The Feral Sentence- Complete Box Set

by Shade Owens

  “Brone’s a Hunter,” Ellie intervened. “She gets whatever she wants.”

  She tore the spoon right out of Sumi’s hands and filled my bowl to the brim. I glanced at Sumi, who stared right at me, but what I received was not a hateful glare. Instead, she smiled, as if she knew something I didn’t or as if she were contemplating a gruesome revenge.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” I said quickly.

  Ellie glanced sideways at me. “Why can’t you just be thankful you have someone looking out for you?”

  “Because you’re making me enemies!”

  She led us to a thick tree log away from the center fire. She sat down and began shoveling egg into her mouth.

  “Br… Brone,” she said, still chewing on gooey yellow bits and pieces, “you’re too soft.”

  I stared at her.

  “You’re a Hunter now.” She swallowed the last piece. “People should respect you and fear you.”

  “I’m not a Hunter. I’m nothing like Eagle.”

  I hadn’t meant to sound mopey, but the title I’d been given was beyond my physical capabilities. I felt hopeless. I stared at the grass beneath my feet, where a blue-shelled beetle hopped from blade to blade. Even he had more stealth than I did.

  I wondered how Eagle—our finest Archer—was doing ever since she had been wounded when the Northers attacked the Village. No one had mentioned her name since. Had she died? Why hadn’t we heard about it? Would I be quickly forgotten if injured? Was I just a number?

  “Eagle was—is,” Ellie corrected, “a great Hunter. But that doesn’t mean you can’t be. It takes time to shoot an arrow the way she does.”

  I stood silent. Was she trying to make me feel better? It wasn’t working. I was useless to the women of the Village. I couldn’t protect them… or feed them for that matter. Holding a bow and arrow felt so unnatural to me; so foreign.

  Ellie sighed. “This isn’t about being good at what you do. It’s about knowing your worth on this island.” She leaned forward, her shoulders rounded and her fists clenched. “Or at least… pretending to know it. You have to be assertive, Brone. Weakness won’t get you anywhere.”

  “You calling me weak?”

  Her lips curved upward. “Well, yes,” she said, matter-of-factly.

  “You’re not a citizen anymore, Brone. You’re in the wild. Learn to act like it. If someone gives you a hard time, challenge her. You’re a Hunter now, for God’s sake.” She threw her arms up and laughed. “That’s one of the most respected positions on this island. You could cut everyone’s food supply. You have leverage.”

  I scoffed. “No, I couldn’t. I’m not the leader of the Hunters. I just do what I’m told.”

  “You don’t have to be the one who runs shit,” she said. “You just have to make people believe that with a few spoken words, you could turn Trim against them.”

  I was finally beginning to understand what she was getting at. Everything was a game. Although we functioned well together as a society, we were still human beings. We were still women who felt the need to prove our worth to be greater than another’s.

  “It’s all about survival,” Ellie added, “and I won’t always be around to defend you.” I finally sat down beside her and scooped a spoonful of cold egg into my mouth.

  “So what leverage do you have?” I glanced sideways at her. “No offense, but you don’t seem like the fighting type. I can’t picture you beating your way up to the top.”

  She raised her chin proudly toward the sky. “Pearls.”

  “Pearls?” I repeated.

  But she didn’t answer me. Instead, she eyed the pouch of pearls on my waist and raised both eyebrows.

  The island’s currency? Did she own it?

  “You could call me the bank,” she finally said.

  My jaw dropped.

  “You’re the one who pays all of us for doing our jobs?” I asked.

  She placed her empty bowl into the grass by her feet and nodded proudly. I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “That explains a lot,” I said, remembering the defeated look on Hammer’s face in the Tools tent when Ellie had caught her in a scam and the way Sumi had remained silent when Ellie filled my bowl with food.

  “Which means you have even more leverage,” she said.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Not only are you a Hunter, but you’re also friends with the Village’s bank.”

  I smiled—not because of the power I suddenly realized I had over other women but because she’d called me a friend. All I wanted on this island was a friend. She placed a hand over mine and squeezed it, and I felt comforted for the first time in a very long time.

