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Authors: Lauren Nicolle Taylor

The Wounded (The Woodlands Series) (30 page)

BOOK: The Wounded (The Woodlands Series)
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Tonight would be our last night
in the train station before everyone split away and headed to the different hideouts and shelters. Each one could only hold around a few hundred people. Some of the Monkey City dwellers chose to stay. But most had formed friendships, even relationships, with the Survivors over the last six months, and they wanted to leave with us.

We walked into the
train station, the monkeys oddly quiet, just tracking us with their filmy, yellow eyes and picking at each other’s fur. I swallowed as I passed under a group of them. I would be glad to be rid of the shrieking, interrupting little monsters.

Joseph
held out his hand, and I took it. “So are you sure you’re happy with Pietre taking Orry?” I asked.

He frowned and stared at the ground
. “I’m not happy with any of this, but what choice do we have?” I closed my mouth. He was right. There were no choices we were happy to make. Right now, we had to grab at the only ones available to us.

We
stepped carefully into the giant opening of the tunnel, immediately noticing the hum and gloomy glow of thousands of people saying goodbye and preparing for a journey.

 

*****

 

We jumped down several levels to where Rash and my father were staying, our feet skimming over slimy, black rocks. The fire burned high, and people were knocking cans of drinks together and talking excitedly about their plans. When Joseph and I walked into the light, everyone stared. The couple who would dare to break into the Superiors’ compound was quite a curiosity. Some clapped, others warned, and some congratulated. Someone offered me a can. I took one sip and screwed up my nose. It tasted like dishwater with a burn behind it. I handed it to Joseph, and he swigged it whole-heartedly, his eyes lit up as he swallowed.

We sat together with some strangers and the rest of our group. Odval brought Orry to us.
He played with Hessa by our feet as we talked about what was going to happen. Fear was in the air, searing the rocks with electricity. Yet hope-tinged clouds clung to the spiky underbelly of this cave as well. The Survivors had been sitting around, tending their wounds, for too long. Energy surged through the space now that there was an aim. The wounds were our power, pushing us forward, up, over, and inside the walls to crack them open.

Someone
tried to hand Joseph another can, but he declined. He shook his head lightly as if to clear it. “You ok?” I whispered as we nursed plates on our knees, enjoying the last taste of fresh meat before we were back to dehydrated jerky.

He ran his fingers over my knuckles gently. “
Yeah, I’m fine. I just don’t like how that stuff makes me feel. A bit cloudy in the head, like I’m forgetting things,” he said, tapping his temple.

I leaned into him and tried to prepare. Orry wasn’t going to understand any of this.

Pietre sat opposite us, his eyes orange from the flame. He watched Orry carefully, like he was studying him. When Orry toddled over to him and tripped on a stone, Pietre’s arms shot out to steady the wobbly toddler. Orry smiled at him warily, clapping his palms over both of Pietre’s knees to stabilize himself. Pietre’s teeth showed in what I assume was a grin, but to me looked more like a grimace. Orry laughed. Careen snuggled next to Pietre and held out her hand for Orry to take. My heart felt stabbed clean through. They looked like a family. They might be if Joseph and I didn’t return. I wished we didn’t have to go, but no one else would volunteer who didn’t already have responsibilities elsewhere. It was like a devil was pushing me in the back, and an angel was ushering me forward. There was no other direction to go.

I
approached them. Orry saw and ran towards me anxiously, collapsing in my arms with a gurgle. I nuzzled my face in his hair and breathed. I was collecting all these little moments. Storing them. They would be what I would hold onto later. Anchors.

“Can you do one thing for me?” I asked quietly.

Pietre nodded.

Careen smiled
widely. “Anything.”

“Take him somewhere up
,” I pointed to the ceiling, “on land. No more hiding underground.”

“Of course,” Pietre said
soberly. “I know where we can go.” He reached towards my chest. I stiffened, red scurrying around my face, as he pulled my handheld out of my breast pocket and began typing in the coordinates. “When you’re done saving the world, you find us,” he said, without looking up, as he linked our handhelds. We would always know where the other was.

He placed it in my palm and returned his gaze to the fire.
“We’re linked now,” he said softly.

Rash was scratching the earth up like a chicken. Essie watch
ed him, her eyes round, her face warm and pink. Her adoration was so clear on her face. He’d obviously had plenty of those drinks. His speech was slurred, and he threw his arms around like he’d been shocked with a stunner. Essie just laughed at his antics. I rolled my eyes and left him to it. We didn’t need to say goodbye just yet.

Alexei sat back from the
others; his legs crossed one over the other, his eyes blankly staring into the fire. I put my hand on his shoulder, and he started. “Rosa! I didn’t see you there. I… I was just thinking…”

“About Apella?”

