by P. S. Lurie
The city astounds me as we walk through, distracting my thoughts from how I ended up in Nathaniel’s clutches. Everything is clean and in full working order, grandiose even if overshadowed by the Fence and the Utopia, and there’s no chill in the air at this altitude compared to what we felt lower down in the Middlelands. It shouldn’t be warmer here but it is as though the city is heated or somehow designed so as to not allow for wind tunnels. I can’t believe this will all be drowned out and left to turn to detritus in a matter of hours. The Lowerlanders and Middlelanders fought a losing battle to hold back the sea, clinging onto every morsel of land they could, whereas the Upperlands will allow itself to be wiped out in one hit.
A new piece of my past returns or, rather, it’s the lack of memory that I am aware of, as I now know that the last time I was outside of Nathaniel’s apartment was a whole year ago when he took me through the city to his home instead of the prison. Doctors’ appointments were always on call in the apartment rather than elsewhere and Nathaniel did all the chores such as shopping. Have I really been inside for a year? I think of the woman at my door that had shared the barracks with my mother and was arrested alongside her and Theia. Why did they not find me until now?
Nathaniel has taken my freedom, my family, my mind and my body from me. I follow in his trail as he storms ahead, excited to marry me, without a care in the world. I could run and escape from him but this dress wouldn’t let me get far before he caught up to me. Anyway, he deserves to be punished and I can’t do what I want to him out in the open.
We enter his building and ride the elevator up to our floor. All this electricity running freely. I wonder how we will have enough on the Utopia to keep living in this manner if the world will be flooded but I’m sure the Upperlanders have figured this out. They managed to block us from hearing or seeing the quality of life they had whilst we wasted away in the Middlelands, so I’m sure they’ll have the capacity to design technology that will continue to supply us with a lifeline of power.
As we reach the door, I remember the woman who warned me that my mother was alive this morning. She must have been a Middlelander who was then promoted but I don’t recognise her except for from this morning. I guess she wanted to find me but had no idea what Nathaniel was doing to me; she must have been as confused by our conversation as I was but for different reasons. Does that mean my mother has been looking for me all this time? She has no idea I’m alive.
Nathaniel unlocks the door but doesn’t enter. He kisses me and holds the moment, forcing his tongue into my mouth. I resist but then remember what I need to do for self-preservation: I kiss him back.
“You realise this will be the last time we ever come here.”
I give him a weak, hopeful smile, and enter the apartment. With my face hidden from view my expression drops. Nathaniel’s right that he’ll never come here again but what he doesn’t realise is that it’s because he won’t be leaving.
Ruskin
It’s not long after the announcement ends, and I’m still immobile in disbelief, when I hear the door unbolt and I know that I could walk out into the corridor and search for Jack. But then I also know that anyone else could roam the halls and kill me, so I hold firm as I work out what to do next. I stare at the body that was already in my cell and wonder what difference there was between him giving up and me fighting. I guess it’s Jack; maybe this boy no longer had a purpose to carry on. Or if he had survived the cull in the Middlelands, then maybe he had lost any conviction to kill more just so that he could survive. Or maybe he couldn’t live with any more guilt. I’ll never know.
I hope that Jack is alive and hasn’t given up on me, and I push the thought that he’s dead out of my mind. I hope he doesn’t know about his mother.
First, I need to work out where he might be in this building; if I do try and find him then I want to have a direction in mind rather than walking aimlessly and stumbling into trouble. There was nothing unusual about our cell compared to this one but the outside world is a clue. I move over to the raised hole in the wall, lift myself up on tiptoes and grab two of the bars. To my surprise, they come loose and I fall backwards onto the floor.
I stay on my back, puzzling at what just happened and what I hold in my hands. The bars were propped in place but someone has hacked away over time and cut them loose. Jack and I spent days trying to cut into them but we got nowhere so whoever did this either had more perseverance or a sharper tool.
The hole in the window, even with the two bars missing, isn’t large but I stand up, push the other bed to the wall and climb on top. None of the outer bars budges. I can get my arms through the gap, or my head, but not both. Even with my thin frame I would get stuck. I look outside, at the world around me, a far clearer view than Jack and I had now that I can stretch past the edge.
The sun is almost overhead but slightly off to the left. This actually tells me a lot because it’s a similar position that Jack and I could see from our cell, so I figure rightly or wrongly that this room is on the same side of the building as to where I’ve spent the past year.
I look down. I’m a good four or five floors from ground level, which is too far to jump if I could fit through. There is nothing in the distance except fields and mountain as the prison is on the outskirts of the city and these windows look out from the back. There seems to be no wall or security around us, so if I do find a route out there’s nothing but people standing in my way. “Nothing but people,” I say out loud, an understatement given the circumstances I’m in. Almost at head height is a single tree in the foreground. Jack and I could just about see the branches, confirming my earlier suspicions of where I’m located, but now I know we were one floor up, maybe two.
“Jack,” I call out, breaking my silence, but my voice is lost in the void and there is no reply.
