The sun was beginning to fall. He quickly went to work. Opening the townhouse door to the prisoners, we watched him emerge with Dr. Mayhew and get to work. Immediately, they went for the huts. Both of them were equipped with spray bottles with a milky-looking solution. They sprayed inside the huts all over. Then they went to the apartment buildings and sprayed inside. We watched as they emerged from the apartment buildings and returned to the hut that Smith collected the solution from in the first place.
Next, they came out with a large bucket that took both of them to carry. Careful not to spill any, they reached the water tank that Leslie had set up to keep everyone from wandering to the creek for water all the time. Dr. Mayhew handed up the bucket after Smith climbed the ladder. We watched through the binoculars as he dumped the solution into the water, then let out a long sigh.
He looked around, squinting his eyes as he appeared to scrutinize his surroundings, then quickly climbed down. We could see Dr. Mayhew urge him to hurry as he suddenly looked behind himself. We couldn’t figure out what was happening, until Leslie came into view. His entourage shadowed behind him a couple yards back. Apparently, Leslie didn’t go anywhere alone these days. Smart on his part, or someone might take advantage of the situation. I certainly would.
Confidently strolling toward Dr. Mayhew and Smith, Leslie’s demeanor was that of a host of a dramatic television show. It was like he needed applause in the background to begin to speak. We, of course, couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I knew it couldn’t be good. Dr. Mayhew surely wasn’t supposed to be roaming free. Someone had assuredly told Leslie about Smith warning them. Nothing about this added up to a good situation.
We watched them talk for a bit, until Leslie whistled for help. Four men came out to grab Smith and Dr. Mayhew by each arm. My heart couldn’t handle it anymore. I knew what Leslie would do to them, I had seen it. His anger would get the best of him and he would have them killed. I had to go.
Leaping down from the tree, I took off in a dash toward them. I could hear Garrett drop down behind me, and whisper-yell my name. “Aella! Aella, stop! Damn it!” His footsteps came fast behind me as I breached the tree line into the field, headed straight toward Leslie and his goons.
When I realized how many of them there were, I panicked, but it was too late. I had been seen, and Smith had no other way out. I had to do something. Coming up on them quick, I noticed Sierra and Ronald dash out of the trees toward us as well. Gaining some confidence at the sight of the two of them, I leaned my head down and charged.
First, I took out the guy to the right of Smith with the force of my body careening toward him, then picked myself up to slam my fist into his stomach. He cried out in pain as I heard the other men yell out about the same time as my friends had taken them down. Smith turned to help, but one of the goons kicked at his left leg and broke it.
Shit, I thought. I rushed to his side before he tumbled to the ground. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, and I held onto him. We tried to move quickly toward the tree line, but with a hobble and a weakling, we weren’t making good time. Suddenly, the load seemed to free up a bit, and I felt relief. Glancing to my side around Smith, I saw Garrett, throwing Smith’s arm around his shoulder, as he gave me a nod.
We moved quicker from then on, and I heard commotion from behind us. Was it Sierra and Ronald leaving? Had Leslie backed down? Were they still fighting? I had no idea what was happening, but I couldn’t look back. I held onto Smith and kept trucking forward—until his weight crashed down on top of me in response to the gunshot that rang out.
Chapter Ten
I looked up in shock, only to see Smith’s arm in my way. His groans and mumbles were muffled through his tangled body lying on the hard ground. I shot a glance over to the other side of Smith as I struggled out from under his arm only to see Garrett lying there, lifeless. The gunshot wound went right through his back on the left side, directly through the left side of his chest. His eyes were set wide open. His once-vibrant brown eyes that had captivated me before, were empty.
“No!” I screamed, as I clambered over Smith. “No! Please, no. I can’t lose you. Garrett? Garrett!” My own screams gave me chills, but then I heard their footsteps behind us. I thought for a moment that it might be Leslie’s men coming to get me. I thought maybe I needed to run, then decided I didn’t care. I had already lost. I loved Garrett and they’d taken him from me before we’d had a chance. I had to do something. I scrambled up to his chest and yelled his name. He had to wake up. “Garrett!” I screamed as loudly as I could. I began chest compressions. I was trying as hard as I could, but nothing was working. Nothing was changing. Panic was taking over me and there was nothing I could do. Tears streamed down my face as I repeated his name over and over.
