"Are you eating breakfast?" My mother asks, a hint of annoyance in her voice. Probably because she fears she'll have to make another plate.
But with the mood I'm in, I ignore her tone and reply with a smile, “Yes, please. I’m starving to death." I don’t even remember the last time I had a full meal. Not yesterday, I was too sick to my stomach yesterday to even think about food, and not the day before either. I wince. I should probably work better on keeping fuel in the tank.
Cinda, pulling on my hand to get my attention, suddenly blurts out, “Nate, Leila is sick. You have to do something about it.” I feel my face drop.
I hold her gaze for about five seconds, just to be sure she’s not playing around, and then my eyes find their way to my mother. She looks tired and upset, her eyes lined with dark circles and her shoulders hunched back. Her faded coppery hair is pulled back loosely in a knot; stubborn stands hanging down round her face. She brushes one aside and tucks it behind her ear, swiping the back of her hand across her forehead where a bead of sweat was forming. She looks run down, used up. If you look closely, you can almost see the energy draining from her eyes. I have to look away.
She turns to Cinda, "I told you...she will be fine. She just needs peace and quiet, dear. No need to upset Nathan about it." She speaks so softly it’s almost a whisper.
I catch her glance over at me, holding my eyes with her own. Something in her expression tells me that Leila is worse than she’s letting on. My stare is locked on my mother now, reading into her gaze until she finely turns away. I cross the floor in only a few sweeps, starting for my parent’s bedroom where I'm sure Leila must be. My mother jumps up as well, standing right in front of the door, blocking my path.
"I need you to tell me what's wrong with her." I say to her.
"She's finally asleep. Please, don’t wake her." Her voice is shaking. "I don't know...I don't know what's wrong. But she has a fever. I'll tell you if anything changes.” Her tone is very soft. Probably the softest voice she's used with me in a long time. That doesn’t comfort me though, it makes the knot in my throat tighter. Suddenly, as if jerked from some forgotten memory, I remember the whole reason I left my side and went to the Tecks in the first place. How could I have forgotten? The medicine! What the heck happened to my bag? I then trace my steps back in my mind. I left it on the street when I ran into Willa.
"Look, if I know what's wrong with her...then maybe I can help." I assure her, trying not to give too much away.
"How? What can you possibly do to help her that I can't?" Her voice is stern now. And now I know there's something very wrong. But I know something that she doesn't. I have a secret weapon. I have Willa.
Chapter Twelve
Willamina
I walk through the city, all alone, back to my house. It’s unnerving, being in this giant city, all by myself. Every time I’ve ever seen this place, all the days of my life, it’s been bustling and busy, full of life, full of happiness. Now, I can see it for what it really is. Everything we have is at someone else’s expense. Thousands of people are breaking their backs every day so that we can live like this. Surely there’s another way. Suddenly, I’m disgusted with myself. I’ve been living like this my entire life, never noticing. How could I have not noticed? It’s so wrong! And it’s not like I didn’t know, because I did. Nobody ever cared, so I grew up thinking that that was right. I was taught from birth that not caring about other human beings is right! How can we be so evil? Surely, I’m missing something. I rack my brain over and over again for something that can make who we are right. There’s nothing, just our selfish, evil ways. Well, I refuse to be that person anymore. I find myself thinking about something that Nathan said to me: “Don’t go back to conformation, Willa. Don’t let them tell you who you should be.” I won’t. I feel like something needs to be done, but what? I could take a stand, but I would just be taken away and marked as insane. No one in this town will listen to me, because they already know, they just don’t care.
How did things get to this point? I think about the history of my people. Hundreds and hundreds of years ago, the second land wars broke out. This time, it wasn’t over territories, it was over resources. Countries were quickly running out of what they needed to survive and they were all running out at once. There was a giant rush of fighting as nations tried to take as many other nations over as they could. But not our country. We focused on defending ourselves and creating other ways to survive. We found lots of alternative fuels and power sources, but by that time, the rest of the world had been forced to resort back to tribal and primitive ways. The population of the world had greatly decreased and most of the old countries were gone. The most major “county” left was located in America. We came in and put them to work for us.
