capitol building?” I message him.
Moments later, Sam responds, “I’m actually heading that way. Meet me in front of Lemon’s Bakery.”
I look around to see the streetlights on, but no one else out. I check the time on the messenger and notice how early in the morning it really is, forcing myself to wonder how long he had me for.
Sam
After finishing the last few chores I had to do on the farm, I began heading to Bram’s house, only to be messaged by Mavis.
When I turn the street corner to meet her, I see a silhouette standing by herself. Her arms are crossed so tightly that you’d think she was wrapped by tape.
“Mavis,” I call out to the figure and see her spin around to me. Immediately, I see in her eyes, expression, and mannerisms that she is upset. “What’s wrong?”
She looks away from me without a word. I make my way over to her to give her a hug, but she jumps back, bursting into tears.
“What? What’s wrong?” I ask.
She doesn’t let up. Her breathing deepens as she backs away from me.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
She sniffles and wheezes, trying to get herself under control. “I’m sorry.” She rubs her eyes with her palms, seemingly trying to cause blindness. “I’m sorry.”
“What happened?”
“Something.” She lowers her hands and looks away from me. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Mavis turns her body around and begins walking away.
“Hey, wait.” I follow her, quite confused as to what could have happened. I have never seen her act this way.
“I’m fine,” she tells me as I catch up. Pulling her jacket up almost to her ears, she shakes her head. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” I think back to when I said the same thing to her and tell her what she told me. “You can trust me, you know.”
“I know.” She looks at me and sniffles again, wiping the tears away with her sleeves.
Slowing our pace, I ask her, “Do you want to come with me to a friend’s house? They have vials you can use if you want. That is where I was heading.”
Mavis takes a deep breath and nods. She follows me, and we walk in silence. We walk for miles before arriving at Bram’s house. When we get there, I make my way onto the porch and turn around to see Mavis standing in the driveway.
“Are you okay? Do you want to go home?” It is obvious she is uncomfortable.
She shakes her head. “I’m okay.”
I knock on their door, and Markus opens it up. “Sam, hey.” He looks over my shoulder then back to me. “Who is this?”
“This”—I turn around and look at her—“is Mavis.”
Bram comes around the corner with a smile on his face. “Mavis? The Mavis?”
I chuckle. “Yes.”
“Oh, why hello, Mavis.” Bram shakes her hand and looks at me. “Sammy boy here talks about you a lot.”
She looks at me.
“All good things,” I tell her, earning a little chuckle.
Bram and Markus look at each other and come through the door, but leave it open. Markus looks at us both with a small smirk. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Mavis, but Bram and I actually have to get going.”
Bram wiggles his eyebrows at me. “We have an appointment.”
“Okay, but can Mavis and I go inside for a bit?” I look at each of them. “I need to grab a vial or two.”
Bram gives me a small squint. “I guess so.” He shakes my hand and pulls me into a hug. Whispering into my ear, he says, “Don’t use too many of the purples. I know how many we have.”
I pull away. “Got it.”
The guys leave us. Mavis and I enter the house, and I watch her awkwardly stand around, avoiding everything in the building.
“Go ahead and take a seat wherever,” I tell her.
After a moment of hesitation, she does. She sits at the table, and her eyes follow me as I head over to where Bram and Markus keep the vials.
She clears her throat. “Are you going to want someone to stay at your place with you tonight?”
I can tell she doesn’t want to go home for some reason. Mavis continues scratching her arm as I answer, “I’d be happy to have you stay over.”
She gives a little nod and forces her arms to cross once again.
I pull out one large blue vial for Mavis and one purple one for me. I would give Mavis a purple one, but she doesn’t seem to want the dreams. She wants the peace, and that’s what I’m going to give her.
“Here.” I hand Mavis the blue vial and take a seat across from her.
She holds it in her hand and stares.
“Please. Take it before we leave.” I look at her and close her fingers around it. “I really want you to feel better.”
Mavis looks at me with tears in her eyes as she shakes her head. I can tell she wants to say something, but she wants to stay quiet more.
I watch her as she stares at it and lets tears fall. She squeezes her eyes closed and injects the vial. Pulling it out of her leg, tears flow and she sets the vial onto the table and closes her eyes. Before she knows it, her head is lying back and she is fast asleep.
