The Feral Sentence- Complete Box Set

by Shade Owens

It was just sitting there, at the base of a broken tree log, chewing on plants as if nothing else in the world mattered. It was bigger than any gorilla I’d ever seen at the zoo, with its thick, short-haired chest resembling that of an armored knight. Its black eyes were glued to us, and for a moment, it stopped chewing and just stared.

  I swallowed hard. Why were we just standing there? I’d heard of gorillas attacking humans, and who knew where this one had come from? Maybe it was a mother. I noticed that the Hunters were all smiling—something I didn’t see very often.

  “Beautiful, ain’t it?” Flander whispered.

  It really was, but the fear I felt toward the animal eliminated any excitement within me.

  “Let’s keep moving,” Trim said quietly, and she turned the other way.

  I couldn’t believe I’d just seen a wild gorilla dozens of feet away from me.

  Flander was still smiling ear to ear by the time we reached the Working Grounds. She must have caught me staring at her because she laughed and said, “In all my years.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. Had she never seen one before?

  “I seen a black panther—just once, mind you—chimpanzees, cougars, wild turkey, and birds of all sorts, but never once have I seen a gorilla,” she said.

  “Me neither,” Rocket said. “What a beauty!”

  “Are there many around here?” I asked.

  “Probably,” Flander said. “Kormace is huge. There’s still tons we haven’t seen. We like to stay close to the Village.”

  I was beginning to understand why criminal sentences on Kormace Island were so short in comparison to the duration of actual prison sentences—survival was a daily struggle. In prison, all basic necessities were provided and overall safety was guaranteed—somewhat.

  The moment we entered the Working Grounds, everyone fell silent. But this silence was not brought forth by our presence, but rather, by someone else’s. She’d just entered the Working Grounds from the Village path with Ellie underneath one arm and a long wooden staff underneath the other.

  She struggled to move forward, her face contorting with every step taken.

  “Eagle!” Rocket shouted.

  Eagle glanced up, her blue eyes resembling glass marbles underneath the sunlight’s intrusive rays. Her lips curved upward at the sight of Rocket running her way.

  Trim and the others were quick to follow, leaving the dead boar on the ground. Even though I felt out of place, I followed too.

  Rocket threw her arms around Eagle, and although Eagle’s arms were busy maintaining balance, she reached around Rocket’s shoulders with her staff and held her tight.

  “You okay?” Trim asked.

  Several other women had circled around us, curious to hear about Eagle’s recovery since the attack.

  “I’m okay,” Eagle said, shrugging, but the way she struggled to stand upright proved otherwise.

  “Medics never tell us anything,” Fisher said. “Everything’s always a big secret.”

  Eagle laughed, her blonde hair dancing atop her head. It had grown a bit over the last few weeks. I couldn’t imagine how hard it must have been sitting in a cabin, secluded from everyone.

  “Just how Navi is,” she said. “She says the more people talk about something, the more power they give it. Guess she didn’t want anyone talking about my injuries.”

  “Who’s Navi?” I asked, turning to Flander.

  “Our Medic—and before y’ask,” Flander said, “she named ’erself after a video-game character—some fairy. ’Course the geek would turn out to be the Medic.”

  I smiled, even though I didn’t really care where her name had come from.

  “Did Navi tell you when it’s safe to start hunting again?” Trim asked.

  Eagle regripped her staff and hopped sideways to straighten her stance. “I won’t be hunting anymore.”

  “What?”

  “What?”

  “How’s…”

  “What about…”

  Eagle waved a hand to quiet everyone.

  “I’m just grateful to be alive… Got hit here,” she said, pointing at her inner thigh, “and here.” She pulled the leather of her shirt over her right shoulder, revealing a pink circular-shaped scar surrounded by blue and yellow bruising. She made a fist with her hand then stretched all her fingers into an open palm.

  “Can’t really feel them,” she said.

  “There was nerve damage,” Ellie said, her eyes lowering to the ground. “Doesn’t look good.”

  There was a moment of silence, which was uncomfortable but required for the absorption of Ellie’s news.

