Escape from Harrizel
Page 5
“I don’t believe it beneficial to speak of such matters. My advice to you,” he turns, offering a short nod, “is to steer clear. Surround yourself with friends out here,” he gestures to the stark emptiness surrounding us, “and you’ll do just fine.”
Although I don’t plan on staying here much longer, there are still so many things I want to know, so many questions I need to have answered. But they won’t matter as soon as he gets me outside. Just get me out there and I’ll take care of the rest.
“Come along,” he heads back to where we entered, “more to see.”
Reluctantly, I follow, grabbing one last view of the darkened scene before keeping to Jeb’s heels as we enter the same evibola. In three seconds we emerge, still several floors up. We’re in an open, inside tower of the Auditorium, Gizella trees and babeebs lighting the Castle’s interior with a low, golden glow. Crimson archways line every floor of the plum-black walls and a hip level barricade with long black rods runs like a fence along the inside perimeter.
Resting my hand on the rail, I gaze over.
Below lies is a giant plum and grey chessboard, broken by black, emaciated trees that reach up with bony, finger-like branches. Their charred tips extend just beneath our floor, curled at the top in a looped, twisting shape.
“These are the human’s quarters,” Jeb walks along, his hands tucked behind his back.
“All of this?”
“All of it,” he confirms, stopping quickly and glancing over his shoulder so I understand, “except of course, the top few floors. They belong to us.”
“So wait…” I pause along with him, “where’s the Auditorium?”
“Just below the Courtyard,” he indicates over the railing. “We’re fifteen floors up so don’t forget to account for the exertion when you decide how to spend your Leisurely activities.”
I was already on the ground!
I want to kick myself but really, how would I have known? It was windowless and dark—we could’ve been anywhere. And so far, Jeb has been true to wanting to ‘show me around.’ If this manual labor Rebuilding nonsense is for real, he’ll have to take me outside at some point. And then I’ll be free from all this—free to make my way back through the jungle and to those ruins that felt familiar. I have to know why and I won’t be able to do that from in here. I just have to hold out until Jeb takes me outside.
“Let’s look at your bathing facilities,” he heads for the closest stairwell.
Hiding just behind it is a wide, bulbous breadth of wall with two arched entries on either side. Both tall and narrow like the Maze’s gaps downstairs, Jeb leads us through the closest one, and into near darkness.
“These are the Bathing Bubbles, where you’ll come to clean yourself.”
While the entrance was deceivingly narrow, the room beyond is not. Decked out in the same plum-black stone, it sleeps in shadows, few babeebs hanging to the even fewer Gizella trees. The space itself is a giant bulb, filled with rows and rows of similarly-shaped objects. They’re glass balls, sitting like giant ornaments that could fit three or four people.
Jeb leads us down the outside wall and between a row of the huge glass spheres on our left and a row of smaller, more intimate ones on our right. These smaller glass balls run along the entire outside wall.
“In order to accommodate the growing population, please limit your cleaning sessions between five and ten minutes.”
“And when we…”
“Same with depleting your bowels and such,” he indicates to the set of smaller spheres on our right.
“And our clothes?” I ask, tugging on my sleeve.
“Yes. The Bathing Bubble will take care of that too. You simply place your items here,” he indicates inside the bubble, to a tray hanging from the glass wall. “It will repair and clean as you do. Now,” and he faces me again, “you may use the Bubbles in the morning before Rebuilding, during your common hours and at Leisure Time,” he strengthens his tone, “though we highly suggest this time be spent with your own kind. It’s imperative for you to rebuild your civilization. There is only so much we can do.”
Just get me to the ground.
“This way, more to show you,” Jeb leads us back outside and down the corridor. “Food will be dispensed three times daily in your room—before Rebuilding and during both common hours before Leisure Time. You are to leave Rebuilding at the dismissal when you hear it, eat in your room and report back at the second dismissal.”
“Can we socialize then?”
Jeb hesitates briefly, sensing my annoyance, but continues. “Each human is assigned their own space for sleep and privacy,” he slows, approaching a crimson door on the left. “Yours is here.”
The entire arch is broken into tiny blocks of symbols, all unique to each other.
“Each door is opened by a different combination. Yours are here, here, here, here, here and here,” he selects six different symbols, pushing the cubes back until they lock into place. When they do, he nudges the arch open and we enter a tiny burrow of solid black stone.
I gulp.
It’s compact—the size of a large closet with a worn twin bed in the back right hand corner, covered in layers of thin, navy rags. An empty chair sits under a small window that hangs on the wall across from us, and a tiny square mirror sits just below it. A few babeebs hover beneath the Gizella roots which creep across the black ceiling like sadistic metal fingers.
“If you forget the combination, the symbols are right here,” he indicates to the back of the door where only the same blocks are illustrated in their corresponding place. Jeb steps to the other side of the area, where a white box outline sits in the wall. “Your food will be deposited here.”
“How will I know when the common hours are?”
“We will notify you. You’ll also be able to navigate your way along with the others.”
He steps to the side, allowing me to view the food dispenser outline for myself. I nod, scanning it before backing away and surveying the room again.
