Текст книги "The Wall"

Автор книги: Lauren Nicolle Taylor

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“What?” I didn’t know exactly what a tiger was but by the roar and the scream that followed, I knew it must be dangerous. Careen was gripping her rifle hard, turning her knuckles white. I looked at them both, pleading with my eyes. “Please. You can’t go out there, neither of you can.”

Joseph glanced at me briefly. He relaxed his tense shoulders, bringing them down in a jerky movement like he was trying to convince himself not to be angry. If he was going to explain, or try to make me feel better, he decided against it.

“Barricade the door,” he yelled as he stormed out, following Careen. A pair of perfect-looking, perfect idiots. I was furious, my thoughts harried and weakening. What was he trying to prove? I dragged a chair over and jammed it under the door. I then started my nervous pacing around the room, every now and then peeking out the window.

I couldn’t see anything and apart from the initial scream, there was no sound. I tapped the glass nervously with my newly grown back nails.

Click, click, click.

Grabbing the torch, I scanned the backyard, then went to the front yard and did the same. The thin stream of light barely managed to harass the darkness out of the way so I could see one snippet of a scene. I did this for about half an hour, gripping Orry close and trying to breathe. As I walked, I got angrier and angrier, feeling flames wrapping around me and heating my temper. If he wasn’t dead, I was going to kill him.

On my rounds of poking the torch out the window, something flagged in the corner of the small shaft of light. A paw. It stopped dead in the torchlight like it was a solid barrier. The creature was a still as stone but in the cold I could see mist floating away from its muzzle. I moved the torch inch by inch over its body as slowly as I could, the light shaking and dancing with the trembling of my hands.

It was the strangest creature I had seen yet. Its flame-orange fur pooled in its chest and then fanned out in a diluted white and orange spray. Along its back, black stripes ran like jagged scratches, hugging its ribcage. The black and orange markings spread all the way down to a fluffy, long tail that was only slightly shifting under the light. It was enormous.

It had been facing forward up until now, its long body pointing towards the other homes, its face focused on something further away. I flicked the torch light behind it, discovering several other paws, under several other tall, muscular creatures. There were five of them. When I came back to the leader, it turned and seemed to be looking directly at me. My heart stopped. I swear its ears reacted to the change in my heartbeat. It knew there was blood flowing through my veins. I could feel it pumping hard and inviting this terrible creature closer.

It opened its mouth wide and I could see the damaging fangs. It didn’t roar—it yawned. Had it had its fill? The idea made me feel sick. That man, that poor man.

A shot cracked open the silence and the animal started running. I held my breath as they turned and ran through the gap between our house and our neighbors. They went file like foot soldiers in ineffectual camouflage. My gaze connected with the man that lived next door, his eyes unblinking and wide with fear in the window across from ours.

They padded through noiselessly, a whisk of orange and white blur, and they were gone.

The entire house shuddered in relief. But I couldn’t un-see that scene. Now I knew they were out there.

The door rattled and I jumped. Fervent knocking startled me to action. No animal was going to politely knock at the door. I let out a hysterical laugh at the thought of it. ‘Excuse me, would you mind terribly if I came in and ate you?’

“Rosa, open up.” Joseph’s voice was ragged. I knew he had to be alive. Somehow, I thought I would have to feel something if he were really in trouble.

I opened the door and several men pushed past me, dragging what I assume used to be a person under what was left of his arms. I gagged involuntarily.

They laid him down. He stared at the ceiling, a barely audible whimper coming from his bluish lips. How he was alive, I’ll never know. I wondered whether will took over at that point. His body was devastated. There were parts of him that didn’t look human, straggly streams of torn flesh attached to his body, or protruded out of his shredded pant leg. Anyone could tell he was a dead man. He must have been hanging on to life by sheer force of will.

Let go, I thought.

The men stood around him in a broken semi-circle, bewildered looks on their faces, gripping their guns like they were teddy bears.

I watched Joseph calmly and methodically move around his patient, wrapping up his wounds, compressing bleeders. All the while, talking to the man in reassuring whispers. It gave me insight into what he was capable of, his talent and his strength. If it was possible, it made me love him more.

He looked up, his eyes piercing and focused. “Has anyone called the hospital?”

One of the men stepped forward. “He won’t survive.”

