Seven dead, adult wolves dangled from a wire strung between two trees. I gagged, and the Survivors bent their heads in shame. We must have been close. Only the Superiors could be this cruel and disrespectful to life outside their walls.
We probably should have left it alone, but I was glad we cut them down. If we could, we’d have buried them, but there was no time.
“You know, I read that farmers used to do this to protect their livestock, hang predators’ bodies over the fence as a warning. But what are they protecting here?” Pelo questioned.
“Only themselves,” I muttered as we walked into the shadow of the first wind turbine.
My feet faltered, soon we would be separating. Pelo seemed to sense my trepidation. He smoothed the hair from my face. “You don’t have to do this, Rosa. I could go in your place.”
I shook my head. “They need you in Pau. I don’t know it like you do. I never really saw the outer rings.”
“Could I forbid you to go?” He raised his eyebrows, eyes not hopeful because he knew the answer.
“This is just the way it has to be, Dad,” I said determinedly, saying the word on purpose, with purpose.
I shrugged and kicked the dirt in front of me. The great arms of wind turbines cut moving shadows across our path. The others were waiting. The shadows were like the hands of a clock, counting down each step to the plan, each possible way it could go wrong. We were all hinged off each other. I stripped a branch of its leaves and scrunched them in my hand. It had to work.
Time to move.
We walked slower and more quietly, each shadow the tip of an hour, warning us we were nearly there.
The earth turned cooler. The hum grew louder as the windmills encompassed us and barred us in. The looming silhouette of the outer wall of the Superiors’ compound stood intimidating us with its plainness. Joseph and I took a step forward. The others were still. I turned and whispered “Goodbye,” squeezing their hands and kissing their cheeks.
Rash shoved his hands in his pockets. “Whatever, Soar. I’ll see you soon,” he said, turning away from me.
Pelo gave me a look of devastation, of pride and fear. He didn’t speak, just followed Rash, stringing his arm over Rash’s shoulders as they walked away. I laughed as Rash dipped and wiggled out of the embrace.
Matthew’s hand lingered. “Be careful,” he said, knowing it was inadequate, but what else could he say?
Being careful would be to turn around and walk away from this. We gave them our handhelds. I took one last look at Orry’s location. It was so far from here. I sighed in relief and aching.
We stepped forward, disconnecting from our companions. Our toes tipped the haunting, anti-gleam of the straight-edged line of the Wall’s shadow. We stepped over it and into greyness.
The others melted into the trees. The barest rustle the only evidence there had ever been more than two of us, the great shushing of wind turbines absorbing their footsteps. They would wait for us at the meeting point for three days. If we failed to get there in time, they were going to carry out the less sophisticated, second part of our plan—blow up the targets set out by the Spiders. Factories, research centers, and other places whose destruction would cripple the Superiors’ operations. Then, as a parting gift, they would blow a hole in the outer walls. I prayed I would be there to see it and see them again.
I cursed as we moved tentatively away from them. It was like having my towel ripped from me after I’d stepped out of the shower. My security, my safety, gone.
*****
It had seemed like a good idea but, standing next to Joseph, our hearts drumming and shaking the ground like an earthquake, I was starting to waver. I stomped my foot and pushed my doubts into the ground. This was the right thing to do. It was the only thing we could do.
We removed our coats and jumpers, leaving them in a green pile on the sodden ground. Our white shirts, flapped hollowly over our frightened bodies. We wore our flags of surrender.
Joseph’s hand found my waist, and he pulled me into a rushed, tight embrace. His voice shook a little as he said, “I love you.”
I stood on my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his, letting that calm, gold sea lap and wash over me for one more second before we threw ourselves into the flames. His mouth crushed mine, and the sea erupted into choppy, fling-you-from-your-boat kind of waters. I pulled back for breath and grinned at him through the sharp, blue afternoon. His hands still gripped my waist, his strong fingers digging into my hipbones.
