His gun doesn’t waver. “Where’d you come from?”
“Washington DC was the last big place we went through. We’re heading north.”
“And what’s so interesting up north?”
I grapple to find a plausible explanation that will get us out of trouble. Somehow, I think babbling about finding an army might just make us sound crazy. That’s what everyone else has thought about our ideas.
Something comes to me. “We’ve been south and haven’t found anything interesting. We thought we might be able to make a home up north.”
He takes longer to reply this time, putting some thought into his response. “You’ve come through the wrong town, then. This is our home and we don’t take kindly to strangers.”
“We will leave immediately if you help us out of here,” I reply.
The standoff between us stretches out from seconds into minutes. All I can focus on are the gun barrels. They could easily decide to shoot us as quickly as let us go. It’s not like they have a reason to trust us.
“Please,” I urge. “We really didn’t mean to do anything wrong. We’ll never come back here again.”
“Or tell anyone,” Garlind adds.
“I have a problem with that,” the guy replies. “You see, people tend to lie a lot around here. They say they won’t tell but then more people show up. I don’t have a good history with trusting people.”
“You can trust us.” My words sound like a weak argument, even to me. But there is no way to show them we are trustworthy so my promise is all I have.
“Wait a minute.” A female voice drifts over as a girl steps around the guys and peers over the edge of the pit. Her face is dirty and her clothes are little more than rags.
“Get back,” the guy orders.
But she doesn’t. Instead, she grabs the flashlight from the boy holding it and points it directly in our faces. The beam is too bright in the darkness, even with squinting.
“Maisy? Garlind?” the female asks.
I hold up a hand to shield my eyes from the light and take a closer look at her features. Recognition twinges in the dark recesses of my mind.
When the connection is made, I can barely believe it. “Clare?”
“I thought you were both dead,” she replies.
I haven’t seen Clare since that horrible night in the middle of nowhere when we were attacked in the middle of the night. The gang of boys that took us by surprise were acting in retaliation because Clare’s boyfriend, River, killed one of their own in self-defense.
“I thought you were dead too,” I reply. I still don’t believe my eyes. But everything from her delicate features to the sweet tone of her voice is familiar to me.
I thought she’d been killed. There had been so much blood on the road when I returned to find her. I didn’t think anybody could have survived that much blood loss.
“Is River here too?” I ask hopefully. I’m the first to admit I wasn’t her boyfriend’s biggest fan, but I saw enough redeeming features in him to know his heart was in the right place.
Even in the dimness of the room, I can see her smile turn into a frown. Dread sits pitifully in my stomach. “They killed him,” she mutters.
“I’m so sorry.”
She clenches her jaw together, refusing to give in to the tears that are probably pricking her eyes right now. She just nods and swallows.
River was the gang’s main target. They seemed to believe in an eye for an eye. He killed one of theirs so they had to kill him. They were horrible people. It didn’t matter that he did it in self-defense. That it was the other guy that attacked River first—and threatened Clare’s life too.
River might not have been a saint, but he didn’t deserve to die like that either. I’m saddened to hear that my worst fears about what had happened to him were true.
There is no time to dwell on it now. The guy with the gun is getting impatient as he interrupts us. “You know these people?” He directs his question at Clare.
She nods.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t shoot them right now,” he says.
Her eyes open wide in startled surprise. “I’ll give you twenty but right now I can honestly say I vouch for them. They are nice people.”
“Nice doesn’t keep everyone here alive, Clare. Tell me who they really are.”
Something in his tone has sparked her alive. “They are two kids who are just trying to survive. They wouldn’t harm a fly, let alone any of us. You shouldn’t need anything other than my word.”
Even I’m surprised by the harsh tone of her voice. The guy seems like the leader here and she’s just spoken to him like he’s a petulant toddler. I completely expect some kind of retaliation from him. Maybe a slap to the face or at least some blatant threats.
But he does none of these things. Instead, he lowers his gun and takes a step backward. “Clare says she vouches for them, men. So we’re going to get them out of the pit and give them a free meal.”
Clare reacts with a simple nod and the others all do as he says. They point their guns to the floor and back away. The man closest to Clare comes forward and offers us his hand.
This feels like another trap. Maybe an even bigger one than the big hole in the floor. Still, we’re not in a position to argue and we really need to get out of this pit.
Garlind helps me to reach the guy’s hand and pushes me upwards. I scramble over the lip of the hole and get on my feet quickly. Garlind follows a few moments later—far more elegantly than I did it.
The men stand back and watch us leave with wary eyes. They don’t trust us at all but don’t argue when Clare leads us away. I’m still waiting for the catch. Some reason they’ll find to say they were only joking.
Maybe they’ll shoot us in the back?
Every step away surprises me. I’m going to have to get the whole story from Clare to understand what just happened. It was too easy and nothing in this world is easy anymore.
