Escape from Harrizel

by C. G. Coppola

  Keep focus.

  The thick white mist doesn’t help but after a minute, I get my footing back on track, finding a good rhythm of leaping over the roots. I dropped my Callix at some point so I’m in darkness—complete and utter darkness. And alone. So very alone.

  I’m racing through the trees but at a pace slow enough to detect the varying shades of black. The calls still whimper, slicing through the night behind me but they lower with each passing minute. They grow from one undetectable murmur to a soft, faint whisper just as I reach the edge of the jungle again. Flying through, I desperately wish I had my Callix. There are more than just trees here but all sorts of fauna and odd shaped shrubbery. With so many different silhouettes, I can’t tell what’s what. Leaves, ivy, deadly plants…

  Slow. Just go slow.

  With my hands outstretched, I push through lush foliage, leaves slapping me when I release them too quickly. My feet are dying to take off but I force myself to keep steady. No matter how much I feel like running all the way back, I have to be smart about this. I have to be cautious. Eventually, I make it to Ellae, my eyes fully adjusting to the darkness. Everything is a different shade of black. They all have their own hue, unique to their pigment-like colors and I see it better.

  With my heart pounding, I dive through the ruins, swatting past the black and gray ivy, forcing my wobbling legs to keep going. They have nothing left, only the fear racing up my back and pushing me forward like an animal desperate to survive.

  Keep going, just keep going.

  Beads of sweat trickle past my ears and down my neck. I wipe them clean with the back of my hand, nearing the front of the ruins again. Tripping on a hidden root, I fly forward on the ground, my hands doing their best to reach out and protect me but it doesn’t stop the exposed stone from cutting the top of my cheek. A small wound drips a few red beads but I wipe them clean too, pick myself up and keep going.

  But which way?

  How to get back?

  Panic sets in. Everything looks the same. Everything is indistinguishable. How did I expect to find my way back? Gulping, I come to a halt, surveying. Is there any way to tell? Any way at all?

  Just as I consider the possibility of being lost out here forever, a flicker of faint light sparks hope. Two pairs of wings circle one another and I race toward them, my hands out to block the path. The wings continue to circle each other, suddenly joined by the third pair, the three sailing through the night at a speed just slow enough for me to follow. They lead me through Ellae until fluttering away, disappearing into the shadows.

  What now?

  Up ahead, two fat bushes sit, cousins to a grouping of thin trees—three trees. Relief blooms in my stomach as the ivy-coated wall comes into view and I know I’m here.

  Two bushes, three trees, one wall.

  And sitting amongst a grouping of others, another tree boasts a slanted carving mid-trunk and a coupling of knots under a lower branch. I jet forward and pull back the door, flying into the overwhelming darkness of the tunnel inside.

  Blackness.

  One step at a time. Follow the roots.

  With my hands out, clutching the wooden burrow, I force myself not to panic. Don’t panic. But I can’t help it. My mind races with the thought of being alone here—an immense labyrinth—in total darkness, no one knowing. My heart pounds relentlessly, a bomb about to detonate any second.

  Relax.

  Focus.

  Follow.

  Just follow the grainy walls. I close my eyes and move forward, led by the texture beneath my fingertips, trusting their navigation. I travel quickly, but not fast, a few times the texture suddenly changing. At this I halt. I back up until feeling the correct material again and keep going in that direction.

  When I’ve got a good rhythm down, images flood back. The hanging lips, the eyes staring blankly and jutting spasms from elbows and fingers. Don’t think of that. Think of getting back. Think of telling the others what you’ve found. They need to know. This is key. If anything, make it back to tell them. To give the others a chance.

  I’m not sure how long I’m here, blindly feeling my way through the blackness until my fingers graze over the cool metal ladder. I pause instantly, my eyes jetting open. I can’t see anything. But I wrap my fingers around the metal and it comes vaguely into view after a minute. The Water Pole.

  I’m inside the gate.

  I keep going until coming to a dead-end. Hard. Compact. Marble. I’ve reached the Castle. With the wall ahead, the only option is left or right. I take the left on a whim, jetting down the passage until meeting the grayed silhouette of a stairwell. I fly up the steps and lean on the first silhouetted door in the wall.

