by Charles Ray
“What do we do now, Hiroshi?” Clementine asked quietly. “There are monitors everywhere.”
He put his mouth close to her ear. “No; there aren’t many of them to the south of here,” he whispered. “We’ll make our way to the river and cross the fence there. Once we do, we’ll head west to the mountains.”
She had recovered from the shock of the incident on the roof. Hiroshi knew that she now realized that there was no turning back. But, if they died, they would die free; and together.
“When do we go?” she asked.
He looked down the hill. The monitors had moved north, and he could no longer hear them crashing through the brush.
“Now,” he said.
Crouching low, Hiroshi darted out of the trees with Clementine close on his heels. He ran down the hill until he was about twenty yards from the fence, and then turned south, keeping in the hip-high scrub as much as possible, and trying not to make too much noise.
It took thirty minutes for them to reach the river. Hiroshi knew they were near when the ground became wet and slippery and he could hear the roar of the rapids. The fence angled downward and disappeared into a stand of trees that lined the river. Hiroshi led Clementine into those trees. They stopped a few minutes to catch their breath. Looking back, Hiroshi saw no sign of the monitors. If they could make it to the river without being spotted, he felt there was a good chance they would make good their escape.
Clementine wiped at the wet leaves that clung to her clothing, and the droplets of water that coated her face and arms.
“Are we near the river?” she asked.
“Yes, very near,” Hiroshi said. “Once we catch our breath we’ll move on.
He flicked at a leaf that was stuck to her shoulder.
“I have to warn you; in order to get to the other side of the fence, we’ll have to go into the river.”
He felt her body stiffen and heard a sharp gasp.
“Into the r-river? That’s d-dangerous, isn’t it?”
He wished he could have told her that it wasn’t, but the truth was he didn’t know, meaning that it was in all likelihood extremely dangerous. But, whatever dangers the river offered, they were unknown. If they didn’t escape from New Liberty, he knew the danger they faced – instant execution by the first monitor they encountered. The monitors didn’t take reaction against their authority lightly. Even being slow to move aside when ordered to by a monitor could earn a prole a severe beating, regardless of age or infirmity. He shuddered at the thought of how they would treat Clementine or him after they’d killed two of the dreaded security officials.
“No,” he said. “It’ll be cold, and being wet won’t be too comfortable, but it’s not dangerous.” He crossed his fingers as he spoke and hoped that he wouldn’t have reason to regret his lie.
As they drew closer to the river, even Clementine became aware of its presence. The mist in the air thickened. It was like walking through a gauzy curtain. And, the noise of the rapids was a continuous roar. When they broke through the foliage and stood on the banks, both mouths opened and their eyes went wide with awe.
This far out from the factory, the sky was less overcast, and a full moon cast a yellow glow over the landscape. Before them, the river was over fifty yards wide, with large rocks protruding above the frothy white water that rushed over and around them. They made their way gingerly down the slippery mud to the water’s edge. It was slower at the sides, but only marginally. The fence was a few feet to their right, a black lattice work of wires on metal poles marching down the muddy bank and into the water, protruding six feet above the surface of the river until it rose up the far bank and disappeared into the trees.
Slipping and falling several times, they made their way to the fence. In the dim light of the moon, Hiroshi could see that Clementine’s face and clothing was spattered with the black mud. Her eyes were like two shiny marbles peeking from behind a mask of dark clay as she looked at him. He looked down at himself, and saw that he, too, was covered with the slimy muck.
Hiroshi knelt at the fence, inspecting it where it went into the water. He could see that the wires were darker and pitted near the water, and knew that to be rust, the result of long exposure to the moisture. He reached down and tentatively touched the wire, noticing sharp barbs every two feet. Anyone trying to climb the fence would be torn and bloody before reaching the top, and then ripped to pieces by the razor wire at the top, if not by the flechettes of the monitors. He twisted the strand. It bent up from the mud, and snapped from its connection with the pole. He repeated the process until he’d pulled aside enough of the wire to enable them to squeeze through. Once on the other side, he pulled the strands back and pressed them against the pole. It wouldn’t withstand close scrutiny, but might not be noticed by someone standing up on the bank.
