Greenhouse

by Stephanie Mylchreest

  “Yes, it’s obviously important,” I agree.

  “Should we try to speak to the locksmith from the village? He might have made it.”

  “I’m not sure. It’s risky. We don’t know where his allegiance lies. What if he raises the alarm and hands us over to the elders?” I ask.

  “Even if it came to that, we could easily overpower him.”

  “Let’s leave it until after we’ve stopped the execution Rich, please.”

  “It could be important. Why else would Sally want you to give it to Marissa’s father?”

  “Please, Rich. I really don’t think we have time.”

  “I guess so,” Rich says. “Okay, let’s do this.”

  So we set off, a renewed sense of purpose driving us onwards. It doesn’t take much time to reach our village but I am conscious of the sun moving ever higher in the sky. We don’t have long to get what we need and then make our way to the pit.

  “It’s strange to be sneaking into our own village,” whispers Rich as we crouch in the thick bushes on the edge of the forest.

  We can see the whitewashed walls of our house from where we are and there is a patrol walking nearby, which I point out to Rich. We watch the patrol circle through the village: the scene looks so ordinary—two village women walking together, except for the fact that they are holding guns and hunting us.

  “Only one patrol?” asks Rich.

  “Perhaps they aren’t expecting us to come back to the village. It probably isn’t the wisest idea we have ever had.”

  “They seem distracted,” Rich says.

  The women, both from our village, are deep in conversation. Occasionally one scans the forest or looks under an obvious hiding place. But mostly they are focused on each other.

  Once the women walk past us, Rich and I sprint quickly to the nearest house. Our home is only a short distance away. We move stealthily, Rich with his gun facing forward, and me walking backwards, scanning behind us. The women come close again so we pause and fade into the shadows. They pass without incident.

  We finally reach our home and I point at the front door. Rich shakes his head and I follow him around to his bedroom window. “Cover me. Give me the signal if anyone is coming,” he says. He pulls himself over the window ledge and drops silently to the floor on the other side.

  I see the patrol coming close again so I drop on to my stomach and pull my head low behind the untamed grass growing along the log wall. The women pass again and I catch a few words of their conversation. I see one of them raise an arm and I turn in the direction she is waving. Another patrol!

  The group meets briefly in the center of the village and then separates. The women circle the perimeter of the village and the second patrol moves to the center of the village to watch for us. I can’t believe our bad luck; the window Rich has just entered is in the direct line of sight of the second patrol.

  “Rich!” I whisper.

  I whistle two times as loudly as I dare and he whistles in return. He comes to the window and whispers from below the sill.

  “What’s going on?”

  “There’s another patrol. They are in the village square. They’ll see you as you go out the window. The front door is also in sight.”

  “I’ll go out your bedroom window,” says Rich. “Circle around and meet me there.”

  I slide backwards on my stomach, pressing myself low to the ground. I take my pack off and pull it behind me as I continue to slide backwards. I raise my head a little to glance at the second patrol. The man is leaning against the village hall, looking the other way. I raise my head higher to locate the other member of the patrol—Claire, a young woman from our village.

  I scan the village and see her under a tree close by. She turns at the same moment I spot her, and our eyes meet before I can pull my head back down. For a second we stare at each other. We played together as children, shared bread. Indeed, her face is as familiar to me as the whitewashed walls of my family home. I hope that she won’t raise the alarm and I smile tentatively at her.

  My smile breaks the spell, and she yells loudly: “Over here!”

  I’m on my feet and running now. The second patrol is yelling to the women circling the perimeter and I don’t dare slow down. Rich is waiting by the window of my room. He throws me a bag full of supplies and I take his arm as he leaps down. He has another bag on his shoulder. There are other voices now. Claire’s shouts must have roused the villagers in their homes.

  Rich whistles for my attention and says: “The stream.”

  I turn and run, weaving around buildings as I race to the sanctuary of the forest. Rich has run in the other direction, towards the beach. He will circle back and meet me at the stream.