I dropped my eyes to the smudgy ground, feeling words pushing their way up from deep inside my rattling chest. “Joseph, I need to say something to you before…” I couldn’t quite finish. I didn’t know what came after before.
He curled a strong finger under my chin and lifted my face to his. “What is it?” he asked, his eyes blinking slowly, revealing that glow, that forest of green and gold.
I bit my lip and mumbled, “Thank you.”
He raised his eyebrows and searched my eyes, waiting for the rest. I thought about all the times he had lifted me up, saved me, loved me. And the times when I crossed my arms over my body and kept him out. He never gave up. I couldn’t say I regretted how it happened; it was part of what made us strong now. I had to learn how to trust him. He had to learn to be patient with me. But now I felt like I was meeting him at the same level. I placed my hand on his broad chest and let his warmth sink into to me. I sighed softly, letting the scared, pregnant teenager separate from my shadow and blow away. “Thank you for loving me when I didn’t deserve it.”
He dipped his chin so our noses were almost touching, deep breaths pulsing out from his body. “Rosa, not that you always made it easy, but you need to know something. You,” he pointed one strong finger at my heart and tapped it on the hard bone of my sternum once, “were never undeserving of love.” He kissed me gently on the forehead, sliding his hands down my arms and creating a shiver.
I tried unsuccessfully to squeeze the tears back in. “Ok.” I smiled grimly, no teeth, just my lips pressed together because the moment couldn’t last, even though I wanted it to. “You ready?” I asked, half-hoping he’d say, ‘Nah forget it, let’s go home to Orry.’
He chuckled softly. “Nope, but we promised, right?”
We held hands and made our way to the closest checkpoint, rounding the ever-curving wall.
*****
By the time we reached the first surveillance point, the sun was casting horizontal lines of light over the wall. I shook my head. Even with the beginning of the brilliant golds and pinks of sunset, it still looked like it was made of windowsill dust and crushed bones.
Joseph put his hand to his brow and scanned the top of the wall.
“I don’t see anyone, do you?”
My eyes tracked the top of the wall, searching for the top of a hat, a head, but there was nothing. I bent down to scoop up some rocks to throw over and get someone’s attention. Joseph stood, legs parted, staring up at the sky. I rose next to him and turned to give him a handful.
Like a spot of blood, a pre-emptive color of what was to come, a bright red light wobbled in the center of Joseph’s chest. He took a deep breath in, still scanning, not noticing the infrared kill mark.
I slid gently in front of him and put my hands in the air. I could almost feel the red light burning a hole in my forehead. Joseph had no time to react, but he carefully raised his hands too.
“Don’t shoot!” I shouted to the black gun poking over the top of the wall. It slowly rose, and the hands and face attached to it revealed themselves. A red-haired, freckled face with makeup lazily smeared over the cheeks appeared, his blue eyes frightened and hesitant, but his finger ready to pull the trigger.
“We represent the Survivors, and we have a message for Superior Este,” Joseph said loudly, trying to sound confident but coming off a little desperate.
The boy with the gun pulled back a little. I could see him weighing up whether to trust Joseph’s words or not. He thought about it, and t
hen quickly re-trained the red light on my chest. The light wriggling and wobbling like a firefly scared to be bottled. I could feel Joseph stiffen behind me. His body wanted to react and get me out of danger. Then we’d both be dead.
I grabbed his wrists behind me, digging my nails in, forcing him to stay still. I found the young man’s eyes and stared into them. “We know why the babies are getting sick,” I shouted, watching my words sail up and slap the young soldier in the face.
His eyebrows moved down, framing his eyes like apostrophes. “Don’t move,” his quivering voice demanded. He turned his head and shouted down towards someone on the ground inside. “We need retrieval near scorch spot nine.”
Joseph took a step sideways and the boy’s eyes flicked up, a ping sounding out as hot metal whizzed through the air and landed deep in the ground at our feet. “I said, don’t move!” he screamed, his voice borderline hysterical.
We both nodded and stayed frozen in the mud, our eyes dancing frantically in our heads.
