The Wild Lands

by Paul Greci

  We go back to taking turns swinging our axes. My upper arms are burning and my forearms ache, but I keep pace with Terry. I don’t want to be shown up by an old gray beard. Plus, I need him to think I’m loyal. That I’m inquisitive, but settling in. That I think what we have here is a good thing.

  Later, as we’re putting our tools in the shed, Stan appears and directs us to put the finishing touches on the two identical cabins they’re readying for Max and Tam. We put clean towels and water basins on small tables in each cabin. We make sure the mattresses are stuffed full with dried grass. When we kindle fires in the woodstoves, I swallow down a lump in my throat and turn to Terry. “Does this mean they’ll be here tonight? With their new husbands?”

  Terry nods. “Since we were instructed to light the stoves, it’s a possibility. The laws we laid out are very specific. After the Council reaches consensus, the women take up residence in their cabins. The new husbands are notified secretly that same night and take up residence with their new wives.” Terry starts walking and I match his pace.

  “You mean, when Marcy was paired up, she didn’t know who the guy was until he walked in her cabin door that night?”

  “That’s right,” Terry says, as we walk side by side. “That way, there’s no time for conflict to develop prior to the pairing. The two people have to do their best to get along for the good of the community. And the Council does its best to honor the men and women by choosing who they think will be most suitable for each other. While we’ve been digging potatoes this past week, the Council has been rotating its members and questioning and getting to know the new women. Today, I’m guessing the entire Council met with Stan and he okayed their recommendations. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have lit those fires.”

  We’re outside the entrance to our hut, about to head over to the kitchen hut for our nightly ration of stew, when I spot Max and Tam walking toward the cabins, each escorted by one of the young guards. My legs tense up like I’m getting ready to sprint, and my heart pounds under my shirt. Tonight’s the night.

  CHAPTER

  66

  I WAIT.

  I try to appear relaxed.

  The door to our hut is closed, but I know what I’m hoping to hear. And I hope what I’m going to do afterward won’t destroy their food supply, but I have to hit them where it counts in order to create the biggest diversion I can. The main reason I don’t want to destroy their food supply isn’t because I freaking love all these guys. It’s because of Marcy and her being pregnant. I wouldn’t want her to starve.

  Terry is sitting on his bunk, and Melvin is lying down. He’s the one who I helped with carrying his potatoes since it seems like he can’t walk that well. I wonder how he made it all the way down here from Fairbanks.

  “It all starts tonight,” Terry says.

  Melvin grunts in acknowledgment, then says, “One of the chosen. I hope it’s me.”

  “Maybe it’ll be you and me,” Terry says.

  Melvin says nothing in response.

  Come on, Jess. Come on, I think. The wood shavings jammed into my pockets don’t bother me, but the ones in my underwear are starting to itch. And the hammer shoved partway down the back of my pants and covered by my shirt is starting to dig into my back. At least I got rid of the screwdrivers when we’d readied the cabins. I hope Max and Tam find them under the towels in their cabins.

  “I couldn’t do it,” I say. “I mean, if the girl doesn’t want to be paired up, isn’t that like rape?”

  “According to Marcy’s now-deceased husband, she didn’t protest,” Terry says. “She knew it was for the good of everyone. She knows her role.”

  “But if someone does protest?” I ask. “What would you guys do? Would you try to put a stop to the pairing?” I know I’m pushing it here, but figure I can at least leave them with something to think about.

  Terry looks at me. “I guess we’ll cross that bridge if we come to it. Sometimes you’ve got to do things for the good of the community, even if they aren’t things you’d do otherwise.”

  He sounds so high and mighty. Like marrying someone against their will is taking the high road.

  “What if it was your daughter?” I ask. “How would you feel then?”

  “If we want the community to thrive, we have to follow through on what we’ve set up. We have to give the system an opportunity to work.” Terry pauses. “If I had a daughter, she’d have to follow the rules, too.”

  I’m thinking about how to respond when a scream, followed by a call for help, cuts through the night air.