I felt hands grab my arms and lift me.
“No!” I screamed back toward Garrett’s limp body. “Please!” I begged. The hands still carried me away, and I saw Ronald lift Smith from the ground. I looked beside me to see Sierra dragging me along. Gunshots came through the trees, aimed toward Leslie and his gang, making it impossible for them to chase us. I gathered myself as much as I could and ran. My gaze was fixed behind me, toward the blood flowing into the earth.
When we reached the tree line, we had immediate assistance from our team. They had obviously been waiting, which meant they’d been watching for a while as well. We were whisked away without question. I didn’t remember how we lost Leslie’s crew, but we did. I didn’t remember the trip through the woods—it was all a blur—but I remembered lying next to a fire, alone.
No one said a word to me that night. There was nothing they could say. Nothing that would take the pain away. I assumed Sierra knew that best of all of them, but even she didn’t offer condolences or sympathy. Nothing. Hours passed, and my body ached. Not only from running, fighting and falling, but from sobbing. My ribs prickled every time I breathed a raspy breath in through the sniffles and clenching of my abdomen until I couldn’t take it any longer. It was my fault he had been out there. All mine...and it was Smith’s fault he couldn’t run, I thought.
I stared into the blazing fire with a mix of emotions. Loneliness came in at the top. What followed after, though, was a fight. A fight between what was wrong and what was right. How I felt, and how I didn’t feel. Did I love him? Did he love me? Was I angry with him? Was I upset with myself? Was I making this more than it was? Was this Smith’s fault, or worse, was it mine? Or was it neither? Did I have a right to be angry with myself? Did I have a right to be angry at Smith? Whether I had a right or not, I felt hatred for us both.
The hair on the back of my neck stood up as I heard loud creaking noises from the obvious sound of splints groaning accompanied by repetitive grunts of exertion passing by the campfire until sitting down across from me with a stifled gasp of pain. I didn’t look up to see who it was. I knew exactly who it was. I listened for their words that would undoubtedly be useless.
“Aella, I’m sorry.” Smith spoke quietly. “For what it’s worth, you and he both saved my life, and I’m forever grateful. I know I’ll never be able to repay him, or you, for that matter, but I’m going to do my damn best to try.” Once he finished, he struggled to his feet, and limped away. He didn’t ask for an apology and didn’t offer sympathy. For that, unbeknownst to him, I would be forever grateful. I couldn’t speak, and he knew why. Once he was out of earshot from me, I bawled.
Letting go was one of the hardest things I’d ever done. Letting go of my emotions, to feel. Letting go of the control to allow myself to grieve. Letting go of Garrett, was tough. That night, I let it all out. I wept until my cheeks were raw from the tears and my lungs couldn’t take it anymore. In the morning, I was a different person.
HARDENED FROM THE GRIEF and loss, I took up arms with the refugees from Leslie’s camp. They looked up at me as I strode in under the ledge of the cliff where we were keeping them. They rolled their eyes, looking disinterested until I demanded, “Get up! Now!” The faint growl i
n my voice shot them to their feet quickly. Their eyes were wide open and shocked, like they had just woken up.
“Leslie has taken everything. Everything. You may be here because he’s taken everything from you. You may be here because you feel like he’s wrong. You may be here because you want to be on the winning side. You may be here because you like a good fight...but I don’t care. I don’t care one bit why you’re here. Do you know why?” Every word that came from my throat ground my hatred into my speech to them. Stunned faces returned my steely glare. “It’s because I want to kill him. I don’t care why. I just need it done. Do you understand?” Again, I was faced with ‘deer-in-the-headlights eyes.' “Did you hear me?” I yelled. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am!” they replied collectively.
