Uprising

by J. Thorn

  And just before I went under, I again pictured the eagle I’d seen in the prison yard.

  Freedom and courage.

  9

  Time had chiseled the mountains on the horizon like a row of white pearls. I couldn’t help but think how beautiful the snow-capped peaks appeared as I stole glances at the range while working the rails the next day. They reminded me of the Cascades back home, but unlike that majestic rock, this range sat above a filthy, demoralizing cage that seemed to steal the life essence from the prisoners one slow second at a time.

  I’d been ordered to work in a different section of the yard than Kora and Julyen that morning, down the tracks from where they had been stationed. It gave me space to think about the choice I’d been forced into making.

  Choice.

  What a joke. If I hadn’t been aching all over and banging on the stupid railway ties, I might’ve laughed out loud at that notion. At least they let us work without the shackles. As it was, I did manage a brittle sigh at the possibilities. If it were up to me, the only alternative would be to go home. Still, Emil had given me an ultimatum, and it was one I knew I had to take seriously. Every decision I made from here on would determine how fast I would get out of this place and get back to Seattle. To Corvus.

  Absence had a funny way of unearthing memories. People, too. Kora’s chattering wasn’t unlike that of my friend Lyra, who I was sure could talk underwater. Even Emil and his crew stirred my yearning for home. I knew his kind when I saw them—they were like Jaef. It’s weird how we learn most of our lessons from the people who hurt us the most.

  I was hauling another railway tie into place and pondering just that when a commotion broke out behind me.

  “Back off, asshole.”

  Dropping the tie, I turned to see Julyen and Emil facing each other, both of them with their hands balled into fists.

  Up until that moment, I’d thought Julyen a mellow guy. He was reserved and mostly quiet, and even with his solid build and tough expression, it was kindness I mostly saw in his eyes. And from what Kora said, Julyen’s mind drifted on him. From where I stood now, though, I noticed there was fire in his black eyes that could have frightened the devil.

  Kora stood next to Julyen like a sassy soldier, sticking her chin into the air while her face contorted into a hateful sneer. I could barely make out what they were saying after Emil’s initial outburst, their voices tight and low so that the guards wouldn’t take notice. But whatever had gotten them all riled up had escalated quickly.

  I’d just started heading for them to see what was happening with my friends when Julyen swung with a nice stiff left, driving his fist into Emil’s jaw. I heard the thwack from where I was down the line. I must admit, I was quietly impressed by his form and power, to the extent that my feet went frozen while the air caught in my lungs. Emil stumbled back into one of his buddies standing behind him, who in turn pushed him forward onto his feet.

  All the prisoners on the chain gang now focused on the fight, and soon so would the guards. I began to run toward them as Kora’s verbal abuse moved into a high-pitched screech. My gaze never left them as I closed in while Julyen ducked Emil’s jab, immediately following up with an uppercut into Emil’s throat.

  Emil barked, grabbed at his throat, and gasped for air while his crazed eyes almost popped from his head. His crew advanced, shouting insults and waving their fists in the air.

  “You little bitch.” Emil coughed and his voice cracked, but he seemed to have recovered enough from the punch to spit words at Julyen.

  The smaller guy swiveled fast and clipped the back of Emil’s head with a flat palm. “Bitch? The only bitch I see around here is you, with your lips on the guards’ asses.”

  The prisoners laughed, even more so when Julyen grinned and gave a short bow just as Emil turned to face him with a snarl.

  I threw myself into the middle of it, my palms flashing at both while I regained my breath. “Stop it!”

  Emil’s face turned beet-red as his eyes locked on mine and the guards hustled through the crowd, waving their clubs and yelling at anyone who got in their way. Emil took a deliberate step back, intentionally holding my gaze. The cluster of people widened then, and suddenly I found myself halfway between Julyen and Emil.

  “Here come the guards, sweetheart.” Emil grinned, his face splotchy and his voice wavering from the punch to the throat. “Where you gonna be standing when they get here?”

