The Wall (The Woodlands)

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The Wall (The Woodlands) Page 27

by Taylor, Lauren Nicolle


  “If we can do that, we can do anything,” I cried. Tears streamed down my face. It was so hard, more physically testing than anything I’d ever done. And the worst was yet to come. How would we survive this? Especially without Pietre.

  “That’s good,” she said into my hair, her hand resting on my shoulder, “because now we have to outrun wolves.”

  The new plan. Well, the only plan, was to leave Pietre in the cave and run all the way to the edge of the town. We’d left our sleeping bags with Pietre and removed anything inessential so we weren’t weighed down. We didn’t even take water bottles—we would rely on snow. Careen was going to run east a kilometer or so and kill something, hopefully something big, to distract the wolves. Then she would run back to the cave and we would set out together.

  We would have to travel in daylight, which was risky, but we weren’t going to be able to camp, which meant we weren’t going to be able to sleep. Panic deserted me at this time. It should have strangled me, but I don’t know, the fact we were facing death, just pulled everything into sharp focus. We had to do it. We had no choice. We would run and we would take our chances.

  Squatting in the cave waiting for Careen was agonizing. I felt ready to spring—to run. I ate what little my stomach could handle and drank some water. I stretched my legs and checked back on Pietre every now and then. When he woke up, he would be in terrible pain and I was thankful I wouldn’t be around to see his scowling face when he did open his eyes. Looking at him now, he seemed peaceful except for the bulging bruise on his temple.

  I heard a rustling in the trees and snapped my head back around to its origin. Pale hands pulled through the branches, covered with snow-iced leaves. Careen.

  She climbed up to the cave entrance. She explained that she’d managed to kill an elk and carve it up crudely so she could deposit bits of it around in the trees. I shuddered and then I laughed. Careen looked at me like she thought I was going crazy.

  “You all right?” she asked in a tone indicating she clearly didn’t think I was.

  I laughed again. “A butcher and a carpenter running for their lives in the woods… It sounds like the start of a really bad joke.”

  She gave me another wondering look, like, What is going on inside that head of yours? But she didn’t say anything.

  It would take the wolves some time to get all the pieces down. Careen had also marked trees heading in the opposite direction to our cave with blood. It would lead them away from Pietre’s sleeping body. I composed myself at the chilling visual. Always blood. Hopefully, this elk’s sacrifice would save us.

  Careen had a little water and ate something. She leaned down and ruffled Pietre’s hair. Kissing him lightly on the cheek, she whispered something to him and then strode purposefully towards me. She may have wanted to be a butcher but everything about her screamed warrior. This was it. We had no one to rely on except each other. The sun rose, peeking through the branches, spilling blood-tinged light over the black rocks and bouncing off the snow.

  I could feel them in my chest, pounding paws digging in and pushing off in unison.

  “Let’s go.”

  We hit the ground and broke into a frantically paced run. We had no idea what kind of head start we had or whether our diversions would work. We only knew what direction to run and that’s what we did. We put our heads down and sped across the snow as fast as we could. Careen ran behind me, knives clutched in both hands. I clasped the handheld in front of me, turning and veering, keeping the red arrow straight. It said we had fifteen kilometers to go. I wish I hadn’t known that.

  Running. Running. Running.

  The edges of my vision darkened like I was passing through a shadowy tunnel. Exhaustion approached me, clamping its ragged fingers around my shoulders and trying to pull me backwards. But I kept my head down and kept pushing forward.

  On and on, one foot in front of the other, ignoring the buzzing in my ears and the thickness of the surrounding air. I was moving through bitter honey.

  I pictured Joseph’s face in front of me. I heard Orry’s laugh and saw it dancing in the trees. I held out my hands for them but they disappeared into a wisp of smoke.

  “We have to stop,” I managed to expel.

  “We can’t,” Careen replied halfheartedly.

  “One minute.” I put my finger up.

