The Wall (The Woodlands)

by Taylor, Lauren Nicolle

  This could have been the worst time possible. But I felt like the words would choke me if I didn’t spit them out now. I turned to Joseph and shouted, “I love you!”

  I wish I could say the world melted away in that moment, that time stopped and it was terribly romantic. What actually happened was he snorted, his eyes glowing. I wanted to smack him and throw my arms around him at the same time. I knew exactly what he was thinking. Now? Now is the time you choose to tell me you love me? I tried to wink at him but I think all I did was blink both eyes. At that point, he threw his head up in the air and, although I couldn’t hear him, I could feel his whole-hearted laugh deep in my own chest, spreading warmth through me like no one else could. I rolled my eyes. I was so good at making a fool of myself.

  I was speedily ejected from my happy state as the ground become unsteady under the sled and the nauseating sense of movement that was out of my control took over as the floor started rising.

  We were on some sort of ascending platform, like an open elevator. Everyone’s faces were tense. Their mouths were set hard, looking up. I didn’t blame them. As we rose, we could see the destruction around us. The cavernous hideout was being scooped out like an old pumpkin, patches of sunlight streamed through vast holes. Big blobs of snow dripped and spilled over the edges like melting ice cream. The dogs were barking and everyone was clinging to their sleds for dear life.

  We rose, wobbling, teetering. It felt like we were a plate balancing on a broom handle. It was dark and then suddenly we were pushed out into the frozen air like early spring saplings.

  People sighed collectively in relief, but voices were quiet. We had come out on the other side of the hill and were hidden only by the mound that was fast collapsing. We didn’t know where the Woodland soldiers were. We were about a mile from the tree line. The survivors shouted at their dogs, urging them forward, and the dogs obliged.

  The shouting morphed into a shattering bellow as the supports for the platform we were on started to give way. Metal creaked and strained as it swung one way and then fell to the side with a clang. The lip of the circular plate was barely touching the edge of the bank surrounding the hole. It looked so precarious it could have been clinging to a single snowflake. We were at the edge closest to the trees. Joseph shouted and the dogs started to run, our sled bouncing off and over a growing gap between the plate and the ground as it started to recede unevenly into the ground.

  But there were still groups behind us.

  I turned to see their sleds swing sideways and one, two, three of them slip over the edge and fall into the cavern below. Dogs yelped as they tried to find a hold on the metal plate that was now tipped at a 65-degree angle with their claws. They were running in the air as they fell. I wanted to jump up and help them but there was nothing we could do. The people didn’t even scream. I caught the stony face of the bored woman from that first meeting. Air whipped around her face, her sled spun, colliding with the dogs attached to it, making a hollow thud as it slammed into their ribcages. Then they disappeared into the ground in a tangled ball of human and animal.

  Who was left? I could see Gus and Cal at the front. Matthew was with them. Apella and Alexei were there. They were disappearing into the snow as the camouflaged sleds and outfits shrank into the whiteness. But where were Hessa and Deshi? My ribs strangled my heart as I searched ahead and behind me, but I couldn’t see them.

  I thought I must have been screaming—my voice as loud as the destruction, but my mouth wasn’t even open. My head was rattling, the ringing from the explosion and the pounding panic confusing me. If Hessa dies, I will die, I thought. I won’t survive it. I won’t. I won’t. I could feel Orry’s warmth on my back, realizing I had to. I had to survive anything and everything. It would keep coming, pelting me with new torment, and I would have to keep going, for him.

  I kept searching for them and we kept getting further away from the hill, or what was left of it. Joseph expertly controlled the sled. I tried to see his face, to make eye contact, but he was firmly focused on the horizon. We reached the trees and snow-covered branches slapped me in the face. It was so cold it burned. The sharpest pain, a thousand tiny needles burying into my skin. I imagined I could remove my whole face in one frozen mask. My body was warm but the wind on any part of my exposed skin was like a punch.

  The woman in front of me was leaning every time we turned and I copied her actions. It made the sled move more smoothly. She was quiet and calm. These people were crazy—or so far removed from crazy, they didn’t seem human.