  I’m on the second floor of the North East corner. The tower is more or less empty with only a few moving bodies dotting the corridors. Everyone’s most likely down at Leisure Time or back in their rooms already, depending on the time.

  I arch my neck.

  I have to get to the twelfth floor. Sucking in a deep breath, I take off up the stairwell. At the sixth floor, I pause, gasping for breath, holding myself to the railing. Six more floors. And my legs are ready to quit now. Right now. And he might not even be there.

  Just a little farther.

  Pushing on, I pull myself up, counting the floors as I pass them.

  Seventh…

  Eighth…

  Ninth…

  Tenth…

  Only two more. My legs can’t take it—they’re breaking. But they’re still working. I’ll push them until they won’t go. Until they’re useless limbs of jelly. And then, I’ll drag myself.

  Eleventh…

  Twelfth…

  Panting, I peer down the empty corridor, counting for Reid’s door. My legs wobble beneath me as I come up to it, pounding on the crimson arch. It opens immediately, Jace and Tucker already guarding, ready to pounce. When they see me, they stop, shocked. Reid is behind them, his eyes large as discs.

  “Fallon?” he races toward me.

  I rush into his arms and fall apart. My face sinks into the safety of his shoulder as he lifts me, clasping me to him. After a second he puts me down on the floor in front of him, his eyes shifting between mine. When he speaks, his words are both sharp and tender, worried and relived. “Are you okay? Where were you?”

  “They’re out there…”

  “Fallon,” he holds my face in his hands. His eyes narrow at the cut on my cheek, on the mixture of dirt and sweat plastered to my forehead and lips. “Are you okay?”

  “I… I…”

  “Are you okay?” he repeats his words slowly, his dark eyes shifting between mine. His grip on my face is secure—he’s not letting me go until he gets the answer he wants.

  I nod, tears swelling in my eyes. He needs to know. Now. A few drops escape, soaring down my cheeks. “I’m fine. I’m fine,” I think of the disfigured trees, of Hinson I left behind. “But they’re out there…”

  “Who?”

  “Everyone.”

  “Come here,” he pulls me to his bed and sits me down. He’s next to me instantly, scanning, trying to read me for injuries, for clues to what might have happened. His face grows hard at my condition but he keeps himself receptive, his eyes shifting between mine.

  Able, Tucker and Jace crouch at my feet and suddenly I remember I’m not alone with Reid. Clark is also here, his back to the wall and his arms crossed over his chest. He’s wearing a badge of confusion and surprised concern.

  Reid takes my hand. “What happened?”

  “I found them. I found everyone...”

  “Who’s everyone?” his eyes narrow further, still searching me for injuries. “Are you talking about the Kings? Did they take you?”

  I shake my head. “I left. Past Ellae… there’s this place and,” I gulp, “I found them—everyone who was taken.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They’re all out there,” my voice shakes. I wish he could see what I saw, wish I could transfer the image. �
�Hinson,” I gulp again. “Hinson’s out there.”

  “You found her body?” he tries.

  “I found her. She’s sort of… alive.”

  Reid shakes his head. “Fallon… Hinson is dead.”

  “But she was talking to Griffin at first...”

  “But how could…”

  “I don’t know, I don’t know!” I snap, angry he’s forcing me to bring him into the nightmare. “I don’t know how it’s possible but it is,” my blood heats under the reality. It’s worse than I imagined. Worse than all of us could have imagined. But they need to know. They need to. “The missing people aren’t dead. Something happened to them. They’re… deformed,” my voice trembles with the word. “Out in the woods beyond Ellae.”

  The boys lock eyes with one another—even Clark.

  Is she crazy? Do we believe her?

  The questions are being tossed around in long glances, no one ready—or willing—to counter. Could it all be in my head? Could I have been hit so hard that I passed out, imagined the whole thing and then woke up and escaped?

  “Suit yourselves,” I jump from the bed, suddenly aware of how weak I am. “I’m telling Sampson.” My legs nearly give out but Able grabs a hold of my waist as I nearly plummet to the floor. Reid is on my right side, wrapping his arm around me, steadying me.