  CHAPTER 2

  “This is soap?” I asked, rubbing the edge of my fingernail against the waxy surface.

  “The finest in all of Kormace,” she said slowly. She walked around the wooden table, her slender figure swaying from side to side as she moved. She picked up the unevenly chopped brick of soap and smirked all-knowingly.

  “Coconut oil, seaweed… and a few other ingredients.” She rubbed the soap’s surface with the side of her thumb. “The rest is a secret. Keeps me valuable.”

  There was a certain elusive quality about her. Her pale, crooked smile made her appear all knowing, almost to the point of arrogant, yet her plant-constructed jewelry and messily braided hair gave her the appearance of simplicity and authenticity.

  She dropped the soap into my hands and I pressed it underneath my nose. It smelled fresh but also earthy and somewhat salty—if salt had a smell. I’d take anything at this point. I just wanted to rid my body of its filth. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d showered.

  “How much?” I asked.

  “Three,” she said quickly.

  I knew she was referring to pearls, the Village’s currency. I couldn’t understand how she was charging three pearls for this little bar of soap. I remembered Hammer, the butch woman from the Tools tent, and how she’d tried to scam me into spending all my pearls on a flimsy little leather pouch.

  “Weakness won’t get you anywhere,” I remembered Ellie telling me.

  Although it wasn’t in my nature to be assertive or confrontational, I reached into my pouch and extracted one shiny pearl.

  “One,” I said, holding the single pearl out in front of me.

  She eyed me carefully from top to bottom, and I became uncomfortable. I stood there, with my arm stiff out in front of me, refusing to back down.

  “You’re the new girl, aren’t you? The one Murk’s assigned as an Archer among the Hunters?” She rubbed her chin with her thumb and index finger.

  I nodded.

  She stared at the bar of soap for a moment.

  “Consider it a welcome gift,” she said.

  I hesitated. Was this a game? A test? Why would someone hand over free merchandise? This had never happened to me before. I’d never had anything handed to me for free.

  “Don’t overthink it, sweetheart,” she said. “I happen to have a working relationship with you Hunters… I’d like to keep it that way.”

  And there it was—leverage.

  She smiled. “Maybe one of these days, I’ll be in need of ingredients farther out on the island, and you’ll be the one to help me.”

  “Sounds fair,” I said, realizing that our exchange was mutually beneficial.

  “I’m Tegan,” she said.

  “Brone.”

  “You need anything else, you know where to find me.” She walked to the back of the tent and sat on a thick piece of log. Beside her were coconut shells, plants of different lengths and colors, powders, feathers, skins, and many other ingredients thrown into a pile for future creations.

  I was about to leave Tegan’s tent when I realized something.

  “Tegan?” I asked.

  “Yes, doll?”

  “Where do I clean myself?”

  She smiled at me the way a teacher would her student—with patience and kindness.

&n
bsp; “Anything on this island look like a shower to you?”

  Had this been a joke? Of course not. Had I seen some magical shower, I’d have… “The waterfall?” I realized.

  She nodded. “Word of advice, though… Don’t stand directly underneath it. It’ll knock you right off your feet. Most women stand at the edges or use the pool of water underneath it to bathe in.”

  I thanked her and left.

  When I stepped out into the Village, the first thing I noticed was the silence. There were no women arguing about fighting the Northers; there were no footsteps nearby; there was no fire at the center of the Village.

  Had we been attacked? There was no sign of struggle or damage.

  I rushed out through the Village’s entrance, where trees were slanted to form an arch. How could so many women disappear so quickly? I could feel my legs trembling, but I had to keep moving. Although I’d never gone to the Working Grounds alone, I knew which direction to go.

  I ran over the path that had been gradually constructed through usage over the last few decades: broken branches, flattened leaves, and hardened mud. I knew this path quite well now, having travelled it several times to train as an Archer near the Working Grounds’ waterfall.

  I’d been running so fast—so blindly, being led by fear and adrenaline—that I’d failed to see her running in my direction. I felt the impact of our bodies before I heard my name, “Brone!”