  “That sounds like my sister. Come on,” I say to Terry and Melvin. Then I run out the door.

  CHAPTER

  67

  I CATCH A GLIMPSE OF Jess running toward Stan’s hut, screaming about Marcy bleeding, just as planned. I sprint toward the potato storage shed, hoping that Max and Tam will be making their getaway from their cabins as soon as I create my diversion.

  I see other silhouettes of people moving in the direction of Stan’s hut. The people I’m most worried about are the young guys and Dylan. I just hope what I’m going to do will draw them toward me.

  Behind the potato shed I empty my pockets of wood shavings. Then I unbutton my pants and dump more shavings from my underwear. I strike a match from the box I’ve stolen from our hut and drop it on the shavings. They catch and start burning. The wind feeds the fire and soon it’s climbing up the wall toward the roof.

  I hear Jess scream “Fire,” and then several shouts for buckets and water. Then I hear a couple other screams. I turn toward the maple jungle and start to sprint and my feet are swept out from under me. I hit the ground hard and roll. I’m on my side, about to stand, but then someone lands on top of me. I feel his face against my cheek, and I grab his nose as hard as I can and pull.

  I hear a cry of pain from whoever it is, and I keep pulling on his nose until his head is level with mine.

  “Basic,” he says, his voice a gravelly whisper. I shift my body in an attempt to break free, but Dylan’s not budging. With my other hand, I pull the hammer out of the back of my pants and slam it on top of his head. His body jerks once like he’s received an electric shock, but he’s still on top of me. I hit him on the head again as hard as I can, and his hand on my other arm goes limp.

  “Asshole,” I whisper as I push him off me.

  I stand up. I can see people approaching the potato shed with buckets. The flames have reached the roof. For Marcy’s sake, I hope they’ll be able to put the fire out before it burns up all their food. But more so, I hope Max and Jess and Tam are all heading for the maple jungle in different directions as planned.

  I hear more footsteps pounding my way, so I turn and start running in the darkness. A shot rings out and hot pain stabs the back of my upper arm, but I just keep going. There’s nothing more I can do.

  CHAPTER

  68

  IT’S FREAKING PITCH-BLACK DARK IN the jungle. I hope the arson, the false alarm about Marcy bleeding, and now Dylan being injured or dead will be enough to keep everyone more than busy.

  Our plan was to take off, each in a different direction, but to eventually meet up at the yellow cliffs. I have no way of knowing if Jess, Max, and Tam have escaped.

  Jess was supposed to cut her hand on the sly, sneak some blood on Marcy’s bedding, and sound the alarm. As everyone was focusing on getting to Marcy, the fire was supposed to divert some of them. Max, Tam, and Jess were supposed to slip off in the confusion.

  Hitting Dylan with a hammer wasn’t part of the plan. I didn’t plan on killing anyone, but if I had to choose between killing him and getting my sister the hell out of there, I’d kill him. Still, I have this sick feeling in my gut from remembering the thud of that hammer on his skull. I don’t know if he’s dead, but I hit him hard.

  I’m moving slowly in the darkness, trying not to make any noise, and struggling to ignore the pain in my arm. I know I’m bleeding, but it doesn’t seem to be slowing me down. Plus, I can’t move ve
ry fast anyway because I can’t see anything.

  I wonder how Jess is doing on her own in the pitch-black. Maybe we should’ve run off in pairs? But I figured if we all split up, they’d have a harder time coming after us. If Dylan actually survived and told his story, maybe they’d focus their hunt on the direction I took, which would be fine by me. And since someone shot at me, maybe they are already on my tail.

  My initial burst of energy is fading, and my legs feel like lead as I pick my way through the maples. Branches slap my face and tangle my legs. The back of my arm has settled into a steady ache, like there’s a piece of hot metal resting against it. When I touch it, my hand comes back sticky.

  I’m climbing a small hill now, working my way in the direct opposite direction of the yellow cliffs. I’ll have to circle back eventually, but not until I’m so far away that if someone spots me, they’ll have a hard time guessing where I’m heading.