“Leisure Time is tonight, so until then, we’ll get you started working,” he heads for the door.
“And it’s mandatory?” I eagerly follow, “Leisure Time?”
“Oh yes!” he spins, flabbergasted I’d even ask. “Everything is mandatory but especially that. How do you expect your race to thrive if you don’t give it a chance?” he leans in as if offering a vital piece of information. “And there are ways of tracking when you do and do not attend.”
He’s looking for some kind of response and I have just the one. Unfortunately, a swift punch to the face isn’t going to get me on the ground any quicker. “You were going to get me started on work?”
“Yes—there’s no point wasting any more time up here when you’re not contributing one way or another. Let’s head down to your work stations.”
Finally. Just a little longer and I’m out of here.
He leads us out of my bunker and back to the evibola. We’re on the ground in seconds, his arms opened to the checkerboard base of the Castle.
“This is the Courtyard. You are also free to use this area for your other socializing—for Leisure Time only, of course.”
Up close, the trees are much larger and coated with tiny black hairs that cover them like fur. Their skinny arm-like branches shoot up all around us but never touch one another, or the other trees which lay sprawled out across the Courtyard.
“Now for your work,” he leads me to the only entrance in the entire Courtyard—an archway on the north wall where a main portcullis opens to the outside.
Finally!
When we emerge, the sun has disappeared and the scent of rain immediately hits me, the grey-white sky sitting heavily like it did before, threatening an eternal monsoon but still, somehow, not a drop falls. The air is soaked with moisture but the ground remains cracked dry. Dead.
I eye the iron-gate across, searching for an opening. There’s got to be a way past it. A way through it. Doing an intense study of its structu
re and matching the space with my own lean frame, I contemplate squeezing between the rods. I could fit. I might have to suck in a little but it’s doable. I’m so lost in this idea that I barely notice the cavernous trench stretching in a semi circle in front of it.
The trough wraps around the Castle with both ends disappearing on either side as people climb in and out with buckets. They empty some blue material into various piles while others handle silvery domed objects that pour steam over the mounds.
Jeb gestures to the trench.
“Gibb grows naturally under the soil. We cultivate it each day to continue development of the upper floors. You’re an Arrival so you’ll be on digging duty at first. The longer you’re here, though, you’ll be able to choose your task. You can dig or iron,” he gestures toward the small cluster of people holding the silvery domed objects, and then to other groups carrying long rectangular sheets to the far right side of the Castle, “or you can transport. But at first, we’ll keep you on digging seeing as it takes time to master the Gollop,” he indicates again with a point to the round, ‘ironing’ devices.
I squint, trying to get a better view of those rods. They look like iron. Strong, durable iron that could hold me like a fly in a spider’s web if I can’t quite fit. I’m not terribly large-chested, but they’ll definitely cause an issue, especially if I need to do this quick. And with everyone out here, it’ll be difficult. But at least I’m out here. If anything, I’ll wait for their dismissal and do it then.
They’ll go back inside and I’ll flee.
Suddenly, a loud commotion stirs on the left bank of the trench, stealing Jeb’s attention. Someone screams and all movement stops. Freezes. And then starts up again with two boys going at it, throwing furious punches between the trough’s edge and the silver domed objects. People burst forth from everywhere, spilling out of the trenches and racing from the far side of the castle to see the showdown.
This is my chance, especially since Jeb charges the fight in a dead run, abandoning me completely. He doesn’t stop in his pursuit—curious to see if I’ve tagged along—but jets away, his yellow coat flapping behind him.
I eye the gate.
No one sees it. No one sees me. They’re all focused on the bloody riot just up to the left bank where a sudden mob of bodies has grown. This is my chance. Everyone is distracted. I’m still a ways away but I can make it if I run. With my heart thundering in my chest and my blood racing in my veins, I ready myself.
And I take off.
Chapter Four: Allies
I don’t get far.
I’m stopped immediately by a boy with a perplexed frown, like he’s trying to decide if I’m really doing what he thinks. He steps out in front of me, his tall, stocky build blocking my way, especially as he hooks his hands to his hips.
“Don’t even think about it,” he shakes his head, his tousled red mane shaking.
“What?” I glance to the left to find Jeb reach the fight. I’m losing time. Whatever this guy’s deal is, he’s ruining my chance and it might be the only one I get. It’s now or never and I can’t do the latter. I have to keep going. I side step but he’s right in front of me, shaking his head again.
“Whatever crazy-ass idea’s running through your head,” he crosses his arms over his broad chest, “don’t. You’ll be dead before you even try.”
Looking back to the fight, Jeb is pointing back to the Castle, his yelling carrying on the wind toward us. But I’m on the ground. I’ve made it this far. I can’t give up now. I have to at least try.
“I’m serious,” his golden eyes narrow, “there’s no point. You can’t.”
“Why not?”
“You just got here. It’s too soon to die.”
I’m frozen, caught off by his ability to speak so nonchalantly about my death. I want to ask him what he means but a thousand thoughts are racing through my head. And I’m still not ready to abort the fleeing plan. It’s all I’ve got. I can’t acclimate to this world. I won’t. All I know, all that’s familiar is out there, in the ruins. I need to get to them but my legs move won’t move. They’re useless blocks beneath me, pinning me to the ground.