*****
Salim’s description of wide, sweeping gates with foreboding sculptures climbing the spires didn’t exist anymore, at least not at this end of the circle. I expected we’d be going through the wall or, if we had to, we would have climbed over it. Not under. Salim never mentioned this. It must have been new. Or some of the information in that weird man’s head had come loose and fallen out of his ear like sand.
We were still frozen, the gun trained on my chest, as the ground to our left started to shift. Leaves rustled and fell inwards towards an ever-widening hole.
Five grubby faces popped up, and men clad in black and gold uniforms climbed out of the hole. They surrounded us, gripping our arms and jostling our bodies. “Don’t fight,” I whispered to Joseph through gritted teeth. His eyes were fierce, his body barely controlled. One of them shoved me towards the hole in the ground. I pitched forward into the dirt, landing hard on the heels of my hands and knees. Out of the corner of my vision, I could see a leg clad in black wind back like a cog in a clock to kick me
“Rosa!” Joseph yelled in warning, straining against the weight and muscle of three soldiers trying to hold him back.
I rolled to the side and the soldier kicked the air, losing his balance and falling on his butt.
I should have kept my mouth shut, but that brain-to-mouth connection broke long ago. My mouth blurted out a laugh before I could stop myself. The soldier sprung up and his hand was around my throat, squeezing. I breathed in and out as calmly as I could and tried not to kick him in the groin, which he’d left wide open. I stared up at his black coil of hair, noticing the spatter of grey and the coating of dirt. The colors reminded me of the monkeys, and I snorted, thinking they were better trained.
“Something funny, you Own Kind brat?” he snarled, his unnaturally blue eyes watering in irritation. I shook my head vehemently, rubbing the back of my head back and forth, deeper in the mud. He pushed my head violently into the dirt, which was thankfully soft, and then released my throat. He stared down at my shaking body in disgust, his eyes narrowed. “You know, your skin is the same color as the dirt. Get up before I lose you in it!” he spat, while the other soldiers laughed.
I scrambled up, shaking the mud from my hair. Joseph’s eyes were wild with alarm. I caught his gaze and whispered, “I’m ok,” as we were pushed down a ladder and into the ground.
*****
We were in a wormhole, a thick, wet, dirty hole only wide enough for two people to walk down at a time. My back was peppered with round bruises from being cattle-prodded with the point of a gun and my shirt was covered in mud. It smelled like the earth did under layers of dead leaves: rich, moldy, and damp.
Joseph was silent. We both were. We had told them we would only speak to Este. Right then, I would have rather been a worm, squiggling through the dirt with no other purpose other than to move forward and keep on wiggling. We were walking into a huge unknown, assuming the Superiors would be reasonable. We were counting on the others not to be discovered and hoping and praying Deshi was alive. My fingers wrapped around the fabric of my shirt and clenched in nervousness, as though gripping something, anything, would stop me from slipping down the flimsy ladder of hope. The current of all these unknowns was so strong, threatening to grasp us with frosty fingers and drag us away.
The ground underfoot abruptly changed from soft and spongy to hard, as our feet slapped against something firm and plastic. A light flickered on, and we found ourselves standing in front of shining metal doors.
One of the soldiers pushed a button with the end of his gun, unwilling to let go of it for even a second, giving me a sideways sneer as he did. The button lit up, and the doors glided open noiselessly.
“Basement One,” a creepy female voice uttered over our heads. My eyes slid towards the internal buttons as we stepped inside. G, B1, B2, B3. Cold pinched my shoulders. What was beneath us? I looked to Joseph, and his eyes showed the same amount of dread and confusion.
A pale finger pushed the ‘G’ button, and I sighed with relief.
The elevator shuddered, and the alien feeling of my stomach being left at B1 while the rest of me went upwards took over. I braced myself against the wall, glancing up at a poster of an All-Kind kid with a phone to her ear, with big, blue eyes and an unblinking, sinister expression. The slogan read, ‘What did you see? What did you hear? Report immediately.’ My God. I caught myself mid-eye roll and stopped.