  It was Rocket. She had both hands gripped around my arms, and she was breathing heavily, although not quite as heavily as I was. She was a runner—a true hunter. I had a lot of catching up to do, physically speaking.

  “Where were you?” she asked.

  My heart regained its natural pace, and I slowed my breathing.

  “I… I was just buying something.” I raised the seaweed and coconut soap for her to see, only to realize my fingers’ tight grip had melted holes into it. I sighed.

  “Nice.” She laughed at me, and I smiled.

  “You’re supposed to keep products like that in your tent and on the ground, where it’s coolest,” she said.

  I stared at her as if to say, ‘How was I supposed to know that?’

  “Anyways,” she said, “you can’t clean yourself now. You’re a Hunter, Brone, which means you report to Trim every day after breakfast. We train or work until suppertime. Then you get clean if you want.”

  She reached for my deformed soap and placed it at the base of the nearest tree. She then covered it with several leaves and branches.

  “There,” she said.

  “And how am I supposed to remember where that is?” I asked.

  “Monkey Brush,” she said.

  “Monkey what?” I asked, shifting my attention to the trees overhead.

  “Right there.” She pointed at a strangely shaped plant that resembled a snow brush, only it was vibrant red and orange.

  “Did you just make up that name?” I asked.

  Rocket chuckled. “No, it’s the actual name. I did a project on it in high school before I dropped out.

  Always stuck with me.”

  I’d been about to ask her how she’d landed herself on Kormace Island, but even I knew that interrogating a felon about their life in the real world was a faux pas. It didn’t matter what she’d done— who she’d killed—because life on Kormace wasn’t the same as life in the real world.

  “Come on.” She turned around. “Trim’s waiting on you. No one makes Trim wait.”

  I followed her into the Working Grounds, where I received several impatient glares from the new Battlewomen who’d been forced to wait for me before beginning their training.

  “You’re late,” Trim said. She threw me my bow, but I wasn’t ready for the catch and it landed in the sand.

  Laughter erupted around me, and I felt like a complete klutz. How would I ever hunt an animal if I couldn’t even catch my own bow? I’d never hit my target. I suddenly remembered the blurry sight of Sunny being dragged away by the dark figure in the mask, and I couldn’t help but feel responsible. If only I’d known how to shoot… if only I’d been as good as Eagle, I might have been able to save her.

  I picked up my bow, its smooth wood feeling even softer than usual against my now calloused palm. I was turning into a true Islander, with my rough skin and dirty fingernails. It disgusted me.

  Women fought around me with sticks, rope, and their bare hands while Trim led me closer to the waterfall to continue practicing target shooting with two other Archers, Pin and Hamu—two Asian twin sisters who’d been selected for their perfect vision and small builds, which, as Trim had mentioned, was advantageous for the purpose of stealth.

  For the last few days, Pin and Hamu had managed to shoot their arrows several feet away from the target, which was far better than anything I’d managed to do. If the arrow didn’t fall out of my hands, it landed mere feet away from me; it was both embarrassing and frustrating. I began to wonder if Murk had made a mistake in assigning me the task of Archer.

  But today was different. Their movements were sloppy and their aim was terrible. It made me feel better.

  “You’re supposed to get better, not worse.” Trim moved in, eyeing them both curiously.

  “Sorry, Trim,” Pin said. She was the more vocal of the two, and unlike Hamu who hid her face behind her hair, Pin appeared to be quite confident. Hamu barely spoke, and she followed her sister like a puppy on a leash. “We’re just really tired.”

  “I don’t care if you’re tired,” Trim said. “We’re all tired. We’re all tossing and turning in our sleep, afraid that there might be an attack in the middle of the night.”

  She tore the bow out of Pin’s hand and picked up an arrow from the pile beside us. Without hesitating, she raised the bow, positioned her arrow, and pulled the bowstring. There was a snap, and her arrow penetrated the middle of the blood-drawn target.