We’re led through the town and down a few streets. A chain-link fence has been erected that runs from a two-story building to the end of the block. It has to be relatively new—the individual fence pieces are a mishmash ranging in sizes and heights. No vines have overtaken them yet.
Clare locates a small piece that is on hinges. She swings it open and ushers us inside. Beyond the fence are more houses like the ones on the opposite side but well kept. These ones are obviously lived in now and not two decades in the past.
“What is this place?” I finally ask. We have no intention of staying, but I’m curious anyway. If Clare has chosen it as her home, there must be something here that keeps her attention.
She doesn’t stop walking as she talks. “They call it the Precinct. It’s a few blocks that act as a kind of family. They look out for each other. The Precinct comes first, that’s the only motto they believe in.”
“Don’t the aliens ever find it?” Garlind asks.
That makes Clare stops. “What do you mean, aliens?”
I forgot she wasn’t with us when we reached Charleston. That’s when our eyes were opened to the aliens and their terrible deeds. She must still be in the dark about them.
Garlind explains, as gently as possible. “All those flying ships we saw, they didn’t belong to humans. They are filled with aliens from another planet. They’re trying to kill us all.”
She stares for a moment, unblinking, before laughing. “Yeah, sure, aliens. Have you gone mad since I last saw you? Maisy, do you believe this stuff?”
Clare looks at me expectantly. I really want to deny it so she can go on living in blissful innocence but that’s not going to keep her safe. If they don’t know about the aliens, they won’t know how to protect themselves from an attack. And I know they will attack eventually, they always do.
“He’s telling the truth,” I reply. “We’ve seen the aliens with our own eyes. They’re real and they are very much trying to wipe the planet of all humans so they can completely take over.”
He
r mouth hangs open as words fail her. She’s not laughing anymore. “I guess we need to catch up, then. It sounds like you have a lot to tell me.”
“I think we do too,” Garlind says.
She stares for a few more moments as she regains her composure. “Are you hungry?” We both nod eagerly. “Come on, I’ll get you some food and then we can have a real talk.”
Clare points out some of the features of the Precinct as we walk. Everyone here has a room in shared homes. People are matched by their personalities so the conflicts within the houses are minimized. She lives in a single-floor home that she shares with six other people—all women.
There is one central house that is used for ‘community matters’ which includes a kitchen, recreation area, and a training yard. Everybody is expected to contribute and they can stay as long as they like, providing they follow the rules.
The Precinct comes first, that’s rule number one.
All the other rules are more fundamental. Don’t steal. Don’t leave without telling someone where you’re going and when you’ll be back. If you don’t contribute, you don’t eat. Everyone must be trained in weapons and protection.
I can see why Clare feels at home here. Without River to protect her, she was probably very lost. They’d grown up together, she wouldn’t have known a life without him. Here, things are structured. She can privately grieve while having people around her that make life more comfortable.
She takes us to the community building and arranges for our meals. We are sitting down at a table eating some kind of bean dish in no time.
“How’d you get away from that gang?” I ask after only two bites of the food. I want to savor every part of the meal and make it last as long as possible.
“They took me away with River,” she starts. “We were dragged all the way to their camp and then separated. They killed him sometime afterwards. They brought me his head to prove it and said I was next.”
I want to vomit. The beans don’t look nearly as appetizing now. Poor Clare and what she has been through. I can’t imagine how horrible it would have been to see her boyfriend’s head like that. It would have been heartbreaking.
“I’m so sorry,” I say. My words sound empty. There is nothing I can tell her that will make up for her ordeal.
Her eyes redden but tears don’t fall. “Something kicked in when they did that. I was determined not to let them do anything to me. I waited until they left and then did everything I could to escape. When I got my chance, I took it. I still don’t really know how I was lucky enough to make it.”
“How’d you end up here?” Garlind asks. I suspect he’s trying to change the subject to something a lot less harrowing. River was his friend too, none of us want to imagine how he died.
She takes a breath that seems to steady her again. “When I got away, I just ran. I didn’t care where I went or how far I got. I just wanted to be away from that gang. I know it might sound weird but I felt like River guided me here. Like he knew I’d be safe and okay here.”
I reach across the table and place a hand over hers. “It’s not weird at all. There are plenty of people that believe our souls continue on. He probably did guide you.”
She offers me a small smile. “Thanks.”
“I mean it.”
She takes another deep breath. “So I got here and they took me in. I was such a sight. I’d been running for days and had barely looked after myself. My skin was full of cuts and bruises from what they did to me. I was covered in dirt and probably looked like a wild woman. Still, they told me the rules and then allocated me to a room. I’ve been here ever since.”
“They have a lot of respect for your opinion too, it seems,” I comment, thinking how quickly that guy had backed away when she vouched for us.
“That’s Buddy. He likes to think he’s a big shot. I let him show off in front of me and pretend he’s as cool as he thinks he is,” Clare replies. “It’s good to have people on your side here. It makes a difference.”
I look around the room and take everything in for the first time as I eat my beans slowly. Clare’s story might have made me sick, but I’m still too starving to refuse good food.