He then took Clementine’s hand and started north, staying near the water’s edge. After nearly an hour of walking, they came to a place where the land rose sharply; a ledge that jutted out into the river; making it necessary for a choice between climbing up to the top of the ledge to pass, or going into the water. Hiroshi wasn’t sure they’d gone far enough to be past the limits of the external patrol, so he was reluctant to climb up. On the other hand, for all of his reading, and being able to remember almost everything he’d ever read, reading about swimming and actually knowing how to do it were two different things. The river was shallow, but the current was swift, and the rocks on the river bed slippery. It was a difficult choice, but in the end, he decided to take a chance in the water.
He placed Clementine between him and the river bank and waded out to go around the ledge. At that point, the water was almost to their hips and he could feel the force of the current against his body, as if it was trying to push him over.
They’d almost made it past the ledge when Clementine’s foot slipped on a rock and she fell backwards, her hand slipping from his. She shrieked and then was swallowed by the current.
Hiroshi had a moment of panic, and then he saw her head bob to the surface. She was being dragged out toward the center of the channel. He dove after her, sputtering as the water filled his mouth.
The combination of his flailing and the current carried him to her quickly. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to him, planting his feet in the silt, fighting against the current’s effort to push them both down river. She sputtered, spitting up the water she’d swallowed when she went under, and squirmed in his arms.
“Don’t worry, Clem, stay still,” he said. “I have you.”
He put his arm around her and, lowering his shoulder, fought the current to get them past the ledge. Once past the ledge, they climbed out of the water. They were both soaked through and shivering in the night air, which, despite the general rise in average temperature, felt chilly against their wet flesh.
Hiroshi remembered that a person whose body temperature got too low could suffer from hypothermia, and even die, even in the semi-tropical temperatures that prevailed. He had to get them somewhere that was dry and warm, or at least warm, or their journey would end with them dead on the muddy banks of the river.
Clementine’s teeth were chattering so that Hiroshi could hear them by the time they’d climbed to the top of the river bank and made it to drier earth. There was still moisture in the air, so he kept moving north away from the river until they were out of range of the mist.
They entered a forest of oak, maple, black gum and beech trees, with a few fir and pine trees interspersed among them. The forest floor was a soft carpet of evergreen foliage and dead leaves. Looking up through the openings in the leaves, Hiroshi saw something he’d only before seen in books; an inky black star sprinkled with millions of pinpricks of flickering lights. He was seeing stars for the first time in his life. He took deep breath, and noticed something else. The air didn’t contain the rank odor of burning methane or dried sweat. It was sweet with the scent of pine and honeysuckle, or at least these were the names he applied to the aromas assaulting his n
ose, based on the things he’d read. There was a soft sound, like gentle rain, as the breeze brushed the leaves and needles of the trees.
He pulled Clementine’s shivering body close. “You smell that?” he asked.
“Y-yes, it’s s-something s-sweet,” she said. “I’ve n-never s-smelled anything l-like it b-before.”
“Look up,” he said.
She did, and drew in a breath.
“Oh, Hiroshi, it’s b-beautiful. T-those are s-stars?”
“Yes, those are stars. Out here, you can see the sky, and you don’t have to smell that stinky odor of burning shit all the time.”
Of course, he thought, there’s always the problem of finding food. Water was available in the river, but they’d need food soon if they were to keep moving far enough to be sure the monitors of New Liberty couldn’t track them down. And, there was the issue of getting dry and warm. Clementine’s shivering body against his reminded him of their most pressing need.
“Let’s stop here,” he said. “I’ll make a shelter so we can get warm.”