Joseph’s broad back shivered. The acceptance was in his face but when he looked at the man, he spoke comforting words.

Joseph put his hand to his forehead like he was trying to read something in his head. He rolled up a jacket and placed it under the man’s head. Reaching into his small medical bag, he pulled out a syringe, loading it with clear fluid.

“For the pain,” he said.

The man took his one good arm and crawled it to his chest with his fingertips, finding the pledge charm and gripping it tightly. His dark face was going grey as the blood drained from his body.

I kneeled down at his head, trying not to look at the rest of him, just his face. His eyes rolled around but when he found mine, they locked onto them. “Marina? Marina,” he gurgled, blood pooling in his mouth.

I nodded. I would be Marina. I stroked his hair

He stared at me and I could see a smile crossing his lips as he breathed out once and never breathed back in.

It took the men, Careen, and I a couple of hours to clean up the blood. I made them cups of tea and tried to keep them in the house but they were anxious to get back out there. They wanted to make sure everyone was safe and then report to the town leaders.

Joseph was in shock. After his efforts, he’d collapsed in a chair and hadn’t moved since. His face was pale, with his shirt rolled up to his elbows and crusted with blood. His eyes stared vacantly off into space.

After everyone left and Orry was settled, I turned my attention to Joseph. He was shaking a little, a dark look on his face. I tugged his sleeves down over his wrists, running my finger along the old, scooped-out scar on his forearm. I gently pulled the blood-soaked shirt over his head and tried to put a new one on.

He grabbed both my wrists tightly and shook me once. He stared at me intensely, his green eyes swirling and slightly wild.

“Just leave it,” he whispered almost angrily and pulled me into his arms roughly. I balled the shirt into my fist and threw it on the floor.

I curled up in his lap and pressed my ear to his chest, listening to his heart beating so fast I thought it would wear out. I slowly moved my hand in circles across his skin until his breathing slowed. We fell asleep in the chair. Both reminded that we were not protected and that even though we were in a house, this was the wilderness. We were prey.

The day after our encounter with the tigers, we were summoned to a meeting at the movie theater. Although to me, it seemed more like we had walked into the middle of an argument. I wondered if this was how they ran things? It almost made me miss the rigid order of the Superiors. At least they just got on with things. These people were talking in circles.

Five people sat on the stage behind a low desk covered by a frayed tablecloth. A podium was set up facing them, where people were taking turns addressing the leaders. It was a mess of yelling, swearing, and heated emotions. What I could gather was people were upset about the tigers and they were thinking of moving the ‘plan’ date forward. It felt like I’d flipped open to the middle of a book. I could read the words, get a sense of the action, but had no idea why they were doing what they were doing. As they talked though, things started to clear.

“We’re not safe here,” a man with ash-blond hair shouted, brandishing his fist in the air.

“Calm down, everyone. I’ll admit that what happened was a horrible tragedy, but we all know not to go out at night. Feliks knew that too.”

A woman piped up, “Maybe we should go ahead with the plans, you know, the ones we’ve been talking about for years. Maybe this is the motivation we need.” She glanced sideways at me. I shrunk away. What did they want with me?

“Let’s think about this logically. We have few weapons and no choppers. Our numbers are small. It’s not the right time,” a man on the stage said calmly.

“What about the Spiders?” a woman yelled. I noticed it was Gwen. Her eyes fierce, she seemed ready to storm the concrete walls of the Woodlands right then and there.

I was lost. I turned to Cal to ask but then felt an arm link with mine. My first reaction was to shake it off. It was too familiar, that was Clara’s place. The arm felt like crinkled paper and I knew it was Addy.

People obviously knew what Gwen was talking about because the emotions in the room raised higher, voices and heated breath pushing the roof off the place.

“What’s a Spider?” I whispered to Addy.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. I felt like saying, Get on with it, old woman. Every time she spoke it was an ordeal, like it took too much energy to open her mouth at all. “Spiders are our people on the inside. They live in the Rings and feed us information about what’s going on in there.”

The name dawned on me… like the spider that had nearly killed Joseph. These people would have to be invisible, part of the rings, unnoticeable. Clever.

