After the Fear (Young Adult Dystopian)

by Rivers, Rosanne

  ‘Are you looking at the lamps?’ he asks, and his voice is smiling. ‘They’re designed from the ones you’ve admired in my office.’

  I nod. Around the tarmac, various free-standing lamps have been erected. They dangle from their hooks, large colourful orbs decorated with copper wiring.

  ‘They’re the ones from Egypt, right? When you wound up in a brothel instead of visiting the leader there?’ I laugh, referring to a story he told me the other night.

  ‘You know full well that was an accident! Anyhow, I refuse to believe you’ve never been to Egypt. I’m sure I saw you there.’ He laughs at his own joke and so do I. I’m surprised to find that I’m not putting it on. Kofi and her trainer have turned into one another, excluded from our you-had-to-be-there conversation.

  Shepherd Fines straightens up but keeps his hand on my back. It weighs heavily, making me feel safe yet like I’m on a leash all at once. When a faint knocking sound distracts us, I turn to it, stepping away from Shepherd Fines’ hand. What I turn to isn’t much better.

  Coral stands on a chair in front of the screen, tapping her glass with the edge of a plastic practice dagger. It makes a hollow noise, like breathing down a tube. Shepherd Fines lets out a ‘hmm’ to himself as he regards the situation, yet when people peer at him with questions in their eyes, he smiles and nods as though this was all part of his plan.

  ‘Hello everyone.’ Coral runs her eyes over the crowd, letting them take in the sight of her. She stands in a one-shouldered paper-white gown while that red hair cascades down her back in sweeping curls.

  ‘I wanted to raise a toast. To all of us. For fighting so hard to pay back our Debt.’ The sight of her beaming so radiantly seems to enrapture most of the people here. They nod and murmur their assent, raising their glasses. I accidentally catch Coral’s eye.

  ‘Oh, and to Sola Herrington, because we might not be having this party if it wasn’t for her.’ She raises her glass to me, and for anyone watching it would seem genuine. I nod stiffly in return, the small space between me and Shepherd Fines pressing in on me like an accusation.

  ‘Finally, to Alixis Spires. Sola informed me of your good news.’

  What? There’s a familiar sense of panic. Alixis looks to me, her expression sending waves of fright down my body.

  I step forwards, having no idea what I’m planning.

  ‘How many months are you? Judging by your belly I’d say four.’ Coral smiles. The whole world stops.

  Alixis stares, lips parted, one hand on her stomach. As if she can’t take in what’s just happened. Like if she doesn’t move, she can pretend nothing was ever said, no one heard anything.

  I don’t have that luxury. Shepherd Fines brings his glass down, his expression darkening as he scrutinises the crowd.

  As if to sweep away any doubt,—and I hate her, I hate her—Coral adds, ‘I’m sorry Alixis, did you want to tell everyone yourself that you were pregnant?’

  People turn, some gawping, some eying Alixis conspiratorially. Within seconds, a gap has opened around her and Dylan. I need to help, but I’m frozen. Caught between wanting to attack Coral and comfort Alixis. What can I do to make it all right?

  A nod from Shepherd Fines causes a Herd officer to appear from nowhere. He follows Shepherd Fines through the crowd and when they reach Alixis, the officer indicates for her to follow. It’s not a request.

  All anyone can do is watch as they walk solemnly up the stairs and disappear into Shepherd Fines’ office.

  Coral raises her glass. ‘Cheers, everybody!’

  I’M RUNNING ON HOT RED RAGE when I catch up with Coral moments before she reaches her pod shaft.

  ‘What the hell is wrong with you?’ I shout, not caring who hears.

  She turns to look at me, rolling her eyes before continuing to her pod shaft. ‘Calm down, Sola. There’s no need to get so excited.’

  ‘Why would you do that? How did you even know?’ I let the words pour out. I can’t help it.

  ‘I guessed ages ago. I was trying to help her, and today, she threw it back in my face.’ She speaks over her shoulder.

  ‘So you can’t handle it that one person doesn’t want to be your friend?’

  A lamp near me flickers, reminding me of getting caught in an electrical storm. Coral swings around like a threatened spider.