“If you’re with me, there’s going to be no questions asked. That’s it. You do as you're told, or you’re gone. I don’t have time to babysit you. I don’t have time to reprimand you, and I don’t have the manpower to always have someone from our team chaperone you. So, it comes down to this: either you’re on our team or you’re not. If you are, I’m going to put my trust in you, and you’re going to help me kill Leslie. If you’re not on my team, you will die quickly. If you say you’re on my team, and you’re really not, I promise you I won’t hesitate to swing this damn axe right into your stupid skull. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” they said.
“If you’re with me, follow me, now. We have work to do. If you’re not, go home. I’m giving you one chance. This won’t happen again.”
The group stood, anxiously watching me. No one moved a muscle.
“And by the way, the gunshots in the woods didn’t go unnoticed last night. Next time you disobey my orders, you’re done. Understand?”
The men nodded.
“All right,” I said. A grin swept across my face. I’d never felt so delighted, or evil, in my life. “Let’s go get him, then.”
I took off through the woods, directly to our headquarters. They were going to win unless we picked up the pace, and that was my way of doing just that. Taking a risk. Opening myself up. I was ready for the fight to be over, and preparations began immediately. Arriving back at the campsite, we were greeted with shocked looks and disgust.
“Get used to it,” I said. “If you have a better option, keep it to yourself because it’s too late. We’re either in this or we’re not, and I’m in it. If you don’t like it, get lost.” I was done playing the diplomatic leader. I wanted the son-of-a-bitch dead. Now.
Implements were made to fight. Spears were fashioned in the most primitive way possible, their tips coated with poisonous berries from the nutritional team. We had to be creative, since we only had three guns with forty-three rounds of ammo. We had our science to fight with, but we had used up a lot of the resources available to us, and if they failed, we didn’t want to be on our asses. It had to be hand-to-hand combat, and we wanted to give ourselves the best chance possible. Assuming the virus would have them all weakened, we were sure that small weapons would be enough.
Using the old map Idris had made of Circadia, I rounded up teams and assigned outpost points that best fit with the geography of the land. Everything was planned out perfectly. Now, all we had to do was wait, and we agreed to do just that for seven days, giving the virus time to incubate and take full effect. Until then, we would rally and stay hidden. Hiding was easy in the cave, and it gave us all a chance to become a team again. Becoming familiar was great as we prepared for the circadian rhythm of the planet to turn black once more. We knew the darkness would come, and we prepared. We had all seen it before and knew it would be back. Meat and plants were available, dried by the fire. Tons of firewood and fire starter were stacked in various areas to prepare for the bitter cold.
As we stacked the last bit of firewood in neat piles, I noticed my shadow cast out onto the ground in a way that was unnatural to the sun’s normal orbit. Looking up into the sky, we watched as Earth slowly overcame the sun inch by inch, until it was completely shrouded. Instantly the air felt cooler, and everything seemed just a bit bleaker. Garrett wasn’t there to keep me warm at night anymore; it would be just me now, and that made the cold sting a little bit more. From now on, I would be on my own in the bitter air.
It would be another week before we would begin to see the sun again, so we all settled in. That night by the light of the fire, I was accompanied by a man from Leslie’s crew that had defected. He was a large, muscular man with a red beard and well-kept hair. He spoke with an accent common to Scotland from Earth. “I can’t thank you enough for putting your trust in us. We owe you,” he said.
“Yes, you do,” I replied. “Hopefully it won’t be too hard to pay me back, though. Of course, you already started the first day you showed up when you helped get us out of that situation against orders.” I gave him a wink and looked back at the fire.
He chuckled a bit. “I’d like for us to be a family. A team. A unit,” he said. “The night before me and my team were shipped up here to Circadia, we all pledged to each other that we would do whatever needed to be done to do right up here. As a token of our permanent oath, we all got tattoos as a symbol. A symbol of our promise,” he said. He held out his left forearm and lifted his sleeve to show three circles intertwined.
“What do the circles stand for?” I asked.
“Earth, Moon, Circadia,” he answered.