  “We’ll tell Sampson together,” he wipes my brow with his thumb. He surveys my face, his eyes lingering on the cut on my cheek. He winces, “Did you really go out past Ellae?”

  I nod.

  “God, Fallon,” he shakes his head, squeezing me to him. He doesn’t say any more but after a second turns to Tucker. “Sampson at Leisure or in his room?”

  “Last I heard Leisure,” Able shrugs, “but he never stays that long. My bet’s his room.”

  Reid turns to me, sliding his hand in mine, “Let’s go.”

  Clark exits first, followed by Able, then Reid and me, Tucker and Jace. We all fly through the corridor, taking the North East stairwell down to the fifth floor. My legs are so unstable from all the climbing before, I have to stop multiple times to wait for my muscles to ease up. At one point, Able mumbles toward Reid, “I can carry her if you want.”

  “If anyone carries her, I’ll carry her,” Reid moves for me.

  “No one’s carrying me,” I withdraw. “I’m fine. Just exhausted. What floor is this?”

  “Seventh,” Jace answers.

  “Two more. Think you can make it?” Reid asks with sincerity in his voice. If I say no, he’s ready to pull me into his arms but I can do it. I nod, focusing on reaching Sampson. We reach his floor and move down to his door. Reid knocks twice. “Reid.”

  He retrieves his sirolla and without waiting for a response, opens Sampson’s door, our entire group piling in without an invitation. Tucker pulls the door shut just as Sampson turns from gazing out the window.

  “Gentlemen,” his word is sad as though prepared to address a mourning. But then he sees me, pleasantly startled, relieved. “Fallon? I thought…” and he looks to Reid.

  “Wasn’t the Kings.”

  “What happened?” his eyes scan mine intensely. “Are you alright?”

  Tucker, Able and Jace retreat for the wall and bed on the right side of the bunker while Clark sticks to the left. Reid remains a step behind me, always in reach. Taking a heavy breath, I chisel it down to the roots. “I found the missing people. They’re out in the woods, past Ellae,” I steady my voice, “They’re not dead.”

  Sampson’s brows pinch at the crescent of his nose, his eyes in narrow slits, unconvinced.

  “I don’t know how it’s possible, but it is,” I’m anxious to defend myself. “They’re growing on the trees… or into the trees or something. I…”

  “Where?”

  Does this mean he believes me? “Past Ellae. In the center of a thicket of trees.”

  “Could you find your way back?”

  “Of course.”

  “And how did you find it?” his blue eyes narrow further. “How’d you know where to go?”

  “There were these bug-creatures…” I remember them suddenly, “…black… but their wings turned white at night. They led me.”

  “They’ve come to you?” Sampson’s interest peaks at this piece of news. The room stills with the one question on everyone’s mind.

  “Who?”

  But suddenly, Sampson remembers his company and quickly shifts focus, “They led you, and then what happened?”

  “I heard something. A voice,” I gulp, “it was Hinson. She was saying she wouldn’t forget the Marows…”

  “What else?” Reid probes.

  “Just that she wouldn’t forget them. Then…”

  “Then what?”

  Another gulp. “Then she started trying to bite at me. Like she was hungry.”

  “How many?” Sampson asks. “How many people did you see?”

  “I don’t know,” I shake my head, suddenly ashamed for being such a coward. “There were too many. Fields. And they’re alive, all of them.”

  “I know death when I see it, Fallon. Hinson was dead. Is dead. We don’t know how she died but we know something was done to her beforehand. Why else would this happen to her corpse?”

  “No. They were alive. I heard her.”

  “Lingering voice cells… let me guess, involuntary blinking?”

  “But she called out for Griffin. She knew who Griffin was.”

  “I can’t explain it, Fallon, I’m sorry. Perhaps it’s some sort of unsuccessful reanimation…” and at this, Sampson stops, stunning himself into a trance. As far as he’s concerned, the rest of us have vanished as a curious, unsettling look exudes from his vacant eyes. Something’s just snapped. Or gone off. Or awoken in that mind of his that demands immediate attention. What could he have stumbled upon?