  On top of the maple-covered hill I stop to rest, to observe, to listen. Steam is rising in the darkness where they’ve put the fire out. At least I assume it’s out since I can’t see any flames. And then below me, I hear something. I lean forward and cup my ears. Some leaves crinkle. A branch snaps.

  They’re coming.

  For me.

  CHAPTER

  69

  HOURS LATER, I’M STILL CRASHING through the dark. I don’t stop to listen but just keep going. They can move through the maples as fast as I can, and stopping will just allow them to gain on me.

  I feel rocks underfoot, so I run my hand along the ground and scoop one up. Then I take the rock and throw it as hard as I can, up through the branches and off to one side, hoping that the noise from the landing rock will make my pursuers change course. I do this several times in succession and then keep going.

  The gray of pre-dawn is taking over the sky. The earth has worked through its rotation, and our side of the planet is coming around to the sun again. At the same time, I notice that the maples are thinning, and up ahead is a clearing. It’s the big clearing I was marched through at gunpoint to get here.

  If I cross the clearing, whoever is following will have a way better chance of seeing me. Plus, at some point I need to circle around and work my way back toward the yellow cliffs. I haven’t decided if I’m going to go east or west to get to the cliffs. And I don’t know how far away from the compound to be when I circle back. Tam and Max—one had gone east, the other west, and Jess straight south to the yellow cliffs. At least that was the plan.

  The plan. The plan. The plan. Did any of them even escape?

  My mouth is dry. I hope I’ll cross a stream or walk by a lake. I’ll drink out of puddles, too. It doesn’t matter. I probe the back of my arm through a jagged rip in my shirt. It feels like sand on top of a drying mud puddle. And it burns when I touch it. I hold my arm out straight and twist it, trying to see the injured spot, but I can’t. So I keep examining it with my fingers, searching for an entry hole, but don’t find one. Maybe the bullet only grazed me.

  My mind shoots back to Jess, and Tam, and Max. Did they get shot at? Did they get away? The more those thoughts burn into my brain, the more I need to know. What if I get to the yellow cliffs and no one is there? Or what if Tam and Max appear but Jess doesn’t? Or only Max and Jess make it? Or only Tam and Jess? Would we go back and try to free the other or others, or would we move on? Can you realistically have a second chance at a thing like this?

  If anyone has been caught, they’ll be guarding them even closer.

  I want to know what the score is before I go to the yellow cliffs. Can I sneak back and observe? If any of the cabins are in use, I’d know that Max or Tam or both of them have been caught, or never made it out in the first place. But I wouldn’t know how to tell if Jess is there. What if Tam and Max are back with Stan’s group but Jess isn’t, and then I get caught spying? I’d be abandoning Jess. I can’t do that.

  Okay, I think. I need to go to the cliffs first, wait there and see. Stick with the plan.

  I hate this. I never should’ve split up from Jess. At the time, it seemed like a good plan. I feel my heart beating in my ears, my empty stomach burning with acid. And where the bullet grazed me, a heated vice squeezes my upper arm.

  I think a little more about the plan, and then I know that if Jess doesn’t show up, I’ll have to go back. But if Max or Tam doesn’t show, what will I do?

  CHAPTER

  70

  THE YELLOW CLIFFS ARE A dark mustard color in the pre-sunrise light. I picked my way through the maples all day yesterday and all last night. I’m pretty sure I’m not being followed anymore, but if Jess or Tam or Max has been followed and they are as close to the cliffs as I am, then you never know who might be around.

  I’m studying the cliffs from an angle, searching for anything that might be a sign. And I’m looking for some kind of opening that doesn’t look like an opening—for the place Wendy and Ellen used to come. The old road they used to take has to run close to here.

  The sun pops over the horizon straight into my eyes. With my hands I make a visor to block the blinding light, and I see a tiny fold in the rocks about a third of the way down the cliff face and wonder if that’s the spot. And if it is, how did Wendy and Ellen access it? Do the people in the compound know about Wendy and Ellen’s natural shelter?

