by Janean Worth
The Fidgets had never attacked them during the day before. And he’d never seen them use coverings such as they’d been wearing to protect themselves from the sun. A chill raced down his spine as he realized that they were getting smarter, and had learned a new trick—a trick that would endanger the small group at the sanctuary even more.
If the Fidgets could hunt them during the daylight hours in addition to the nighttime hours, it seemed only a matter of time before they found the secret paths that led to the sanctuary, because they’d have double the time to search for them.
Beside him, Kara slowed her horse to a walk, looking back over her shoulder as he slowed Gallant to match her filly’s pace.
“We lost them,” Kara said.
Mathew nodded. It didn’t take much for the horses to outdistance Fidgets. Fidgets had short little legs that were not made for running. Instead, their stumpy limbs were tipped with long, vicious claws, made to rend and tear and dig. The Fidgets in the Old Forest had used those claws to kill their food and dig burrows into hardened ground so that they could hide underground during the day, away from the damaging sun. The odd, intelligent Fidgets from the Narrow Road used those claws to kill for vengeance, greed, and an insatiable hunger.
“It isn’t a good sign that they were able to figure out how to protect themselves from the sun and are now coming out to attack during the day,” Mathew said. He glanced back over his shoulder, then swept his gaze across the rows of crumbling buildings teetering on each side of the road, anxiously looking for any more Fidgets.
“I wish Zandra was still with us,” Kara said. “She would have smelled them long before they even got close to us.”
Mathew heard the longing in her voice, and also the faint hint of despair that had seemed to plague Kara lately, and he wished heartily that there was something that he could do to ease both. However, most of his attempts to talk to her lately had ended in an argument. He knew what she was feeling, because he felt a bit of it himself. Otto had told him that it was called survivor’s guilt. The Sovereign had killed many of the Strays, and yet both he and Kara had survived. And, not only had they survived, but Jack had told them that the Sovereign had killed some of the other Strays as an act of retribution when Kara and Mathew had escaped the Enforcers who had been sent to bring them back to GateWide. So, indirectly, they were even somewhat responsible for the senseless deaths.
It was a heavy burden to carry, knowing that their actions had inadvertently caused so many cold‑blooded murders. Mathew knew exactly how that crushing guilt felt and he was willing to help Kara with the feelings that she struggled with, if only she’d let him. But she wouldn’t. She was, instead, stoically burying herself in the task of rehabilitating the Strays, almost to the exclusion of all else. To Mathew’s mind, the Strays were all doing fine at that point, and Kara needed to stop mothering them and turn her attention to resuming their search for the Narrow Gate, but she would not agree.
Sadly, it appeared as if Kara had lost her way. And no amount of argument from him seemed to be able to help her find it again. So he sighed, shook himself out of his own morose thoughts, and said, “I wish all of the tracken were still with us. With their heightened senses, it would be great to have them as sentries.”
Kara nodded, “Yes, it would, but I especially miss Zandra.”
“Tiber just wanted to give them all a chance to live away from humans, deep in the wilderness, now that they’re free,” Mathew said.
“I know, but I still miss her,” Kara said. “Do you think they’ll ever come back?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps Zandra and Razer might, just to see how we’re doing.”
“But, if they don’t come back soon, they might never find us once we leave for the Narrow Gate,” Kara said sadly, the note of despondency growing in her voice.
Mathew didn’t know what to do for her. Kara seemed to be falling deeper and deeper into hopelessness with each passing day. It scared him to think that she might be losing her resolve, and perhaps even her faith. He knew, even if she didn’t, that he would not find the Narrow Gate without her. His own faith just wasn’t strong enough, and he still needed to learn how to do the right thing more often. Kara was the expert in doing the right thing. He wasn’t.
Because he didn’t know what to say, other than that they should resume their search for the Narrow Gate before it was too late—before she grew even more depressed and withdrawn or before the Enforcers or Fidgets managed to find the sanctuary—he remained quiet. Though she seemed to think otherwise, he really had no wish to argue with her anymore.