One of the leaders spoke again, trying to regain some order. “Look! The Spiders have reported unease amongst the people. They have now announced that no children will be born after a certain date. They have provided contraception and have already started their usual pattern of selecting out examples to punish. The Superiors do seem to be plotting something. They are pulling more children into the Classes and training most of them as soldiers. Of course, this doesn’t sound good. But they seem to have a timeframe in mind. They are waiting for winter to end before they move. As far as we know, they are still unaware of our location. We have time. We need to keep gathering intel and find out what else the Superiors know.”

The room swayed and swirled with hundreds of voices. Some angry, some scared. Most just trying to understand what she had just said—me especially.

A man on the panel coughed and said finitely, “We’ll step up patrols of the wall border but no more talk of takeovers. We’re not ready.”

Takeovers? The idea filled me with equal measures of hope and fear. They couldn’t possibly, could they? If they could free the people… my mind started wandering. I could see my mother, Rash, Henri. But what if the people didn’t want to be freed? My thoughts turned to Paulo. Someone I hadn’t really allowed into my head since I’d left. Freedom was a hot coal in his hands; he’d sooner fling it back over the wall. I couldn’t imagine the people in Pau staging an uprising. They were too beaten down, too scared. I had an idea where the Survivors could start, though, to get those numbers they needed—Clara’s hometown, Palma.

The idea of a Woodlands without the dark shadow of the Superiors hovering over it was an attractive idea, dangerous, but deliciously enticing. I knew if they wanted to do it, I wanted to be part of it. I needed to be.

Someone yelled out, “Has no one thought about the nursery? All those innocent children, those teenage mothers. We have to help them.” At this statement, I nearly fell over. So it was nurseries they had decided upon. When Alexei had first brought it up, when I escaped the Woodlands, he’d said they hadn’t decided whether they would raise the babies in big nurseries or billet them out to childless couples. My stomach turned. That could have been Orry and Hessa.

“We will help them. These things take time and planning. Let’s vote and then get on to what we are really here for,” a man with dark hair pulled into a plait at the nape of his neck said as he found us in the crowd and smiled. I started. Was this an ambush?

“All in favor of holding off on the plans for the Woodlands, raise your hand.”

The crowd shuffled then two thirds of them raised their hands. Did I get a vote?

Joseph raised his hand with the majority. The same man with the plait looked down at us and said, “Not yet, young man. You are not pledged.”

I knew very quickly, and so certainly, that I was surprised at myself. I was ready to take the pledge. I wanted a say. I wanted to be part of this community, to protect it and perhaps help it spread to my old home.

“So it is decided. Now, will the young couple who so bravely and kindly helped Feliks in his final hours please step onto the stage.”

I found myself leading Joseph, eagerly wanting that charm around my neck.

It wasn’t really a ceremony. It was too casual for that but it had weight to it. I felt the sense of history I was being welcomed into. This would be our home, our people, and I was pleased with that.

The man placed the necklaces in each of our palms.

“Do you know the pledge?”

We nodded.

We spoke separately. I went first. I let the words roll around in my mouth, making sure I really believed them. Realizing, of course, I did.

I am a survivor. I live beyond the wall. I give shelter to those that need it. I am n ot chosen but I choose to live.

It was done. And as I scanned the crowd, I saw Deshi, Apella, and Alexei smiling at us from the back of the crowd, their new necklaces shining under the warm theater lights. I needed to talk to them, find out what they thought about this idea of storming the Woodlands. Without a very thorough plan, it would be suicide.

The weeks had rolled by like the rolling hills I saw when I looked out my window. The white was less than the green, the scales tipping. Winter was receding and I could see the changes, in the land and in the people. My people. I never thought I would belong anywhere. In fact, I was sure of it. But now I belonged to a place, a person, and a family.

The sense I got from these people was that they were independent but chose to be around each other. No one was forced. They were encouraged. I probably needed more encouragement than most. Trust was hard for me. It always would be.

Now that we had made our choices and our pledge, we were left to our own devices. Our home was taking shape slowly as I started receiving payment for my work. A small pile of salvaged toys had accumulated in the corner. Toys were another fairly foreign thing to us. Joseph said I should make a box to put them in until Orry was old enough to play with them.

They had tracked the pack of tigers past the city and set up surveillance at the known entry points to make sure we were never caught unawares again. Things had settled and I felt safe and comfortable. There was still talk about approaching the Woodlands but until winter was over, it wasn’t practical.