  I quickly took a drink, leaned myself against a tree, and sunk into it. I imagined it wrapped its branches around me and lifted me to the sky. I’d be out of air but out of reach. I closed my eyes. I would just close my eyes for one minute, just rest for two seconds. My mouth cooled and my breath steadied. I would just sleep for five minutes. Greyness. Pinprick edges and haze.

  Careen slapped me back into consciousness. I awoke with a start, putting my hand to my face, feeling light, scratchy icicles running off my cheeks from her snow-covered glove.

  “Wake up. We are not giving up now. We’re nearly there. Look,” she said, holding the handheld that was frozen to my palm in front of my face. It read two kilometers. It was barely midday and we were almost there. I guess fear makes you fast.

  Hope got a hold of me and rattled me awake. We might make it. We could find a tree to sleep in. We could still get this done in time.

  The sound and the sight of three wolves approaching grabbed at the hope and tore into tiny pieces right in front of me. We were dead.

  Their muzzles were bloodied. Their eyes focused on the two, white-clad puffs, two Woodland girls who didn’t belong out here in the Wilderness. Careen grabbed my shoulder and squeezed. Our eyes connected and I inherited her wildness. I thought of nothing other than survival. We turned and ran.

  They were so close. Their low growls rumbled in my ears and then a quick bark followed as they pursued us through the undergrowth. Branches whipped at my face as I scrambled up and over rocks. The unnatural, cool steel of wind-turbine posts suddenly creating an extra obstacle course we had to weave around. They churned the air and confused sound. I peeked back at the wolves; they shook their heads, their ears flapping against their heads. The whirring confused them too and slowed them down a fraction. Careen stayed at my back. I knew she could run faster than me and I didn’t understand why she hadn’t overtaken me yet.

  I twisted my head back to look at her and realized she had stopped. She was standing legs parted, knives up, ready to throw.

  I watched in slow-motion terror as she threw them both. One connected with a black wolf’s chest. The great dog skidded in the snow, smashing face first into the ground with a single yelp, and then went silent. The other knife landed in the front leg of another, but it only seemed to make it angrier and it didn’t slow its pursuit. Careen spun around, weaving her hand into mine, and ran next to me. I’m not sure who was leading. We dragged each other along.

  We didn’t care how much noise we made. We were intensely focused on getting close to the wall and up a tree as fast as we could.

  The handheld flashed. Two-hundred meters.

  Oh my God. We might actually make it. I looked up and noticed the trees were spreading out, becoming sparser and sparser as we approached the wall. There would be nothing to climb.

  My concentration lapsed for a fragment of a second and that was all it took. I put my foot down between two rocks, my boot wedged, and I fell forward, my face planted in the snow. All I could see was white. All I could hear was growling. They were right on top of us now.

  A hand grabbed the back of my jacket, yanked me up, and threw me forward. A jaw snapped closed, connecting with nothing but air, teeth on teeth, just missing my calf. The wall was right there. I could see it. Grey concrete topped with white snow like a molding cake. But it was too late. We’d run out of time.

  I don’t know what I was hoping for, but I sprinted at the wall for all I was worth. Maybe I thought someone might see us, rescue us, pluck us from the ground and place us back inside the walls. I didn’t want to die.

  We slammed against the wall at the same time. I pounded it with my fist
weakly but my mouth wouldn’t open. I realized quickly and depressingly that I would rather die than be captured and put back in there.

  We planted our backs to the concrete, waiting for the wolves to spring at our throats and tear us to shreds. This would not be a quick death.

  Careen took my hand and squeezed.

  The two remaining wolves had slowed to a walk. They had us cornered and they knew it. They moved slowly, their tongues hanging out, the injured one limping slightly. Their eyes were wild, the bloodstains around their mouths making them look monstrous and invented. They lowered their bodies to a ready crouch. I blinked slowly.

  Joseph, I’m sorry.

  I concentrated on the mouth of the black wolf. Its crusty lips lifted, gums baring polished, white fangs. Pink-tinged saliva dripped from its growling jaw. My heartbeat slowed to match the viscous trickle. It slowly bulged with the extra weight of more liquid joining it and then plopped onto the fresh, powdery snow, spreading like a stain and disappearing as it melted through the ice.

