by Jen Guberman
Closing Zane’s door behind me, I made a quick trip to my room to pack my bag. I stuffed the photo of my dad and me into the bag, along with my money, some clothes, my blanket, the ring from Fabian, and the bracelet from Zane, but I kept my knife in my pocket. Food and water might be a problem. Patting my pockets with my hands, I remembered the paperclips I took from Zane’s room and instantly had an idea.
I hid between two of the buildings outside, waiting until the town center had cleared. When I knew I was finally alone, I made my way to the dining hall. I squatted down at the door and fidgeted with a couple paperclips for a minute, making them into simple lock picks before pushing them into the lock of the door, wiggling them around. Nothing. I bent the paperclips a little more and tried again. Still nothing. Growing frustrated, I jammed the paperclips into the lock one more time and shook them impatiently. Click.
Proud of myself, I smirked as I hurried into the dining hall and closed the door behind me, running to the locked pantry. I repeated the same motions with the paperclip at the pantry lock, unlocking it significantly faster than I had the main door. When I opened it, my eyes were filled with the glorious sight of the small room full of large wooden shelves stacked to the ceiling with food. I thought back to what Jackson said about breaking into the pantry, and to the mousy boy, hoping I would make it out without crossing Jackson’s path. I looked around the room. In a labeled package on the ground were some disposable water bottles from the city’s shipment to the exile towns. I shoved a few bottles in my bag, as well as a handful of various vegetables from a shelf, a loaf of bread, and a cup of what looked like chocolate pudding.
The second I closed my bag, it struck me that I had no idea how to even get out of Avid. I remember when Jackson showed me the gardens, he mentioned something about a fence, but he said it was too high to climb. Then again, he didn’t say anything about digging.
I sprinted out of the cafeteria and towards the gardens. It was fairly dark at this point, but the combined glow of the lights from the windows of the buildings illuminated the general area. I bolted down the dirt trail, hearing nothing but my own rapid breaths and the grinding of dirt under my feet. From inside the shelter of the circle of trees, I sat to catch my breath, plucking a couple of small tomatoes to munch on and stuffing a few extra vegetables in my bag as well. Now to look for the wall.
Figuring I was bound to hit the wall if I continued in one direction long enough, I wedged my way between a few of the trees at the end of the garden. Oh. The wall was literally right behind the trees.
I dropped down into a squat to examine the dirt, and feeling how dense and almost rock-hard it was near the base. At that, I abandoned the plan to dig underneath the wall. I gazed around the area, hoping for inspiration, only to see it nearly surrounding me—the trees. Jackson said a person would be stupid to try to climb the wall. Who’s stupid now, I thought smugly as I jumped toward the lowest, nearest branch, catching hold of it. Pulling with all of my strength, I tried to hoist myself onto the branch, only to slide off, gaining a few splinters on the way down. I swore under my breath. Now what? Deciding it was worth at least another try, I squatted down and pushed up in a jump as hard as I could, arms stretched upward. Again, I managed to hang from the branch with nothing more than a futile attempt at pulling myself up. Clearly, I wasn’t as strong as I thought I was.
I stepped backwards a few yards, took a deep breath, and ran at the tree as fast as I could—strength I may not have, but speed is another story. Just as I neared the tree, I leapt at the branch, using the momentum from my sprint to swing my leg over. Straddling the tree branch, I let out an exhausted giggle as I hugged it tight. I can do this. I sighed as I looked up to the next branch, which wasn’t terribly far from my current one. Placing my feet flat on the branch, I steadied myself as I slowly released my grasp on the branch. I smiled, a sense of newfound independence and freedom beginning to overwhelm me. Trusting myself, I pushed off in a light hop toward the next branch. My bare palms ached as they met the rough bark.
With my arms looped around the branch, I pushed my feet against the trunk, using it to help my feet up to the branch. I continued this method until I had scaled about halfway up the towering tree, where I was finally able to see over the wall. From my perch, I looked out at what appeared to be an endless wasteland. There was a vast scape of sand, only broken up by the scattered blackened frames of buildings and patches of ash.