“Fallon…” Jeb approaches with a curious frown, “how’d you make it all the way over here?”
“I was telling her about the digging,” the boy motions to the trench, “we’re just about to get some Senz so she can start.”
Jeb’s eyes flicker between us. Slowly, his head rolls into a nod of approval. “Very good. Sorry about the interlude. It’s just the barbaric nature of your kind. Some aggression still lingers. We try to curb it, but, as you see,” he indicates to the dispersing crowd, “it can resurface. Walker, is it?” he turns to the boy. “Explain the process and the Water Pole. And whatever else she needs to know.”
Jeb glances between the two of us, offering up a plastic smile and then, cupping his hands behind his back, retreats for the portcullis. When he disappears behind it, Walker pulls something black hanging from his hip.
“I’m steaming today so you can use my Senz,” he offers me what appears to be a set of black clams. “They’re your hand shovels for digging. Come on,” he shakes them, “we need to make this fast.”
With a deep exhale, I slip them on and follow as he leads us toward the right bank of the trench.
“Each morning you’ll grab a pair and—”
“Save it. I don’t plan on being here long.”
“Yeah, you and me both, sweetheart.”
“I’m serious.”
“Look,” he spins, “it’s either here or dead. Out there,” he barely motions past the gate, “is not an option.”
“For you.”
The first real smile sweeps his lips as his face lights up with dimples I’m sure gets him anything he wants. He gestures to a giant metal pole in the center of the area that towers close to the same height as the Castle. “That’s the Water Pole. You need a drink during the day… hell, just a break,” he shrugs, “you got yourself a five, ten minute escape.”
The plan was to get on the ground. And I’ve made it. Now all I have to do is let this guy go on and have him believe I’m listening. But once he leaves, I’m reverting to the original plan—fleeing at dismissal.
“Over here,” Walker heads for the trenches, “you’ve got your digging. You’re an Arrival so you’ll be using your Senz,” he indicates to the black hand-tools, “to dig out the gibb. Get’s extremely monotonous, so heads up. Hey—you listening?”
“Yeah.”
He raises a brow but continues walking, “when the gibb is dried, it’s used to make walls. And that’s what those,” he indicates the silvery giant domes, “are for.”
We stop in front of them—devices that look like hundred year old tortoise shells with all legs still attached. Four boys hold a handle as the dome hovers above the ground, steam escaping and pouring down on the light blue gibb below. The gibb slowly erodes back on itself, ultimately flattening into the large sheets of plum-black marble being carried around me.
“What are they?”
“They’re Gollops,” he hooks his hands on his hips. “Cooks the gibb into hard, flat sheets. Once they’re ready, we have them transported upstairs. Now,” he turns to me, “there are three basic jobs. Digging, using the Gollop—we call them Steamers—and Transporting. Most Arrivals stick to Digging but if it gets boring—and it will—you can always try your hand as a Steamer or in Transporting.”
I nod.
“You’ll be over here,” he leads us back to the right curve of the trench lip. As we peer over, it’s deeper than I realized. People are fully inside it, the small black clamps cusped in each hand as they claw into the light blue walls. Giant buckets sit between each person, a dispenser for all the gibb collected. “Just find whatever bucket’s available, fill it and bring it to the Steamers. Keep going until dismissal.”
Just leave so I can make another run for it.
“We good?”
I nod again, avoiding his eye.
I can still do it. At the end of this, when everyone’s heading back inside, I can flee. It won’t be as great a distraction as the fight was, but it’s something. I climb down an unsteady ladder propped against the trench wall. Once I’m in, and the blue reaches above my head by a few feet, I look around.
I’m surrounded by two endless rows of people clawing at the powder blue substance on either side of the trough. A narrow space separates the lines but large metal buckets sit between each person, filled with the collected gibb. Everyone’s shoulder to shoulder so I walk for a minute, finally spotting a few empty buckets up on the right.
Just a little while longer and you’ll be out of here.
With another deep inhale I start clawing into the blue wall just like everyone else. I’m not really working—just biding my time. Waiting it out. Trying to decide the best course of action when the next opportunity arrives. I’ll have to move further down the trench, getting myself as close to the gate as possible. I’ll pretend to leave with everyone else, and then stay in here until they’ve all gone inside. I peek up, finding the point in the curving trough that’s the shortest distance from the gate.
“Keep your head down.”
It’s a whisper from my left. I didn’t even notice someone start working next to me but she’s here—a beautiful Indian girl with luscious dark features. She’s focused on digging and for a second, I wonder if I imagined it.
“Why?” I ask.
“Sshh… quiet.”
“You’re serious about that no socializing thing?”
“Not us,” she flashes me a look, “them. They don’t want us talking.”
“Why?” I glance back toward the Castle, searching for Jeb but he’s not there. I look back to the gate, searching for the guards—Yerza and Norpe—but find it abandoned like earlier. It’s like we’re out here alone.