Alexei said it was fascinating that the tigers now hunted in groups. Prior to the Woodlands, they were a solitary, shy species. Prior to the Woodlands, when people had consumed most of the planet, they were nearly extinct. I guess our near extinction had been a blessing to the wildlife.

“It’s a fast forward in evolution,” he said excitedly. He had decided to do what he was best at, categorizing and organizing the Survivors’ history and what they’d found in the city. Apella had been asked several times to assist in helping them with their reproduction problems but she couldn’t. She said she didn’t trust that she would get it right this time and it brought back too many bad memories. She was content to return to doctoring.

I liked visiting them but found it easier on my own. With Joseph there, it felt like we were all keeping a secret from him. Apella was still so adamant that he never learned why she lost her baby.

I found out that Gus had approached Joseph to join him in their little surveillance group but he declined. I was relieved; the idea of him and Cal working together conjured up small horrors. He enjoyed studying under Matthew in the hospital. He took Orry with him half the time; there were always people willing to watch him. It was quite far from where we lived but transport was not a problem. Everyone used the spinners.

As I was accepted into the community and accepted it myself, I learned more and more about the way things worked. The technology was baffling. Instead of using all their energy to control people, they had developed far beyond the capabilities of the Woodlands in a lot of ways. Their biggest problem seemed to be infertility. There were no kids. I mean, no kids. Cal was the youngest person in the whole town. Although, now, I guess Orry was, followed closely by Hessa.

I looked over at my pile of work, eager to get started. Bataar had asked me to modify his sled, streamline it but also camouflage it better. The woman down the road had asked me to fix her dining chairs. I didn’t do it for money. Money was inconsequential here. Bataar said he would give me furs and the woman down the road would cook me four dinners. It worked. Most of my business came from one person though. Cal.

We had an uneasy friendship or not even that really—we were dependent on him for food so I had to be nice to him. But I felt like he was watching me all the time, the eyes I once thought were warm and bright, now looked more solid and sticky. I usually tried to prioritize his work so I could get him out of the house quicker. But he always came back with more. At the moment, I was fixing a bunch of drawers he said wouldn’t open and shut properly. Joseph said I should tell him to get lost. It wasn’t that easy though. At least this way there was a definitive amount of time he would spend here. I had no doubt he would come up with other excuses to visit anyway. I felt sorry for him. He seemed lonely.

Cal was a good resource for information too. I asked him questions about the town while I worked.

“So how does the government work here? I mean, it seemed a little disorganized to me. The way people were yelling and arguing,” I asked as I planed down the edge of the drawer, noticing it looked like someone had kicked the base in with their foot.

“What do you mean?” Cal said, staring at my dark hands as I smoothed the edge of the drawer, getting covered in sawdust.

“Is there one ruler, you know, like the Superiors? The man with the plait looked like he had the final say in things.”

“No, not really. People nominate themselves and they get chosen by a lottery draw. There are five leaders at any one time and they rotate them every six months.” It couldn’t have been more different from the Woodlands.

I dusted my hands off and went to pull myself up. Cal extended his hand but I declined. He looked angry, for a second, and then he forced a smile to his face. “Thanks for the work, Cal. I’ll let you know when I’m done,” I said, trying to get rid of him.

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” he asked, his face twisted, his hand gripping the back of the chair too hard. His emotions swayed in and out of control like this. One minute he was fine, the next he seemed like he would explode with anger.

I waved my hand dismissively, “No, no. I just have a lot to do. It won’t be very interesting for you.” Please let that work.

He jumped up and down, his voice sounding childlike, “Oh I do find it interesting. I don’t mind.”

I wiped my forehead. “Please don’t be offended, Cal, but I find it quite hard to work with people staring at me. I don’t even like Joseph hovering over me when I’m working.”

He looked hurt but he hung on to the last thing I said. “So you don’t let him watch you work but you let me, at least for a little while?” He said it like he was winning. He never said Joseph’s name, it was always him or that guy.

“I guess…”

This seemed to satisfy him. He got up, touching the end of my plait on the way out. I shuddered. I hadn’t told Joseph about Cal’s inappropriate behavior. He already disliked him without adding to it. We needed the food he brought in return for my work. For now, I had to put up with it.

