Violet Path

by Olivia Lodise

  “Let’s focus on footwork today. It’s one of your weaknesses,” Maxime said.

  “One of how many?” I asked a bit annoyed.

  “Never mind. Get into your starting position,” Maxime laughed. His gloom had disintegrated.

  I got into position, and he crouched down and lifted my right foot. I quickly caught my balance. He turned my foot a bit, then settled it back down. It felt very weird, like writing with the wrong hand. He stood up, admiring his minor change.

  “There, now it’s a lot easier for you to turn around and use more core power. It’s all biomechanics,” he explained.

  I evened out my weight on both feet. “It’s really uncomfortable.” I didn’t mean to complain, but it wasn’t a natural position.

  “That’s because it takes time to get rid of old habits and get used to new ones. Also, don’t be afraid to start the fight. You’re not aggressive enough. You shouldn’t wait for your opponent to attack—it could be your first and last mistake. Use the element of surprise and overwhelm your opponent from the beginning.”

  “But I never know what to do.”

  “Attack!”

  “Well, I know that, but what move?”

  “Any move!” Maxime smiled. He knew he wasn’t being very helpful.

  We spent the rest of the tutoring session working on my footing. Everything felt backward and new.

  We went to the river, but it was too cold to bathe, so we sat on the cold, damp ground and leaned against a huge tree trunk. He stayed silent, so I started a conversation.

  “How’s David?” I didn’t want to pour salt on a wound, but I was curious and worried. I needed answers.

  He looked at me with sad, navy-blue eyes. They had changed color again. He seemed to think for a long time before answering. “He’s still unconscious. Megan is keeping me informed. I’ll warn you if anything changes. Why do you ask?”

  “Why does it matter?” I felt the conversation take a turn for the worse, but I couldn’t answer his question. I didn’t know why I was interested in David’s health. He scared me. Not only had he shot me and kissed me, but he’d tried to slice off my head.

  “You can’t answer a question with a question,” Maxime said.

  I thought for an answer that I didn’t have.

  “Do you . . . like him?” Maxime hesitated.

  “No!” I jumped up, angry and embarrassed. How could he even ask me such a question? I couldn’t stand David. “And it’s none of your business. You wouldn’t ask anyone else that question.” I couldn’t control the words that came out of my mouth.

  “Fair enough, I’m sorry. But most people here talk about their wives back at Maria, so I wouldn’t have to ask.”

  I didn’t really know what to say. I stared at the wrinkled leaves as we waited for someone to break the silence. Finally, I said, “Why are we learning to use staffs, swords, and martial arts? Matthew is more of a gun person. He likes explosives and no contact.”

  “I was expecting that question,” he smiled, his emerald eyes gleaming. They had changed color again. “You’re learning technique before you get the weapon. Will designed a new weapon. It’s perfect to use against Matthew. It’s like a staff, but it’s a gun, a sword, and an electric shield. You’re learning the different skills you need to use it. It’s still in the making, and we only have enough for half of the soldiers here. The nice thing is that our plan does not involve a genocide of Tamizeh. We can easily fight Matthew’s soldiers off without having to kill them. Our army is one-tenth of Matthew’s, but we’re not brain damaged.”

  My eyes grew wide. “How do you know about the brain damage? And you called her ‘Tamizeh,’ not the ‘Community.’ Normally, outsiders don’t call her by name.” I caught his unusual choice of words, and his knowledge was worrisome.

  “I’ve done my homework.”

  “Not even those in Tamizeh know about the brain damage.”

  “Well, they’re also brain damaged.”

  I didn’t know how to answer. He had a point, but I wasn’t buying it. He was just trying to cover up his faux pas. “Well, isn’t it kind of dangerous to stay so close to the Community?”

  “Yes, but we haven’t been attacked.”

  “There’s always a first, not to be pessimistic or anything. Shouldn’t someone keep watch or something?”

  “David, Sam, Bill, Nick, Josh, Marc, and I take turns.”

  “Isn’t it tiring?” I asked.