He eased her down against the base of a tree trunk, leaving her huddled there while he hollowed out a space between two large oak trees. He constructed a lean-to with dried branches and covered it with leaves and pine boughs. He then covered the ground underneath with a thick layer of pine needles.
He helped Clementine crawl in and then crawled in beside her, burrowing into the pine needles and pulling a layer over them, and then held her close. His teeth chattered so hard he was afraid he’d break them, and his body seemed as if it would never stop shaking. But, the pine needles soaked some of the moisture from their clothing, and their combined body heat and the foliage protected them from the wind. After a while, he didn’t feel so cold, and the shaking eased. They clung desperately to each other. Hiroshi lay there, listening to Clementine’s breathing and the sound of night birds and insects around them. At some point, he drifted off to sleep.
“Tweet, tweet.” The sound yanked Hiroshi from a deep and dreamless sleep. The next thing he noticed was the warmth of Clementine, nestled in the crook of his arm, unaffected by the sound as she snored slightly. Then, he noticed the stiffness of his dried singlesuit, and the scratchiness as he stretched and slowly withdrew his arm from beneath her body. He could also feel the hardness of the flechette gun and clips that he’d put into his pockets.
He rolled slowly from beneath the makeshift shelter of twigs, branches and leaves, and rose achingly. As he took in deep breaths of the fresh, warm morning air, feeling it soothe his nostrils and throat, he became aware of the pressure on his bladder. He had to pee badly.
Looking down to make sure Clementine was still covered with pine straw and leaves, he then turned and walked into the brush downhill from where they’d slept. He undid the front of his singlesuit and relieved himself against a tree. With that pressure off, he began to notice the hollow feeling in his stomach. He was hungry, and he knew that Clementine would be famished when she awakened as well. He had to find food.
“Tweet, tweet.” The sound came again from somewhere off to his left. He moved as quietly as he could through the bushes until he came to another clearing. Across the clearing he saw a bright red bird sitting on a small bush, alternating between eating the purplish-green berries it bore and singing. “Must be calling its mate to inform him or her of the location of food,” he thought, and that thought was immediately followed by the realization that if the bird could eat the berries, they were probably safe for him and Clementine to eat.
He hated depriving the bird of its morning meal, but figured that it would be able to find a new source. He rushed forward, causing the creature to squawk loudly and take off in a flurry of wings. He pulled one of the berries from the bush. It was small, not much bigger than his eyeball, and smooth to the touch. Tentatively, he took a small bite from it. The tart sweetness filled his mouth. It was the best thing he’d ever tasted in his life. Quickly, he ate the rest of it and picked a handful, cramming into his mouth, chewing and swallowing until the hollow feeling in his stomach was gone. He then picked more, shoving them into his pockets, and leaving dark stains on his hands and clothing. When his pockets could hold no more, he retraced his steps to where Clementine awaited him.
She was just beginning to wake up when he knelt beside her, a handful of the berries held in front of her face.
Her eyes flickered open, unfocused at first, but when she was able to see clearly, she made a little eep sound and scurried away from him.
“That’s okay,” he said. “You don’t have anything to be frightened of.”
The sound of his voice seemed to comfort her. Her rapid breathing slowed.
“Whew! Sorry, but when I saw your face,” she said. “By the way, you do know the bottom half of your face is all purple, right?”
“Huh! Oh, that must be from these.” He held out the berries again. “You should try them, they’re good.”
She tentatively took one and put it in her mouth. After a few seconds, her eyes went all round and she smiled. “Hm, that tastes good,” she said. “What are these?”
“I’m not sure,” Hiroshi said. “I don’t remember reading anything about them. But, I saw a bird eating them and figured they were safe for us to eat. I ate a lot and haven’t felt bad at all.”
He offered her the rest, but she shook her head.
“I . . . first, I have to . . . you know.” She made head motions toward the bushes.
“Oh, sorry,” he said. “I had to go too.” He pointed. “There’s a clearing over there. While you’re gone, I’ll build a fire. I saw some chestnuts, and I do know they can be roasted.”