Their awkward silence lasted all through that afternoon as they laid a false trail through the Old Forest to keep the ever‑seeking Enforcers busy and away from the maze and the sanctuary that it protected. On the way back to the sanctuary, they’d only spoken when he’d offered her some of the smoked fish from the saddlebags, and even then their conversation had been stilted and off‑kilter.
He missed the closeness that had been developing between them. Though all they seemed to do anymore was argue, Kara was still the only true friend that he’d ever had. Even when he’d lived in GateWide, before he’d become a Stray, he hadn’t had any true friends because he hadn’t known how to be a friend to anyone but himself. He’d been too selfish and spoiled. But with Kara, it had been different. She’d shown him a different way. At least for a time.
Normally, Mathew would have enjoyed their ride back through the ruined city, but not that day. Usually, he kept an eye out for unique finds, Old Tech, or frivolous trinkets left over from the Time Before, things to add to his collection at the sanctuary, but that day he kept a close watch for Fidgets. By the time they arrived back at the entrance to the maze that Otto had constructed, he was almost as tense as Kara looked to be. His neck muscles ached from his tension and his repeated looks from side to side and then behind them, trying to make sure they weren’t being followed by a crafty Fidget or a lurking Enforcer.
He heaved a heavy sigh as they entered the constricted pathway, knowing that he only had a few more moments to have Kara to himself before they returned to the sanctuary and she was inundated by the needs and requests from the Strays. Finally, he gave in. If all she wanted to think or talk about was the needs of the Strays, he could do that, too.
“Did Otto tell you that someone has taken some of the Old Tech from the storage area?” Mathew asked quietly, eyeing her stiff back as she rode single‑file in front of him.
The towering walls of concrete rubble passed his words back and forth between them, creating just a bit of an echo inside the silence of the maze. He was always careful to speak softly as they rode through the passageways, increasingly paranoid that the secret pathways would be discovered.
The sound of the horses’ hooves was softened somewhat by the layers of plant debris that he and Otto had gathered and lain along the trails just for that purpose, but Mathew was still feeling increasingly anxious that they’d be discovered any day. The feeling that they needed to leave before that option was taken from them was so strong some days that it felt almost like a physical pressure upon his chest. If the Enforcers found them and dragged them back to the House, he did not think that they’d be able to escape again.
As the echo of his words faded, he heard Kara sigh, “Yes, Otto told me.”
“What do you think it means?” Mathew asked, trying to allow her to take the lead in the conversation. He knew it was a little pathetic, but after all day of silence, he really just wanted to hear the sound of her voice.
“I don’t know. The Strays have all been told that we have some Old Tech, and that we’ve been gathering what we can find of it when we go out foraging. And, if Otto can figure out their purpose, I’ve made sure that the Strays all know exactly what each device does. I’ve also told them how important it is that they not play with the Old Tech because of the dangers it offers, but this is so much like the Sovereign’s decree that no one be allowed to touch Old Tech that perhaps one of them ju
st did it anyway. Or, perhaps someone became curious and took some Old Tech just to look at.”
“Yes, perhaps someone was just curious,” Mathew echoed, just to have something to say. Her guess was as good as any. He really had no idea why any of the Strays would have a purpose for the Old Tech. He would think that all of the Strays would be afraid to even be near the Old Tech, given the experience that they’d had with it at the House at the hands of the Sovereign.
“What do you mean by that?” Kara asked, her voice sharpening as it always seemed to do lately when she spoke to him.
“I didn’t mean anything by it. I was agreeing with you.” Mathew didn’t know how to get her to see that he was not the person that she needed to be angry with. He was only the person stating the obvious: that they needed to resume their search for the Narrow Gate. He wasn’t the reason for the obvious. The reason was the Sovereign. And the many Enforcers he kept sending to bring them back to GateWide so that they could be made to pay for freeing the Strays and so that he could get his hands on the Old Tech that Mathew’s father had left for Mathew. Another reason was that the Fidgets—not the animal‑like Fidgets in the Old Forest but the intelligent Fidgets that they’d run across on the Narrow Road—had grown increasingly more cunning in their attempts to attack any Stray who ventured outside the maze after dark.