  “You get used to it. We should start heading back,” he said as he stood. “By the way, it’s only going to get colder, so we’ll be setting up heated showers by the lake today. You’re welcome to use them. And because the days will be getting shorter, we’ll be getting up at four and going to sleep at eight, starting tomorrow. If you’d like, you can have your class before going to sleep instead of in the morning. That way, you can also shower when everyone else is sleeping,” Maxime explained as we walked back to The Shadows.

  Breakfast was served, and I sat next to David’s empty chair. I felt as if everyone was staring at me. If this camp was anything like Tamizeh, then rumors spread like wildfire. Everyone must have known what had happened between David and me.

  Marc and Maxime had left the table early, but I didn’t dare follow. I headed back to my cabin to practice some of the moves Maxime had taught me.

  Suddenly, I heard someone yell, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. I ran outside and followed the crowd to the long tables. Maxime was carrying Marc. Blood stained Marc’s shirt, and I couldn’t tell if he was breathing, but his eyes were closed and he was still. Sam brought over a long hover-board, and a couple of people helped lay Marc on it. Maxime was also covered in blood, but he didn’t seem injured.

  Sam tried to stop the bleeding by applying pressure on Marc’s abdomen with his sweater and hands. He whistled a short tune, and a caramel-colored horse ran to him. A man saddled the horse as two others tied the hover-board to the majestic animal. Sam got onto the horse and rode off. Everyone cleared the area. I was a bit confused, but understood the basics: Marc had been gravely hurt, which indicated that the whole camp was endangered. It was attack number two, following David’s.

  I looked at Maxime, who stood shocked with worried eyes. He motioned for me to follow him. When we entered his cabin, I hesitantly asked what had happened.

  “He was shot,” Maxime stated heavily.

  “By who?” I felt Marc’s pain in my abdomen as I remembered being shot by David.

  “I don’t know, but I don’t think that bullet was meant for him.” He pulled his bloody sweater off. “Marc was shot as we were walking back from class. We didn’t hear anything. I’m almost certain a silencer was used, but that’s all I know. He was targeted, because I wasn’t shot, but I don’t think he was the target. You both have black hair, you’re both about the same height, and everyone here is dressed the same. Alex, you need to take more precautions.”

  He was right in the sense that Marc and I could be easily mixed up. “Do you think it was Matthew?”

  “No, he wouldn’t have used a silencer. He would have revealed himself and shot me. Besides, he wants you alive, in one piece, not dead.”

  “Is Marc all right?” I asked.

  “I think he’ll recover, but nothing is guaranteed. He’ll stay at Maria for some time with David. Sam will keep me informed.” Maxime pulled a bucket of water out from under his bed and rinsed his hands without removing the black cloth. The water turned a pinkish hue from Marc’s blood.

  “Please bring your staff to class today.” He opened the door and threw out the tainted water.

  I sprinted to get my staff and to get to class on time. Everyone was talking about Marc. I remembered him telling me about his beloved fiancée. It only made me feel worse to learn that he had just joined The Shadows a month before I had. He was twenty years old, came from Namay, had two younger sisters, had lost his parents to Matthew, and was very caring and always stayed out of trouble. Nick was blaming Maxime for his
friend’s pain, but I felt like I was the one to blame.

  Maxime showed up with extra staffs for everyone who didn’t have one. He reviewed some footwork and movements before splitting us up into pairs. Unsurprisingly, Maxime was my partner and kept me on my feet the whole time.

  Maxime seemed full of rage, although he kept smiling. He attacked with hard and fast moves. I tried to use the “correct” footing, but couldn’t with speed. After some time, I started attacking, but quickly went back to being defensive. The hollow sound of our wooden staffs hitting each other was slightly irritating. Suddenly, Maxime hit my back, then my stomach, and my staff flew out of my hands. His staff was against my neck by the time I had finished blinking. I had lost again. I could hear his heavy breathing in sync with mine as he slowly lowered his stick.

  As usual, those who had lost had to do push-ups. We then learned a couple more moves, tricks, and facts that could be used as advantages. It was weird to analyze fighting like a science, but it was logical. As class ended, Maxime gathered the staffs and told me to go to the next class. He said that he would be a couple minutes late, and I hoped he was going to change out of his blood-covered clothes.