  The wolves pushed off and flew through the air. Their fur stood on end, sharp as needles, as their bodies created an elegant arc, paws outstretched and pointed like they were part of a dance. They were awe-inspiringly beautiful even as they were terrible.

  Something cracked like lightning, and the scene transformed. Mid-flight, their fur singed black and they fell like clumps of snow from over-weighted branches to the ground, three feet in front of us. Their chests heaved in pain. The foul smell of burning flesh crept up my nostrils.

  We stood like statues, afraid to move, our eyes passing over the lumps of futile fur. Careen stepped forward and swept her foot over the snow under one of the wolf’s limp legs. “Scorch spot,” she whispered breathlessly as her dusting revealed a metal curve about three-inches wide, buried in the snow. I turned to her with a withering look. She tapped it with her foot and leaned down to press her ear to it with her hands behind her back. I did the same, hearing a faint, ominous humming.

  “They’re called Scorch Spots. Be careful! Don’t put your hands and feet on the ground at the same time and don’t come too close,” she warned, in between panicked breaths. I got up awkwardly, my legs starting to spasm under my weight. “Anything with four legs gets zapped as they cross the threshold. I remember them from my Guardian training. They protected us from animals on outside patrols.”

  The wolves looked at us through piercing, yellow eyes. So un-human but so human was their need. Help, they pleaded. And despite the fact they tried to kill me, they were wild animals and deserved a better death than this. Careen obliged, slitting their throats neatly as her hands shook from exhaustion and sheer nervous energy. The wolves bled out in seconds.

  I put my shoulder to one, trying to heave it over, but it was immense and what little strength I had was sapped.

  “We can’t move them,” I said in a high, stepped-on voice. This would draw attention if it hadn’t already. Careen scooped up some snow and threw it on the black wolf’s back. It contrasted so strongly. The pure, cold white against the rough, dark fur and warm, flowing blood. I shuddered at its barbarity and its necessity. We heaped snow and broken branches on their bodies as fast as we could. When we were done, we ran around the wall until we’d put a good distance between us and them, hugging the smooth concrete.

  Careen’s eyes were slightly crazed when they snapped to me. My first clarified thought was Pietre. I hoped he was ok. “We have to find somewhere to hide,” she whispered, although it sounded more like a soft shriek. Even Careen could panic.

  I surveyed our surroundings. The black rocks had petered out and stood only a few feet from the ground. There were straggly pines about two-hundred meters back into the forest but they didn’t look very strong. Wind turbines shot up everywhere. The bases of the posts were big and set in each one was a small maintenance door. I pointed one out to Careen.

  “What about in there? Could we kick it in?” My voice was still breathless, the high edge of terror still dominating. Careen just nodded and we lugged our exhausted bodies to the nearest one.

  The door was flimsy and easy enough to jimmy. Careen, not so carefully, jammed the edge of a knife in and wrenched it until the door came loose. We crept inside the small space and pulled it closed.

  Inside, the darkness was impenetrable. I could see nothing and only hear Careen’s ragged breathing and shuffling legs. Exhaustion hit me like a falling rock, splitting me open and riddling me with holes. I could move no longer, my brain emptied. We lay against the curve of the hollow post, listening to the whipping of the air above and the creaking and turning of the mechanisms within.

  We slept wound around each other, breathing low and shallow, fearful but unable to stay alert. And as I drifted into unconsciousness, I couldn’t for the life of me care what happened next.

  How could I care about anything when I was this tired?

  I awoke in pain. My back crunched up against cold steel, Careen’s heavy legs resting over my calves. I couldn’t feel my feet. I wiggled out from under her and pins and needles surged up my legs. Dragging my leaden body around, I felt for the door, suddenly scared we’d locked ourselves in. I didn’t want to come this far and have it end here. I moved around the wall with my hands and couldn’t find the opening, starting to panic. We’d be trapped.