I pulled myself carefully along the branch as far as it would allow before it began to bend beneath my weight, and even then, the wall was still a few feet away from my grasp. There’s no turning back, I whispered, collecting every scrap of courage I had. Once again, I steadied my feet on the branch, taking my hands from the tree gently. I stretched my arms out to my sides for balance, orienting my body toward the wall. I inhaled slowly, the world around me silent as I jumped.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I felt like I was flying—soaring away from the confines of Avid. The freeing moment didn’t last long, however, as my chest collided with the tall cement brick wall, forcing the air from my lungs as I moaned in pain.
My legs dangled over the edge of the wall toward the garden as I squirmed my way into a sitting position, straddling the wall—one half of me in Avid, one half of me in an entirely new place. I flung my other leg over the wall and tried to steady myself as I lowered myself backwards down the wall, eventually letting myself fall. There was still a long distance to fall, but the sand was softer on the other side of the wall. As my feet hit the sand, it sank a bit beneath me, causing my ankle to roll, making me stumble and fall on my back. After a moment to catch my breath and calm down, I sighed in relief as I lay there in the warm sand for a minute.
Warmth radiated off of the soft sand, cooled by a gentle breeze that blew away the top layer of sand. I closed my eyes, surrounded by the peace of the moment. I should probably get going. I checked myself for injuries, finding none, and then I stood up, brushing the sand from my coat. I remember learning at school that only deserts used to have sand like The New Territory, but over the years, more areas turned to dust, leaving behind the sandy wasteland such as where I found myself at this point.
I pulled Zane’s map from my bag, turning it to get a better perspective on my current location. It looked like, from where I had crossed the wall, I was closer to Delaisse than before. I decided to continue in the same direction, starting my trek in the sand.
A couple hours into the journey, seeing nothing but small pockets of ruined towns and cities among the endless sand, I neared what looked like the remnants of a small village. There were small, crumbling brick houses with charred pieces of sofas, kitchen tables, and ovens. Nothing was intact. I stepped over blackened wood and brick, brushing the ash off of a small section of the remnants of some foundation. I sat down, pulling a carrot from my bag for a snack. After I finished the carrot, I sat, running my fingers through a large mound of ash, feeling the small flakes sift through my fingers. I felt something smooth but solid beneath the ashes. I turned, sticking both of my hands into the pile. I cleared away some of the ash and pulled out a human jawbone.
I shrieked, dropping the jawbone immediately, ashes spraying out from where it fell. Then, I heard a distant voice. I jumped, surprised to hear another person in the ruins. Unable to make out what the voice was saying, I decided to keep walking, taking quick, nervous steps, sure to keep away from the source of the voice.
As I walked along the far edge of the ruins, the sound of the burnt remnants crunched under my feet. The sound of cracking wood and stone with every step was interrupted by a loud shout.
“Found one!” a raspy voice yelled.
Looking to my right, I saw a thin old man in a woolen trench coat. He had a deep scar across his brow, wispy shoulder-length white hair, and his frail body was leaning on a dirty and chipping wooden cane. His dark, sunken eyes locked on mine, almost apologetically before he grinned, revealing a partial set of rotting teeth. He pointed a bony finger at m
e shakily.
“Catch her!” he commanded an attractive younger man.
Before the words even escaped his mouth, I was running, kicking up sand behind me as I tried to maintain a steady footing. My hair whipped around my head as I flew around the corner of a partial brick wall, I continued to make sharp turns throughout the ruins in hopes of confusing the young man. He was a tall, muscular figure with dark hair, keeping close to me in the chase like a cheetah on a gazelle.