“I see,” I said. “So, you knew what the darkness meant when you came here? And you came, anyway?”
“Yes, we knew what was causing the darkness. We took it as a challenge. It’s kind of beautiful, don’t you think? Everything that exists here on Circadia has to earn it. The trees have to adapt, or they die. The grass has to grow harder and stronger than anything we’ve ever seen on Earth or it’ll cease to exist. And the people...people on Circadia have to be resilient and ready to fight. To me, that is beautiful. To earn your right to live is beautiful,” he said. “I’d be happy to stand with anyone who calls Circadia home. Do you wish to join us?”
“What do you mean, ‘join us?'” I asked.
“I mean, would you like to make the promise, like we did before? It’s okay if you don’t. You’re our leader, and I’ll follow you no matter what. But I figured if anyone deserved to bear the symbol, it would be you. I’ve been kind of rallying the troops. A few of the others have taken the oath and bear the symbol upon their arm as well. The tattoo, I mean.” Pulling his arms up into a shrug, he said, “I feel like it just makes us one. That’s all I want. For everyone to feel like they’re one. Like they belong.”
I thought for a moment, back on my life before Circadia, and how I never felt like I was home. I thought about how I had never once fit in anywhere in my entire life, and now that I was here, I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. I hadn’t thought of Circadia’s harsh realities as beautiful before, but they were. I knew that even though the grief from losing Garrett had made me sick, and the loss of Idris was shattering, there was still nowhere else in the universe I would rather be. I would rather be the last person left on Circadia than thriving back on Earth.
“Where do I sign up?” I asked, and grinned.
“It’s going to be painful,” he said. “Just like everything else on Circadia, it’s not going to be easy. I’ve carved a needle from a piece of pipe, and have created ink from Circadia’s own berries, simmered down. It will be a traditional tattoo.”
I nodded. It fit. I held out my arm and he went to work. The pain was there, but it felt good. Like it was drilling home the fact that we were going to win. This was our home, and we weren’t going down without a fight. We were one.
Chapter Eleven
Seven days passed, and I realized there wasn’t a single person left without the symbol on their arm. The days had welded us together, and we were ready to take on the challenge. Plans had been made, and everyone was heading out to their posts, ready for war. Traps had been set, waiting for the unsuspecting souls who wo
uld be led to them. The woods were riddled with them, and with people ready to take action when the traps didn’t quite do the job.
The woods were unusually quiet. The last couple of days, the trees had watched as Leslie’s crew had done inspections daily. Looking for any sign of where we might be hiding and returning back to camp no wiser than when they entered. We had watched them doing this for days, their lights shining into the empty darkness, but today there was no one wandering about the woods. It set an eerie tone to the day.
Each step I took echoed. I first put my heel down and slowly set down the rest of my foot, but the dry flower weed still crunched under my feet. My steps were quieter than the rest but still too loud. With no birds and very few bugs on Circadia, even the slightest noise stood out. We inched through the woods to our post as stealthily as possible, but I still had the feeling someone heard us. That they were watching us. I strained my eyes to see in the emptiness, looking for any kind of movement illuminated only by the faint light of the moon, but I still couldn’t see anything.
When we reached the trees marked with tiny carvings to indicate our places, we went up. Climbing into the branches was a tedious job. Making sure to not miss a step and fall was treacherous. One fall and it could alert the whole woods to our whereabouts. Every foot placement was precarious and dangerous. Each handhold was a life-or-death situation for the entire group.
I reached the branch that hid me the best and gave me ample space to move about, then situated myself for a long night. I thought once I was in position in the tree, I would be nervous, but nothing gave me greater pleasure. We had a plan, and were acting on it. The plan was to wait in the trees through the night until morning, making them think the woods were empty. When morning came, we would scope out the camp to see if the virus had taken effect. Whether or not it had, we would initiate the attacks. The attacks included the traps, luring, and full on hand-to-hand battle. I hoped that the virus had taken effect, it was our only true shot. Until morning though, we would wait.
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