  “Oh dear,” the color returns to his cheeks as he breaks the silence with quick, discomforting words. “I do beg your pardon but I must leave immediately.” And with that, Sampson flies to the door without a look at us.

  Reid is at his heel. “What’s wrong? Can we help?”

  Turning, Sampson shakes his head apologetically. “Something’s just come up. Something I need to go over, in privacy. Quietly inform the others of what you know and we’ll reconvene tomorrow at Camp,” he turns to me. “Fallon will lead us back.”

  When Sampson leaves, I spin to Reid. “You’re going to tell the Rogues?”

  “They need to know,” he turns to Tucker. “Have the word put out for tomorrow at Camp, same as before. Griffin too,” he places a hand on Jace’s shoulder. “Let them know Fallon’s been found and to strike all former orders other than normal assignments. Fallon,” and now Reid extends his hand to me, “we need to do a walk-through. Let the others know you’re here. Put to rest any rumors that the Kings are gaining ground.”

  “Has it spread that fast?”

  “Some Clients’ sole duties are to report your whereabouts to the Kings. The second you disappeared, people started speculating.”

  “Kings took it as their opportunity,” Able sighs, “and let the rumors fly.”

  “Okay,” I look to Reid. “One walk-through and then rest. For me at least.”

  “Of course. Just one walk-through and we’ll leave. Promise.” He squeezes my hand, nodding to Tucker and Able as we emerge again, heading downstairs into the Auditorium.

  It’s more packed than usual. With all the new Arrivals and not many lists called of late, the Castle is at full capacity. It’s difficult to navigate the sea of bodies but Reid and I make it down the stairwell and to the West Wall. As I’m about to walk out, he pulls me back.

  “Okay listen,” he turns, leaning in, “we can’t be obvious like we’re flaunting you. It has to be like you never left. You have to seamlessly move through, like you normally would. Like you were just sick up in your room all day,” he focuses harder, making sure I understand him, “because that’s what’s going out about you. You have whatever they’re putting on us�
��berry juice poison. But you feel fine now so you’re back to business,” his eyes narrow, shifting between mine. “Think you can handle that?”

  “Why not?” I shrug, “I’ve got the exhaustion to prove it.”

  “Good girl.”

  “One lap.

  “And then head straight up to your room. I’ll be right behind you.”

  I inhale deeply, ready for the final voyage. Forcing myself forward, I keep to the perimeter of the outer Maze, weaving in and out of bodies. Many faces are new, confused… cautious. Still unsure of what to make of all this, of what they’ve been told. Like I was, back when I was still an Arrival. Moving through them, I round the South Wall, scanning each face.

  Starting to head for the East Wall, someone grasps my wrist and tugs me into the thriving pit of dancing bodies. He pulls me close to him, his golden eyes flickering between mine, worried.

  “You all right, Fallon?”

  “I’m fine,” I exhale, relieved to see Walker.

  His sights settle on the cut before taking in the dirt on my forehead, chin and nose. His anxious countenance turns rigid.

  “What happened to your face?” he brushes his thumb over my cheek, his eyes narrowing in anger. “Did someone do this to you?”

  “No one,” I shake my head, knocking his hand to the side. “I’m fine, really.”

  “How’d you cut your cheek here?”

  “I fell,” I admit, knowing how much that sounds like a lie. “I just fell. But I’m fine…” I try pushing past. But he’s solid, like a wall, holding his ground and jumping to block me as I try to dodge.

  “I’m not letting go,” he leans in, lowering his voice, “until you tell me the truth.”

  Suddenly, Walker’s focus shifts to something behind me. He’s already retreating when I’m yanked back by my elbow and out of the line of fire, just in time for Chief and Jace to put their bodies between Walker and Reid, who storms forward, a bull to the red flag. The two Clansmen throw both hands on their leader but Reid doesn’t stop advancing.

  Walker’s shaking his head, palms up in defense. “Just asking if she was all right—that’s all.”

  Reid keeps going, his fists hanging by his thighs. Once he gets near enough, once Chief and Jace give him the opportunity, he’ll let it out. Until then, he flies forward, gaining inches as Walker looks around him, wondering if he should just bolt. The surrounding dancers notice the hostility and stand back, watching silently.