by Martha Adele
I head into my spare room and pull my bow and quiver off the wall. As I head out of my house, I grab the book I am currently reading off my dining room table. Typically, when I get back from assignments, I follow a routine. I grab my hunting gear and the book, head out into the woods, walk until I grow weary, then plant myself where I please. I spend most of my time in nature. This is where I prefer to be. This is where I distract myself from reality.
The reality is that my job is to kill people.
After seeing the girl from the bar, someone I knew and someone who I don’t think is a criminal, I can’t help but rethink things. I know that blindly following orders is wrong. I know that there should always be a reason why you do things. I just thought that now that we are under a new government, I could trust them. Now that we weren’t under a dictatorship, things would be different.
But are they?
If they are different, then I made a huge mistake. I let people go, lied to my boss, and unknowingly aided rebels who are fighting to destroy everything we’ve worked for.
But if things aren’t different, then I am committing far worse acts than any rebel ever could.
Mavis
The cold morning breeze blows against my damp clothes as the group continues walking. I rethink and review the events of the last few hours and try to force myself out of a state of shock.
When we made it through the river, we immediately ran into the woods, following the short woman leading us.
Markus was the first one to drop dead when the gunfire started. A woman followed him, and another man followed her. We ended up losing half of the group.
Everyone who was in front of me other than the woman who opened the bars for us, Van, was shot dead. Once it was my turn, the gunfire had stopped. I made it through, followed by Bram and two others. We made it into the water and swam behind the wall so that whatever was shooting at us wouldn’t be able to anymore.
We ran. We were wet and cold, but the heat we produced from running helped us keep going. After we were a safe distance away from the wall, we were able to start walking.
The sun slowly rises and gradually allows heat to fall through the roof of trees around us. The longer we walk, the more I realize that I’m back in the woods. The same woods where I met Sam and Logan. The same woods where I was chased by a pack of unnaturally large rats.
Though we walk for hours, stopping for small breaks to eat what little amount of food our guide has stashed along the path, I’ve noticed that we have not run into any animals. The large catlike beast that Sam described hasn’t appeared. We haven’t heard the animals that tore apart the boy, that ran away from Sam and Logan, and most importantly, we have not run into the rat pack.
I assume they are hiding. Since the war was full blown and we moved into Frieden, cars and carriers have been rampant throughout the woods. Once we no longer needed to move from Bergland back to Frieden, the cars and carriers ceased to make their ways out of the wall. I figure that the animals would have returned to their normal state by now.
When the sun sets after the long day of walking, Van, our guide, readjusts her dark black ponytail and takes us to a large tree. “We’ll sleep here tonight. By tomorrow, we’ll be where we need to go.” She slides the straps of her bookbag up and shows us how to climb up the branches.
The bottom branches are much smaller and thinner, but as we continue upward, the branches extend and become much thicker than any I’ve ever seen, almost reaching the thickness of the trunk. When we get to the top, everyone settles in and chooses where to rest. The branches are so large that we can sit on them without really needing to worry about falling off.
Almost immediately, everyone lies back and falls asleep.
At least they act like they’re asleep.
I look around, remaining ready to flee at any given moment. The animals could be back. There could be something lurking.
Something.
Worse than animals.
There’s always something worse.
“Hey.” Bram nudges me in my arm, causing my body to jolt. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I look from him and his hammer tattoo back out into the familiar dome of leaves. “It’s fine.”
“You need to get some sleep,” he tells me.
I look back at him and wonder. Why would he care? I know he was friends with Sam, but Sam is dead.
Sam is dead.
“I’m fine.”
“Mavis.” Bram scoots a little bit closer to me, and I immediately scoot away. Bram stops in his tracks, seeming somewhat shocked at my movement. “Sam talked about you nonstop. I know that you’re always on guard, but we are up in the trees. From what Sam told me, the trees are the safest place to be out here. And plus, there are all these other people that are here to watch.”
I look down at my fingers and find myself rubbing my hands.
“It’ll be okay,” he tells me.
I nod and lay my head back against the trunk of the tree. “I know.”
I don’t know. I say this to get Bram to mind his own business. He leans back against the tree trunk and closes his eyes. As he begins to rest, I try to also. My eyes fall closed, but open every time I hear more than a leaf rustle in the wind. I slip in and out of a light and headache-inducing sleep, just as I did the first time I was in these woods.
Every moment I flash back is worse than the time before. I close my eyes and remember the rats chasing me. I squeeze my eyes closed and fast-forward to the bombing in Bergland, the bombing where we lost Henry. All the horrible things come flooding back in a panic. All the people I lost, all the pain I felt, all the horrendous acts—they all come back.
My eyes open to see the dome of leaves surrounding us now, the same way they did the first time, but this time is different. I notice the leaves aren’t quite as big as the leaves were when I was exiled. These leaves are much smaller and more plastic looking, but remain on the end portions of the branches.
