by Brenda Poppy
By that time, Burn’s laughter had subsided, but she didn’t have the presence of mind to flee. Or fight. Or do anything other than stand there and watch as the man heaved her colleague onto the cart and turned back to her.
“Are you coming, little lady?” he asked, his hand outstretched. Seeing no other options, Burn took his hand and climbed into the cart.
✽✽✽
As they rode slowly through the rolling hills of umber and sepia, Burn took stock of her situation. Although her brain was still foggy from the noxious air, a little of her reason had returned, and she was able to take in some of their route as they traveled. She tried to imprint it on her memory in case she needed to retrace it later, but her inability to tell one sand dune from the next was making it difficult.
The cart was being led by the strangest animal Burn had ever seen. It looked like some combination of a donkey and a ram, with curled horns protruding from its long head. In theory, it shouldn’t have been strong enough to pull them along by itself, but it was bearing the weight with ease, plodding methodically through the sand with hardly any guidance from the man beside her.
“Who are you?” Burn asked tentatively, eyeing the stranger.
On his own – without the gun – the man wasn’t overtly threatening, with a scrawny build and no muscle mass to speak of. In different circumstances, Burn might have been inclined to get to know him, to discover his story and what had brought him to this perilous place. Yet out here, so far from everything and everyone she’d ever known, her first priority was to acquire as much information as she could.
“I’m Jez,” the stranger said matter-of-factly, as if his name on its own would be enough to quell her curiosity. It wasn’t. So Burn tried again.
“Where are we going?”
“Back to Videre,” he said simply, as if trying to answer her query in as few words as possible.
She exhaled heavily, a sliver of frustration breaking through the haze of her mind. “And what is Videre?”
“It’s my home.” Clearly, Jez could do this all day.
“Jez,” Burn turned to him, clasping her hands in front of herself as if she were praying, “why are you taking us to Videre? What is it you plan to do with us there?” She spoke slowly and evenly, enunciating through her mask, which she’d pulled back over her mouth to keep out the sand.
Sensing that Burn was in no mood for his games, Jez turned to look at her, heaving a sigh.
“Look, I don’t know what they’re gonna do with you. If you’re useful, they’ll probably let you stay. If you’re worthless – or worse, a Peace Officer – they’ll kick you out and let you fend for yourself out here.”
“Who’s ‘they’?” Burn asked, her voice wary.
“Oh, the others that make up Videre. There are a couple hundred of us now. We’re one of the largest exile camps outside of Kasis. Got some of the best mutants, too. That’s what makes us so powerful. The others wouldn’t dare attack us.”
Jez smiled at this, like he had singlehandedly made Videre what it was today. Despite her lack of knowledge on the subject, Burn had a feeling that was not the case.
Yet her mind reeled at all he had said. Hundreds. There were hundreds of exiles in their camp alone. How many Kasians were out here? And how did they survive in this bleak and barren landscape? And, a voice chimed in at the back of her mind, was she useful or would she be deemed worthless and chucked back into these unforgiving wilds?
She looked around at the lifeless mounds of sand, which all but sizzled in the heat of the sultry suns. This was an infinite wasteland, a sinister scene, and it whispered a forbidding song of predators and prey. This was not a place she wanted to find herself stranded, alone and defenseless. But if what Jez had said was true, then the decision wouldn’t be up to her.
“Thank you,” she managed to whisper, grateful for the information despite its gravity. Jez just nodded, giving her a small smile before returning his gaze to the desert before them.
They traveled in silence for a time, with Burn lost in a blur of foggy thoughts and Jez seemingly content with the lack of conversation. Burn guessed he was the kind of man who would be content in any situation, equally comfortable talking or not, alone or in the company of others. As if to emphasize this point, he began to whistle. It was a tuneless song, something made up on the spot rather than a familiar melody, but it was pleasant enough that Burn didn’t protest.
She wasn’t sure how long they traveled for. Burn had lost sight of the dome within minutes of their departure, with the sand rising up in dunes to cloak them in the shroud of the desert. Now when she looked back, she could no longer say with certainty from which direction they had come. Any hope of getting back, of somehow returning to Kasis and sneaking into the city, faded with a painful sinking feeling that bordered on despair.
As Burn gradually pushed through the haze and confusion, her chest ached for everything she was leaving. Her home. Her mission. The Lunaria. The thought of never seeing them again, of not being able to talk to them or help them or fight beside them, was almost too much to bear. They would presume she had died. They would mourn her. Then they’d go on with their lives, relegating her to the past and pressing on with their futures – futures without her in them.