  “Does Murk know about this?” Trim asked.

  Eagle nodded, defeated.

  “Murk’s reassigned her to be a Night Watcher,” Ellie said.

  “A Night Watcher?” I asked.

  Everyone turned to face me. It was as if they’d forgotten I was standing behind them.

  “It’s basically a glorified Battlewoman,” Rocket said, seemingly disgusted. “They stay up during night hours and keep watch over the Village while the other women sleep. There’s no fighting involved. If there’re any intruders, they sound the alarm—well the horn.”

  Eagle scoffed. “There’s fighting, all right. Fighting to stay awake.”

  But no one laughed. It was evident that being a Night Watcher was a task assigned to those incapable of working any other job due to physical limitations—like having the fat kid in a group of friends “stand watch” while the other kids sneak into the teacher’s desk drawers to steal candy.

  Rocket moved in again, leaning her head on Eagle’s shoulder.

  “I’m so sorry, Eag,” she said.

  Eagle shrugged. “It is what it is.” She shook her head and laughed. “I just feel sorry for you guys. You’re gonna starve without me.”

  “I’ll do my best to make sure everyone keeps eating,” I said, although I wished I’d kept my mouth shut.

  Everyone’s eyes turned to me.

  Eagle raised an eyebrow and eyed me from head to toe. “She’s my replacement?”

  “No one could ever replace you, Eagle,” Biggie said, casting a shadow over all of us as she moved in closer. “But we did need an Archer, and she was one of the chosen ones, along with Sun—Pin and Hamu.”

  I knew she’d held back from mentioning Sunny, and I felt a knot form in the pit of my stomach.

  “Trim can shoot.” Eagle crossed her arms over her chest.

  It was apparent that my being an Archer was the last thing Eagle would have agreed to. I wasn’t sure whether it was because I was new to Kormace Island or because I somehow rubbed her the wrong way. But I’d never done anything to offend her—at least not intentionally.

  She was still staring right at me, her eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared. I’d always been taught to steer away from confrontation—to make friends rather than enemies. Even though I boiled inside, wanting nothing more than to ask, “What’s your problem with me, anyways?” I was unable to. I just didn’t have it in me, which I knew would be my downfall on this island.

  “Cheer up, Eag. We’re having a celebration in your name tonight.” Rocket nudged her.

  “Tegan always makes the best brew during celebrations.” Flander licked her lips and rubbed her palms together.

  I remembered Tegan. I’d purchased soap from her in one of the merchant tents. She had a way of mixing ingredients to create new items and potions. I wasn’t quite sure, but I could only assume Flander was referring to alcohol when she said brew.

  “A celebration?” Eagle scoffed. “It may as well be a memorial… or a funeral. I know how these things work. I defended the Village, and now I’m a cripple.”

  “No one’s celebrating your injuries,” Trim said sharply. “We’re celebrating your bravery. You took out most, if not all of the attackers that day.”

  Eagle shrugged. “Look, I’ll catch you guys later.”

  Ellie shot a glance at me before ducking underneath Eagle’s arm and moving
forward with her.

  “Don’t pay any attention to her,” Flander said, leaning in toward me. “She’s just hurtin’.”

  “With good reason.” Fisher was quick to come to Eagle’s defense. “It’s like being a gold medal Olympian and losing a leg. Eagle’s always been our number one Hunter, and now she’s nothing.”

  “She’s not nothing!” Rocket said.

  Fisher rolled her eyes. “In the eyes of the Village—yeah, she is. If you can’t contribute, you’re basically a waste of space.”

  Rocket lunged forward and shoved Fisher back as hard as she could. Fisher tripped backward several steps, but she somehow managed to stay on her feet. She had a cryptic smile on her face as if amused by Rocket’s lack of strength.

  “Enough!” Trim grabbed Rocket by the leather of her shirt and extended an open palm at Fisher.

  “She started it,” Fisher said, smirking at Rocket.

  Rocket pulled out of Trim’s grip and stormed off in the opposite direction toward the Village’s path.