  There is gunfire and I race faster, my legs burning and heart pumping as I spring towards the line of trees in front of me. I reach the trees and risk a glance over my shoulder. There is a group in pursuit. I know most of them, but I don’t recognize the anger on their faces or the guns they point at me so easily. I pray as I run. I pray for Rich’s safety, and for my own. Not because I value my own life. I must stay alive to save Delphine and Mother.

  I am deeper in the forest now and stop behind a large fallen tree. I’ve spent hour upon hour here, foraging with my mother. I can move through the unforgiving terrain quickly and do so without detection. My heart is pounding like a drum in my chest but I am safe for the moment.

  The group is coming closer. They are spreading out now, trying to maximize their reach in the shadows of the forest.

  I circle around the group slowly and silently towards the stream where Rich and I are to meet. I can see Claire moving noisily through the bracken. She seems agitated and frightened. I wonder if she is frightened of me.

  I reach the stream before Rich and take a seat near the water. My mother used to say: “That water Chris, it’s in no hurry; it takes its time and always gets to where it is supposed to be”. I watch the small stream twist and turn and try to focus on my goal, what needs to be done. I will save Delphine.

  I open the bag that Rich passed through the window and see he packed some food and several containers of gunpowder for tonight. I open one parcel wrapped in cloth and find a loaf of fresh bread. In another cloth-bound parcel is a wedge of cheese, and there are some hard pears at the bottom of the bag. I tear off a piece of bread and stuff it with cheese. It tastes wonderful.

  As I’m eating, Rich whistles and I return it immediately. He is limping again as he approaches but brushes me off when I ask to examine his wound, telling me his leg is just a little sore from the hard run from the village.

  “Did they follow you?” I ask.

  “They did, but I lost them easily. They don’t know the forest like we do.” I hand Rich some bread and cheese. “I’ve got more food in my bag,” he says, “and some ammunition and medical supplies. I had to be quick so I hope I got everything we need for tonight.”

  “Thanks Rich. It’s a shame we didn’t get the chance to find the locksmith and ask him about the key.”

  “It’s fine. I think you were right not to look for him. I’m glad we made it out okay. It was a close thing there for a minute.”

  I look up and see that the sun is now high in the sky. Rich follows my gaze. We both know that time is against us. We need to make our way to the pit soon so we can be there before the planned execution. The sun seems to move so quickly. I want to freeze it and hold it in place until we get to Delphine.

  “What do you suppose the others are doing?” I ask.

  “Perhaps they are looking for us. Marissa’s mother might have been in the group chasing after me. It must be hard for them to pretend to be working with the elders.”

  “Do you think so? What we are going through is much harder,” I say.

  Rich shrugs. “At least we already know everyone is after us. Imagine worrying you will constantly be found out. I was like that after you left for the mainland, until they put me in the pit.”

  “I’m sorry, Rich. I
wish you didn’t have to go through that.” I fall silent for a few moments. “Did I make a mistake going to the mainland?”

  “This place was already rotting from the inside out,” says Rich. He stares at the stream as he speaks. “Inevitably, someone was going to realize that the elders lied to us. In some ways I’m glad it was us that found out the truth. I would rather know the truth than live my life according to lies concocted by the elders.”

  We take a few moments to appreciate Rich’s sentiment and the stream moving slowly before us.

  I touch Rich’s arm, “It’s time to go.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Rich pours gunpowder into a small metal container and stuffs a handful of soft cotton on top until the container is packed tight. He pierces a hole in the lid and feeds saltpeter infused twine through the hole and makes sure it is in contact with the gunpowder. He then closes the lid and puts the container beside four others he previously prepared. Then he carefully trims the twine from each container to about the length of a finger. “A two-minute surprise,” he says as he loads them into his pack.