With her shoulders and body relaxed, her jacket falls. It loosens and slides down, revealing dark marks around her throat. Immediately, I lean forward and take a closer look at the marks, but realize how horrendous it would be if Mavis woke up just now. She wouldn’t want me, or anyone else for that matter, to be this close to her, and I am beginning to get an idea why.
I know she is st
rong. I know she is trying to be strong, but I also know she doesn’t have to be.
I take my purple vial and hold it close. Wrapping my fingers around it, I rise to my feet and go grab a few more vials. I place them all on the table so that I won’t wake Mavis if I need to get more.
With my medicine all lined up for the taking, I inject the vial into my leg and fall asleep next to one of my favorite people.
Mavis
My eyes slowly open, and I lift my head. I have a slight crick in my neck from the way I was lying, but not one big enough to slow me down.
Sam seems to have fallen asleep as well. Neither Bram nor Markus are back, so I assume the empty vials around him are his.
As I come out of my small nap, I feel the messenger in my pocket vibrating nonstop. Looking down to my pocket, I slowly pull out the little glass and plastic machine to see Derek’s messages.
They were sent hours ago.
“Where are you?”
“Are you okay?”
I wipe my eyes and message him back. “I’m staying over at Sam’s tonight. Sorry to worry you.”
Slowly sliding the messenger back into my pocket, I rise to my feet and stretch. My body feels much more relaxed than it has been feeling lately, but I don’t care. I try to shove off the memories, or lack thereof, from last night and move over to Sam.
“Sam,” I say to him, looking down at his glowing pocket as his messenger shines through the fabric. “Your messenger.”
He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t move.
I poke him in the arm to try to get him up. “Sam.”
He does nothing.
My heart begins to race, and the short-lived peace flees. I hold my fingers to his neck to find his pulse and feel nothing. I grab his wrist and wait for a small beat, but again feel nothing.
“Sam.” I grab his face and try to turn it to me, but it seems his muscles have all tensed up. “Sam, wake up.” I stare into his slightly opened eyes and see an image of nightmares. His blue irises have become beadier and more terrifying than anything I’ve ever seen.
His face lies whiter than usual, along with the rest of his body. His messenger continues to vibrate, so I pull it out of his pocket to get it to stop and see messages from Bram.
“Get out.”
“Get out now.”
I shake my head in disbelief and check Sam again. His pulse still remains nonexistent, and his eyes haven’t changed.
I message back to Bram, “Sam is dead.”
“Who is this?”
“Mavis. Sam is dead.”
Immediately, he returns with, “Get out now. Run into the woods behind the house, and keep running until you hit the street on the other side.”
I try to message back to him “What? Why?” but am caught like a deer in headlights as blinding white flashlights streak across the windows and through the curtains.
I shove Sam’s messenger into my pocket and stumble back. After getting to my feet, I run as fast as I can out their back door and into their woods. I don’t know what is happening, but I don’t want to stick around for it.
Sam trusted these guys, so I can too, right?
But Sam’s dead. I didn’t do it. Should I really be running from people who may be able to help me? Who may be able to help Sam?
I hear shouting from the house as I continue to run, followed by gunshots that hit the trees and ground surrounding me. The shooting only motivates me to run faster. The branches slap me in the face and I trip on weeds and briars as I push through, but nothing stops me.
I feel like I am back on the outside of the wall.
I run as fast as I can until I can’t run anymore. I slow my pace down and walk for a mile or so until a branch behind me snaps, causing me to run even faster than I did before. I go and go until I make it to the road, only to find no one there.
Pulling the messenger out, I regret my decision to trust them. “Where are you,” I send them. I wait for what feels like minutes before he finally responds.
“Once you come out of the woods, take a left on the road and walk until you see the road sign ‘Brook Street.’”
I immediately follow his directions and walk down the forest-lined roads where if someone wanted to jump out and attack me, they could. I wouldn’t be able to stop them. I can’t really even see anything past the first few trees beside the road. It is all darkness.
I walk until I see the sign. When I see it, I scurry over and wait. No one is here.
Bram messages me before I get the chance to message him. “I’m coming.”