Orry was with Joseph at the hospital today so it was quiet. Only wood creaking and the sounds of my tools punctuated the silence. I loved it. I emptied my mind and focused on the details before me, the simplicity of the grain, the rough give of the timber, as I turned it from something boring to something useful.

I jerked my head to the window when I thought I heard someone walking by the side of the house. I got up, rubbing the back of my neck, and peered out the window but no one was there. People were close here. It wasn’t unusual to see someone poke their head in your window to ask for something. In Pau, I never even knew our neighbors’ names.

I abandoned Cal’s drawers and pulled out something I had been working on for myself. Under our bed was a toy train. I had carved the main engine roughly. I was basing it on the picture on the brochure we had followed so many months ago. It seemed fitting. I was turning it over in my hands, trying to work out what to do next, when I saw a reflection in the mirror facing opposite the bedroom window. It was fast but I swear I saw dark brown curls. I laid the train down carefully on the bed and went into the icy yard to investigate. I ran quickly. The cold was biting as I hadn’t put a jacket on. I walked up one side of the little shack and then doubled back to the front. Cal was skulking down the front path.

“Cal!” I yelled sharply.

Maybe I should have ignored him, let him go, but I was furious. I didn’t like being watched. And I wondered if this was the first time. He hunched his shoulders and turned around. Face pink, he looked at me guiltily. “Were you spying on me?” I could feel my face getting hot.

“I… I’m sorry. I forgot something,” he stammered, lying.

I thought about it for a millisecond then I walked right up to him, probably closer than was necessary, and said through gritted teeth, “Yes, I think you did. Come get your drawers. I’m not working for you anymore.”

The apology ran from his face like melting candlewax, revealing pure anger. Anger and humiliation. He stormed into the house, picking up the drawers, dropping them several times as he went, and stormed out again. I should have left it there, but I didn’t. I held open the door and as he passed me, I muttered, “I know you broke them on purpose.”

He turned to face me, his body shaking. He shrugged. It was exaggerated, like he would dislocate his shoulders with the abrupt force of it. He sighed and stared at me, his eyes blinking away tears. He looked like he wanted to say something but he couldn’t get the words out. Then he clattered away, throwing the drawers under a tree, and hopping on a passing spinner.

I was relieved. I could have handled it better but I also could have handled it worse. Hopefully, he would get over it and move on. Whatever his fixation on me was, it was over.

I returned inside and put the kettle on the hearth, warming my hands around it as the water boiled. There was always comfort in these everyday things. The kettle whistled and I made some tea. The people here had technologies, but chose to live simply, hence the wood stove, the candlelight. I loved the contradiction of it, the choice of it.

I watched the steam wind its way up to the ceiling, feeling a pull in my chest. I tried not to look back but occasionally, without meaning to, my brain tunneled that way against my will. Sometimes I felt myself standing under the trees, sparks of fire twirling into the night sky. Clara could always see things I couldn’t see. I wondered what she would make of this. I think she would have told me to be a bit kinder to Cal.

The sky was darkening. I closed the shutters and went outside to grab some wood. Joseph would be home soon with Orry. Mrs. ‘what’s her face’ would be coming over with dinner. I couldn’t remember her name, Mrs. Squishy something, or maybe I just thought that because her face was all puffy. I laughed.

I worked until Joseph returned. My hands were rough and dusty.

We ate our dinner, watching each other over the flicker of the candlelight. Avoiding the subject. The one that never came to any end because I couldn’t decide what I wanted to do.

Orry was fast asleep in the cot I’d made, snoring and rumbling in the corner of the modest living room.

I knew I was being unfair. And part of me didn’t even know why I was behaving this way. But I still felt that backwards feeling.

We went to bed early. It was still light, although darkening fast. Lying next to him, I was scared to open my mouth but also scared not to. After what had happened that first night, something needed to be said.

He spoke before I could. “I’m sorry about that night.” Ever since we’d almost slept together, things had been awkward between us. We had avoided the subject for way too long.

“No, I’m sorry,” I said.

Ugh! This was impossible. This was not us. It was too uncomfortable, too polite.

We both laughed. His hand grazed my bare leg and I shivered. “You cold?” I nodded, even though I wasn’t. He pulled me closer to his body, so warm, almost too warm. I sighed. It shouldn’t be this hard. He put his lips to my bare shoulder, slipping my shirt down and kissing my collarbone. My head was in a gold mist. I blew it away.