  It’s almost sundown. We have scouted the area around the pit and by our count, there are five patrols sweeping the area. One of the patrol members is Philip Parson, Marissa’s father. Rich thinks we can count on him to support us if need be. We are massively outnumbered but we are hoping our diversion works to draw most of the patrols away.

  My whole body is coiled tightly like a spring. The consequences of our failure would be catastrophic. I won’t let Delphine die. I won’t let Delphine die. I repeat my mantra to myself over and over.

  From our hiding place in the thick foliage of a tall fig tree we observe Elder Spool speaking to our father by the entrance to the pit. Rich raises his gun next to me, pointing it at our father. I can sense the tension in his body. I speak slowly and calmly, putting my hand on top of his gun. I lower it back towards the ground: “We can’t kill him, not yet Rich.”

  “I want him dead,” Rich whispers back. He keeps the gun trained on our father until the two men disappear into the depths of the pit. Our mother and Delphine are still down there, somewhere, in the darkness.

  As we continue to watch the area around the pit, I double-check that my shotgun and the spare gun Rich brought for me are both fully loaded. I have extra ammunition in my pocket. I’m ready for this battle.

  My eyes settle for a moment on the large wooden cross that has been erected close to the fire. The post stands taller than the tallest man, with a crosspiece fixed about a cubit and a half from the top. Its presence is ominous.

  The sun is now low on the horizon and Rich tells me he will set up our explosive devices. He drops effortlessly from the tree and moves silently through the forest until he disappears from sight.

  Moments later the door to the pit swings open. Through the door is a deep blackness I remember vividly from my rescue mission a couple of days ago. I aim my shotgun at the open door. My father and Elder Spool emerge from the darkness with Delphine. They each hold one of her arms. She appears subdued and offers little resistance as they escort her from the pit.

  The fire continues to burn in the center of the clearing. The flames have been stoked and are now blazing powerfully, reaching high in the night sky. The bright light of the fire illuminates Delphine’s fearful expression as they pass. When Delphine sees they are leading her to the cross, she lets out a high-pitched keening that cuts through the air. If Delphine weren’t so close to them, I would shoot Elder Spool and my father without hesitation.

  Delphine digs her heels into the ground, her legs stiff, as my father and Elder Spool continue to drag her towards the cross. Three patrols stand nearby watching the scene unfold. Two other patrols continue to sweep the perimeter of the clearing. I lose sight of them and I take a moment to locate them.

  When I turn back to the clearing, I’m startled to see another man has silently arrived. He wears long black robes and leans casually against the cross, waiting for Delphine.

  Elder Spool yells something I can’t make out to the patrols and they recommence patrolling the clearing. There are now four patrols in the clearing, prepared to defend against any intruders that enter from the forest. I see the fifth patrol heading away from the clearing, deeper into the forest. This makes me worry. I pray that Rich doesn’t encounter them unexpectedly.

  I’m horrified as Elder Spool and my father drag Delphine to the cross and hold her while the man in black robes binds her arms to the crosspiece. Delphine cries out softly as the binding is tightened. Then she is silent. Strung up against the cross before the raging fire, she seems resigned to her fate.

  Elder Spool and my father move away and the man in black robes walks twenty cubits from Delphine and pulls out his gun. I aim my shotgun at the back of his head. Everything seems to happen in slow motion. I watch as the black-robed man paces back and forth. I study his every blink, his every twitch.

  I know Rich is somewhere close by. I know he is waiting for the right moment to set off the first explosive. I will move the instant there is any sign that the execution is imminent, regardless of what Rich is doing. For now, though, I will wait, my eyes on the man in black robes.

  A few moments later I hear horses approaching and see a group of elders arrive at the clearing. They tether their horses to a wooden rail by the entrance to the pit. The elders join my father and Spool by the fire. I used to revere these men. Now they disgust me.

  Even though I have been waiting for it, the first explosion takes me by surprise. A loud blast reverberates through the forest and between the trees. There is a brilliant flash and then a plume of blue smoke streams into the sky. Everyone in the clearing freezes and turns towards the explosion.