The elevator came to a stop, and the doors opened with a ding. The silken voice overhead said, “Ground floor.” But all I could see was another metal door. This one was tin with a simple slide bolt, sunlight peeking around the edges.
One of the soldiers rattled the bolt, shoving his shoulder into the door while swearing, and lifted the door up so he could get it open.
The sun hit us like a helicopter searchlight, and we poured out and onto the pavement. I turned around in time to see the last soldier closing the door to a rickety, old shed, similar to the one I’d seen the guards playing cards in front of in Pau. I squinted at the rusty, pale green structure and shook my head.
My head twisted around, trying to take in as much as I could. So this was the Superiors’ compound. It was certainly more open, only the one exterior concrete wall. Small dwellings were squashed closely together. Servants and workers quarters, Salim had explained.
As if on cue, a rough-looking woman poked her head out the door, her clothes simple but clean. She caught my eye, raised her eyebrows in alarm, and quickly slammed the door.
Two years ago, I’d seen this place briefly from the air, and it had looked completely open. But now that I was inside it, I could see the divisions. My eyes stretched over the tightly packed homes and snippets of wire fence between the gaps as we were strong-armed down the street, the soldiers crowding around us like they didn’t want people to see. The one holding me squeezed my arm painfully when I craned my head over their gold-tipped shoulders to watch three people pushing a trolley full of cleaning supplies down the narrow street and chatting. It was like Ring Eight in size, but without the sad sight of baggy, boney old people shuffling around with no aim. I returned my gaze to the back of the soldier in front of me, when the one holding my arm shook me violently. “Eyes forward, Own Kind. You’re not on a tour.” I clenched my teeth to stop a remark flying out my mouth. This guy could be a comedian.
We were marched towards a gap between two houses, dark shadows causing me to shiver with cold in my thin, white t-shirt. Another slide bolt lock, this time with a padlock on it, was opened, and we were in a field. High corn waved, back and forth like shaking heads, on either side of narrow path. So high that it skimmed the top of Joseph’s head. This was like some bizarre dream. I reached out to graze my fingers over the swaying sheaths and felt a nasty bite when my fingers connected with metal. This was not on Salim’s maps.
One of the soldiers laughed. “Careful, it’s electrified.” I peered closer and noticed the fence, a few stalks deep into the field. I rubbed my
hand against my pant leg and sighed. What next?
We walked for half an hour, the setting sun glinting gold over the tips of the feathery hairs encasing the corn. My stomach growled when I caught the bright yellow kernels peeking out the top like teeth.
Joseph was behind me and every now and then, he’d bump into me, just so we could touch. We didn’t know when we would be able to touch again, so every bump felt like the electric shock I’d received earlier.
The soldiers were quiet and, with the eerie sound of the corn moving in the breeze and complete isolation and disorientation, it was hard to believe we were heading to the center of the Superiors’ compound. Which was maybe the point. Nothing seemed as I would have expected. It threw me.
We finally hit another gate and, as a soldier drew out a large ring of keys and started flipping through them. The overpowering smell of rotten fish wafted through the wire and up my nose. It was like someone had booby-trapped the gate with a thousand tins of anchovies, which had been sitting out in the sun for days.
I wiped my nose with my hand, trying to expel the smell from around my face. Joseph snorted in disgust. I turned to him, about to ask who’d been eating cat food, when I heard a sound I’d never heard before. A trumpeting roar. Loud and aggressive, sailing towards us over the edges of the red, ornate roofs that now grazed the top of the corn stalks.
Standing on my toes, I peered over the top of the soldiers’ shoulders, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever made the noise, but I couldn’t see. Joseph’s breath caught and his eyes widened, which only made me more impatient to get through. I tried not to push the soldier in front of me. Putting my hand to my throat reminded of their violence, where his fingernails had dug in around my collarbone. Despite the quiet, almost peaceful marching we had just done, we were prisoners and assumed criminals.
The Wounded (The Woodlands Series) Page 24