  “Why do you do that?” Trim asked, turning her attention to Fisher.

  Fisher laughed. “Come on, Trim. I was being realistic. You know better than anyone that emotions don’t belong on Kormace, and emotions aside, Eagle’s useless now.”

  Trim clenched her jaw, mulling over Fisher’s words. It was clear that she found truth in them.

  “You’re right,” Trim said coldly. “But Eagle still deserves recognition for all she’s done, so I expect you all to be at the celebration.”

  Everyone nodded and made their way toward the Village. I was about to follow when I felt someone tap my shoulder.

  “You should be proud,” Rocket said, her gaze fixed on the waterfall.

  I didn’t know what she was referring to until I followed her eyes. Several women had dragged the bloody boar across the sand to the side of the waterfall where a bountiful garden filled with fruits and vegetables was located. Beside this garden was a cage constructed of branches filled with wild turkeys.

  I remembered Murk mentioning Farmers as one of the divisions of the Village, and I realized that these women were responsible for our food and water consumption. There were two women kneeling in front of the garden, reaching into it and pulling out bits and pieces of either weed or actual fruit—I couldn’t quite tell which.

  There was a water filtration system located beside the turkey cage—it was a massive hole dug into the ground with some meshing or skin stretched out above it. I had no idea how the contraption worked, but I’d seen Trim approach it to fill her water bladder.

  I looked away when one of the women raised a carved blade and began tearing into the boar’s flesh.

  “You shouldn’t watch that,” Rocket said. “The last thing you want on this island is to be grossed out by meat. It’s all we eat.”

  “I thought you left,” I said.

  “I did.” She smirked then opened her hand and revealed the piece of seaweed soap I’d purchased from Tegan’s tent. “I knew you’d forget where it was, so I grabbed it for you. Come on, I’ll show you where to get cleaned up.”

  I followed her toward the waterfall on the opposite side of the bloody scene. There was a gentle flow of water spilling out over several flat rocks high above. Underneath this natural shower was a young woman lathered in a silky substance, with her eyes closed, her wet hair pulled back, her bare skin and small pointed breasts glistening underneath the water.

  “This is it,” Rocket said. She leaned in close then whispered, “Some women still try to shave—others don’t even bother. Not like there are any men to impress. Mind you, most women on the island learn to play for the other team, if ya catch my drift.”

  “What?” I asked.

  Rocket ignored me, and instead, offered me a flat pointed rock, which had been sharpened along one of its edges. “Nothing like a razor, but it manages to get some of the hair. Just be careful.”

  She raised an arm above her head and revealed an evenly trimmed, short-haired armpit. “Personally, I don’t like the long pit hair.” She glanced at the woman who was now rinsing the top of her head, revealing thick black patches underneath the pits of her arms. “Some people don’t seem to care.”

  I grabbed the rock and thanked her.

  “When you’re done,” she said, “just sit in the sun for a while. It’ll dry you off.”

  A little farther away, lying in a bed of grass alongside the Working Grounds’ pool of water were three naked women sunbathing.

  “Like that,” Rocket said, following my gaze.

  How was I supposed to be naked around complete strangers? I’d never been the type to shamelessly remove my top at the gym or change in front of my friends. I’d always been self-conscious of my petite body. I suddenly felt the urge to return to the Village, unclean but with my pride intact.

  “I’ll catch you later.” Rocket winked at me and turned the other way.

  I moved farther down the side of the waterfall, away from the naked women, and I slid off my top. I held both breasts in my hands, feeling entirely vulnerable and exposed. With one hand, I awkwardly began pulling at the rope of my pants, when a familiar voice startled me.

  “You must be happy,” Ellie said.

  I turned around so fast that I nearly slipped on the cold stone ground underneath me.

  “Got something to hide?” She raised an eyebrow.

  I realized I was hunched forward, holding onto myself as if afraid my breasts might fall off.

  “I… um,” I tried.

  “I’m not judging,” She slowly slid her leather top above her shoulders and over her head, revealing large round breasts and a softly defined stomach.