“Well yes, I’m always thinking about her. But actually, I was pondering about the effects of the beer on your friend Rash. I know alcohol can relax people, ease them in to social situations, but I think in your friend’s case, it was, perhaps, superfluous.” He smiled up at me awkwardly. I kneeled down and threw my arms around him, pulling him close.

“Look after Hessa and Orry for me
. Keep them together,” I whispered. “You’re the one I trust most of all.” I thought ‘finally’ and ‘too late.’ Tears pulled at the corner of my eyes but I kept hold of him, letting him breathe in and out with someone embracing him and reminding him that he was loved.

He patted my back
lightly, and I released him. He sniffed and straightened his glasses. “Thank you, dear.”

 

*****

 

It was late. Orry was asleep in Joseph’s arms, his head tilted back, his lips parted like he was about to speak. Rash had passed out in Essie’s lap and was snoring loudly. Essie asked us very politely to help get him back to his room. Joseph handed Orry to me and grumbled as he threw an unresponsive Rash over his shoulder. I slumped over my sleeping baby and caught a hold of another moment to store for later.

“You were always so beautiful when you were sleeping,” Pelo said behind me. “All that energy, that
pent-up frustration, disappeared from you face, and you became what I always knew you were—an angel.”

I didn’t look up at him, just continued to stare at
my own angel in my arms. “And now what am I?” I asked

Pelo moved in next to me, his thin legs clad in
mission-ready cargos and the classic Survivor sneakers. “Now, my darling girl… now you are a savior.”

My breath caught in my chest. I was not as big as that. Th
at word was huge. Savior.

Joseph’s hand clapped around my shoulder and planted me firmly
back on the ground. “C’mon, Supergirl.” I raised an eyebrow at him questioningly. “We need to get this one to bed.”

“What’s a supergirl?”

He chuckled at my ignorance. “I really need to show you some of the reading material available to us.”

I kissed Pelo
lightly on the cheek, and stood, handing Orry back to Joseph so he could carry him back to the top of this dark amphitheater. As we climbed, my father’s thin frame sunk behind the smoke of the dying fire. He was smiling, his hands clasped in front of him, looking to the sky through meters of rock.

 

*****

 

Joseph laid Orry gently down in our bed and tucked him in tightly. I reached down to smooth his hair from his face.

“Once there was a way to get back homeward
…” I sung the Beatles song Addy had taught me quietly, like a rough whisper. “Once there was a way to get back home. Sleep pretty darling, do not cry,” my hand shook a little, “and I will sing a lullaby.” Joseph’s arms curled around my shoulder. “Golden slumbers fill your eyes. Smiles await you when you rise. Sleep pretty darling, do not cry, and I will sing a lullaby.” I wiped the tear before it even had a chance to creep out of the corner of my eye.

We both stared down at him as the candle flickered, casting our wobbly shadows on the inky walls. Any minute
now, he’d disappear like a puff of smoke.

This was too hard.

Joseph mirrored my thoughts, standing back and running both hands through his hair, and keeping them clasped behind his neck. He turned to me, and his eyes were half-dark, half-desire.

 

Sadness pulled you in different directions. Love pulled you straight into another. For me, desire was pulling all those strands together and tying them in a knot, holding me together. Even if it was temporary.

But everything felt like a last

Joseph pulling me along a tunnel, his hand clutching mine so tight my bones were mashing together.

The atmosphere opening up like a hole-ridden blanket had been tossed across the sky, pricks of light drilling holes into the ground as we ran into the trees.

The slip of fabric running over my a
rms and losing its hold on me, slow as it danced to ground, crisscrossing shadows sitting on top of it like a weight.

The cold as the air hit my skin.

The warm as his skin met mine.

The feeling of being lifted
, wet leaves pressing into my back as I reached up to meet him.

We were together.

Everything was cold until every part of me was warm and shaking. Winter being pulled back, with the retreating mist at our bare feet.

 

We woke drowsy. Sleep didn’t find us until early morning, and it still clung to the sides of my eyes like the sheet that was glued to my damp face. Joseph’s lips met mine and the sun rose in my chest. But then Orry kicked me in the back.


Mama,” he said, impatiently pulling my hair.

Lasts.

I tried unsuccessfully to push down the grief that scraped its way up through my body. Joseph’s hand clamped around my stick-like arm, and I could feel the unhappiness running like a current from him to me and back again.

“Right, breakfast
,” I said, going about the normal things.

A tail curled and snapped under the heavy blanket strung up in the entrance to our hovel. “Munk ee
,” Orry shouted excitedly, like he had the hiccups.

“Clever boy,” Joseph
said, swinging him into his arms for a hug. Our eyes connected. We both looked like we’d choke if we tried to speak, so we averted our gaze from each other.