The man turned the same corner, grabbing at the bottom of my long coat, which was trailing out behind me. He tugged at the black fabric and sent my body slamming into the ground, shooting loose sand into the air as I fell. I scrambled to get to my feet, but was shoved down by the man. He proceeded to pin my right arm down with one of his oversized work boots. I stretched my free arm out to claw at him, but he swatted, grabbing it and rendering it motionless as he held it. I flailed in vain, kicking my legs wildly while screaming profanity at the man.
“I got her!” he yelled, struggling to hold me down.
Just then, I pulled one of my knees up swiftly between his legs. He swore, his hands instinctively grabbing at his crotch as he knelt forward, still pinning me down with his weight. I began throwing my arms around, trying to wiggle lose. In the midst of my thrashing, I remembered my grandpa’s pocketknife. I pulled it from my coat, flicking out the blade and jamming it into my assailant’s shoulder, the easiest target I could hit at the time. He cursed loudly at me, grabbing for his bleeding shoulder. I withdrew the knife quickly as I scrambled away, leaving him reeling in pain.
Breathless, I dropped to the floor against the interior wall of a nearby old building, right into a heap of blackened scraps. I threw the hood of my jacket over the back of my head, tucking all of my blonde and black hair inside it. I curled into a tight ball amid the pieces and pulled what remains I could across my body, camouflaging myself in debris and darkness. I was unable to see anything aside from the ashy pieces of building I threw myself into as I heard quick footsteps turn the corner.
The thudding of his feet across the room slowed as he tried to decide which way to continue. He swore angrily in defeat, kicking something that flew into my back. I bit my lip, holding back a yelp.
“Where’s the girl?” The older man growled as he entered the room.
“She stabbed me!”
“Where’d she go?”
“Uncle, doesn’t it bother you that I was stabbed?” the younger man said breathily in disbelief.
“Of course it bothers me, but you know we need every bit of money we can get from turning in run-aways! This is the only way we can afford to put food on the table, and you let one escape!”
“But we already caught one today! The spikey-haired Avid boy who bit me!” the nephew argued. Zane, I thought. He didn’t make it to Delaisse, but he has the Avid key.
“I was going to use this one to pay my debt to Mr. Courton,” the uncle began as the two left, their voices drawing faint. When the two were hardly within earshot, I emerged from my hiding place, shaking and brushing off the ash and soot. I have to get the Avid key, so I have to find Zane.
I treaded lightly through the ruins and the soft sand, following the sound of the two men bickering, allowing a safe distance between them and my location so as not to be detected. It continued like this for about an hour, and the sun began to set while I followed them through various ruins until we neared a beautifully intricate gate made of steel, twisted into complexly woven vines, with delicate roses coated in silver. At the center of the gate was the name “Nortown” twisted into the metal—the smallest of the remaining cities. When the men reached the gate, I darted behind a parked truck, squatting and peering out from behind the back tire as the gate swung open. From my spot, I could see two other men, pacing outside of the gate, chatting casually. I waited for a moment as they began to walk past the entrance, their backs toward my path. Once the uncle and nephew were well within the gate, and the guards were far enough past it, I took off sprinting toward the entrance. The gate had almost shut completely just as my body cleared the gap. My right foot, however, got caught on the closing gate, tripping me and sending me face-forward into the sand.
Spitting out sand, I propped myself up so I was on all fours, slumping my head over, sand spilling out of my hood. I groaned, looking backward and realizing that my foot may have made it through the gate, but the same couldn’t be said for my right boot. Aggravated, I got up and hobbled to the gate, stretching my arm through the metal vines, pawing for my shoe. I hooked a finger through one of the laces and dragged it to my side of the gate.
Once I stood straight, I got a look at the city for the first time. Similar to Rockhallow, Nortown consisted of small-scale buildings, primarily family houses. The city hall was clearly visible, seated in the middle of the tiny city center, its tan roof a large dome, elevated distinctly higher than the surrounding buildings. I don’t belong here, I had to remind myself as I made my way cautiously down the streets. I can’t let anybody notice me. I kept hunched over, my eyes scanning for the uncle and nephew from the ruins. I figured Zane would be somewhere in the city hall, under some degree of supervision, so I was carefully watching for officials as well.