Concentrate.

“Do you ever get the feeling that some of this is a bit wrong?” I asked. Staring into his beautiful eyes, wanting to dive into them and forget sense.

He raised his eyebrows, that recognizable combination of amusement and worry. “What do you mean?”

“Well, we live together, we have a child, it’s like we’re married, but we’ve never even, well, you know…” I was making a mess of this. “It’s a bit back to front.”

He smiled, his eyes wandering over my face towards my neck. “Well, that’s easily fixed,” he said with a chuckle, pulling me on top of him and kissing me passionately. Don’t get lost, I told myself.

I extricated myself and rolled off his chest to lie facing him again. “No, I don’t think it’s that simple. I want to go back. Back to the start. Slow it down.”

He looked shattered by the idea but he nodded. “Well, what do you want to do? Am I supposed to court you?” When he said it like that, it sounded stupid.

“Um, no. Well, sort of. Oh, I don’t know. Just forget it.” I leaned in to kiss him but he pulled back before my lips connected.

Amused, he said, “No, if you want this, it’s fine with me, but I think there should be some ground rules.” Oh great!

I thought about courting in Pau. It was about as romantic as cold porridge. Usually, the man announced his intentions to the woman. She said yes or no and they were married in a few weeks to months. I’d never seen anyone holding hands or kissing. Every time Paulo went near my mother in a romantic way, one, I nearly threw up and two, she usually jumped out of her skin like his touch gave her an electric shock, but not the pleasant kind.

In Pau, I think there was love around but it was a thin kind of love. Guarded. Everything that goes with love, marriage, and children was so very tainted. How could you give your whole if you knew it was going to be taken away from you? I couldn’t imagine Joseph and me ‘courting’ in the traditional sense.

He was distractedly swirling his fingers in loose strands of my hair when I said, “Ok, what kind of rules?” as I eyed him suspiciously. His face lit up with mischief, dark shadows grazing his face in the dying light behind us. It irritated me. He wasn’t taking me very seriously.

“You tell me if some of these things are acceptable.” I nodded. “Can I do this?” He leaned in and kissed me lightly on the mouth.

“Yes.”

“What about this?” He traced the curve of my neck with his fingertips out to my shoulders.

I shivered and bit my lip. “Yes.” Then he brought his fingers across my chest and started towards my breasts. I shook my head. He stopped.

“Maybe I should write this down.” He grinned.

“It’s not a game,” I said, trying to sound serious but even I couldn’t suppress a smirk.

“All right, all right. We’ll start slow, and no ‘you know’ until you say you’re ready,” he said, the matter of fact ‘doctorness’ coming out in his speech. His eyes lifted under his brow, unsure. “But you will be ready, one day, right?”

My body was ready, ready right then, but I was trying to listen to my head this time. “Right,” I said. “Just not yet.”

He pulled me into a tight embrace. “This ok?” he said. I giggled.

“Stop it. Now you’re just being annoying!”

I fell asleep in his arms. I think we had it sorted. Maybe.

I always thought strength came from within you, that it started there and ended there. It was of your own making.

I was wrong.

Strength is a gift placed inside you, built up by the people who love you. Fortified by the people who hate or threaten you. These are the things I will teach my son.

Joseph left late that morning. We couldn’t bear to get out of bed, the cold chipping away at our toes, the quilt a refuge. He was enjoying stretching the terms of our new arrangement, finding different places on my body to touch, just to get a reaction. Strong fingers left a blush of warmth wherever they wandered. He finally peeled himself away and said he would be home late but that I should dress nice, whatever that meant. He was going to take me out somewhere. I couldn’t imagine where. There wasn’t much to choose from.

“What about Orry?” I said

“I’ll arrange everything. Just be ready by eight.”

“Ok,” I said sulkily. I really didn’t like surprises.

He kissed me lightly on the cheek, which left me wanting, and left. I watched him walk away, his thumping strides almost rocking the earth. He walked like a giant. I was still not quite used to the fact that he would be home. Home was alien. Home created flourishes of color, popping up through the cracks in the floorboards and the neat stone path, like sprouting spring flowers. He waved behind him without turning around, his scarred arm covered by a thick coat. I felt a pang of guilt for not telling him about Cal. I would do it tonight. One serious conversation at a time was probably best.