  As opposed to me, who was frantic. Hessa. Where was Hessa? My eyes skittered in my head as I snapped back and forth, combing the frozen tundra for some sign of them. There were none.

  I wondered how far we would travel. It was so cold out here. My bones felt brittle and liable to snap. We wouldn’t survive for very long without shelter. A small sense of relief reached up when I realized the dogs couldn’t go on indefinitely. We would have to stop. Then I could make them turn around. I could go back and look for my baby nephew.

  But we didn’t stop. Not for a long time. The explosions had either ceased or we were too far away to hear them. The other sleds disappeared into white and I found myself disappearing too, bowed inwards like the answers lay in my belly button. I imagined the soldiers would be searching through the rubble now, stepping over the bodies and doing headcounts. My own head was going over all the possible scenarios. If Deshi and Hessa had survived the fall, they would be back in the Superiors’ custody. That thought pierced through me harder than the cold. They would be better off dead. Then the guilt that accompanied that thought was unbearable. I wished I could talk to Joseph but it was too hard to even turn my head, let alone open my mouth. I tried but my neck was stiff, my voice carried away by the wind and the chorus of panting dogs and paw pads.

  We just went on and on, moving through the trees. The sled cut a light track in the snow, gliding over it, almost flying. Everywhere, things that were once familiar were almost unrecognizable. The trees were bare. The light too bright, too shiny, like the sun itself had turned into a giant, cold, fluorescent light, giving off no heat but burning everything with its stark brightness.

  We turned a corner and the woods stopped abruptly. A cold, dark line of trees gave way to a perfect 45-degree slope. The other sleds were pooled at the base. The dogs strained to pull their masters up the hill. Some people disembarked and pulled the exhausted dogs up by their collars. We got to the hill and Joseph did the same. His knees reached up as he waded through the snow, looking like he was doing high kicks. I jumped out too, or more like pried my frozen butt off the seat, and battled my way up the incline with Orry on my back.

  “Wh-wh-wh-ere do you think we’re going?” I said through chattering teeth.

  “Beats me,” Joseph said between his boots crunching through the snow.

  The woman who had seemed like a statue up until now spoke. “We’re going home.” She smiled and turned her eyes frontward again, still sitting comfortably in the sled.

  Joseph put his arm around me and pulled me close, our hips colliding softly. Heavily padded suits provided an unwanted barrier. “Oh, and by the way, I love you too,” he said as he winked at me and then imitated my attempt at winking, blinking both eyes hard.

  I blushed, thinking the snow must be melting around my feet. Must he show me up at everything?

  I bumped him with my hip and he fell forward into the snow. We both started laughing, a kind of hysterical laughter that drew away some of the stress we were feeling. He pulled himself up, gave me his irresistible smirk, and we dragged the sled dogs to the top of the hill. The dogs were panting, their long tongues hanging out the side of their mouths. They were spent.

  We got to the top and my body cracked, the laughter throttling out of my lungs like a vacuum was sucking the air out. My frozen limbs pulled up and away from me as I remembered.

  Run.

  The need to flee was so strong, I wanted to jump off the incline and rol
l down the hill. Keep running and never, ever look back.

  Joseph stopped still, his beautiful eyes unblinking. Disbelief stung right through us both. The woman in our sled grunted impatiently and finally climbed out. My eyes flitted to her, irritated at why she had waited until now to help us. She pulled the dogs. It was a battle, though. Now that we had stopped running, the dogs seemed to think they had done their part. Their legs were still. Breathless, they leaned down to lick the snow, little puffs of steam floating from where their warm tongues had touched the ice.

  I put my hands to one of their heads and rubbed between its ears, burying my fingers into the soft fur and holding on like it was an anchor. It whined before the woman yanked the harness violently and urged them forward.

  Neither of us could move.

  I pulled Orry from my back and Joseph carefully shook him free of the capsule. His cheeks were pink and his nose was cold but he was ok. With his other arm, Joseph pulled me close to him. I moved stiffly, my legs buried in snow, my heart somewhere in my stomach. Never in a million years did I ever think we would be back here.