A small shift and shake catches my attention. My eyes flicker to my right as I try to find the source of the noise when a ball of white fluff with burgundy stripes creepily inches its way onto a branch in front of me. Its face reminds me of a fox, though its skull is much more rounded and its snout is much thinner. Its tail is about double the length of its entire body and carries the red-and-white fluffy stripes.
I rub my eyes and squint, trying to get a better picture and somehow cause it to freeze in its spot. Nothing on the animal moves for moments, not even its fur. Its head slowly turns to me, and its bright yellow eyes meet mine. The needlelike pupils slowly grow and consume its iris until darkness is the only thing staring at me.
The animal doesn’t move. I size it up as its body remains frozen. Continuing to stare at it, I force my overwhelming sense of uneasiness and nudge Bram in the arm slightly. He jerks awake and makes a grunting noise, causing the tree fox to seize up and scream an absolutely horrendous noise.
It bares its teeth and continues shouting a loud and high-pitched screech that wakes everyone up. Less than a moment later, the screeches multiply in number and seem to hit our ears from every direction possible.
“Get down now!” Van shouts at us over the sounds of the approaching beasts. I am the first to make my way down the branches. One after another, we all shimmy down the tree and try to get to the ground as quickly as we can. I watch as the animals chase after us, hopping from branch to branch, swiping at us with their claws and nipping at us with their long snouts.
After making it about halfway down the tree, one of the fox creatures manages to lunge at and bite the arm of one of the girls. She shouts as the foxes continue to scream, and she rips the animal off her arm and chucks him as far as she can, still scurrying down the tree. Once our feet hit the ground, we run, following the guide as fast as we can. The foxes seem to have stayed in the trees so I feel slightly safer, but I ca
n hear them running through the branches above us, shouting their battle cries. Though they stop following after a minute or two, I continue to feel as if the danger will never leave.
There is no safe space.
We run for at least a mile before the girl with the bleeding arm finally speaks up to the guide. “Can we slow down?”
Van looks around to the group and nods. Slowing to a speed-walking pace, she wipes her forehead to remove the sweat. “Yes. We can’t stop though. The creek is right up here, and we need to rinse out your wound.”
The girl nods, and we all keep walking.
Bram and I continue beside each other and look around to make sure nothing else is lurking. We make sure to keep a good pace and stay toward the center of the group. I make sure to stay there because being at the end or being at the front both mean you can be an easy target. I don’t know why Bram has decided to stay in the center though. I assume it is because I am the only other person in this group he knows.
When I turn to look at him, I notice he holds his forearm in a way that I can only describe as he is covering something.
“What’s that?” I ask him.
He looks down at his arm and back at me. “Nothing.”
I continue to stare at him until he shows me four small cuts on his arm. “One of them scratched me.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“What good would that do?” he asks me. “I can rinse it off once we get to the water, but until then, how would whining help anything?”
I shrug, knowing he is right.
We walk in silence until the sound of the babbling brook hits our ears, and Van sprints off. “Come on.”
Following her speed, we make it to the small stream, and she immediately waves the girl over with the bite. Van holds her shoulder in the clear water and lets it run in and through the wound. Bram makes his way over and holds his arm in the water as well. His face immediately scrunches up, but after a moment of the cool water running over his cut, his face falls into a relaxed position.
“Hey.” Van looks at me and points over to the base of a random tree, where a small hole lies in the trunk. “Can you please bring me the bag that is inside of that hole?”
I glance over to it and nod. After making my way over to the hole, I slide my hand into the opening and find that the bag is much larger than I figured it would have been. I assume it won’t make it through the trunk’s hole, but am quickly proven wrong when the opening expands with the bag. It acts as if it is a foam covering that moves as you move it. I stare at it for a moment, confused, but my attention is quickly diverted by Van calling out to me once more. “Hey.”
I spin around and bring her the bag.
She points to it and looks up to me. “Pass out the bottles. One for everyone.” Van takes a bottle from my hand and pops off the lid. “Hey, guys, watch. Hold this end of your bottle in the water, and a filter will clean it and make it safe for you to drink. After you collect enough water”—she pops the lid back on and unscrews the entire top of the bottle to reveal a cup—“you can drink. Just remember to unscrew the top. Okay?”
Everyone heads upstream from the girl and Bram. We fill our waters and drink the cool liquid, and I find this to be the second most refreshing drink I have ever had. Bram grabs his bottle and comes over to me. Sitting on the side of the stream, holding his arm, he fills his bottle.
“Does it feel any better?” I ask him.
He nods. “A little bit. It still stings though.”
Van calls out from her spot with the girl, “Once we get to the bunker, I will have the nurses check you both. They will get you patched up there.”
We sit in silence, listening to the two others whisper to each other and Van telling the girl who got bit that she’ll be okay. Everyone other than Bram and I sit, seemingly focusing on each other, while the two of us stare off into the woods.
There’s something else out there.
I know there is.
The sun is slowly rising, but the darkness is still around. We are still consumed by it.
