by Kody Boye
The memories bombarded me as the cook slopped a serving of oatmeal and placed a piece of bread on my plate. I tried not to think of what a normal life would’ve been like in a world that hadn’t been visited by Them, and I found myself panicking as a result of it.
My throat tightened.
My lungs throbbed.
My heart felt close to bursting.
I took a moment to compose myself before opening my eyes to look at the world around me.
“Ana?” Jason asked. “Is everything all right?”
“Everything’s fine,” I lied. “Why?”
“You stopped.”
“I did?” I blinked. “Oh. Sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry,” he said. “Are you sure nothing’s the matt—”
“Let’s sit over there!” I said, leading him toward an unoccupied table beneath a spindly, leafy tree.
He didn’t say anything as he followed me to the bench. The look on his face was indicative of his feelings—of his complete bewilderment over what had occurred—but I tried to force a smile despite the abating panic. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” he said, spooning oatmeal into his mouth as we settled down at the table.
“How’d you get your scar?”
“Oh? This?” Jason ran a hand over the line of skin where hair didn’t grow on his left eyebrow. “I fell off my bike when I was a kid.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.” He laughed.
I hadn’t considered that his scar would have been from something so simple—that it would’ve come from something so innocuous. I’d always assumed it had something to do with that night all those years ago.
The night They came.
I shook my head, still forcing a smile, though I knew it probably looked comical. Trying my hardest to regain my bearings, I began to eat. At least while I chewed he couldn’t read my emotions. I hoped.
“Ana,” Jason said.
“Yeah?” I lifted my eyes for the first time in minutes.
“Thank you. For inviting me out, I mean. It means a lot.”
I smiled.
He smiled.
The birds chirped in the trees.
For one brief moment, I felt like a normal teenage girl.
Then I realized where we were—when we were—and how false that all was.
The notion, as sobering as it happened to be, wouldn’t keep me down, though. I was determined to make it a day Jason and I could both remember. For that reason, I leaned forward and asked him about everything from his favorite color down to what he would have done had he not joined the Midnight Guard.
His favorite color was green, and had he not joined the Midnight Guard, he would’ve worked on cars.
The sincerity in his words was enough to make me smile.
Chapter 5
After returning from my outing with Jason and collapsing into bed, I slept well into the evening. I was woken only when Xiomara began to shake my shoulders.
“Mia,” she said, close to my ear. “Wake up, Mia. It’s time to get ready.”
“Already?” I asked, opening my eyes. I craned my head to see that the sun was beginning to set and I would be expected in the armory to pick up my equipment soon.
With a sigh, I leaned forward. Pushing my hair from my face, I briefly considered Xiomara as she offered a smile that would’ve split her face in half had her mouth been any bigger.
“What?”
“Mom told me about your little outing with the Parks kid today,” she said.
“Oh God,” I replied, standing. “Don’t tell me she saw us at lunch.”
“Hate to say it, Sis, but she saw you.”
“How? I didn’t even see her.”
“You know Mom. She’s like a hawk. It’s the Native blood in her.”
“She’s really going to keep going on about this, isn’t she?” I cupped my face in one hand.
“She’s convinced you have a boyfriend now.”
“After seeing him only once?”
“Hey. You’re teenagers. Y’all move quickly.”
“Not that quick,” I replied, playfully smacking her on the arm as I made my way to the dresser to gather the dark clothes I would wear on the wall. “Hey—Xio.”
“Yeah?”
“When you first joined the Guard… how did you deal with others who had lost more than you had?”
“I learned to be sympathetic,” Xio said, “while trying not to project my own fears or insecurities onto them. It’s hard, losing someone. You and I both know that. But there are some people who’ve lost everything. Jason Parks… he isn’t like you or me. Which is why I would advise you to be careful if you decide to get close to him.”
“I just want to be his friend,” I replied.
“Still,” she said, “that can sometimes be too much.”
Could it, though?
Could being someone’s friend really hurt me more than being distant from them?
Unable to know unless I tried, I decided to do my best to help Jason out, regardless of how it worked out for me in the end.
I could take risks.
I’d already taken one by joining the Guard.
The night was cool, overcast, and tasted of rain—threatening to bring the unholy wrath of nature should we be so lucky as to meet her suffering. Huddled within a thick coat, I fought to keep my teeth from chattering. I watched the creatures in the distance as I held the first real gun I’d ever laid my hands upon. Every slight movement threatened to send my finger toward the trigger. My shivers, Their stares, Their wicked laughter when something would occasionally stir in the outside world—it all set me on edge, to the point where I considered the idea that being a Guardsman might not be for me.
I was not like my sister, headstrong and able to turn my emotions off at the flick of a switch. Nor was I like Jason—who, with both parents gone, had a personal vendetta against the creatures who stood outside the walls. Sure, my father had died; and sure, I lived with the memory of what happened to him every day. But each time I looked into Their eyes, I couldn’t help but feel as though I was weak inside.