  ‘Sola, everyone wants to be my friend. Even you.’ She laughs, her delicate shoulders quivering. ‘It’s true, isn’t it? Despite everything, you’re still obsessed with me. It’s a shame that I find looking at you disgusting.’ She bites her lip and shrugs in a way that says ‘oops’.

  Her comment washes through me. It’s as though I’m reeling backward, but my feet are stuck to the ground.

  ‘Is this all because I kissed some boy?’ I whisper, despising that she can see how much I care.

  ‘Oh, honey.’ She puts on a high, soprano voice. ‘I was only jumping on the trampoline—like we used to.’

  I recognise the parody of my own words. It was when I was apologising to her, when I thought all of this was behind us.

  ‘No, Sola, it’s not what you’ve done, just who you are.’ She spreads her hands out, gesturing to me. I fight the shame that threatens to take over. ‘The moment you kissed Dylan, I realised you are exactly like your mother.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well, maybe not exactly,’ she says, looking into the air as if she were remembering my mum. ‘She was prettier than you, but you’re both harlots.’

  Red blotches creep into my vision. I have an overwhelming sensation of despair, which, combined with my rage, reminds me of being in the Stadium. That creature seems to wake from within. I don’t know who would win in a fight, but I’m willing to take my chances if she says one more thing about Mum.

  ‘We’re not harlots,’ I say, barely moving my mouth. ‘I’d never even kissed anyone before Dylan.’ It takes me a second after I’ve said it to realise I’m actually defending myself to her. How does she do this to me? How do I still care what she thinks?

  ‘Sweetheart, that doesn’t surprise me. Yet, now you’re giving it out to both Dylan and Shepherd Fines. I guess it’s not your fault. Adultery is in your blood.’ She gives me a patronising smile, but I can see from her tensed body that she’s ready for me if I pounce.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ My voice cracks. I’m on the edge of something and suddenly I don’t want to fall. I need to run back, retrace my steps. Curl up into someone’s lap and refuse to hear the words I’ve just asked for.

  Coral stares at me for a moment, her facade falling as she tries to read my face. She shakes her head incredulously, her features crumpled up in revulsion.

  ‘You honestly don’t know?’ Her tone is flat, disappointed. ‘You’re like a child.’

  When I don’t reply, she sighs, not even ready to fight anymore.

  ‘Your mother seduced my father for over ten years. Why do you think we always had to play together when she came around? What did you think they were doing?’ She has her head tilted back, exposing her neck to me. I could kill her right now. Get it all over with.

  Her words won’t sink in. It’s all lies. She’s tricking me like a fighter feigns an attack or a weakness. She’s luring me in.

  The red blotches close in on me. It’s as if I’m on the big screen and someone has pressed pause. The creature is frozen inside me too, unknowing whether to take over and attack, or to lie still.

  I try to assemble ‘they were just friends’ but nothing solidifies in my mouth. Instead, what comes out is tiny and doesn’t belong to me.

  ‘My dad?’

  ‘Yes. He knew.’

  ‘Your mum?’

  ‘Yes.’

  I nod. Unable to stop the pictures which invade my mind: her waiting with Mr Winters outside school; Mum and me getting on the rail to Coral’s; asking whether her makeup’s okay before we knock on their door. Over ten years. That was longer than I knew her for. Did I even know her?

  Coral scans into her shaft.
Everything’s racing. As I watch her, the link that joins us solidifies in my mind. We’re tied together whether we like it or not. No wonder I could never let her go.

  ‘Coral,’ I call, covering the metres of tarmac between us. ‘You might be my sister.’

  I’m not even sure I’ve said the last bit aloud until she turns, spinning slowly. Her cheeks are sucked in as she glowers darkly. In that second, I can hardly believe how ugly she is.

  My comment isn’t new to her.

  ‘You are no relation of mine, Sola Herrington.’

  She blows me a lacquered-fingered kiss, just like the one in the refectory a week ago, and strides into the pod shaft. All I see is the ragged rope that runs from her to me, understanding but not understanding at all.

  ONCE AGAIN, I spend hours sitting alone underneath the oak tree. Eventually, night swallows the camp whole, and the cold gets too much to bear in my flimsy dress.