I lean over to Bram as he drinks his water and whisper, “Why do you trust her?” I look over to her as she fixes her ponytail. “The guide?”
He lowers his cup and looks over to her, making the topic of our conversation more than obvious. “Why wouldn’t I?” He looks back at me and takes a sip of his water, never breaking eye contact.
“Off the top of my head?” I ask. “Because following her got Markus shot?”
Everyone at the creek becomes silent. I realize I said my remark much too loud.
Bram’s jaw clenches, and he looks away from me, revealing the sweat dripping down his face onto his tattooed neck. “Are you going to blame her for Sam’s death too?”
I remain quiet, not knowing what to say. Everyone at the stream looks around, searching for the next person to speak.
Van rises to her feet and looks at me. “Are you a Bergland native?”
I shake my head.
“But you’ve heard Frieden’s anthem? The same one Bergland held for years?”
I nod, feeling all eyes on me.
“You don’t know Bergland’s full history, so allow me to enlighten you.” Van sits down and fills her cup with the stream water. “Back when the Diligent were in a similar situation as us, they had songs to lead them to safe havens. One of those songs held the words that Bergland used for their anthem, but that wasn’t it. Bergland was always a temporary nation. It was never meant to be a permanent situation, so they took the words and modified them. They took the words that motivated people and put them into the song we would hear at least once a month.
“The songs led our people through the woods, searching for clues and rest stops on their way to safety.” Van lifts her cup up and unscrews the lid. “They fled for the same reason I assume you all are. It wasn’t safe where you were.” She sips her water, and we all remain silent.
I want to ask questions. I want to ask why it wasn’t safe. I know it wasn’t. If it was, we wouldn’t have been shot at.
I want to know what is happening. I want to know why Markus was shot and why Sam died. I want to know why we are being forced to flee through these woods, just as I was forced to before.
But I don’t ask. I remain silent and let everyone else’s conversations fill the air. When everyone is done with their break, Van rises to her feet, takes the water bottles, puts them back into the bag, and shoves the bag back into the hole.
We walk for hours upon hours, seemingly hiking the entire day, until Van finally pulls us aside. “Ready?” She takes a sharp turn and shows us to a large tree trunk. Her fingers slide through the rough bark until she somehow finds a small latch. Her hand pushes a circular cutout of the tree inward and spins it like a wheel, forcing the bark in the circle out of line. A bark-covered door slowly pops out of the tree, surprising us all. Van pulls it aside and gestures for us to climb down the hole. “Safety awaits.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Mavis
My feet hit the concrete tunnel’s floor, and I spin around to look. Our entire group stands down in this stuffy dimly lit entrance waiting for Van and the girl who got bit to finish climbing down the ladder.
“Come on, Samantha,” Van tells her as their feet hit the ground. “You got it.”
Samantha holds her arm to her body as if it is broken and looks around to each of us. Her focus flickers past us and down the tunnel. “How much longer do we have to walk?”
Van shakes her head and waves us all to follow. “Not long.”
The group makes its way slowly down the tunnel, seemingly hesitant to go any farther. The sound of our steps echoes off the walls, and it magnifies the longer we walk. When a second sound of people talking hits our ears, Van speeds up, sprinting toward the end, and we all follow.
“Hey!” she yells into the room the tunne
l leads us to. Running up to one of the random people walking through the large area, she tells them, “Go get the medic.”
The person nods and sprints away, down another hallway, and out of sight. The longer I look around, the more I realize that when we exited the tunnel, we seemed to have arrived back in Bergland.
The group stands awkwardly in the room that looks extremely similar to one of the Bergland common areas, waiting for Van to explain what is happening. Before she gets the chance, three people come out of one of the hallways and look at us. My eyes fall immediately upon one of them as she rushes over.
“Mavis!” Janice says to me as she wraps me in a hug.
I shove her off and stumble back as the medic rolls out one of the stretchers and brings it over to Samantha. Everyone stares at me in shock as Janice regains her balance.
“What?” I stutter out. “What are you doing here! You’re dead! We were told you were dead!” My head begins to pound as a sense of anguish comes rushing back.
Samantha is rolled out of the room, and Van turns to Bram. “Go with her. You need to have them check your scratches as well.”
Bram nods to her and follows Samantha, leaving the group staring at Janice and I. The two others that walked out with Janice wave the group to go with them. After a moment of continuous staring at me, they hesitantly follow.
“Mavis, I—”
“Sam’s mom died while you were gone. Sam died while you were gone! Is he here to? Should I assume that he isn’t dead? Should I just throw away all the mourning I did for Henry as well? Is he here too?”
Janice raises one of her hands to try to silence me. “What happened to Sam?”
The palms of my hands immediately find their way to my eyes. I rub them forcefully until all I can see is swirls of different-colored spots. “I don’t know. He was there, and then he wasn’t. I don’t know what—”
Janice comes back over to me and attempts a hug, but quickly pulls back, knowing I don’t want to be touched. “And Logan?”