  I hadn’t meant to stare, and I immediately felt my cheeks warm to what must have been an uncomfortable shade of red the moment she caught me looking. But this didn’t seem to affect her. She simply smirked then went on to removing her bottoms.

  “These are washable too, you know,” she said, dangling the sun-dried skin between her fingers.

  I nodded quickly, avoiding eye contact.

  “I usually go for a soak at the base of the waterfall. It’s deep enough to walk all the way into,” she said.

  “To wash your clothes?” I asked.

  “To wash everything.”

  I peered toward the waterfall—or at least what I could see of it from this angle—and I noticed that the number of women who had been sunbathing naked had doubled in number.

  “Murk doesn’t want anyone using soaps in the Working Grounds’ pool,” she said, “but salt water still cleanses, so most women opt for a quick bath. The showers lead out into a stream, so it doesn’t affect the pool.” With her big toe, she pointed below, where flat rocks made a stair-like descent, with translucent water trickling out into the jungle.

  I much preferred the idea of using soap. I hadn’t showered in over a week.

  “Are you showering, or what?” She turned away from me to rinse her hair, her hourglass figure shifting from side to side as she moved to catch the falling water.

  I realized I was still holding my chest. I stepped toward the water with my bottoms still in place. I wasn’t ready to expose my nudity like the rest of these women. I flinched at the water’s impact—not because it was heavy in any way, but because it was cold in comparison to the jungle’s hot sticky air.

  “I’d use that up fast, if I were you,” Ellie said.

  I turned toward her, crossing both arms over my chest.

  “The soap,” she said. “This isn’t some cheap-brand pharmacy soap. It’s all natural, and in this heat, it doesn’t last.”

  I opened my right palm, only to find a thick glob remaining; an oily substance leaked through the cracks between my fingers. I understood why most women preferred to use the Working Grounds’ bed of water for bathing—it was essentially free, while showering alongside the waterfall was costly in the sense that each shower required one piece of soap. I couldn’t believe that I’d be spending three years of my life bat
hing in salt water and only occasionally treating myself to an actual shower, which I’d come to realize was a privileged luxury among the Islanders.

  I rubbed the gooey soap all over my body, feeling as though I were taking a shower for the first time in my life. It wasn’t like spreading commercial body wash on your body. The texture was balmy and sleek and smelled of coconut, but it didn’t lather. I could tell Tegan’s concoction was oil-based.

  “See you tonight,” I heard Ellie say.

  My eyes were sealed tight, with soap layering over my entire face, so I waved awkwardly in her direction. The cool water from above rinsed through my sand-infested hair and across my skin, making me feel whole again. I gently rubbed the water out of my eyes, feeling the smooth skin of my face underneath my fingertips, when out of nowhere, an overwhelming sadness came over me. The celebration had made me realize that caring for one’s physical appearance was no longer feasible.

  And I didn’t mind—I mean, I didn’t really care that I wouldn’t be able to straighten my hair; I didn’t care that my hair on my legs would be prickly, if not long and hairy; I didn’t care that my eyebrows wouldn’t be plucked or that I wouldn’t be wearing any makeup; I didn’t care about my personal appearance at all.

  What bothered me the most was that for the next three years, I wouldn’t even be able to see my own face.

  CHAPTER 5

  I wouldn’t have expected to see Murk sitting among her villagers, laughing with her head thrown back, and sipping liquid from a sliced coconut. She’d always been so secretive—so mysteriously hidden in the depth of the Working Grounds’ waterfall or hidden behind the closed door of her cabin at the far end of the Village.

  Seeing her this way opened my eyes to the overlooked reality that she was just like the rest of us: a human being who’d been sentenced to spend years of her life on a remote island, fighting every day to survive among lawless women and predatory animals.

  Being leader didn’t make her immune to emotion or pleasure. I watched as she laughed with Trim, telling stories while pointing out past the Village walls, and for the first time since I’d been dropped onto Kormace Island, I realized how fortunate I was to have been found by Trim and to have been brought into a village led by such an admirable and worthy leader, someone capable of maintaining order while also ensuring comfort and overall happiness.