At least I have some idea of where to head. And actually I’m in a good position because I have weapons. I jump off the bed and move to the door but stop myself from leaving.
“This is who I am?” I say to myself. Someone ready to attack others. I’m not sure I’d be ready to use the bars on anyone else who deserves to be here as little as I do, even in self defence. Then something else occurs to me: why didn’t the boy end his life with one of these iron bars? The only explanation is that he too was new to this room as I was and hadn’t explored so he had no idea they were loose. I feel a lump in my throat as I consider that had I been placed in here moments earlier I may have been able to prevent him from hurting himself. Or would he have tried to kill me after the announcement?
I don’t have time to grieve or be scared about the prospect of fighting him because the door flings open and someone bursts in.
Theia
My face stings but no more punches come. I stare at Harriet who rubs her fist, taking some of the brunt of the force. I’m too dumbfounded to move away from her but she doesn’t strike again.
I don’t blame her for being angry towards me. Look where she is compared to how she woke up this morning and where she should have been sleeping tonight. She did nothing wrong except for being allocated to the wrong room in the barracks and being loyal to me over the Upperlanders.
“I’m sorry.”
“Four lives for one. Surely you could’ve figured out it was a bad deal.”
“I didn’t think he’d give her up.”
“This is confusing,” the third girl says. “Can I have a catch up?”
“She smuggled her baby sister in.” What I did doesn’t concern the girl but saying it out loud clearly gives Harriet justification for wanting to attack me. “Wow,” Harriet says next before anyone else responds.
“What?” the girl asks giddily, enjoying the scene play out, but I know exactly what Harriet means.
“It feels good to say it out loud, doesn’t it?” It’s how I felt this morning at the hospital with Dr Jefferson because the relief of sharing this secret is like coming up for air after being forced underwater until your face turns blue. Then I shake
my head in disbelief at my memory of the hospital being this morning. Only this morning. I check my watch and the announcement that was barely a minute ago confirms just how much has gone wrong in such a short time.
It is still this morning.
Serving no purpose, my mind goes to Kate, who must be packing. I wonder whether she’s giving me a second thought. She probably feels betrayed. Or annoyed I’m not there to sort out Cassie and help her fill suitcases.
“I have to say, I’m happy with my odds,” the girl says to me and Harriet as she swings her legs out and jumps off the bed. She takes both of us in. “Whoever I side with gives me two against one. Then it’s one against one.” She puts on an exaggerated glum face. “I do like both of you though.”
She takes one big stride towards us but I am unsure what she’s decided.
Selene
I feign tiredness when Nathaniel suggests we both pack our belongings in the bedroom together before moving through the rest of the apartment. I need to get away from him to prepare my next move and being in the same room won’t help, but he’s determined we stick side by side. “Today is too much for me,” I say, stifling a fake yawn.
“Why don’t you lie on the bed and I’ll do the clothes?”
“No, I want to help. That was the first time out in forever and it was a lot more than I was expecting. I mean, look at me.”
He props me down on the end of the bed and takes in my appearance as a bride. “I’m such a fool,” he says and bends down to one knee in front of me. “Selene Keele, will you marry me today?”
Keele? That’s not my family name. This is not my life. This can’t be happening. It’s a fake romance, which I have to perpetuate for now. My heart beats fast but not for the same reasons they should at a proposal. “Of course I will. We’re running out of time to board.”
He kisses me. “Plenty of time. Sorry I don’t have a ring but we’ll figure that out later.”
“Why don’t I bundle up the photographs?” I ask in order to change the conversation. When I walked through the streets of the Middlelands last year I peered into peoples’ houses. Anyone that was lucky to have pictures in frames had taken them down, one of the few treasures to bring here. Because of the lack of access, no one had any recent photographs but at least, unlike Nathaniel and me, those they did have were genuine.
“You’re in such a rush, princess.”
“I guess I’m excited to leave. But sad too. I wish I had some of my family. To be at my wedding, I mean. I wish I remembered what they looked like.” I don’t know why I’m saying anything provocative but I guess I’m angry that my mother is alive despite Nathaniel telling me I’m an orphan. Considering my childhood, I don’t even think I’d want my mother near me in any other circumstance but I can’t think about her abusive disposition right now. She looked for me, and that is enough for now. Is there anyone else I trust? I don’t know the answer to that but I definitely don’t trust Nathaniel.
“I’m sure President Callister will be in attendance if we ask. I know that’s not the same but it’s exciting, right?”
“I need some water.” I leave the room without waiting for Nathaniel to stop me, go past the lounge and enter the kitchen. I stand over the sink to compose myself.
My mind races. Why is Nathaniel doing this to me? Why didn’t he take me to the prison? How did he manage to destroy my mind? Not understanding his motive scares me more than anything. I shake out of feeling sorry for myself and open the middle drawer in the cupboard to the side of the sink. I take a bread knife out and grip the handle.
I imagine how much force I’d need to plunge it into Nathaniel’s...