There are five other people in the dining area. They are all staring at us over their plates. I guess they aren’t used to seeing new people around here.
As much as Clare likes this place, I can’t help but feel supremely uncomfortable. It’s natural for a group of people to want to protect what they have, but do they have to look at us with such blatant distrust?
It’s not like we have any weapons or anything.
All we have are the clothes on our backs and even they aren’t worth anything. The holes let in more air that the fabric keeps out and we’re in desperate need of a bath. We certainly don’t appear to be any kind of threat to them.
A loud noise at the other end of the community building snatches my attention. I turn, just in time to see one man push another on the chest. He’s shoved so hard he falls backwards onto a chair and crumples to the ground.
“Take it outside!” an older woman yells at them.
The men—who appear to be in their twenties—scramble to get outside where they continue the argument. I can see them through the window, fists and legs flying in all direction as they fight.
More people gather around them, egging them on.
Nobody stops them.
“I thought fighting wasn’t allowed?” I ask, unable to take my eyes off them.
“You can make a formal challenge,” Clare explains. “That’s how matters are settled here. One person will win.”
“And the other?”
“They usually don’t make it out of the ring.”
“They fight to the death?”
Clare nods. “It seems to work around here. You only make a challenge when it’s something big. Otherwise, you have to just get over it.”
It might work, but that doesn’t mean it’s the right thing to do. There are enough problems in this world, let along fighting to the death over whatever issue someone deems important enough.
I had a feeling this place was too good to be true. I guess I just found the sticking point.
More people are attracted to the fight like moths to a flame. The noise level raises until it’s a united cheer from those gathered. It’s difficult to tell which man they are rooting for—if any. It seems they are just enjoying the violence.
Clare gives me an apologetic look. “Every time I see a fight like this it reminds me of that gang.”
“Why doesn’t someone try to stop them?” I ask.
She shrugs. “It’s the way it’s done here. And it seems to work. Nobody else wants it any other way.”
One of the men lands a particularly hard blow to the other man’s head and he falls to the ground with a thud. I turn away so I don’t have to see anything else. It’s bad enough to know one of them is going to die and the other is going to be the murderer. I don’t have to watch it too.
Garlind has different thoughts. “I’m going to stop them. He’s going to get killed.”
Before I can beg him to reconsider, Garlind charges off and is through the door. He steps into the ring and places himself between the two men.
Fear freezes me in place. I sure do love that boy, but he really is stupid sometimes. It’s not his fight and clearly he’s not going to achieve anything out there.
I guess I love him because he tries anyway.
Clare leaps from her chair and hurries after him. I manage to move enough to catch up with her. I can only hope she can help Garlind out so he doesn’t get hurt by either of the men.
The crowd are booing now the fight has paused. They yell every swear word under the sun at him so he’ll move away and the bloodshed can continue. He pays them no attention.
Garlind is still between the men when Clare tugs on his arm. “Leave them be, Garlind. You can’t do anything here.” She turns to the crowd and then speaks in a louder voice. “He’s new here, he doesn’t
know all the rules yet. We’ll be going now.”
She tugs him again and I silently will Garlind to go with her. I truly believe in doing the right thing at all times, but there also needs to be some sense of self-survival. My mother would say it was called Picking Your Battles.
Garlind right now is picking any and all battles. No matter the odds against him.
He takes a step and Clare seizes on the opportunity. She pulls him along harder until they are both outside the ring.
The crowd cheer but quieten when one of the men strides over to Garlind. He stabs a finger against his chest and gets right up to his face. “I challenge you tomorrow to fight.”
Everyone whistles their approval.
I feel all my fears rush through my body.
It’s a fight to the death and I know Garlind won’t kill anybody.
He’s as good as dead.
Chapter 5
“I’m not going to fight you,” Garlind replies. Not because he would lose but because he doesn’t believe in the whole concept.
“Too bad,” the man sneers. He spits on the ground and resumes the fight he was in the middle of before Garlind interrupted them.
Everyone forgets about Clare and Garlind as she drags him back into the dining hall. I rush over to them, ready to give the boy a piece of my mind.
“They’re going to kill you,” I say bluntly.
Garlind shakes his head. “I’m not going to fight.”
“Then they will definitely kill you,” Clare says. “You can’t refuse a fight. That’s a rule. You’re going to have to fight Blair tomorrow whether you like it or not.”
Gaze flickers over to the fight outside where Blair has his opponent back on the ground. He’s only seconds away from landing the fatal blow that will end the whole thing.
I look back at Garlind and imagine him in that poor man’s place. Come tomorrow, this will be our reality and I’m going to lose him forever.
The whole thing is absurd.
“I’ll explain to him later on what I was doing and he can take back the challenge,” Garlind says calmly. Way too calmly. He has no idea this is really going to happen. We have to play by the rules at the Precinct. Otherwise we’re dead anyway.
After The End Page 44