She nodded shyly and eased out of the shelter.
Hiroshi busied himself clearing an irregular circle on the ground and erecting a small pile of dried leaves and twigs. He searched around until he found several small rocks, looking for the gray stones that he remembered reading contained pyrite or iron. He took two promising looking ones, about the size of his hand and struck them together sharply. He was rewarded with a tiny shower of sparks.
He knelt over the pile of leaves and twigs and shredded a few leaves, and then began striking the stones together over them. His hands were beginning to get sore and his arms tired before he was rewarded with a slight glow from the pile of torn leaves and a tiny wisp of smoke. He leaned over and blew gently until the red glow began to spread, and then burst in to flame, spreading quickly to the other leaves.
When the fire was wells started, he put some larger pieces of wood on, waiting for them to ignite. The warmth from the small fire felt comforting in the slight chill of the morning air.
Satisfied that the fire was going well, he rose and walked north to a stand of oaks and chestnuts. He rooted around the base of the trees, filling his pockets with the nuts that had fallen, avoiding any that looked rotted or that had been picked at by birds or animals. Taking them back to the fire, he placed them in the edge of the flames. He found a green twig and used it to poke at the nuts, turning them so that all sides would get an equal amount of burning. He wasn’t sure how long he should let them cook. His recollection of ‘roasting chestnuts on an open fire,’ was of the words of a song he’d seen in a book about ancient holidays, which unfortunately hadn’t said how long the nuts were roasted, so he just let them stay in the fire until the outer husk started to burn, then, using the twig, raked them out.
By the time Clementine had finished her ‘business,’ Hiroshi had a small pile of the nuts on a large oak leaf, and the berries on another, placed on the ground near the fire.
“Wow, that smells good,” she said as she sat down next to him.
“Dig in,” he said. “While the nuts are still hot.”
They used their teeth to gnaw off the tough outer hulls of the nuts. The kernels had a strange, but nice taste. Clementine especially liked the berries, and by the time they’d finished eating, the bottom half of her face was as purple as Hiroshi’s. They then went to the river and drank until
Hiroshi felt his stomach would burst. They then washed the berry stains off their faces and hands, and returned to the shelter site.
Clementine’s eyes widened as she tasted the roasted nuts. “Thmph besding ever eid,” she said around a mouthful. Then, she swallowed. “That’s the best tasting thing I’ve ever eaten. Why don’t we have things like this in New Liberty?”
“I don’t know. They’re called chestnuts, and they grow wild out here.”
“Those . . . what did you call them . . . berries? They were so-o-o good. I could eat them for every meal.”
“We can,” Hiroshi said. “And, lots of other things, too. You see, it’s not so bad here as you thought.”
“You’re right, but what do we do now?” Clementine asked.
“Well, according to the maps I saw when I was small, the river goes north mostly, and then cuts west. We need to follow along it until we find a place where it’s narrow and shallow enough to cross, or, if we’re lucky, find one of the old bridges. Then we head south and up into the mountains.”
Clementine’s face was creased with worry as she looked into Hiroshi’s eyes.
“But, Hiroshi, how will we live? You can find food, but where will we find shelter?”
“I built a shelter last night, didn’t I? I found food this morning,” he said. “When we’re far enough away that we don’t have to worry about the monitors, I’ll build us a more permanent shelter. We have the monitors’ weapons, so I can hunt. I remember books about hunting and growing food.”
“So, the books are real? I heard people talking sometimes about them, but I always thought it was just stories. You’ve actually seen them?”
“Yes. My father used them to teach me to read. They’re in a secret place that only he and I know . . . knew. I still remember everything I read in the books, and I know that what they’ve been telling us all this time is nothing but lies. Look around you, Clementine. The air is clean. You can see the stars at night. This is the way life was in the time before, not the way we lived in New Liberty.”