  “It’s ok. It’s not the same one,” he said close to my ear, his warm mouth tickling my skin. I nodded weakly. If it was ok, how come he hadn’t budged either?

  The rails were mostly buried with snow. But the shape of their path was still evident. Small sections of rusted steel poked out from the white here and there like vague zebra stripes. This twisting path led directly into my nightmares.

  The black hole laughed at me. Its stone border grinned with chipped and stained teeth. I could almost see it screaming and howling, with ghosts flying out of its ghastly mouth and flames licking the walls. I felt her arm link in mine but she didn’t push me. She was waiting. She would move when I moved. “Cla—” The name caught in my throat and stayed there, gravelly and uncomfortable.

  Joseph started towards the entrance, following the others, assuming I would follow. The tunnel whispered, ‘Hessa,’ for my ears only. I squatted down in the snow, removed my gloves, and plunged my hand into the ice. I let out a squeak as it both scalded and froze my fingers. It hurt but I wanted to feel something else, just for a second. The ice around me turned pink from my cut-up hands.

  I shrank back. Blood. Always more blood.

  Joseph stopped when he noticed I was still stuck in the snow and beckoned me with his spare hand. Get up and go, I thought.

  I was the kind of person that needed time. And I seemed to be someone who was always running out of it. Always having to kick myself, force myself to get over it and move. I wondered if this would ever change or if I would always be fighting and wading against the current.

  I trudged on, feeling a strong sense of deja vu. But as we got closer, I could see what Joseph was talking about. It was not the same. Not at all. I hesitated anyway… until the horribly familiar sound of blades slicing through the air started me running to the entrance. I burst through and crouched in the shadows, waiting for it to pass. It got louder and then the sound dissipated into the atmosphere as the chopper swung around and headed back in the direction of the mounds.

  Turning my gaze inwards, everyone was unpacking their stuff and stacking it against soot-smattered walls. The dogs were being watered and fed. The weird thing was they were all pinned against the wall like the tracks might rip up and bite them. I stormed in, ready to demand they take me back to look for Deshi and Hessa, when I heard a voice yell, “Rosa, wait!” before I slammed into something solid, hitting my nose quite hard, splinters of pain shooting into the backs of my eyes. The solid thing clanged and then it flickered before me.

  “What the…?” I reached out to touch it. It was cold, metallic feeling, but felt thin as paper, like I could push it in with my finger and make a dent.

  Deshi laughed loudly. “Ha! That was great—can you do it again?”

  My heart danced at the sight of him. I pinched the bridge of my nose and said in a nasally voice, “You’re not very nice to me, you know.”

  Deshi frowned theatrically. “Oh coz, you’re always sweetness and light…”

  I used my hands to guide myself to him, around whatever it was, and slammed into his chest. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I kissed his cheek and squeezed his thin body.

  Deshi went rigid, his arms tensing for a second, before he started shaking with laughter. “Are you confused or something? Joseph’s over there,” he pointed.

  I stepped back, embarrassed. “Sorry. I’m just glad to see you. I thought you… um… I thought we had left you and Hessa behind.”

  His eyes softened, something occurring to him. “Oh… Nah, we’re fine. We left before the rest of you. I think Hessa’s a little daredevil; he loved the sled.”

  “Where is he?” I asked eagerly.

  “Hessa?”

  I just glared at him. Who else would I be talking about?

  “He’s in there.” He pointed to the air above the cleared railways tracks. I sighed, tired of everything being a riddle. I wished someone would just sit me down and tell me what the hell was going on.

  I put my hands on my hips. “Where?”

  Deshi sighed too, impatiently. Then he took my hand, guided it over the smooth surface, and pressed. Something pulled back with a whoosh and again I saw it flicker. It was like a rip in space. I stared at the dull blue floor and purple upholstered seats, facing each other over a plastic table. And there was Hessa, strapped into a seat, slapping his hands on the table. He gave me a toothless grin when he saw me.