I wait with my arms crossed, and look around for anything that could go wrong. Another branch snaps from behind me, but just before I take off running, Bram calls out, “Hey.”
I turn around and walk over to the other side of the road to meet him. “What is going on? Sam is dead, and there are people shooting back at your house!”
Bram looks around in a frenzy and waves for me to follow him. “Markus and I saw a police team flooding the neighborhood, raiding houses, and looking for vial stashes. We knew we were screwed.”
“Is that why you guys left? You framed Sam and I?”
“No! Markus and I had to leave because we were meeting with an associate. I wanted Markus there for backup. You and Sam just came at the wrong time.” He pauses and we both stop in our tracks. “Is Sam really dead?”
“Yes!” I shout, immediately regretting it. I scream whisper, “That is what I have been trying to tell you! One of my best friends is dead in your house, and I couldn’t do anything about it because I had to run or I would be shot! What did you get me in to?”
Bram continues walking again. “What happened to Sam?”
“I don’t know.” Flashes of Sam’s pale face and body come back to me. “He was dead when I woke up.” The image of his eyes pops back into my head, and I have to try to shove it off.
Bram continues his walk in silence, but I don’t.
“Where are we going?” I ask him, stepping over broken branches.
“We are staying with a group. We are leaving Frieden.”
I pause, frozen in confusion. “What?”
He continues walking. “You are involved now too. You can stay behind if you want, but it is your funeral.”
Still frozen, I look around the woods and let my eyes fall back on Bram.
If I go back, I could be shot at or killed. If I go forward, I don’t know what could happen. Something worse could be waiting for me if I go with Bram than if I went back.
Not knowing what to do, I force myself to follow one of the last people Sam ever trusted.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Werner
In my seat, remaining perched and ready for any and every shot I take.
I sit on the roof of a building toward the edge of Kern, which also happens to be on the edge of Frieden. Right now, I sit and wait to guard the border of our new nation. I watch the river flow through the barred portion of the wall. This is where I have been assigned to sit and guard tonight.
If people try to get in, it is my job to execute them. If people try to get out, it is my job to execute them. Those who enter Frieden now are extremists who are trying to get back in after escaping to meet up with other extremists. Those who exit Frieden are the same.
The extremists are the ones who want Frieden to crumble. They are the ones who want Bestellen back. We can’t let that happen. By guarding the wall, I am doing one of the highest services there, keeping the peace.
Immediately, I aim my gun and look through the scope at the flock of people trying to leave through the portion of the wall that is open for the river to flow through. The bars are too close together to let people and animals enter and escape, so I watch. It could be a group going for a late night swim.
I am quickly proven wrong as the woman at the front of the group
twists one of the bars off and slides through. One of the men of the group pushes past everybody and forces himself through the poles, but falls lifeless as my first shot rings through the air.
Another shot follows, and another person goes down, floating down the river. I take another shot and another shot as the people quickly try to head through the bars. Each one I shoot at goes down.
I move my aim toward the end of the line to find one woman and one man, trying to get over the dead bodies. I aim my gun for another headshot when I see the woman turn around.
Her blond hair flips over her shoulder and out of her face long enough for me to recognize her.
It’s the girl from the bar.
PART THREE
Survival
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Logan
My stiffness and inability to move my back becomes more apparent as I wake to the wall phone ringing. I quickly try to get to my feet, but am overcome by a sharp pain in my lower back.
Instead of heading to Mavis’s last night, I should have come home and rested like I told John I was going to. She didn’t even show up. Once Derek came home, we exchanged a few awkward glances, and then Caitlyn put the food on the table. After seeing that Mavis wouldn’t be home for dinner, I excused myself because I felt I was intruding. Ms. Page and Caitlyn seemed upset, but Derek seemed just as confused as I was.
Maybe I should take that as a sign. Maybe Mavis and I aren’t meant to be together. I mean, the first time I purposely go out of my way to be with her alone, she doesn’t show. What else am I supposed to do?
Slowly, I slide off the bed and make my way into the living room to retrieve the phone.
I clear my throat, realizing that I was sleeping with my mouth open. “Hello?”
A gravelly voice answers on the other end, “Yes, is this Logan Forge?”