  I hate Coral more than I thought I could. The picture of my perfect family has been smashed and Mum’s not even around to defend herself. Don’t people say that once the seed of doubt has been sown, you can convince yourself of anything? That’s why you should never diagnose yourself, why everyone’s innocent unless proven guilty.

  Well, that’s what I’m doing now. Re-evaluating every memory of Mum, of her and Dad. Of Mr Winters. As I tread back to my pod, I shudder at the thought of Mr Winters being my father. I imagine every patch of grass is his face, which I stomp with my dainty black shoes.

  Alixis is sitting on her bunk when I scan in. She mirrors her pose from when I returned from my first Demonstration. Except this time, she isn’t praying. Her eyes are dry and empty. She doesn’t react when I sit next to her.

  I try to find some perfect words—that magic sentence which will make Alixis and her baby okay, my mum’s memory whole again, and me back at home with Dad. But there isn’t one. Instead, I twine my arm around my best friend’s. We sit like that for a while, staring at the pod’s side, watching the cleaners work into the night to dismantle the party remnants on the playground.

  ‘It’s a boy.’ Alixis breaks the silence, causing me to start. ‘They made me take an ultrasound.’

  I glance to the trigger camera. It’s on, and the sheet I wrapped around it so long ago has finally been removed.

  ‘And what happens now?’ I whisper. Alixis’ voice is steady—vacant.

  ‘I wait, I give birth, I give them my baby. Then I fight.’

  I swallow. No words, again.

  ‘I’m . . . I’m sorry. You know I didn’t tell Coral, don’t you?’

  Alixis nods, speaks slow, vacant words.

  ‘It doesn’t matter now anyway.’

  When she turns to me, I don’t think she really sees me at all.

  ‘Good night, Sola,’ she says. She’s still smiling that empty smile which makes me want to cry. I nod, untwine my arm from hers and clamber into bed without changing.

  I NEVER THOUGHT I would think this, but the Demonstrations have become welcome in my life. My tour is well and truly zooming past. The fainting seems to be getting better, too, although I now stand a lot farther away from the criminals’ gate. My kill count is going up and up and up until there’s no more room for dead eyes left in my dreams.

  I cut down five elderly people in city Uniform. Drawing the fight out so that the contestants thought they stood a chance . . . all the while thinking about my number of followers. Right now, the thought of surviving my last Demonstration is all that’s keeping me going.

  Time at the camp has become unbearable. All the life has been sucked from Alixis, leaving her a vacant, bump-growing machine. She stays in our pod all day, reading the Book of Red Ink over and over until she wanders out to the refectory. It’s as if she’s living in a world of shade, only seeing and hearing the things right in front of her. Every day she falls deeper into her own empty space and there’s nothing I can do to drag her up again. Each time I see her purple-ringed eyes, a fear creeps up on me more terrifying than anything I’ve ever felt in the Stadium.

  I’ve tried talking to Shepherd Fines, begging him to change his mind. He says it’s out of his hands. He ‘has to obey the rules in the Book of Red Ink like everyone else’. That doesn’t make any sense to me, considering I know he has the power to implement change on every single one of those rules. He only has to persuade six others, and it’s done. But no, he has his ‘father’s legacy’ to uphold. The baby will be taken, and what happens to the child after is none of my or Alixis’ business.

  I just hope Dylan was right, that the baby will be given to a family who wants a child.

  Dylan and I are still not speaking. Somehow, it’s turned from me being mad at him to the other way around. You would think he would be happy—I’m spending more time with Shepherd Fines than ever. Didn’t Dylan give us his royal blessing? Yet, now that we lack Alixis to glue us together, we stride past each other at camp with our heads held high and without a sideways glance.

  No one ever told me that in order to ignore someone, you had to be painfully aware of everything they’re doing all the time.

  I miss him. I miss Alixis. I miss Mum being my mum and Dad being my dad.

  ***

  A FORTNIGHT AFTER THE PARTY, Shepherd Fines and I return to the camp from a Demonstration in Romeo, where I killed two women for conspiring against the Shepherds. The moment I step through the gate, I know something’s changed. The air is quiet but full, like poisonous gas has been channelling between the buildings, and no one can breathe or speak.

