by Hannah Ross
"You must be the newest batch of outcasts!"
"Yes," said Elisa. "That's us!" She shifted her eyes and smiled at the youngest boy of the group, who looked like he was trying to remember something. "Isn't your name Ron?"
"I am Ron," he said. "And you… I know you but I don't remember your name. Sorry." He looked to the auburn-haired leader. "They're definitely from the school, Michael."
"Michael Fox," the boy said, introducing himself to the newcomers and sticking out his hand. Ben stepped forward and shook it.
"Benjamin Grey. Did you all go to the same school as us, then?"
"Yes. We were all raised by the kind and generous Madam Hart." That drew laughter from everyone. "Are Mrs. Stocking and Mr. Bradley still there?"
Ben nodded.
"That's good. Good for the kids who are still there. They were the only two who really cared about any of us when we were there."
"They still are," Elisa said.
"We've met up with others from different schools and they're all pretty much the same. If there's one or two adults there who care about you, you're lucky. They keep you until you're twelve, then kick you out because it's illegal to kill you outright." He grunted. "We all thought we were as good as dead by the day after the bus dumped us off. There was a flood. This tame little river we're standing in? We camped by it the first night. We were all sleeping when it started raining and the river rose fast. A few of us were washed away and drowned."
Elisa covered her mouth with her hands. Several other people exchanged grim looks.
"You survived, though," Jimmy said.
"We did. We figured out how to stay safe and survive and along the way, helped others survive too. By the way, this is Jen." He gestured toward a girl who looked his age. She had laughing blue eyes and an engaging smile under the freckles that dotted the bridge of her nose.
Michael put his arm around her shoulders as she said, "Hi."
Another boy stepped from behind Ron's back. He was almost a head taller than Michael, with long blond hair that was gathered in a ponytail.
"Andy Steel," he said, shaking hands. Ben thought the name was apt, as his handshake felt like iron. He wore a T-shirt with torn-off sleeves, and the exposed muscles of his shoulders and arms rippled under his skin. The other girl in the group came and stood by his side. She looked different from Jen, with her olive skin, long black braid, and liquid dark eyes.
"Edeline," she said, nodding. Her smile was sweet and shy.
"And you already know Ron," concluded Michael. "He's young enough to recognize you, of course. We're not. We were chucked out here when you must have been in second or third grade. Ron met us later." He grinned, clapped the younger boy on his shoulder. "He got lucky."
Ron's smile faded. "Yeah, I did. I had an argument with my classmates. I said we should follow the river and go west. They wanted to go south, where they thought it would be warmer and pleasanter. But I'm a stubborn type, at least when I'm pretty sure I'm right, and I was pretty sure we should stick close to where we have water. I said I'm not going anywhere and they left."
Tom was incredulous. "You just stayed out here on your own?"
"I didn't exactly mean to. It's just that, as we were making camp for the night and I climbed into my sleeping bag, I grunted at them all that I wasn't budging from here, not going south into who knows where with the shitty little useless map we were given. I told them I'm staying right here by the river, even if I have to stay alone. And when I woke up, they were gone."
"So they took you at your word?" asked Lauren, her eyes wide.
Ron shrugged. "Must have. And most likely a few of the others wanted to be rid of me."
"And who could blame them?" Michael said with a lopsided grin.
"They just left you stranded here, alone?" Elisa shook her head in indignant disbelief. "That was…evil."
"Well, yeah, it was pretty bad at first, I thought I was a goner. For the first half day, I acted like an idiot, running around in circles and bawling like a baby for them to come back instead of going to look for them. I tried going south later, but I had nothing to carry water in except the one little bottle, and there was no water to the south, and it didn't rain. My mouth felt like sand so I had to go back. Then I had no choice but to go on with my original plan and follow the river west. Luckily for me, I ran into Michael and some of the others before my supplies ran out."
"And what about your classmates?" asked Ben. "Did you meet any of them again?"