Then I realized something: that was what They wanted me to think. The way They stared, the way They stood, the way They laughed—all was meant to instill within me a sense of fear that, were I not careful, could swallow me and the human race whole.
So I waited. And waited. And waited. Watching, staring, meeting Their eyes to the best of my ability.
I couldn’t let Them win. Not when the people of Fort Hope needed me so much.
Adjusting the gun in my arms, I peered down the row to find that Jason Parks stood next to Captain Henshaw in the cold and unforgiving night. His breath visible, his eyes remote, he glanced at me only once before jutting his chin toward the Coyotes waiting beyond the walls.
Did he not want me to look at him, I wondered, as I returned my eyes to my own section of land; and if so, why? Was it because he feared what I might see—that, in place of a young man, I would see nothing but a startled child, playing soldier as he held a gun to fight back the monsters from under the bed? It wasn’t unlikely, considering all he’d been through, but just because I thought one thing didn’t mean it was true. Maybe he just didn’t want me to watch. Or maybe he wanted me to keep an eye on the Coyotes outside my and Asha’s domain.
Either way, I couldn’t dwell on it.
The longer I thought about Jason, the more I was apt to become consumed with my own personal ramblings.
At my side, Asha cleared her throat, nudged my ribcage with her elbow, and lifted her head.
I looked up.
Distantly I could see what appeared to be a falling star, but knew was none other than a Harvester making its way into the higher atmosphere.
I lifted my hand to draw Captain Henshaw’s attention and pointed toward the fixture in the sky. He simply shook his head and gestured back to the Coyotes, more concerned about what was on the ground than what was ove
rhead.
I frowned.
I guess, in the end, it didn’t necessarily matter what was in the sky.
If what the captain had said was true—if, by some strange and miraculous chance, the Coyotes were able to communicate telepathically with those within the ships—then They already knew we were here.
With a sigh, I turned my gaze back to Asha, shrugged, and closed my eyes.
The nights were always long.
They just seemed longer when it felt like we were being watched from above.
Two days later, while enjoying leisurely activities on my free day off, a knock came at the door, startling me from the book I was reading. Unsure who it could be considering Xio was asleep in anticipation of her upcoming watch and my mother was at work, I rose from bed. I started toward the door, only to find a Guardsman staring at the doorway, awaiting an answer to his summons.
What could he possibly want at this hour of the afternoon? And on my day off, no less? Was it for more training?
With a shake of my head, I reached forward, undid the deadbolt and lock, then opened the door. “Hello?” I asked.
“Ana Mia Sofia Berrios?” he asked, waiting for me to nod. “Captain Henshaw would like to see you at the armory.”
“Now?” I frowned.
He nodded. “Yes ma’am. It’s imperative you get there as fast as you can. He’s in need of assistance and asked for you personally.”
Why did he want me, though? Did they need help repairing the walls—because if so, I knew nothing about construction. And if it was for something else, then what?
With a nod, I cast a glance back into my apartment, waiting a moment to see if Xiomara would awaken to see what the commotion was. I then grabbed my key from the rack beside the door and let myself out. “What is it the captain needs?” I asked.
“That would be better explained by him,” the man replied, then turned and made his way down the road.
“Wait a second!” I called, though he did not slow his pace, as if haste was necessary in the matter at hand.
After double-checking to ensure the door was secured behind me, I turned and took off after the man.
Though I knew answers were not far off, I’d have preferred them sooner rather than later, especially when I should have been taking the time to recoup from the grueling hours of the Midnight Guard.
Oh well.
It wasn’t as if I hadn’t expected things like this to happen.
As Xiomara had said: I needed to savor the moments I had to myself. My life was bound to the Guard now, whether I liked it or not.
It took only a few minutes for me to cross the complex and make my way to the armory. As I entered, and as I prepared for whatever it was that would come, I found Asha Dawson and Jason Parks present. Both were armed, and each wore the bulletproof chest pieces typical of our Midnight Guard attire.
“Asha?” I asked as I closed the door behind me. “Jason?”
“Ah,” Captain Henshaw said. “You’re here. I was wondering when you’d show up.”
“Sorry,” I said after a moment’s hesitation. “I wasn’t expecting to be pulled out for…” I paused. “Why exactly am I here?”
“I’ve a proposition for you, Ana Mia. If you’d hear me out.”
I nodded and straightened my posture.
“As you are already aware, winter will soon be upon us. Here in Texas, winter doesn’t—and excuse my language when I say this—screw around. The temperatures drop below freezing, we sometimes get snow, the roads get icy. Basically: it becomes uninhabitable. Given that we don’t have enough electricity to power personal generators, we’re going to need some supplies to get us through. This is where you come in.
“I am offering you the chance to assist your community by inviting you to join me and your two companions on a supply run into the greater Fredericksburg area. Though I imagine it’s been years since you’ve been outside the walls, this will give you a chance to see the world and everything that’s happened to it since you arrived.”