  I ran to the next class with Nick. Everyone had already lined up, so we found our spots and waited for Maxime in silence. The man next to me nudged me with his elbow. His light, brown eyes were surrounded by dark, brown eyebrows and pouring out rage.

  “So, you’re Alex. I’m T.J.” His voice was deep and vibrating with anger. He explained that we were going to take turns fighting two against one. I was going to start off on my own, but he reassured me that they were going to go easy on me.

  T.J. stood on my left and his friend Shawn on my right. We got into our starting positions, and I made sure I had the right footing. T.J. hit my back while Shawn struck my stomach, then T.J. went for my neck, but I blocked him, so Shawn hit my arm. I turned to face him as he lunged toward me, and I moved to the side. T.J. hit my back, so I turned toward him. I was getting confused. I turned to face one, so the other attacked. I couldn’t react correctly.

  T.J. struck, and I threw him back. I turned around before Shawn could hit me and was able to block him, but T.J. pulled my arm, scratching me. I kicked him away and kept my balance long enough to trip Shawn. T.J. got up and lunged, but I blocked. Shawn hit my abdomen, and I fell to the ground, out of breath, and my staff rolled out of reach. T.J. struck my back, sending a surge of pain down my spine. As I tried to get back up, he kicked me in the stomach. It hurt, and I couldn’t breathe. His staff met my neck and I froze.

  “I don’t see why people are impressed by your duels. You’re weak and clumsy,” said T.J. It was obvious that he hated me, but I didn’t know why.

  “Then why don’t you fight him on your own?” Maxime said from behind.

  T.J. pulled his staff back and moved aside. Maxime was standing there, holding both of our staffs. Everyone stopped to see what was going on.

  I got up slowly, embarrassed and sore, as silence amplified the tension surrounding us. I couldn’t look at anyone. Although I was thankful that Maxime had showed up, he appeared to be my guardian, which only made people hate me even more. I was like the teacher’s pet.

  “Come to my cabin later with a towel and change of clothes,” he whispered in my ear.

  I felt tears sting my eyes. I really didn’t belong here. Maxime went to the front of the class, his black eyes glaring at T.J. He had replaced the black cloth on his hand with a clean white one. Why did he wear that cloth around his hand? It was one of the many questions I had.

  Later that evening, I headed to Maxime’s cabin. I took a few seconds to steady my heartbeat before knocking, but before I could knock, the door flung wide open. Maxime stood there with dripping, wet hair and his shirt on backward. I was ready to laugh, but choked it back.

  He invited me in, but he didn’t look happy to see me.

  “Sam’s back, so I have an update on David and Marc.” He wasn’t smiling, and his tone was accusatory. “David is awake and stable, but he doesn’t remember anything after your tryout. Marc is conscious and looking well after the surgery. Megan is watching over both of them.” His words hung in the cool air.

  “Thank you,” was all I could come up with.

  I didn’t understand why David hadn’t returned even though he had regained consciousness. Marc had been shot, but David had only been drugged and programmed. I felt a huge weight on my shoulders as I considered the thought that Maxime had injured his brother. He couldn’t have, but it would explain his regret and sadness. I needed the truth.

  He toweled off his wet hair. “We just put the showers up, and there was a loose screw, so we got pretty drenched,” he said with a laugh.

  “Aren’t you cold?” I asked.

  “Yes, but I can wait. Come on, grab your towel,” he said.

  I didn’t move. “I need an explanation.”

  “What for?”

  “It might take a while, so please put a sweater on.”

  I sat on his bed while he dressed, anxious for answers.

  “So . . . what explanation do you need this time? I’m going to run out of answers to your questions soon.”

  “Why is David still at Maria? Is he injured? It just doesn’t make sense that he’s still absent.”