  As the guards broke up the crowd, I felt my feet moving without direction from my brain. I didn’t even think about it. It was then I realized I never really needed to.

  When the guards arrived and stood between the combatants, I had already moved to stand behind Julyen and Kora. I’d made my choice.

  10

  Dust filled the air after the guards descended on the fight, adding to the chaos. I couldn’t help but wonder if that would have happened had Emil not been in it the middle of it. Would they have let two random prisoners beat each other senseless? The guy must have had deep connections with the prison guards, and that almost had me second-guessing the decision I’d made to stand with Julyen and Kora instead of Emil. He swaggered as he walked away from the crowd and threw me a tight smile with a quick nod. Lastly, Emil drew a finger across his throat before turning away and disappearing with the guards.

  I tried to shake it off with a shrug and swung my gaze to Julyen and Kora. She opened her mouth to say something, but clamped her lips shut when she noticed the look on my face.

  “Yeah, don’t. I’d rather not talk to you two right now,” I said.

  I tried to smile—I really did. But I couldn’t. So, I nodded and allowed myself to be consumed by another contingent of angry guards and sweaty prisoners as the prison police tried to restore order and then put us back to work. I had new prisoners on either side of me but didn’t bother to look up. It was then I felt the tug on my arm.

  “Hello. I’m Wyllow.”

  “Leave me be, Wyllow. I’m in no mood for introductions.”

  The girl with golden eyes and ruby lips broke into a grin. A witch? I wasn’t so sure about that. But I felt an energy in Wyllow’s gaze, as if I wanted to look away but couldn’t.

  The guards looked at us, so we dropped our voices as we continued to lift rails.

  “I saw what happened. Between you and Emil. I think you’ve made a bad choice.”

  My scowl deepened. “None of your business. Stay out of it.”

  “Everyone knows everything in this shit hole.” Wyllow kept her head facing forward but turned her eyes to me. “I see things. Things others can’t. That’s why I’m warning you to be careful.”

  I stepped back and scoffed. Things. What was that supposed to mean?

  And then it felt as if Wyllow’s voice was inside of my head. I even paused, looking at the guards to see if they heard her. If they had, they gave no indication. In that moment, I thought of Asher again and the way I could be vulnerable around him. Whatever power he had over me, it seemed as though Wyllow did as well. Before I could think twice, I was asking her a question.

  “Do you believe dreams have significance?”

  Her ginger brows lifted with a glimmer in her eyes.

  “Dreams are a mysterious realm with endless possibilities. A dream will have meaning only to those who are aware enough to understand it. What are you dreaming about?”

  I hesitated, wringing my fingers. Suddenly, I felt self-conscious and I thought I’d said too much. Me and my big mouth.

  She glanced around at the guards before shaking her head, her eyes wide as a brandy moon. “Well?”

  I shrugged and looked at my feet.

  “I can’t remember exactly what it was about, but there was fire and blood… and you were there.” I’d said the last of those words quietly, and waited for her response.

  She looked at me for what felt like the longest time, and the chaotic world around us seemed to fall away. I began to feel like an idiot. I mean, how could she ever understand t
hat I’d have a dream about her, someone I didn’t even know? Crazy. I was crazy, and she’d tell everyone.

  Wyllow stood up straight as if she’d been prodded by a guard. Her eyebrows went up and her mouth fell open. And, a split second later, she resumed her usual demeanor, flashing me a grin and a shrug.

  “It’s probably nothing.”

  Her smile faded as our eyes locked. My breath became erratic and intense all at once, and then the moment was over as fast as it had arrived, and the guards were all over us.

  “Get, you two!”

  “Go on. Get back to work before you get a beating.”

  Wyllow started to walk away before turning around one more time. “Hey, Rayna, do you believe in soul connections?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “They feel like you’ve known someone before you know them.”