  ‘Sir, is everything all right in there?’ I motion across the empty field towards the camp.

  ‘Of course, my dear. Now you go and get some rest.’ He waggles a finger at me.

  The Shepherd has abandoned all pretence of having business in the cities where I demonstrate, and I have to admit, seeing his face in the crowd when I fight gives me more strength. It reminds me I have a shot of finishing this thing. Of getting out of here.

  I’ve heard the rumours of course; Debtbook is rife with speculations about the school-girl Demonstrator and her Shepherd. Some people think it’s sick and that I’m his favourite pet. Others like to believe it’s true love, and we’ve found it in the least likely of situations. I think it’s a little mix of both. Maybe love, on his side, maybe control for both of us.

  The wind turns colder as I reach the playground. Shepherd Fines heads down a separate path, on his way to who-knows-where.

  A low sob hiccups through the silence. I follow the sound until I reach a huddle of Demonstrators at the bottom of Shepherd Fines’ stairs.

  Four of them sit tightly together, while one paces behind.

  ‘It’s Sola,’ I hear one whisper. The pacing boy stops.

  ‘Did you know about this?’ he demands. I don’t have time to answer.

  ‘Of course she did. She is sleeping with him, after all.’ The man sitting on the stairs looks me up and down. I recognise the disgust in his eyes. There’s a murmur of assent from the rest of them.

  ‘Whatever,’ I say. ‘I came to see whether you were all right, but forget it.’ My fists are little balls as I turn away. I’m not sleeping with anyone, but if I am, what business is it of theirs?

  ‘Dao’s dead.’

  I stop breathing. Everything inside me freezes. Dao’s last Demonstration was today. We said goodbye last night. He was going to win. I knew it.

  ‘Your Shepherd blinded him. What a fun twist,’ the boy spits out at me.

  ‘I . . . I . . . I didn’t know,’ I whisper, still facing away from them. I close my eyes against the image of gentle Dao unable to see in the Stadium, desperately trying to hear those around him. I’ve been so obsessed with my own fights, my own misery that I didn’t think to ask Shepherd Fines to go easy on Dao. I didn’t consider his poor count of followers.

  The message is simple: if the crowd doesn’t care about you going home, you don’t go home.

  ***

  GIDEON DOESN’T LEAVE HIS POD FOR DAYS. From t
he nasty looks various Demonstrators shoot me as I wait by his pod shaft, I know I’m blamed for Dao’s death. I’m just about to give up and head to my pod when someone scans out of the shaft. It’s him.

  His eyes are ringed with grey bags, his skin practically draping from his cheekbones. I wonder when he last ate.

  ‘You need to leave,’ he says. I take a deep breath. For hours, I have been preparing myself for this, but imagining how much he hates me is nothing compared to the emptiness in his voice.

  ‘Gideon, I’m sorry about Dao.’ When he doesn’t reply, I continue. ‘I don’t care who else blames me for what happened, but I need you to know that I didn’t have anything to do with it. I had no idea—’

  ‘Maybe you could have asked, then.’ He interrupts. ‘Maybe you could have cared? One word from you, and this wouldn’t have happened.’

  ‘That’s not true! I don’t even have influence over my own Demonstrations. I can’t control what Shepherd Fines decides. I loved Dao. I—’ I’m rambling now, trying to quell the stickiness in my throat and burning in my eyes.

  Gideon interjects. ‘Fine, Sola. It’s not your fault he’s gone. But why do you still cosy up to the man who killed your so-called friend?’

  I shake my head. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. How any of this can be pinned on me?

  ‘It’s his job! And why are you still friends with Coral?’ I shoot back. ‘She is the reason I’m here. Not to mention how she told Shepherd Fines about Alixis’ baby.’

  Gideon stares back at me. The hollowness of his gaze, the way his mouth sets, makes me shudder. It’s as though he’s looking at a corpse.

  ‘Coral didn’t murder Dao,’ he says quietly. ‘You know, Coral’s not perfect. She isn’t going to be rescuing orphaned kittens anytime soon. But she looks out for those she cares for. Which is more than I can say for you.’