  I pressed harder with my fingertips, feeling for any point of difference. Finally finding the edge of something, I pushed. The cold hit me hard but at least it wasn’t snowing anymore. It was night, a sprinkling of stars and a crescent moon lighting up the darkness. The silhouettes of the wind turbines looked like giant claws stretching to the sky to pull the stars down. I fumbled around, trying to find the handheld, and checked the time. It was close to midnight. We didn’t have long.

  I rattled Careen. “We need to change.”

  Changing brought me close to hysterics—as two girls tried to dress in a narrow space that only got narrower as we stood. There were arms and legs everywhere, bumping heads and hands put in places they shouldn’t have. By the end, we were both laughing so hard we were crying.

  “Ha! The last time I was naked with someone it was a bit different than this,” Careen laughed.

  “Me too!” slipped out before I could stop myself.

  She stopped moving and grabbed for my arm in the dark.

  “So you and Joseph finally…?”

  My face felt hot and I was glad she couldn’t see me, “How did you know we hadn’t already?” I snapped in an unwarranted outburst.

  There was a pause and I pictured Careen searching around in her head for an answer.

  “It was the way you moved around each other, like there was a current running between you.” She giggled. “Also it was the way he looked at you like if he stared hard enough, your clothes would just fall off!”

  I snorted, barely able to contain my amusement. Careen was so bubble-headed, but sometimes she cut right through all the excess rubbish, the politeness. She pushed past the issues pressing at the sides and put her finger right on the heart of the matter.

  Being more experienced than me, I had to ask, “Does that change? I mean, after you’ve slept with each other that first time?”

  She slapped out at me in the dark, grazing my side with her fingertips. “No, silly! It’s just that, now, you can actually do something about it!”

  “So it didn’t change things between you and Pietre?” More silence.

  “Pietre and I haven’t done that yet,” she said quietly.

  “Oh,” was all I could say. I was glad she couldn’t see my face, my eyes wide and unblinking with surprise. Pietre had lied to me. Good for Careen. She had more control in that relationship than I realized. It made me think I didn’t know her that well and the more I found out about her, the more I liked. I mean, she certainly was an acquired taste, but then, so was I.

  I thought about Joseph and Orry, waiting for me at home. At least I hoped they were waiting for me. A jagged lump rose in my throat, bringing water to my eye
s. I would never find someone who loved me as much as Joseph did. I missed my family so much I felt like I would be sick. It was a physical pain that twisted and turned in my stomach.

  I wiped the tears from my eyes, found Careen’s arm, and squeezed. “You ready?”

  There was no response. “Careen, did you hear me? Are you ready?” I whispered through gritted teeth.

  “I nodded,” she said irritably.

  I rolled my eyes. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re in the dark. I can’t see you.”

  “Oh yeah, whoops,” she said in her light and light-headed tone. “Yes, I’m ready. Let’s go.” And like that, she was back to the same old Careen.

  We stepped outside and were surprised to find the snow had disappeared almost as quickly as it had arrived. The ground was muddy and the air mild. I fished out the handheld and handed it to Careen. She swished and swiped the screen until the homing beacon signal appeared on the screen—a little red dot that seemed to be moving within a very confined space, back and forth. The Spider lived in Ring Five. She shoved it in her pocket. A slight glow emanated from her right side where it sat.

  Inside our packs was an additional set of camouflaged clothing, as well as gloves and booties for climbing the wall. Careen had the device that would open the gates. We were to get in and out quickly, making as little noise as possible.

  We crouched down low and padded swiftly towards the wall, leaving our conical refuge behind. My heart was beating so fast I was sure Careen could hear it. Here we were, back at the place it all started. I swallowed hard when were close enough to the wall for its shadow to chill my bones. I severely understood the gravity, the danger, of what I was about to do.

  What if I failed?

  What if they caught me?

  What if I never got back home?

  Stealing up to the edge, it was so hard not to turn around and run in the other direction. It loomed over us, just tipped by the light of the crescent moon, a towering wall of concrete that seemed to reach past the trees and into the sky.

 

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