  I frowned as the guards escorted her away to another work space further on down the tracks, all the while wondering about what she’d said and the strangeness of our encounter. I wasn’t so sure what she was talking about, but I was certain we would talk again.

  11

  “C’mon, girl. Move it.”

  I grabbed my tray and spun around to see an older woman with straw for hair and bleeding gums with no teeth.

  “Take your bowl and go!”

  It wasn’t worth the effort, so I did just as the old hag had told me and found a seat. Even the cacophony in the lunch room couldn’t distract me from the sludge congealing in the bottom of my bowl. The old cook had said it was some kind of stew. It was some kind of something, but a hearty stew would’ve been the last thing I’d have guessed. Still, I forced myself to take a cold spoonful, knowing I needed to replenish my energy.

  I set down the spoon, my eyes glazing over while memories rose inside of me like a rising tide. The urge to stand before Corvus again was becoming unbearable. And in the darkest hours when sounds echoed through the prison, that was when the memories haunted me the most. I was torn between a sense of hopelessness and loss—so much so that my heart felt hollow. My village was gone, my friends and family dead or captured. But some had to have survived, as I had. And I would make it back to Seattle to make things right or I would die. I didn’t see any other option.

  Ignoring the stares of Emil and his gang as I scanned the room, I peered around the lunch room for Wyllow. A ripple of disappointment fluttered through me when I couldn’t spot her anywhere, and I frowned.

  That’s odd.

  I couldn’t explain why I felt the way I did about Wyllow—I just knew she evoked a sense of clarity within me. Maybe it was the ring of truth in her words. Maybe it was that she was enchanting. Or perhaps it was that she’d asked if I believed in soul connections.

  Soul connections.

  As the words floated in my mind, I felt a tingle bloom at the base of my neck and shimmer down my spine. To be honest, I had never contemplated what a soul connection might be; I hadn’t even heard anyone use the phrase before. If I had to guess, I’d have said Asher was one of my soul connections. I always knew deep down that, wherever Asher was, that was where I wanted to be.

  I straightened up and pushed the thoughts of Asher aside as Kora slid onto the bench seat next to me.

  “Hey, enjoying the meal service? I hear we’re having high tea today… in the form of brown glug.” She lifted her spoon, letting the brown liquid drip back into the bowl before she took a loud slurp and spoke with a mouthful.

  “Have you seen Julyen? I can’t find him anywhere.”

  “Nope.”

  Her fair brows knitted. “I’m worried because sometimes the guards double-up shifts and you don’t get to eat when they do that. But they’ve never double-shifted Julyen.”

  She lifted her eyes to look around the lunch room brimming with prisoners and guards, but there was no sign of Julyen. She stared hard at Emil.

  “Don’t worry about that thug.”

  I shook my head and waved it off. I wasn’t. I wanted to tell Kora about my encounter with Wyllow, but I wasn’t sure how she’d react.

  Kora looked back down at her bowl. “They would have put him back in the yard and then lunch after the fight, right? I mean, Emil is in here…” she said, her voice trailing off.

  I brushed my hand lightly over her shoulder. “I’m sure he’s fine. You’ll see.”

  To get her mind off Julyen, I’d just decided to tell her about my conversation with Wyllow when the horn blew, signifying the end of mealtime.

  The guards began their ritual.

  “Get up, vermin. Back to your cells!”

  “On your feet, assholes!”

  While getting back in line to return to our cell, I fought to keep from feeling every bit the number on which my identity now rested. Somehow, I knew that if I wanted to stay strong in here, it would depend on the perspective I had of myself. And I was no number. I was like my father, who led the uprising against the Crows when I was just a small child. He did that for me, for my freedom, and he died with courage in fighting for that cause. Living under oppression is a form of dying.

  12

  “Go, go!”

  “Don’t stop! Back to your cells. Now!”

  The guards banged their clubs against the walls as they screamed and the sound of the horn blasted through the prison halls as we were herded to our cell block. I dropped my chin and shuffled along, silently thankful we were going back to our cells and not to the work yard. My body still ached from head to toe, and I would take the extra rest gratefully.