I guess, you could argue that we did them a favor, and that they’re benefiting from our superiority. But how much better off are they with us, really? We have kept them living in the same state that we found them in. Now they’re just working harder than anyone should have to work on top of it. So, maybe our county was smart and found a solution to our problems. That doesn’t make us better than them, we’re not gods. I wish there was a way to get this across to everyone, my family at least, but I know better. I‘ve lived up until this point in blindness; it’s going to take a lot more than me to change anybody’s mind.
I’ve reached my house –Ha! House… more like mansion– and I’m suddenly ashamed at this level of luxury. I feel the gripping need to go back to the Wall, climb over it and never come back. If they have to go through that on a day to day basis, shouldn’t I? I’m almost sure Nate wouldn’t send me away if I showed up, begging him to save me from this prison of paradise. But I see sense presently. If I run away, especially to Nate, they’ll come and find me and hurt him and his family. I can’t have that. I walk through the gate and around to the back door because the front makes too much noise, and walk inside. For a moment, I half expect my family to be standing there with their arms crossed and disapproving looks on their faces, but the room is empty. I walk silently up the stairs and to my room. If you were an outsider, coming into our house, you would never know that a monumental change had occurred inside this house. Everything looks the same, no calamities have befallen us. You would never know that the change is me, hidden deep in my heart. This girl is not the same person who lay in this bed last night, pondering what could be wrong with her world. At least I have the answer to that question now.
It kills me to remember that I have to change back into my nightgown so that when they find me tomorrow, they won’t know that anything life changing went on last night. I step out of the dress sluggishly; my limbs are starting to feel that run through the rain. I pull my hair out of my now sopping and tangled braid and fall into my ginormous canopy bed. I can feel every aspect of my body shutting down, but before my brain shuts off, I have just enough time to feel guilty for my comfort.
I’m abruptly woken up, though I’m not sure why. I look out my window and see that the sun isn’t up yet. I listen, maybe it was a noise. That’s when I hear another pod driving by our house. I bolt out of bed and rush to my window. No one drives anywhere at this time of night. I see the bright silver group pods that only belong to guards. I’ve always wondered why they need room for multiple people when every time I see them, they’re alone. One by one, guard pods race past our house. I decide that for the first act in my new life, I’m going to follow them. Even though they’re much faster than me, it won’t be hard to track them because they’re the only things making noise in a silent city. I’m out of the house before I can rethink this plan and I set out at a run after the noisy pods.
I grow tired quickly; without Nate here to keep me going, I’m reminded that I never do anything mildly strenuous. But still I run. I follow the sound all the way to the heart of the city, falling farther and farther behind. It continues. I follow it farther, and then it stops. I’m in the outskirts of the city now and the pods are still out of sight. I have a sudden
suspicion of where they are. I keep running and before long, the buildings and the town are gone. I’m getting close to it now. I’m starting to be impressed with myself; I’m taking a long time, but I’m still going. The grass on either side of the road starts to become brown and dry looking before it starts to disappear altogether. Soon, the road becomes cracked and broken. All at once, the road ends. I continue. Trees that don’t look healthy start to sprout up, but I’m grateful for them, they give me some cover. Then I see it, far away on the coming landscape; The Gate.
The Gate is much bigger and more impressive than The Wall. It has two enormous concrete doors that swing heavily open, shut, and latch from our side, obviously. I see the glinting silver of the pods up ahead so I approach with caution. I get close enough to see that the pods are empty. They must be inside. What on earth are they doing on the Worker’s side? That’s when I hear the muffled screams of women and children. I position myself behind a group of trees and try to block out the cries. It’s impossible, but they all seem relatively close by. Not long afterwards, The Gate grinds slowly open and ten guards walk through it, leading ten tired, young men. They all look like they’re dealing with defeat. One of them, a particularly scrawny one tries to fight the guard that’s leading him. He doesn’t do a very good job, not that I blame him; the guards are insanely strong. He looks like a rat that just found himself caught in a trap. I try to feel badly for him, but something in his sickly green eyes makes me want to slap him. The guards deposit the Workers roughly into the empty seats of their pods. I know what they’re for now.