Mathew still hadn’t discovered just exactly what the Old Tech his father had left him was capable of, or why the Sovereign wanted it so badly, but he did know that the Fidgets were stalking them because they wanted their Old Tech back—the Old Tech devices that the Fidgets had taken and hidden away in a secret trove in an old building near the Narrow Road, the very same devices that Kara had picked up and removed from the building as they fled from Enforcers and their harnessed tracken. One of these devices was the shield device that had saved their lives more than once when they’d used it to free the Strays from GateWide.
“What if you’re wrong, Kara?” he asked, suddenly tired of the little word game they seemed to be playing.
“Wrong about their curiosity?” Kara asked.
“No, wrong about not leaving to seek the Narrow Gate,” Mathew said.
“What if I’m not wrong, Mathew? What if helping the Strays get better is what we are supposed to do? I think that you’re just losing your faith. I think that you’re being selfish, and you are only thinking about yourself. The Strays need our help.” Her quiet voice broke with emotion, and she stopped speaking.
Mathew opened his mouth to tell her that he wasn’t being selfish. He wasn’t. But then he wondered if she was right, and closed it again. He wanted to tell her that he wasn’t just thinking of himself; he was thinking of her, too. Of her well‑being. Of how wonderful it would be to find the Narrow Gate, to see their fathers again, and to finally be safe. To finally cease worrying about Kara being caught by Enforcers if they discovered the sanctuary. To finally know that she was safe from harm. He’d seen her beaten by the Enforcers once; he did not want to see that again. But, then, that was selfish, wasn’t it? He didn’t think that he could bear to see her get punched by an Enforcer again. He didn’t think that he could stand to see her dragged before the Sovereign and tortured.
And that was selfish. She was right. He selfishly did not want to see her hurt again. And perhaps she was right about him losing his faith, too. Wasn’t he supposed to trust in the Creator’s Word? Wasn’t he supposed to have faith that they’d find the Narrow Gate by following the words that the Creator had had written in the Book?
He shook his head and remained silent. Perhaps Kara was right. Perhaps he’d learned nothing, and he was still the selfish boy he used to be.
Chapter Three
The scene was picturesque, nearly perfect in its bucolic splendor, but Gabert could not focus on the blessings in front of him. Instead, he was as miserable as if he had still been in the Mire. His eyes took in the wonders of the settlement that his companions called the Narrow Gate, but his heart could not feel the happiness that he should have felt upon seeing the legendary place. Instead, all he could feel was regret. Deep, all‑consuming regret and remorse ate at him every hour of every day, overwhelming him.
He had left his family at the mercy of the Sovereign. Even as he was surrounded by a place made perfect by the Creator’s instructions, where his companions and those few others who had managed to find the place lived in peace and harmony, treating each other with mercy, kindness, and love, he could find no respite from his misery. The Narrow Gate was all that it was said to be, but not because of the location, which he had found was not set to any one certain place but moved around as needed. No, the Narrow Gate was wondrous because the Believers, followers of the Creator, acted only according to His Word there.
They did not lie, cheat, steal, or injure others. They did not kill. They were not jealous. They were always willing to share anything they had with anyone in need: food, shelter, a helping hand. All pitched in to make the Narrow Gate a place as wonderful as it was possible to be outside of Heaven. Everyone in the Narrow Gate strived to do the right thing.
And it was this, their undying devotion to the Creator and to doing the right thing that highlighted his own flaws so brightly. Gabert could barely interact with those around him in a way that was in accordance with the Creator’s Word because his remorse was so great. His heart ached constantly with regret. He could not bear to speak to those whose sins were not as great as his own. He was too ashamed.