His arms envelop me from behind and I feel his breath on my neck. He leans into my ear, as he gently wrestles the knife from my hand and places it on the counter. “What are you doing?”
“I thought I’d start packing up the kitchen.” The lie comes to me easily but my voice doesn’t carry it through.
“I said we have plenty of time. Come and choose your clothes. I figure we don’t have to take everything.”
He leads me back into the bedroom, within his sight, and I can’t shake the feeling that he suspects I know the truth; he’s never had this keen an eye over me before.
In the time I was in the kitchen, Nathaniel has opened up two suitcases on the bed and started placing clothes into them. He mutters something about folding them and finding space. It hadn’t even occurred to me that, even with vehicles to hire, we may have to make a few journeys. I hadn’t considered the logistics. Again, it makes me wonder why this move is happening so quickly. What does President Callister know that we don’t? Why is no one questioning it? Loyalty, I guess. Gratitude, too.
“Selene,” Nathaniel says, as he closes one of the cases. “Sorry I got excited about the dress and the detour. I haven’t had a chance to ask you yet what you thought about the announcement?”
“It’s different to how it looks on television. Louder. Busier.”
“And the executions?”
He’s testing me. I have to tread carefully through this conversation. I don’t want to make eye contact with him so I keep my head down. I have to pretend I’m a subservient Upperlander, so what’s the correct answer? It’s obvious: “They were ungrateful and disloyal. They didn’t deserve to come with us to the Utopia.” I hate that this has previously been my mindset but I know that it was the medication talking so I can’t blame myself for it.
“And the girl and the others that were taken off to prison?”
My pulse races. I know where this is going.
“The same.”
“Selene.” I concede and look up, feeling his eyes on me. “Even the older woman with her? And the woman who came to our door this morning?”
I’m found out. So Nathaniel saw them too. He recognised my mother’s similarity to me, and the woman from this morning. My advantage has gone. We’re both out of time.
I grab the nearest thing to me, the suitcase, as he lurches for it too but I beat him to it. I don’t even feel its weight as I swing it at him. It must be heavy as it slams into his chest and sends him stumbling into the wardrobe. Considering how frail I felt this morning this must have caught him off-guard.
“That... was... unnecessary,” he manages to say in a daze but I know I have hardly winded him.
I needed the element of surprise on my side and now it is just me versus him. A thought comes into my head: I’ve killed before. I’m prepared to do this. Only one of us will survive the next few moments.
Ruskin
A stocky man with silver-speckled dark hair, much older than me, bursts through the door, out of breath. He has blood on his clothes and face but I don’t know if it’s his or someone else’s. As of barely minutes ago, having someone else’s blood on him is not only allowed in the eyes of the Upperlanders but very much encouraged.
“So many kids,” he says, as he takes in my appearance. Then I see his eyes widen and I recognise fear. I don’t know why he doesn’t advance because he could easily overpower me until I presume that I scare him. Why? Of course: whilst he is unarmed I am holding two iron bars in my hands. He doesn’t know my strength or whether I’d be willing to take him on but, for argument’s sake, if I were then it wouldn’t be a fair fight for him.
I use this in my favour and know that I have one more deterrent. I move to the side, revealing the dead boy on the bed. It’s nothing to do with me but my opponent doesn’t need to know that.
“Screw this,” he says, without a delay. “Good luck kid.”
He turns and bolts out of the door.
Only then do I exhale. I feel the weight of the bars. They’re solid. Heavy. In a prison where there is little but bare-knuckled determination, I’ve been given quite an advantage. Still, I know that not every encounter is going to fall in my favour. Besides, there can be ten survivors so others may team up and then I’ll definitely stand no chance.
I silently thank the dead boy and whoever slaved away to eventua
lly give me the bars.
I want to go after Jack but I need to figure out whether moving or staying put for now is the best plan. The door is ajar and I hear faint screams, which solidifies my decision. I have a few hours before the prison is unlocked and have to hope that if Jack is still alive he doesn’t do anything rash and no one bothers him.
“I will come for you,” I say, as I push the door shut. “Don’t give up on me yet.”
Theia
We watch as the girl ignores us, reveals a lengthy strip of bed linen from her pocket and ties it from one of the bed’s legs to the door handle in such a way as to trap us all inside. “We don’t need any more visitors until I decide what to do. My name’s Maddie, but my friends,” she says, as she sweeps her hand around the room, “call me Mad.”
I’m not sure I’d want to be around her long enough to call her anything, let alone Mad.
“So, here’s a plan,” she continues. “There are three of us so I don’t need to worry about you taking my spot just yet since ten of us can sail off into the sunset together. I’ve decided to keep you around a while longer. You’re fun.” Mad looks at me. “I like your mouth.” She turns to Harriet. “Keep punching like that and you can stay too. But are you going to make up for now?”
“Harriet, I’m sorry.”
My former roommate shakes her head. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“None of us should be here but you have to understand. The fever wouldn’t let go of Leda. I had to give her to Doctor Jefferson.”