"No. I hope they're still alive out there somewhere, but I have no way of knowing. We roam a pretty wide area in different seasons, but we never came across even a hint of them."
"The country is big," Jen said.
Michael agreed and looked to Ben. "So what are your plans now?"
"We're just, you know, trying to keep our heads above water."
"Of course. We all are, aren't we? I'll tell you what, why don't you join us? It's easier when people band together. We live to the west, in the City. If you go with us, you'll be able to meet the others in two days."
"You live in a City?" asked Tom. "I thought all the cities were abandoned after the War."
"They were. Most of it's crumbling, but it's still possible to find shelter in some areas. There are the supplies, too. Clothes, shoes, and everything you can't find in the wild. We took over a building and fitted it up pretty well, I think. There's plenty of room, too. So what do you say? Will you join the Eagles?"
"The Eagles?" repeated Ben.
"That's what we call ourselves," explained Jen. "The Grey Eagles."
Ben's thoughts whizzed at lightning-speed. Michael watched him with a smile, confident of his answer. Around him and behind his back, he could hear his classmates murmuring approval. The offer's definitely a good one. What could be better than being under the guidance and protection of older, more experienced people who already survived for a few years? Yet the group is under Michael's leadership. Benjamin was not sure how he felt about that, but the name of the group tipped the scale in its favor, though. The Grey Eagles. It sounds good.
Benjamin took Michael's outstretched hand. "We'll be happy to join you."
Everyone felt more cheerful from that point on. They were not alone anymore. They knew where they were going, and they would be sure of a warm welcome, shelter, and food. Ben walked alongside Michael.
"Are there other groups?"
"Yes. Most prefer to call themselves tribes, though. There are several throughout the city and in its surroundings. We run into each other from time to time, and mostly we get along fine."
"Mostly?" Ben's eyebrows arched.
For a moment, Michael seemed uncomfortable. "You know how it is. There are all kinds of people."
Ben decided to drop the matter for the time being. At one point, Elisa drew him aside and nodded toward Edeline, who walked hand in hand with Andy.
"Have you noticed?" she whispered.
"Noticed? Noticed what?"
"She's pregnant," Elisa hissed.
Ben had to look carefully to notice what was so obvious to her. Sure enough, the front of Edeline's tunic was stretched tight across her belly, which definitely bulged more than was normal for a girl of her age and build. Nobody else seemed to be staring, though, so he quickly averted his eyes.
Until now, he had few opportunities to see pregnant women. Their excursions outside the school were few and far between, and as for the school itself, none of the students were older than twelve. Still, girls and boys were strictly separated from about the age of ten, and all signs and instances of attraction between the sexes were strongly discouraged. If a boy and a girl held hands, the consequence was a highly unpleasant session in Madam Hart's office. An innocent kiss stolen in a private moment meant going without supper that day if discovered.
Despite this sometimes confusing strictness, the children never received any instruction or information about their bodies and why boys and girls were separated. Had they been older, they might have wondere
d, but even if they had, the orphanages were not equipped to handle the issue. Along with routine vaccinations, all the girls received injections that delayed the onset of puberty, to make sure none would get their period before being sent away. The school never even bothered to let them know what was being done.
Some of the more informed girls did begin to wonder, and Elisa even went as far as to ask Mrs. Stocking, who only smiled sadly and assured her it "would come in time", though she never mentioned it would be after the girls left school and the effect of the injections wore off. Privately, far from the prying eyes of Madam Hart, she provided the girls with old, faded leaflets instructing them on what to do when their period finally did come.
What happened then, of course, was none of the school's business. By then they were neither the system's responsibility, nor its burden.
As far detached as the children were from regular society and its norms, Benjamin understood that Edeline was very young to be pregnant. She was seventeen, perhaps eighteen. Yet she walked and smiled as if she had no care in the world, and nobody around her acted as if they saw anything unnatural in that.
They made camp early that night and after a long day of hiking, most were asleep soon after dinner.