  “What’s going on?” one prisoner dared to ask, but his question was met with a swift beating against his calves along with a barrage of insults. The prisoner yelped as he buckled under the force of the club, his buddies catching him before he could hit the ground and get trampled.

  My pulse began to race hot in my veins. The longer this chaos went on, the more nervous I became. This didn’t feel like normal procedure. I had no idea what the alarm meant, but whatever it was, I knew it wasn’t anything good.

  I leaned toward Kora as we drew closer to the cell block.

  “What’s happening?”

  A guard got in my face. “Shut up! Keep moving!”

  Kora snaked her fingers through mine, keeping me close until the guards looked away. Then her breath blew hot against my ear.

  “It means something’s happened, like an accident or someone’s tried to escape. We just have to wait it out in our cells till it’s all over.”

  We reached the doorway of our block and she tugged at my hand, pulling me through into the dank hall.

  “C’mon, let’s just get out of this mess and into our cell.”

  I couldn’t believe I was longing to get back into my cage. I hated being in the hallway, squeezed against hot smelly bodies with mouth rot and urine-stained pants.

  As we entered the block, there was a sudden halt in the pushing and shoving of the prisoners trying to get back into their cells. Guards had gathered in a tight circle, their meaty necks bulging. Something had caught their attention, and whatever it was made them stop yelling at us and begin making comments to each other.

  “He’s a goner.”

  “What a bloody mess.”

  “I’m not touching that diseased corpse.”

  Kora and I had no choice but to stop as the area became congested. Some prisoners pushed against the guards, leaping on their feet for a peek at whatever had captured their attention. The noise escalated to a deafening roar, the alarm now a permanent buzz in my ears.

  But it was the underlying scent that dominated my senses and curled in my gut—the distinct, coppery smell of fresh blood. I dropped my eyes to the floor, cringing when I noticed the bloody footprints.

  I pulled on Kora’s hand and tried to maneuver around the frantic prisoners jockeying for a closer look. I needed to get away from here. It was then that I got a good view of what had caused the commotion.

  Julyen’s limp body sat broken and twisted in a dark pool of his own blood. I froze at
the same time Kora’s high-pitched scream made me flinch. She tore her hand from mine and charged forward.

  “Kora, wait!” But she was out of reach and already through the wall of guards, sobbing on her knees beside Julyen.

  I swallowed hard as I watched her. The guards hauled her to her feet and shoved her back toward me and the line of prisoners while she screamed, her arms waving as she tried to claw her way back to Julyen.

  I caught her arms and pulled her close, wrapping both my arms around her trembling body and supporting her weight as she almost collapsed at my feet.

  “Don’t show them weakness. Hold it in.” I tightened my hold on her as I whispered the words into her ear, practically holding her upright.

  “Ya better get that feral back to her cell before she ends up like her friend here.”

  I glared at the guard, but nodded, giving him the impression of obedience while the fire in my belly began to burn hotter.

  13

  When someone you love dies, a part of your heart is forever dissolved along with their essence. The feeling is surreal and tangible at the same time, and the reality that you’ll never see their face again returns daily like a morning mist—cool, cloudy, and a chill to the bones. I guess dying is all a part of living.

  But I couldn’t tell Kora any of that. Words do nothing to comfort the grieving, and I wasn’t about to try.

  I paced along the walls of the cell. We’d been in there for God knows how long, but it felt like hours had passed since the guards had locked the prison down. I kept one eye on Kora while giving her the space she needed, and kept one ear to the ground. Rumors had a way of passing through the prison halls in echoing whispers.

  My thoughts matched the pace of my feet. The dreams I’d been having flashed vividly, dancing in my mind’s eye. I had known something bad was coming. I wasn’t sure how I’d known, but I realized my dreams and senses had given me insights into the immediate future. I just hadn’t known it at the time.