  The silence lasts mere moments before the clearing erupts like a dropped hornets’ nest. Men are running in all directions, no longer working in pairs or any kind of formation. There are more explosions. Some elders run towards their horses and ride out of the clearing, but my father and a few others remain, drawing their guns. My body is tense. My mind is clear. I’m ready.

  The few remaining patrol members run into the forest. My father, Spool and two elders are standing in a defensive circle, their guns pointed out. “Do it! Do it!” My father yells to the man in black robes waiting to execute Delphine. The man lifts his gun so I shoot and he drops to the ground. I don’t know if I got him so I keep my gun trained on his back. If he moves, I will blast him again.

  Delphine is still tied to the cross and her face is obscured from my view by the blue smoke that now drifts through the clearing. A fourth explosion goes off and then a fifth in rapid succession. There is gunfire from the forest. I pray that Rich is unhurt.

  Suddenly the man in black robes is on his knees. I fire again and he cries out in pain. But then he swings around towards me and returns fire. The elders follow his lead and fire at me too. I take cover behind a fallen tree and pull out the spare gun as lead shot shreds the leaves above my head. Startled, I crawl a short distance backwards.

  The next time I swing out to take a shot, I try to see Delphine. She is no longer tied to the wooden cross! Rich must have got close enough to untie her. I don’t dare contemplate any other possibility. Another shot rings out and I pull back behind the tree.

  I take a moment to calm my ragged breathing. My mind is racing. Loud shouts echo through the forest and the gunshots are unremitting. I raise my head above the fallen log and fire several more times into the clearing.

  Without warning, there is a strong arm wrapped tightly around my neck and a pistol pressed against my head. I try to shake them off but whoever has caught me is bigger and heavier. The pressure on my neck increases until I can barely breathe. “Drop the gun,” a voice barks in my ear. I let go of the gun and it’s pulled roughly away.

  I turn to face my captor; it’s Philip Parson, Marissa’s father. With him is his patrol partner. Philip Parson’s lined face is straining from the exertion of trying to contain me. I am light-headed from the press
ure around my throat but gasp out a few words: “I thought you were with us.” Philip ignores me and pushes me down to the ground. I land with a heavy thud. Wet earth and rotting leaf matter press against my face.

  Philip’s patrol partner hauls me up on my feet and the two men each grab one of my arms. I struggle and try to break free but their grip on me is fierce and they practically carry me through the forest towards the pit. I realize that the air is quiet. I no longer notice any gunfire. The chaos of the moment is gone.

  We failed.

  As the two men pull me into the clearing, my father and the elders are standing together. There is a haze of blue smoke in the air. “We’ve got him,” calls Philip. I can see the sneer on Elder Spool’s face.

  “Was there anyone with him?” asks my father. “What about my other son?”

  “There was no one else,” says Philip’s partner.

  “I was working alone,” I say.

  “What did he say?” asks Spool. He smooths back his long hair. His voice is even but there is an edge of menace to it.

  “I was working alone,” I say, louder this time.

  One elders says: “You expect us to believe you?” and the group breaks out arguing. Some want to kill me immediately. One elder demands to know what happened to Delphine. I scowl at him and Philip strikes me on the head with the butt of his pistol. I wish a thousand, painful deaths upon Philip Parson. I can only hope that Rich warns the others of his betrayal.

  “I want to know what he knows,” says my father evenly. “I have no loyalty to him because he is my son. But I want to know who else is behind this attack before you deal with him. Someone must have warned him of Delphine’s execution. There are those among us who seek our undoing. We need to know. We need names. If we shoot him now, we have little hope of uncovering those who want to terrorize our peaceful community.” I glance up to see the elders nod their agreement.

  “Put him in the pit for now,” says Spool. “We will reconvene with the others and decide what to do.” I assume he is referring to the elders who ran away when the explosions started. His disgust is thinly veiled.