One guard pulls another one that looks like the leader to the side and says, “Are you sure we want this one?” He nods over his shoulder at the rat boy. “He won’t do us much good, too small.”
“We’ve been given orders to take all the Workers on this list. Do you see that boy’s name on this list?” Something in their voices is chilling to me. There’s no emotion in them. They sound like robots.
The guard doesn’t even look at the list before he replies, “Michele Glass, yes, sir.”
“Then we take him. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.” He says again. Then they both get into their pods and drive away. I wait till they’re long out of sight before I follow them back at a run. I wonder if Nate’s name is on that list.
The run back is far more painful than the run here, I have no energy left. They are getting too far ahead of me and I think my lungs are going to burst into flames. Somehow, I manage to keep going. Suddenly, the noise from the pods ceases. I estimate that they’re near the center of town. When I finally arrive there myself, feeling like I’m about to die, there’s nothing. But I have a hunch that they’re in the underground part of the government building, the same place they dragged that girl wearing pants. I know it’s over now, there’s nothing left for me to do. I start to walk home at a much easier pace.
Why did they take them? What do they need them for? I’ve never heard of them taking Workers into town before. There’s no need for them here, not before they’re trained to serve and that happens somewhere else. Then it hits me. There is a job that no Teck would ever take, and yet they’re all over our town. The guards are Workers. They must be forced to come and work for us just like all the rest. How have I never noticed that before?
But now I’m home again. I sneak back in for the second time tonight and collapse into my bed, not even bothering to take off my boots. Before I can even think about what I’ve just witnessed, I’m deeply asleep.
When I wake up, I feel like I’ve been through death itself. I couldn’t move if I tried. But I’m not going to try, because at the moment, that would just be ridiculous. When Raya comes in, I tell her that I think I’m sick. She bustles out of the room to find a thermometer. When she’s taken my temperature, I learn that I do have a fever. Turns out, running through the rain all night isn’t good for your health. I’m allowed to stay in bed all day, which is lovely on my aching muscles. I feel bad that Nate can’t have the same luxury. Nate. My mind starts reeling with thoughts that are just out of grasp. What’s today? I look over at my wall calendar, Monday. There’s only two more days before I get to see him again. It’s nice to not have to go through this alone. And with that, I drift back into a pleasant sleep.
Chapter Thirteen
Nathan
I'm running as fast as I can down the dirt road with the discovery that Leila is sick stuck in my brain; I can't seem to slow down. Am I trying to run from it? I’m not sure, all I know is I left for one purpose and I failed. How could I have been so careless? I don't remember thinking about the medicine once after I ran into Willa. Now Leila needs it more than ever and I don't have it.
Lost in my anger and irritation with myself, I nearly run right past Mr. Thompson's. I'm nervous about showing up, knowing I've missed three days of work, but I'm too lost in my problems to fret about it too much. I almost don't even notice that he's not sitting on his front deck like he usually is. I think it’s the right thing to let him know I'm here, so I walk up onto the old deck. It's made of creaky –but at one point solid– wood. It has holes in a lot of places near the middle and it feels like it's gonna collapse as I step foot on it. I give his door a couple loud knocks before leaping back off the deck and awaiting his answer. I wait for some time but he never comes. I think about knocking again, and right as I'm about to walk up the steps, he appears. He looks terrible. His eyes are swollen and red around the edges, he smells horrendous and it looks like he hasn't changed clothes in days. He seems shocked to see me, but at the same time he seems disgusted that I'm here.
"Well...looks like you decided to come back after all." He grunts. His voice sounds scratched and faded, like he hasn't talked in hours. Or, maybe it’s the opposite. Maybe he’s been screaming for hours.