Ben woke early. Thoughts and questions about their future and their new companions raced through his head until, in the quiet pre-dawn light, he saw Michael get up, quick and graceful, like a young cat. He watched him rummage in his backpack, which looked very much like his own though more tattered, until he withdrew what was undoubtedly a gun. Heart beating faster, Ben raised himself on his elbow.
Michael noticed his stare. "Beautiful, isn't it?" he whispered, grinning, as he folded out the stock. "It's an old Ruger 10/22. The best kind for hunting. And it fits in my backpack. They're rare, though."
"Where did you get it?"
Michael noticed Ben's discomfort, but gave no sign. "The City. Nearly blew my own head off while I was learning to use it properly, but it's worth its weight in gold."
"How did you learn?"
"Books from the library and a lot of practice."
"Are you going to hunt?" Ben rose. "Can I come with you?"
They set off toward the woods that stretched along the riverbank. It was quiet and peaceful. Birds were just beginning to wake up. Michael seemed to glide between the trees that appeared grey in the scarce light while Ben followed as quietly as he could until he stopped, listening.
"There," he whispered, pointing.
Ben neither saw nor heard anything out of the ordinary, but Michael lifted the rifle to his shoulder. A second later, a sharp report filled the air and a fat, heavy bird tumbled down. They hurried over and saw a handsome wild turkey thrashing about.
"Must have hit his spine," Michael murmured as he hastened to end its pain by wringing its neck. He straightened up, smiled triumphantly, and held the bird by its feet.
"Good one, huh? He'll make a nice breakfast."
Ben was mesmerized by the abrupt transition from life to death. This was very different from fishing or prying shells apart. Then he realized how much he missed meat and his mouth began to water.
Back at the camp, they were greeted by their friends. Jen took the bird and began plucking it with expert movements. Soon, the turkey was turning on a spit above a hot little fire. It was not enough to satisfy the hunger of fifteen people, but the fragrant roast meat made a welcome addition to their meal.
They caught sight of the City on the afternoon of the second day. At first, it just seemed like any Urban Island within the Boundary – a grey, tightly packed, rather unsightly mass of buildings encompassing countless people. But as they approached, the new outcasts realized that this City was quite unlike the place where they spent their young lives.
On the outskirts of the Urban Island where they grew up, they could always hear the great, monotonous hum of the city, the movement of cars, trains, buses, and hundreds of thousands of people. It was louder during the day, quieter by night, but the background noise was always there. Here they heard nothing. The City was silent.
As they approached, they saw the legacy of the War – half-ruined buildings with gaping black holes instead of windows, ravaged roads, yards and streets strewn with rubble and overgrown with weeds. The appearance was eerie, ghost-like, even when they passed by buildings which remained relatively intact.
"It doesn't look like a very cheerful place," Ben said.
Michael nodded. "I see what you mean, but it does grow on you, especially when you get to all the lovely stuff you can't find anywhere else. We all love expeditions into the wild, especially in the spring and summer when the weather is good and there's fish and game and fruit. But in winter, these glum-looking walls protect us from wind and snow, and the City gives us everything that was here before the War."
Their footsteps echoed along the endless empty streets. A fat grey rat ran across the pavement, disappearing in a black crack in a wall.
"We're almost home," said Jen, sounding more cheerful than any of them felt. Clouds had moved in and it began to drizzle.
Ten minutes later, they approached an almost-intact building that looked like a large warehouse. As they neared the wide steel door with remnants of red paint that blocked the entrance, they heard voices, along with a peaceful clatter like that of home utensils.
Michael raised a hand, knocked on it several times, and called "It's me!"
A jumble of excitement could be heard from inside. "I knew they'd be back soon!" someone said as footsteps got closer and closer to the door until it swung inward, giving the newcomers their first look at the abode of the Grey Eagles.