Not only had he selfishly left his family to suffer at the Sovereign’s hands in order to save his own pathetic life, but he had brought the orphaned children of many of his current companions to the House to serve the Sovereign as Strays. Even knowing the increasing madness of the Sovereign and the atrocities that he would be subjecting the newly orphaned Strays to, he had still dragged them off to the House to serve.
The thought of their suffering tore at him, bringing tears to his eyes as he contemplated just how much suffering he was responsible for. His failures were enormous.
He did not deserve to be at the Narrow Gate. He did not deserve to dwell there. He had no experience in doing the right thing. Unlike the others, he had not had any practice in doing the right thing in order to prepare to live amongst the Believers. Unlike his companions, he struggled with doing the right thing and with his belief in the Creator’s ultimate mercy and goodness.
Why had the Creator not struck him down when Gabert had perpetrated such heinous acts upon the innocent? Why had he not been killed sooner, before he contributed to such misery? Gabert did not know. He could not say why the Creator had let him live when he was such a failure.
Gabert had been astounded when he’d been told the true premise behind the Narrow Gate. It was not that doing the right thing brought one to the place of the Narrow Gate; it was that doing the right thing prepared one to live there and continue doing the works of the One True God. The Narrow Road was both figurative and literal. One was supposed to take the harder path and do the right thing, and the actual Narrow Road contained travails that aided new Believers in discovering how to accomplish that. And always, one from the Narrow Gate was stationed near the end of the Narrow Road. Should any new Believers accomplish the feat of completing it, they would be immediately taken to the location of the Narrow Gate.
“Gabert, are you alright?”
The softly spoken words jerked Gabert out of his miserable musings. He sniffed, turning his face away to wipe at the tear tracks upon his cheeks. He did not want the speaker to see his unmanly weakness.
His throat still clogged with regret, he found himself unable to speak, so he just nodded. And then he realized that it was an untruth, so he shook his head. No, he was not alright.
He turned to face the speaker, one of the few women who dwelled in the Narrow Gate, an elderly lady that he could not ever remember seeing in GateWide, though he had tried hard to remember her. The others had told him that her name was Therese, and that she’d been left in the wilderness by Enforcers when t
he Sovereign had declared her fit only to become fodder for the wild beasts that dwelled there.
“You will be well. This feeling will pass,” Therese murmured quietly, seeming to understand.
Gabert cleared the lump from his throat, his voice cracking as he forced words out.
“How can it pass? I am worthless. I do not belong here while others suffer.”
“There is hope. You must simply read the Word. It will comfort you,” she said, her voice soft and nonjudgmental. She was kind. She’d sought him out often in the weeks since he’d arrived, always trying to help him with his burden of regret.
But she could not. No one could absolve him of the sins that he had committed. No one.
“I’m sorry to disagree, but there is no hope. Only restitution, which I cannot pay here. I see that now. I have sinned mightily. I have caused much suffering and misery. I must make it right.”
“The Creator will forgive you. Just ask it of Him in prayer,” Therese soothed.
“No. I do not even deserve to come before Him that way. I must make amends first, Therese. I have realized it. I must go back to GateWide.”
Therese shook her head. “You will only endanger your loved ones further if you go back. That has been proven time and again. Each time one went back to retrieve their family, they were killed, as were their families.”
“I will gladly die for them, Therese.”
“But that is not required of you just yet. We are working together here on a way to free all of the oppressed in GateWide. It will not be long now until we succeed. The others have been working years toward this goal.”
“I do not think that I can wait. My family . . . Those children . . . I . . .” He could not finish. He could not confess the depths of his failures to one so kind and pure as she. She would never understand. She would see him for the filth that he was.
“You must wait, for the sake of others, Gabert. It would be a mistake to go back now. Before we lost contact with Gregory’s Old Tech, we learned that there is a traitor amongst the children in the city. That must be dealt with first, as soon as we are able to locate them. It may take a while longer than we had intended. But soon, soon the others will free all of the oppressed and all will be reunited with their families. You will see. Have faith, Gabert. Have faith in the One True God and His Way.”