"Yes, sir," I start slowly, trying to think of a believable fib, "My mother needed some help around the house. We’ve been having some...roof problems." I gulp. Roof problems? Even I wouldn’t believe that. I feel the spark of confidence die out.
He tilts his head and blinks a few times. Then he looks away to pull up a chair behind him. Is he really buying that? I wonder.
"Very well. You can get to work where you left off." He says with a somewhat half smile.
"Thank you." I remark as I kneel down to retrieve my wire and stakes from underneath the deck.
I hear him chuckle as he starts to ramble, "For a while, I thought when they came the other night, they might’ve-" He stops and looks off into the distance as if he'd never said anything. But it was too late, he caught my attention.
Without thinking, I hear myself ask, "When who came?"
He looks at me with mild reluctance, and then turns away, back to his view of the town. I repeat myself, this time more demanding, "When who came?"
"Oh, good heavens, boy, you’re spoiling a perfectly good morning with your blabbering!" He hisses at me. He's starting to sound like his old self again, but I'm hooked on what he’s talking about. His ignoring me sends a bolt of lightning through my head, making me furious. Before I can control my actions, my anger takes over, once again. I stomp up the steps and look him in the eye.
"I'll start working when you tell me what you were saying!" I order, “When who came?” Right away I feel guilty and disrespectful. I slowly start to walk backwards down the steps, thinking there's no way I'll get him to confess, but to my surprise he speaks up.
"Alright, alright," he starts with a sour look but a softer voice, "I was going to say, I thought when they had come to take those young men away, they might’ve taken you too."
I know exactly who he’s talking about now but I put on an act, trying to sound clueless. "Who? Who came and took men?"
"The Tecks, of course. Don't you know anything, boy?"
"No, of course I know who the Tecks are!" Once said, I regret it. I’m terrified of saying the wrong thing now. I've never talked about the Tecks with anyone but Willa. If I give the two of us away…
"I know wh
o the Tecks are,” I recover, “I just didn't know they were coming already."
"Well, no use wasting our breath on them now. The boys they took are long gone. That's something we have to accept." His voice is regretful but also filled with sorrow, "Now, get to work. I don't have all day." He orders, trying to gain his attitude back.
Without saying a word, I walk down and start working on the fence. I have a lot to think about now. I need to get medicine for Leila, which I'm hoping… praying that Willa can help me with. I have to figure out what to do about the soldiers as well. If they come and take me, I need to know that my family will be taken care of. The trip to the other side didn't work out like I'd planned so I have to think of a new way. For reasons that I'm not sure of, Michele comes to mind. Thinking of his smug little rat face inflames me. That little back stabbing lair isn't what I want to focus on. I want to forget about him. He's not an issue, though I can’t help but wish I could show him that I'm not as gullible as he thinks. But I can't worry about him right now. I have more important people to think about. I just need to get to Willa for that medicine. Why can't Wednesday come faster?
Chapter Fourteen
Willamina
I drift back into wakefulness a few hours later. I know I’m not really sick, my body’s just protesting at having been made to do something extremely active for the first time in my life. I look around my elegant bedroom. The Victorian floral wallpaper, the soft curvy furniture, the artwork, everything looks out of place. I feel like I’m a thief, and all that I have, I’ve stolen. One painting hanging from the far wall captures my attention; it’s a painting of a forest. I’ve stared at it and gotten lost in it more times than I can count. The sunlight streaming through the canopy of trees is pure gold. The leaves are greener then any green I’ve ever seen in real life. There are no dead leaves on the ground, only rich soil. I’ve always believed that this is what a forest looks like, now I know better. My personal experience comes creeping back into my head; the trees that look alive and dangerous, the slimy leaves that cover the forest floor, the feeling of being trapped with no escape. I constantly feel like that now, like I’m trapped. The people in charge of the government keep everyone moving where they need them to go, doing what they need them to do, and living where they need them to live. There are no choices involved. When you think about it, everyone, on both sides of The Gate, are prisoners. Even the forest seems to be under their control.
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