  “So you want the whole story . . .” He started to slowly pace around the room, looking for the right words. “He wouldn’t stop attacking you and was becoming more and more aggressive and violent. He wasn’t focused on anything but you. Every time I tried to distract him, he would just turn back to you. I dropped my sword, and he picked it up to attack you. Sam threw me another, and I held it against David’s back. I told him to stop, but he wouldn’t.” Maxime took a deep breath and tried to remain calm, although it was obvious that the memories were gnawing on his soul. “He just stepped back, right through my blade, as if he’d rather die than surrender.” Maxime paused, as if it was too horrible to talk about. “So to answer your question . . . yes, he is injured. That’s why he hasn’t returned.”

  I couldn’t speak. Maxime seemed full of sorrow, and I wanted to comfort him, but I didn’t even know what to say. He was taking responsibility for his brother’s madness and pain, and I couldn’t even formulate the words to relieve him of his guilt.

  “Your group has just finished up at the showers. I’ll escort you there,” Maxime said.

  “Okay,” I replied. I gathered my towel and a change of clothes. I was excited to shower as I hadn’t in a couple of days.

  Maxime walked stealthily between the cabins with his hand protectively on my shoulder. He was just being extra cautious. When we were far enough from other soldiers, he shattered the silence.“The showers are water-based, just like the sinks. They work like the ones you’ve probably encountered at your school in Tamizeh. Just turn the knob to get the water flowing. You can adjust the temperature—”

  “Thank you. I’ll figure it out.” I didn’t want to hear his explanation; it made me feel stupid.

  A wooden cabin stood in the middle of nowhere. “I’ll wait by that tree. If anyone comes, I’ll divert them, and I’ll knock if we need to leave. No one should be here, but there’s another door on the other side, so if you need me, just call. You have about fifteen minutes,” he said before walking to a tree about ten meters away from the door.

  I walked into the cabin and looked around. The sinks had individual mirrors, and there were rows of showers separated by metal benches. There was a second door directly across from me. The whole place was dimly lit. I quickly played with the water, figuring out how to turn it on and off and how to change its temperature.

  I undressed and stepped into the warm, soothing shower. It felt amazing and gave me a rush. I just stood under the running water and let it flow against my skin. I was more than glad to find soap and shampoo. I quickly cleansed myself, although the soap stung my cuts and scratches. I let the water wash away the soapy foam, and then I dried off. I felt clean and didn’t want to touch
anything, afraid to dirty my hands. I took my stuff, turned the lights off, and stepped out into the cold. My wet hair quickly got stiff and froze in the cool air.

  Maxime stood up from behind the tree and met me halfway. “Feel any better?” He smiled warmly.

  “Much better, thanks,” I smiled.

  Chapter 12

  Winter had finally showed its icy face. As we stood in line, waiting for the morning sun to warm us, I couldn’t help but shiver. The sharp wind lashed at our cheeks and noses, making them bright red. Last night, I had stitched some holes in my sweater before curling into a fetal position, protected by warm covers, but it didn’t help. I had woken up, shivering from the cold, knowing that this morning would not be warm. My lips were chapped, and my knuckles cracked from the freezing wind, leaving small, stinging cuts on my hands. But I couldn’t complain; everyone was suffering from the falling temperatures.

  Languid rays stretched between the bare tree branches and delicately brushed at our spines. Goosebumps dispersed down my back as the warmth gripped my nape. I closed my eyes for a second, absorbing the heat and savoring it.

  Maxime paced in front of us, a stoic look on his face. “George,” he called out. George stepped forward. “You’re thirty-seven, right?”

  “Yes, sir,” was George’s short, sharp answer.

  “Please join Group B with Sean, Langdon, Luke, Matteo, and Jim. You’re leading, replacing Marc. It’s a free block right now and next will be weapon-making. Thank you. Dismissed.”

  George marched off with his head held high. We all looked around, confused.

  Nick spoke up, “May we know why, sir?”

  “We’ve lost Marc. He passed away an hour ago. The bullet was poisoned. We didn’t have an antidote. The funeral will be tomorrow afternoon.” Maxime stared at the ground. Everyone was shocked and silent.

  I felt as though someone had dug a stick deep into my chest and was twirling it around. Marc’s death was my fault. I hadn’t known him and hadn’t meant to harm anyone, but I still felt guilty. That bullet was meant for me. Tears filled my eyes. I wanted to fade away, far from everyone.