“Sir?” I asked, my eyes widening like saucers. “You’re asking us to go outside the walls with you?”
“Yes, Berrios. I am.”
“Why us, though? Is it because we’re new?”
“It’s because the three of you are young, have shown promise on the walls, and are likely to bounce back faster than some of the older recruits if we ask them to change their schedules. I can’t offer you much in the way of adjustments, but I would appreciate an extra hand out in the field, especially one who’s shown to be an excellent shot.”
“Have you already accepted?” I glanced between Jason and Asha.
“I have,” Asha said.
“And so have I,” Jason replied.
I turned back to Captain Henshaw, who merely offered a short frown when I didn’t immediately reply.
I couldn’t believe it.
After six years of living my life inside the safety of Fort Hope, he was asking me to go outside the walls. What would I find out there? Would it be hopeless? Desolate? Would I find destruction, or would I find nothing but the lingering ghosts of the old world?
Nodding, I crossed the brief distance to the mesh wall and slid my hand under the opening. “I’ll go.”
“Excellent news,” Henshaw said, reaching out to shake my hand. “Thank you, Ana Mia. You do your community proud.”
We sat in the back of a giant Humvee as we made our way toward the heart of Fredericksburg. Though the streets were mostly devoid of trash, vehicles littered their surfaces. It made smooth travel almost impossible. Several times we had to drive onto the curbs to make our way from one point to another, which only served to aggravate my carsickness and the emotional butterflies that came with it.
“Hey,” Jason said, turning to face me. “Are you all right?”
“Just a little sick is all.” I grimaced as we went over another bump.
“This is horrible,” Asha agreed. She trained her eyes on the outside world, where single homes stood sentinel like giants who’d long lost their purpose in the world. “There’s a whole world out here and we can’t even be in it.”
“You could,” Henshaw said from the driver’s seat, “but it wouldn’t end well for you.”
With a nod, she settled back into her seat. She adjusted her hold on the loaded gun in her lap, her normally-happy eyes filled with sadness as she watched the world pass by.
I could understand her frustration—had lived with it like an illness until I’d learned to accept it for what it was. There we were, a bunch of people cooped up in a small apartment complex when we could’ve been living in a wide world filled with resources and space. We could’ve had our own homes, our own rooms, our own stores. It wasn’t fair having to live the way we did, cramped together in single or efficiency apartments, but at the very least, we were safe. Nothing had ever broken the perimeter of Fort Hope; and nothing ever would, so long as people like us held the walls and roamed the streets.
Captain Frank Henshaw pulled the Humvee to a stop. “Listen up,” he said, his voice loud and booming even though it didn’t necessarily have to be. “Now that we’ve arrived at our destination, we’re going to go over some ground rules. Are you listening?”
Me, Asha, and Jason nodded.
“There’s seven of us in total,” the man said, “four here, three in the other Humvee. To make this process as quick as possible, we’re going to hit houses as fast as we can, starting with the ones on the opposite side of the street.”
“What are we looking for, sir?” Jason asked.
“Anything that can provide comfort and warmth to the people during the winter. Blankets, clothes, candles, empty flower pots and cinderblock. The latter objects are essential. They will be used to create makeshift fireplaces for the bedrooms during the winter and provide warmth without burning actual wood. Don’t bother searching the pantries unless you have reason to believe there are emergency supplies such as flashlights or first-aid kits. The food will all be spoile
d by this point.”
“Anything else we should know?” Asha asked.
“Be on the lookout for Coyotes. Though we aren’t likely to find Them walking about, They may be hiding in the homes.”
“We just break in?” I asked.
“Yes. With whatever force necessary.” The captain paused, then turned his attention to the world beyond the Humvee. “All right then, everyone. Move out!”
Jason, Asha, and I pooled out of the vehicle and strode toward the opposite side of the street. Captain Henshaw opened the back of the Humvee and cleared space for the supplies we would be ferrying back to the fort, though judging by the state of some of the houses, we likely wouldn’t find much to begin with.
“You think we’ll find what we need?” I followed Jason to the first of five houses on the row.
“Let’s hope so,” he said. “Otherwise it’s going to be extremely cold in the coming months.”
“I don’t think I could take another winter with just blankets,” Asha admitted, shivering even though the breeze was hardly cold at all.
I didn’t want to admit it, but I didn’t think I could either. The previous year had been so bad, so cold, so hopeless. I’d spent half the time huddled in bed and the other half wearing as many layers of clothes as I possibly could. What I hadn’t realized—what I hadn’t fully comprehended until the last few years—was that, even though we didn’t get snow like people up north, the humidity could make it feel just as cold, if not worse. It wasn’t just a surface chill that afflicted your skin come winter time; it was an all-encompassing, bone-numbing sensation that could drive you mad even when it wasn’t below freezing.