I approached the city hall, the moon and the streetlights illuminating the streets in a dim white glow. When I stopped in front of the large building, I pulled up my hood, tugging it low enough to shade some of my face from the light. I took my knife out and rolled it around in my palm a few times before flicking the blade out. I can’t hurt anyone. I just have to scare them.
Confident, I marched up to the front doors of the city hall, dropped to my knees, and unlocked the doors with some of the paperclips I stole from Zane’s room. Pulling the heavy doors open, I disappeared into the darkened building. After a few wrong turns, I found myself in the basement of the city hall, in a corridor full of locked doors with small windows. Peering through each door’s window on my way down the hall, I turned the corner into a similar hallway. I spotted a large man with a thick vest on, sitting on a weak looking metal chair in front of one of the doorways, his back turned slightly away from my direction. I scanned his figure for weapons and didn’t notice any. That has to be where they’re keeping Zane, I thought as my eyes narrowed, locking on the man.
I took long, swift, gentle steps across the charcoal colored tile, the tapping of my feet masked by the buzzing of a single flickering light in the hallway. The dying light sent the hallway into flashes of complete darkness, making my approach even more sudden as I slipped the knife just a hair in front of the man’s neck. I dropped to eye-level, my pale green eyes half covered by the top of my hood. I grinned at the man.
“Open the door,” I whispered, over annunciating every syllable.
“You aren’t supposed to be here,” the man warned, his voice deep.
“Pity,” I said, tilting my head and glancing at my knife under his chin briefly before locking eyes with him again. I hoped he wasn’t going to catch my bluff as I grew shakier, realizing it was too late to run.
The man squinted his eyes, focusing on mine for a moment, testing me, before he slowly raised his empty hands in the air. I withdrew the knife and stepped backwards a safe distance and the man slowly reached for a large key ring attached to his belt, his eyes never looking away from me. He’s scared of me, I realized. A part of me felt uncomfortable at the thought of making this man fear for his life, after all, he was just doing his job. He unlocked the door and stepped to the side, motioning for me to enter the unlocked room.
“Leave,” I hissed.
Without hesitation, the man took off down the hallway and vanished around the corner. I wasn’t a fool though; I knew he was going to report me, so I had to act fast. I pushed down on the handle and pulled the door open, and just then I was knocked onto my back and everything went black.
CHAPTER TWELVE
My eyes blinked open slowly, my vision a bit hazy, no thanks to the still flickering light of the hallway. My he
ad was pounding. I groaned, trying to sit up.
“E, I am so sorry!” came a voice.
“Zane?” I called groggily.
“Yeah, it’s me. I thought you were the guard, and I had it all planned out to throw myself into him to knock him out the next time he opened my door, but instead I attacked you, and you sorta’ fell, and you hit your head on the chair, and I feel terrible… You were trying to bust me out—” he babbled apologetically.
“Don’t worry about it,” I grunted, running my hand over a bump in the back of my head.
“Take it easy, E, you hit your head pretty bad,” he said, lurching forward to steady me with a look of concern in his dark eyes.
“I’m fine,” I mumbled, working my way to my feet. As I stumbled, Zane put an arm around my waist, sending a warm, foreign shiver down my spine. I smiled at Zane awkwardly, and he laughed.
“What’s so funny?” I frowned.
“Nothing! I’m sorry. It’s just… you have a little blood on your teeth, and when you smiled… that and your messy hair, and the fact that you’re stumbling… You look a bit psychotic. It’s kinda’ hot,” he smirked.
I felt around in my mouth with my tongue, realizing I must have bit my tongue during my fall. I sighed at him, irritated at first, but then I let out an amused huff.
“You have wonderful manners,” I started, “for a thief and a jerk.”
“A jerk?” he questioned playfully as he picked through a basket with his name on it near the cell door, pulling out his belongings.