  I know the cliffs are visible from the valley because I could see them from the potato fields, but they’re far enough away that it’d be tough to pick out something as small as a person from way down there. Still, it comes down to this: Do I make myself visible for someone else to see, or do I wait and see if someone else takes the risk?

  Theoretically, I had the longest route to get here since my path out of the valley was directly opposite the cliffs. Jess, who is the slowest walker, had the shortest route.

  Maybe my dad would’ve sat and waited until someone else made the move. He’d have churned it over in his mind and wouldn’t have risked getting caught, because he thought he was so vital to our survival. Maybe in this situation my dad would’ve made a better plan. But my plan has worked so far, at least for me. I shake my head; this is no way to be thinking. If the girls don’t make it, then my plan has failed. I’ve failed.

  I take a baby step forward. And then another, trying to be silent. I step sideways between two maples, picking my feet up and then putting them down like the ground is made of a thin glass sheet that I don’t want to break. It seems like it takes me an hour to walk a hundred feet.

  At the edge of the maples, the last possible place I can stop before being seen, I pause. I wipe my watering eyes, then step into the sun.

  I want to walk all over that cliff top and stare into the valley, study the compound for movement. And take big gulps of air in the open space, because being in the maples is so claustrophobic. Everywhere you turn there’s a leaf in your face or a tangle of branches to navigate. Instead, I continue to stand at the very edge, ready to melt into the jungle if the wrong person appears.

  CHAPTER

  71

  COME ON, I THINK. COME on, I hope.

  Anyone. Jess. Max. Tam. No way could they have taken as long as I did to get here. And if they aren’t here now, then they’ll never get here. If just one of them made it. My forehead tightens as I squint across the clearing, hoping for some kind of sign. I wish we had all left together. I resist the urge to call out their names even though my mind is screaming them over and over.

  Then I see movement across the clearing—a few leaves shaking—directly opposite me. A small face materializes and my heart jumps. I’m staring at Tam’s sparkling eyes and high cheekbones. I swallow the lump in my throat.

  Our eyes lock. Tam smiles at me, and all I want is to hold her and tell her how much I’ve missed her and how much I like her. She’s strong and fast and brave and has endless stores of energy. If anyone was going to escape, it would’ve been her.

  Then, like magic, Max’s face appears next to Tam’s. She’s beaming at me and I’m returning the
smile. I’ve missed her, too. I don’t know if Jess would’ve been able to slog through all that swamp without Max’s support. Below Tam’s other shoulder, I see some more movement, and Jess’s blond hair pokes out of the jungle of branches and leaves, and I have to stop myself from screaming for joy. I want to run across the clearing separating us and swing her in the air, but I know that’d just put us in danger. I’ll have to work my way around the edge, just inside the trees, in case anyone from the compound is close by.

  I point with my arm, then fade into the branches behind me and work my way toward them.

  I hear branches snapping and know the girls are moving toward me. Max appears first and almost knocks me over with a hug. I hug her back. She feels strong, like she could carry me the rest of the way to the coast if she had to.

  Behind her Tam pops into view, so I weasel out of Max’s grip, and now Tam’s in my arms, her firm body pressing against mine. She just hangs on, her arms around my lower back, her head buried in my neck, her nose nudging my Adam’s apple, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world and my whole body is hungry and buzzing. I want to cup her face in my hands and kiss her lips forever, but over her shoulder I see Jess barreling at me so I separate from Tam and take a step sideways toward Jess.

  Tam’s eyes meet mine for an instant as I move away, but before I can say anything, Jess’s airborne body slams into me. She wraps her legs around my midsection and collapses into my chest. I stumble and Tam catches my shoulder so I don’t fall. Now I feel like I’ve come home.

  I hold Jess for a long minute, then set her down and whisper, “All three of you here? At the same time? That’s amazing.” I can’t believe the plan worked out so well.