A stab of pain shot through her at the thought of Scar. Her heart constricted as the image of her sister’s face, lost and broken, floated into her mind. It felt like an invisible line had been strung between them, and as the distance mounted it was slowly pulling her apart.
A sudden, irrational urge came over her to jump from the cart and run, to tear through the desert like the pain tore through her. She had to stop herself from vaulting over the side, holding onto the wood of her seat until splinters dug into her palm.
She closed her eyes, fighting back the tears that threatened to break free. She couldn’t show weakness, not here. She had to be strong, had to show these people of Videre that she was clever and useful. There would be time later to mourn. Right now she had to focus on survival.
The path ahead of them gradually changed, morphing from desolate dunes of sand to packed earth and rocks. Outcroppings of stone rose from the horizon, resolving into hills and plateaus as they grew nearer. Sand still blew around the cart and climbed the rock faces in an attempt to consume them, but its power was diminished, beaten back by the sheer cliffs and immovable boulders. Everything coalesced to paint a picture of a world that was ragged and rigid and utterly foreign.
As the cart departed its sandy path in favor of more level ground, its speed increased, the creature leading it spurred into a jog. Although Burn had no idea where they were headed, it felt like they were getting close, and the tension in her veins increased to a hum. Despite her wild imagination, she had no idea what she was walking into, and the precarious nature of the unknown frightened her.
Feeling more alone than she had since she’d jumped into the Pit, she risked a glance back at Hale. His breathing was regular, yet his eyes remained shut, blocking out the world. Burn couldn’t tell if he was still unconscious or merely feigning it in order to gain some element of surprise, but he stayed immobile save for the light rise and fall of his chest. The sight did nothing to cure her loneliness, and she returned her attention to the road ahead.
Jez had stopped whistling by that point, instead concentrating on something unseen in the distance. Burn followed his gaze but couldn’t make out anything other than rocks and mounds of sand. So she closed her eyes, centering herself and focusing her thoughts on the path. At first she could hear nothing besides the lonesome cries of the wind and the restless movement of sand across the surface of the planet. As she listened closer, however, she began to hear voices.
They were distant and quiet, mere murmurs among the landscape, but they were there – and there were a lot of them. They were nearing Videre. Burn opened her eyes and sat up in her seat, craning her neck in an attempt to discern the village and its people. The voices grew louder, but Burn still couldn’t see an
ything that resembled a town, at least not the type she was familiar with.
Then it struck her: The rocks and piles of sand in the distance were Videre. Her suspicions were confirmed when what she had thought were natural formations resolved into buildings and homes. Since they were made out of the same substances as their surroundings, they were nearly indistinguishable from the undulating tan landscape, blending seamlessly with the surrounding dunes and hills.
As they approached, Burn began to make out more details of the camp. The whole thing was nestled into a vast V-shaped cliff face. Two other man-made walls comprised of stone and clay were attached to the cliffs and closed off the area, with only one gate allowing entrance or exit. The gate currently lay open, and Burn could just perceive people as they went about their daily lives, their small forms looking like ants from her perch on a hill above them.
There were many buildings within the enclave, but they weren’t like anything she had ever seen. In Kasis, houses were built from steel and glass and concrete, one on top of another with more to the sides. But these were different. For one thing, they were spaced out, with gardens and clothes lines and sheds between one house and the next. For another, they were composed of warm desert earth and clay. The result was buildings that seemed to rise from the sand, as if the desert itself had produced them and could just as easily swallow them up.
There must have been nearly a hundred buildings of varying shapes and sizes, not just houses, but shops and workspaces, all interspersed with roads and alleys. This was more than a camp, Burn realized with a start; it was an entire city.
Chapter 4
Burn wondered how long all of this had been here. It was clearly not a new development, but rather one that had sprouted over time, adding buildings and people over years and decades.
Did the Peace Force know about Videre? Burn couldn’t imagine they did. If they had, they would never have allowed these people to exist outside of the bounds and laws of Kasis. They would never be able to resist exerting control, dominating these people just like they did to everyone under their dome.
Then again, if what Jez said was true, this was a city of freaks, of mutants, of outcasts who were no longer wanted in Kasis. If the Peace Force had learned about them, they would have attacked and killed every one of them just to eradicate the threat.
As their cart drew closer to the sprawling city, Burn noticed a raucous band of children playing in the streets, laughing and chatting and running around. The sight was almost foreign to her, and it brought a shadow of a smile to her worry-stricken face. Kids in Kasis learned quickly to be quiet, to do what they were told, to not make a nuisance of themselves lest they anger someone in charge. