Renegade

by J. A. Souders

  He groans when I gently spread the cream on his back. More pus weeps from the wounds. Disgusting. I fight the urge to express my distaste aloud. It’s not becoming of a lady.

  “I answered your question. Now you get to answer mine,” he says as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. “I want to know more about you and you want to know about me. Fair trade.”

  I stop what I’m doing and glance up at him. “Why do you want to know more about me?” He only stares at me with an infuriating little grin. “What do you wish to know?” I finally ask when I realize he isn’t going to answer me until I answer him. It’s not that I want to tell him anything, but it seems to keep his mind off what I’m doing. If I play along, I will be able to get some of the answers I need to keep him alive.

  “You said you had training. What kind of training?”

  I decide to let the antiseptic on his back do its job while I work on his arm. It’s more important to fix that first, and then worry about the strange wounds. I relax when I see it’s only out of joint.

  I look into Gavin’s eye and can tell from the way it can’t quite focus on me that the poppy seeds are doing their job. Thank heavens for small blessings. “Your arm is out of joint. I’m going to pop it back in, but it’s going to hurt. A lot. I want you to try not to scream. I’m not sure if the Guards will hear it, but it is better if they don’t. Okay?”

  He nods and grits his teeth. Bracing myself, I tug as hard as I can and feel a pop as it slides back into place. He gives a whimper, but doesn’t scream, though sweat pops out on his forehead and he slumps a little.

  “All right?” I ask. He nods, but his pupil is wider than it was before. I wonder if I should be worried about blood loss. Not to mention shock from the pain and the infection I’m sure is in his blood. “I need more supplies. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  Brushing the dirt from my skirt, I stand and then wrinkle my nose. I’m in a state, aren’t I? A lady must not be seen as anything other than perfect. This is unacceptable.

  “You never answered my question.”

  I’m startled by his voice, and turn to look back down at him. He’s staring up at me again.

  For some reason I’m embarrassed of my answer, like he would look down on me for it. I don’t know why—it’s our most prestigious designation. A privilege. An honor. “I am being trained to be the Daughter of the People.”

  “What’s that?”

  “One question. One answer.”

  He smiles grimly. “I had a feeling you were sharp.” He pauses. “What do you want to know?” He throws my question back at me, and for some reason, I’m enjoying the banter.

  “Why are you really here? The emergency escapes are almost impossible to find and it’s more than two days’ walk from here to the Surface.” Or so Mother tells me.

  “Sharp,” Gavin mutters. He narrows his eyes and then shrugs as if it doesn’t really matter. “I’m here trying to see if this is where my people are.” He smiles when I open my mouth to ask another question. “My turn. What’s the Daughter of the People?”

  I stare over his shoulder. I don’t want to answer, but I feel that if I don’t, any of the tentative trust he has for me will disappear, and I have a feeling I’ll need it. I’ll need him. I just don’t know for what yet.

  “I’m being groomed to rule the city after Mother can no longer do so.” I look down at the ground. “To protect my Citizens from Surface Dwellers. At any cost.”

  Not looking at him, I wait for the Guards to release me from the room. I pause as I exit, looking straight ahead to the hallway. “I need more supplies for your back. I will return shortly.”

  * * *

  When I return from gathering the herbs, he is in the exact same position as he was when I left, only asleep. The Guards let me in and the door closes softly behind me. I make my way over to him.

  So I don’t disturb him, I try to be as quiet as possible. I’m a little disappointed we won’t talk, but there is no need for him to wake; he’ll be in considerably less pain if he stays asleep.

  A chill down my spine and a movement out of the corner of my eye alerts me to the fact that there is another person on the other side of the glass. When I turn around, I find myself being studied by an Enforcer.

  A shudder rips through my body before I can stop it as the young girl meets my eyes. The Guards stand at attention next to her, but they shift their weight from side to side as she talks to them, never once taking her eyes off me.

  I force myself to turn around and do what I came to do, but I have to close my eyes and take deep breaths.

  I’m doing nothing wrong. I’m doing nothing wrong. I’m doing nothing wrong.

  When I open my eyes, it surprises me to see Gavin watching me.

  He doesn’t seem bothered by the revelation I expressed before I left. Only mild curiosity shows in the tilt of his head and slant of his eyes before he too notices the Enforcer beyond the glass.

  “Why is that little girl looking at me like that?” he asks, his gaze moving back to mine.

  I debate on whether or not to tell him the truth, but he’ll find out anyway, and it’s best he be prepared.

  “She is an Enforcer. A…” I pause as I try to recall the Surface term Mother taught me. “A police officer? She makes sure people follow the law.”

  “Earlier you said that you would protect your Citizens from Surface Dwellers at any cost. Are these Enforcers part of this … protection?”

  I nod, refusing to meet his eyes.

  “And what exactly does ‘at any cost’ mean?” I don’t answer, but he apparently doesn’t need one. “What happened to my friend, that’s what you mean, isn’t it? And my other people? The ones that disappeared after going into the woods. We saw their stuff in the cave. They’re dead too, then. That’s why they haven’t come back.” He looks at the Enforcer, who is still watching him. “She’s an assassin!”

  “Enforcer,” I correct. “And you are the only Surface Dweller I’ve ever seen.”

  “But she kills people on your orders.”

  “Not mine. Not yet.” For some reason it’s important for me to make that distinction.

  “What is a little girl doing being an assassin?” he asks.

  “Enforcer,” I correct again, oddly relieved he’s more curious than frightened. I kneel next to him and adjust my skirt so it lays flat on my legs, and when I glance back up, he’s watching me intently. I realize he’s still waiting for my answer. “All Enforcers are female. They are the only ones selected for the designation.”

  “Why?”

  “Because females have endurance and dexterity that men lack.” I pull out all my materials and lay them in front of him in the order I will use them. The clove leaves, Egyptian lily petals, the bottle of water from my pond, and my mortar and pestle for grinding all that together into a paste. “Mother tried men, but they never withstood the training.”

  “What happened to them?”

  My eyes flit to his before focusing back on my task. “They died.”

  He watches as I set it all up. His eyes follow each movement of my hands, as if not completely trusting I won’t slip something in there that doesn’t belong. While it should bother me that Gavin doesn’t trust me, the intensity of his gaze has my stomach fluttering with nerves and the heat of a blush creeping up my throat to burn my face.

  “But she’s just a kid!”

  “Mother also tried older women, but again the training failed. So she just kept trying younger and younger girls until she found an age that worked.”

  “Besides Surface Dwellers, why would y’all possibly need assass— Enforcers here anyway?” he asks. “I can’t imagine we’re a threat very often. Especially not when you have to fall off a damned cliff first.”

  His eyes give too much away and I don’t want to know what he’s thinking, so I keep my eyes focused on my task.

  “Because that is the cost of peace. Everyone must follow the law. If you do not, you are a traitor an
d will be treated as such.”

  “So you kill people who don’t follow the law?” His voice is filled with disgust.

  I finally meet his eye. “If it is necessary.”

  He shivers, but then his brow furrows. “How does being the Daughter of the People help you treat my wounds?”

  “You have asked five questions since you last answered mine.”

  He makes a sound like a growl in his throat. “Fine,” he spits out. “Ask away.”

  Crushing the leaves and petals, I mix little drops of water into the bowl of the mortar. “You said you were hunting? Why?”

  Gavin gives me a look of disbelief. “For food. And fun. How else do you get meat?”

  “Well, you grow it, of course.” He starts laughing, and a smile cracks my lips. I’m pleased his disgust isn’t directed at me. “What?”

  Still smiling, he says, “You can’t grow meat. It’s not a plant.”

  I laugh a little. “I suppose the correct word is raise. You raise cows and chickens. Goats. Pigs. All sorts of strange creatures. So I have read. We don’t have animals here. All our protein comes from vegetables, like soybeans and beets. Fish.”

  He frowns, looking disgusted again. “No real meat?”

  “We have a whole Sector devoted to raising crops. We can grow almost anything. Because of the dormant volcano that created this trench, we have some of the richest soil in the world. And our scientists have developed ways to make the crops even more nutritious. Plus the fish are plentiful here. Raising domestic animals causes too much waste and requires too much space,” I explain. “We have excellent nutrition, and the cooks are quite talented.”

  He doesn’t look convinced. “If you say so. Anyway, we have livestock, but not everybody has the money for it. Besides, fresh game can bring a lot of money. Like, we caught a peacock the other day and we were able to trade the meat for flour, lamp oil, fruit, even some meat from the butcher. I even traded some of the feathers to get a bolt of fabric for my mom.”

  I stop crushing the paste and tilt my head to look closer at him. “But if you got meat from the butcher with it, why didn’t you just eat it in the first place?”

  He gives me a strange look. “Because for the half pound of peacock I gave him, I got enough meat to feed my family for a month, if we’re careful.”

  I still don’t understand. That seems like a really long and complicated circle. “Why don’t you just buy it outright then? Is there no stipend? Do you not have designations? Does the Governess not compensate you for contributions?”

  Gavin laughs sharply and leans back against the wall, crossing his arms behind his head. “What Governess? We have a sheriff that makes sure no one kills one another, and a mayor sent from The City who gets paid to sit on his ass in his office and look pretty, but otherwise there’s no one to give us money. We trade and barter for whatever we need. For instance, my mom makes clothes and trades them to the general store for the things we need from there.” He pauses. “You have someone who gives you money?”

  “We receive our allotment of credits based on our designations—”

  “Designations?”

  “Our occupations. Everyone is given a position in our community based on their genetics.”

  He lifts an eyebrow. “So, you don’t have a choice of what you do? And you don’t have a problem with that?”

  “Why would I? Sacrifices must be made for the greater good.”

  “O-kay—” he drags out the “O” sound. “So. You get a designation and then someone pays you?”

  “Yes. Mother.”

  He gives me an incredulous look. “Your mother pays everyone? Wow, she must have a money tree.”

  I cross my arms over my chest and narrow my eyes. “I’m not an idiot. There’s no such thing as a money tree.”

  He chuckles. “It’s just an expression. Sorry.”

  I’m not completely convinced, but I continue. “Mother is the Governess. She compensates everyone by his or her designation. We’re allotted quarters, a certain amount of food, and credits to spend based on that and whether we have a family or not.”

  “If you’re given food and shelter, why do you need money—credits?”

  I sigh. “For the extra things. Like clothing, amusements, the Bazaar where the Artisans sell their wares. Not everyone is given money by the Governess, you know.” I think he may feel more comfortable if I can use his language. “Like you said, she doesn’t have a money tree.” The corner of my mouth tilts up in a half smile.

  He returns it. “Okay, so who isn’t compensated and why not?”

  “Well, just the Artisans really, because they sell their wares and earn money that way. Mother says they create more beautiful things when they have to worry where their cred— money is going to come from. Otherwise … I guess we’re not so different from you. We trade our services for the things that keep us alive. And you hunt and trade the meat and skins for other things.”

  “Yes.”

  Not so different. The opposite of what Mother always says. We look at each other. But something else is bothering me. Something that is different. “And for … fun?” I ask.

  He nods and his eyes glaze as if remembering something from long ago. “Yes. Sometimes my brother—he’s the one who usually hunts with me—we make a game to see who can get the most kills.”

  With a surprised gasp, I place my hand over my mouth. The mortar slaps onto the concrete floor.

  Gavin glances over, confused.

  “That’s horrible. You’re killing all those animals for fun?” I look away from him, pick up the mortar, and go back to the paste, but I don’t do anything with it. I just sit with it in my lap. I look back up at his face and shake my head. “Mother is right. You are a bunch of barbarians.” This is why I shouldn’t be helping him, but I find myself still mixing the herbs together to make a paste. As repulsive as I find this behavior, it’s also fascinating.

  He leans forward. “Yeah, so what? You have assassins. Now that’s barbaric.” He looks relaxed, but there’s a tension to his body that wasn’t there before. As if he’s preparing for a fight.

  “They’re not assassins, they’re Enforcers! There’s a huge difference between killing for fun and killing to protect peace.”

  Gavin rests his hands on the floor between us so he’s eye level with me. I squirm, but he ignores me. “How is it better to murder human beings just for breaking some rules? At least we use everything the animal offers, even if we make a game out of it.”

  I grip the mortar tightly between my fingers. So tightly, it’s a wonder it doesn’t crack. “But we must keep the peace,” I spit out. “Sacrifices must be made for the greater good.”

  His eyes flash. “And some sacrifices must be made so we can eat and live!”

  Seething, I take the paste and smear it on his back. He grunts, and I have to force myself to apply it more gently. I refuse to say anything to him, but part of me realizes there is a certain truth to what he is saying.

  We kill to maintain our way of life. They kill to remain living. Which is more barbaric? I have to admit it’s probably us. At least they eat the things they kill and make use of the creature. What do we do? Turn the bodies into ash.

  This is not what I expected to learn. But it gives me plenty to think about.

  When his back is completely covered in the medicinal paste, I pack my things and then glance at the Guards. The Enforcer is gone. While I’m relieved, I have to wonder why she was here in the first place. If it wasn’t to help the Guards, what was the real purpose? I move so my body blocks Gavin’s from the cameras. You can never be too careful. It is better to err on the side of caution. Mother taught me that.

  I hand him the second first-aid kit and lean down to whisper in his ear. I am confident my position looks like I am surveying the work I’ve done on his back. He jumps a little when he hears my voice.

  “This is filled with nonperishable food. It’s not the best, but it’s all I could get without Mother noticin
g,” I say. I move to leave, but he grabs my hand. Little tingles zing up my nerve endings and cause a fluttering in my stomach. I snatch my hand away as panic swirls through my body, causing my heart to hammer in my chest. Touching between unCoupled people is forbidden.

  This must be why unCoupled people shouldn’t touch each other. It feels funny. And yet, it’s slightly familiar. I’m not sure why. Even when one of my previous Suitors accidentally touched me, it hadn’t felt like this.

  “Are you breaking the law by giving me this stuff?” His voice is soft, but I’m sure it’s only because he doesn’t want me to get in trouble. If I die, there will be no one to help him further. He doesn’t seem like a stupid person, even if he is a Surface Dweller.

  I stuff my items back into the little pack I brought them in, trying to ignore the tiny flutters still tickling my stomach. “No, but I do not suppose Mother would be pleased, either.”

  His eyes move to meet mine. “I appreciate everything you’re doing for me. You could have left me here, as sick as I was. I probably would’ve given you the answers you needed, eventually.”

  “I know.” I pause for a second, then decide to finish my sentence. “I want to help you.”

  He watches me carefully. “Why?”

  I take a deep breath. Why am I helping him? Charity doesn’t extend to Surface Dwellers, does it? “I don’t really know. I just … want to.”

  Before he can reply, the door to the cell opens and a Guard gestures me over. Mother is waiting. Her presence can mean nothing good. She’d never risk a walk by the turrets.

  Before turning back to Gavin, I make sure any trace of fear is erased. I don’t want him to know anything is wrong. “I guess my time is up. I will be back when I can.”