We fed Orry his
breakfast, and I was reminded why we were doing this. Somewhere, another child was eating something that may have only contained the tiniest traces of fava beans, and that child would probably die. I closed my eyes but my eyelids flashed with visions of Orry seizing, and I clutched my chest, reminding my heart to beat.

I could see Matthew’s pacing feet brushing the sides of the curtain. The standard white sneakers
draped to the ankles with rough cargo pants.

“You can come
in, Matthew,” I said.

He seemed flustered
, but then we were all a bit unnerved. “We need to leave soon. Everyone is ready to go.”

“Okay.” I waved him off.

I looked to Joseph. “Do we say something to Orry?” I asked, unsure.

He shrugged but held Orry so they were facing each other. “
Your parents are going away for a while. Pietre, Careen, and Alexei will look after you while we’re gone. And you’ll have Hessa to play with.” Joseph swiped his hand across his eyes. “Damn it.”

I kneeled down and looked into Orry’s eyes, my eyes. So strange
, but so beautiful framed by his blond curls and sloping nose. “I love you,” I said. “Don’t miss me.” I pushed my finger lightly into his belly, and he giggled. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Orry leaned in and planted a sloppy kiss on my eyebrow
. I felt like the ground might swallow me, like the whole earth was angry with me and might trap me beneath the real world forever.

I looked up at the
ceiling, fighting with myself.
Don’t let this be the last time I see my son.

I
lifted him to my hip. Joseph carried our small backpacks over one shoulder. We were quiet as we fell into line with the others. Thousands of people poured like lava, up into the light, away from this place. Into a fight.

 

*****

 

I hugged and kissed him a thousand times, as he sat clinging to Careen’s waist like a bear in a tree.

“Promise me you’ll keep him safe
,” I said, gripping her shoulders kind of desperately.

She grimaced from the pressure my fingers were p
utting on her collarbone, but tipped her delicate chin. “Listen to me, I will keep him safe. I promise. Just promise you’ll do the same.” She flicked her hair and blinked. “You know, for yourself that is. Keep yourself safe.”

I laughed nervously.
“Okay.”

There were eighteen of us leaving in cars. Some I knew, some I
didn’t, but as we climbed into the four cars, we held the possibility of a different future for everyone. This could change everything.

I
jumped into the driver’s seat and Rash, Gus, and Pelo slid into the backseat, throwing their packs and equipment over the top of the sloshing fuel cans in the boot. I wound down the window and shut the door, feeling my heart and my body tearing open like flimsy fabric. I was nothing but a tattered scrap in the wind.
I don’t know how to leave him.

Joseph’s hand
slid over mine as it paused on the handbrake. He clicked it in and eased it down. He lifted my hand to the gear stick, keeping it steady as I changed gears.

I let the tears fall freely, my mouth set hard. My eyes on the road ahead. The car shuddered to
life, and we rolled forward.

 

“Well, that was intense,” Rash exclaimed, while I glared at his flash-white grin and inappropriate expression in the rearview mirror.

“Shut up, Rash!” Pelo snapped uncharacteri
stically.

Gus grunted.

Joseph brought his handheld to his face, ignoring the men in the backseat. “Turn left here,” he said. I slammed on the brakes and turned the corner hard, watching the men’s shoulders bash in to each other like toppling tenpins, shutting them all up.

M
y lap handheld glowed in my lap like my own heart-aching sun, splitting and guiding me at the same time. Its screen showed a different destination. A blinking red light we were getting further and further away from. Orry.

We were to follow the M53
, an old highway used back when there were cars everywhere, hugging bumper to bumper, and polluting the earth. I shook my head sharply at the old Class words remerging in my head like a poisoned lecture.

Rash played with one of the retrieved projection disc
s from the Woodlands and banged the side of his head on the window like a child. “I miss Essie,” he moaned.

“We’ve only bee
n driving for ten minutes! Get over yourself, Rash!” I snapped, darting around a bicycle planted right in the middle of the road.

He fluttered his lips like a horse and stared out the window. I should have been
nicer, but there was little left in me other than to drive and try not to turn around and return to my son. This was hard on Rash too. I swallowed some of my anger and tried to replace it with understanding. It bobbed in my throat like an anchored cork, not quite ready to surface.

 

*****

 

The cars were supposed to be quicker than walking, but I wasn’t so sure. Every few kilometers, we had to stop and remove an obstacle or several. I began to get frustrated at our pace and drove over the top of a disintegrating pram. It got caught under the wheels, which meant more time wasted. We needed to drive about six hundred kilometers northwest before we would abandon the cars and trek into the wilderness towards the Woodlands. It should have been a day’s drive, but it had already taken us two hours simply to pass the city limits.

BOOK: The Wounded (The Woodlands Series)
4.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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