Like any warehouse, the place was a great, cavernous space, but some parts of it were divided from the main hall and made into private nooks through the use of folding screens, curtains, hanging rugs, and other improvised partitions. Ten people were gathered in the large communal space, where a girl in her late teens stirred an enormous pot simmering over a gas burner. The boy who opened the door was short and pudgy and sported a good-natured grin. He beamed at Michael and his companions, and then frowned in puzzlement when he noticed the pack of twelve-year-olds.
"Who are they?"
"Little eaglets," Michael said. "Just chucked out here. They were lucky enough to meet us out east, near our favorite fishing spot."
"Brilliant," said the girl who was in charge of the cooking. She walked away from the pot, wiping her hands on her apron. "We have enough room for fifty people in this place, and I've just been saying how much we could improve it if we had some extra hands. Welcome!"
As she smiled at the new Eagles, a little boy who had been quietly playing in a corner toddled over to her and grabbed her pant leg. She picked him up and wiped a streak of dirt from his grubby little face.
"I'm hungry, mama," whined the boy loud enough to startle a few of the newcomers as he attempted to grab her hair. She laughed and put him down.
"You're always hungry. Dinner is almost ready." She looked at Michael "It would have been ready by now if Jill had settled down for her nap sooner. I think we'll have enough for everyone, though I didn't count on so many people."
"Don't worry," Michael told her. "We still have some things in our bags, and so do they."
"Is he…is he yours?" asked Elisa, her wide eyes looking from the toddler to the girl.
"Sure. He was born two years ago, when I just turned fifteen. And there's also Jill. She's sleeping right now but I think she'll wake soon. She was born two months ago."
"Here?" said Lauren in a hushed voice. She appeared shocked which seemed to amuse the older girl.
"Of course here, in the little place Mac made for us." She pointed toward one of the walled-off corners. "I'm Gabby, by the way."
"Where is Mac anyway?" asked Michael, shrugging off his wet raincoat.
"He's out looking through some of the other warehouses," Gabby said, trying to peel her son off her leg. "He wanted to find something that'd help him fix the roof. It's leaking agai
n, and right over our space. Never mind, though. If anyone can fix that roof, Mac will."
"Mac is Gabby's man," Michael explained. "He's a real handyman. We're really lucky to have him."
Soon, everyone was settled in the common area and Gabby started ladling out the thick, steaming stew. It had simmered for so long that not all of its ingredients were recognizable, but its rich, savory smell made everyone's mouth water. Best of all, there were thick chunks of meat inside. The pot was large and nearly full to the brim, so even the newcomers got generous portions.
Mac arrived a short while later, thoroughly wet but looking pleased with himself. He was hauling a large package which he plunked in a corner.
"Rubber tiles," he announced. "There are more where I found these. I'll start with our section and go on to cover the entire roof. It will solve the problem once and for all." Only then did he notice the group was larger than usual, and squinted at the new people. "Who do we have here, Michael?" he asked as he sat and took the bowl of stew Gabby passed to him. The little boy greeted him with a gleeful cry and clambered onto his lap.
"They just got kicked out from the orphanage," said Ron.
Michael, whose mouth was full, nodded, and after swallowing said, "They've joined us."
"What? All of them?" Mac's eyebrows traveled toward his hairline. He was tall and thin, twenty years old, with piercing blue eyes and bushy light-brown hair which he pulled back in a ponytail. He bounced his son up and down on his knee, to the boy's delight.
"Of course," said Michael. "Didn't you always say this place was too darn big for us? Well, now it isn't."
"Eat your stew before it gets cold, Mac," said Gabby. "Come here, Darren, let daddy eat in peace." As she picked up the toddler, a cry filled the building. "Oh, Jill's awake," she said, putting the boy down and rushing to her baby.
Darren toddled back to his father, who did not seem to mind being harassed by little hands as he ate. He hoisted his son back onto his lap before he grinned and said, "So. These are your first steps out here in the big wide world?"
"Yes," said Ben. "We haven't been out long."