  “Tired or not, we still have enemies,” she said, before turning away and toward the Battlewomen.

  “You young people are too impulsive…” I recognized Flander’s old voice. She was leaning up against a large flat rock at the base of the waterfall’s cliff, observing the new Battlewomen spar.

  “You old people are too slow,” Rocket said. She swung her fighting stick at the shins of the woman she was battling before tackling her to the ground.

  Flander smirked, unoffended by Rocket’s words. It was as if she were proud of her overly freckled, leather-like skin and colorless hair—as if it represented wisdom.

  “Always keep your guard up,” Rocket said, extending an open palm to the young Battlewoman lying in the sand.

  The girl smiled and grabbed Rocket’s hand. I could tell she was soaking all of this in. She was eager to fight, and she was willing to take a few punches to become as good as Trim’s crew.

  The clicking of sticks and fighting cries continued, and I was instantly thankful to have been given the title of Archer. I wouldn’t have lasted two minutes in a fight with a wooden stick. At least, as an Archer, I could shoot from a distance. The only thing I had to worry about was not getting shot by one of the enemy’s Archers.

  “Always stay hidden,” Trim had told us Archers on our first day when Sunny had been by my side. “The enemy always tries to take out Archers first, so they can attack on foot.”

  I remembered Sunny’s dandelion-yellow eyes and the way she’d nodded at Trim’s every word. She too had been eager to fight alongside the Hunters. I wondered why I lacked such eagerness. Maybe I was still too fresh. I still possessed this notion that we, as human beings, should be able to cohabitate without wanting to slit each other’s throats. What was the purpose of this war? Why did the Northers want our heads? What had we ever done to them?

  I knew there was a lot I didn’t know and a lot I had to learn.

  I was still shooting arrows into the sand when I noticed Fisher move in slowly. I’d been intimated by her since the first day I’d seen her. She had such a badass look with her long dark hair pulled back into a tig
ht ponytail and protruding cheekbones—the type of girl you didn’t want to make eye contact with.

  “It took her a while too, you know,” she said, a crooked smile on her lips.

  I eyed her curiously. I couldn’t tell whether she was being nice to me or blatantly degrading me.

  “Eagle,” she clarified.

  I lowered my bow. There were dozens of arrows sticking out of the sand several feet away from the wooden target, which was completely undamaged.

  “It takes time, kid,” she said. “Here.” She moved in closer and signaled me to get into position.

  I placed an arrow into the bowstring and pulled my shoulders back.

  “Knees bent a bit,” she said.

  Pin and Hamu were now standing still, trying to absorb any bit of advice Fisher had to offer.

  “Don’t hold your elbow straight like that.”

  I did as I was told and sighed, not quite understanding how my stance would change the direction of my arrow.

  “It’s an art, really,” she said. “There. Now pull back, up to your lips, and keep your eyes on the target.”

  I followed her instructions and kept my gaze on the target’s bloody circle, but it was hard to concentrate with her practically pressed up against me and her breath warming the back of my shoulder.

  “Visualize the arrow hitting your target, and when you’re ready… let go.”

  I held onto the idea of a Norther standing in front of me—the very same Norther who’d maimed Eagle. I didn’t know what she looked like, but I’d drawn myself an image for the purpose of directing my hatred: torn garments, arms full of faded ink, facial piercings, and yellow plaque-coated teeth.

  I released the arrow.

  There was a loud crack, and the hanging target swayed gently from side to side upon impact. To my surprise, I’d managed to strike just above the bullseye. I couldn’t believe it. I glanced back at Fisher, but she’d already walked away.

  Pin and Hamu hopped into position, prepared to follow Fisher’s advice. The practicing continued, and although I didn’t hit the bullseye, I managed to hit my target more than once. I’d been so caught up in the moment that for the first time in several days, the cacophonous bickering of female felons became nonexistent to me. I couldn’t hear women swearing or yelling at each other, fighting sticks being knocked against one another, the waterfall’s static noise, the inconsistent chirping and whistling of insects, or the faraway screams and calls being emitted by the jungle’s wildlife.