  I rushed to him, covering him in kisses and stroking his beautiful, black hair, cursing myself for not being more present in his life. Joseph poked his head in the door, beaming. Like this was all normal—like it didn’t surprise him at all that Hessa was sitting in an invisible bubble hiding tacky upholstery. I wished I were more like that, able to roll with things. “Orry, do you want to sit with your brother?” Joseph asked the baby in his arms. Deshi’s face darkened a little, a twisted expression, almost like it was a painful thing to hear. I was offended. Did he think Hessa was too good for Orry?

  “Orry can’t sit yet,” I said. “Besides, we are not sitting anywhere until I find out what’s going on.” I set my mouth in a hard line. Joseph looked at me and nodded. Agreeing? Wow!

  I stepped out of the room and the door closed behind me. Peering at it closer, I could see it was not invisible. Its surface flickered and wobbled as I moved around it. When I stood in front of it for too long, it started taking on the colors of my white suit, my dark face, and, amusingly, my brown and blue eyes. The brown and white swirled together, polka dotted with blue. Very clever. Then I pressed my nose to it, observing all the little mirrored panels that made up its exterior. All of a sudden, I was confronted with a gigantic pair of defective eyes staring back at me. I jumped.

  “Can you stop staring at yourself and come over here?” Deshi yelled.

  I used my hands to guide myself to the end of it, feeling reverse blindness—a seeing person in an invisible world. I found the group of Survivors talking close to the other entrance of the tunnel. Although, I guess they were the survivors of the Survivors now. Alexei and Apella were positioned against the wall behind them. He was trying to coax Apella out of the sled, to no avail.

  There were seven of them left. Only seven. I expected them to be grieving or angry but they were busy discussing the next move.

  Gus spoke first. “We should wait until nightfall and take the spinners.” Cal was standing right next to him. When I peeked around the corner, his eyes lit up like I was on fire or something. Standing next to his father, it was surprising how alike they were. Same height, same hair, even their faces were almost identical in shape. I wondered if Gus went around kissing people without their permission. I grimaced at the thought of that thick, scratchy-looking beard anywhere near my face.

  Joseph was listening, stroking his chin and swaying from side to side with Orry in his other arm. I tried not to gaze at the golden facial hair he had grown in his coma, adorable little br
ushstrokes of pure, spun gold, catching the light. His expression was stern. “I need to know your names and what your intentions are before any decisions are made,” he said flatly. Apart from Matthew, everyone was looking up at him. The way he spoke, no one was going to argue.

  Gus walked over to him and shook his hand, introducing himself as the coordinator of the group. We already knew Matthew. Gus introduced Cal as his son and a contributor. Coordinator, contributor, these were words we didn’t understand the meanings of. Joseph shook his hand also. I saw Cal smirk as he approached and then wince when they shook, Joseph squeezing his hand too hard. I didn’t think that was necessary. Cal was still pumping his sore hand behind his back when Matthew introduced two other men and two women. “This is Gwen, Elisha, Bataar, and Hally,” He motioned to a tall, young woman, the woman who had ridden with us, and two dark men, similar in age to Gus, their skin leathery and wrinkled like raisins, muscular and gruff. We nodded in greeting.

  “As for our intentions… we could ask you the same thing,” Gus stated, his dark brows knotted in conversation with each other.

  I scoffed. “We don’t have any intentions; we’re just trying to survive.”

  He shot me a disapproving stare at the same time as a cold wind shot through the tunnel. It swirled around us, shrieking, drowning out my irritation. Memories knocked me back like the wind was trying to dig icy fingers into my arms and drag me backwards through time. Back there, Clara would die all over again. I felt an arm on my shoulder, light and shaky. Alexei.

  “I think what Rosa is trying to say is… we appreciate everything you have done for us but we need to know that we can trust you,” Alexei stuttered, dragging Apella by the arm into the circle. “Everything has happened so fast.”

  “You’ve been through a lot, I know, and it is hard to trust people, people different from you. But you can, trust us, I mean,” Matthew said clumsily. He seemed somewhat unsure of himself, which was unlike him.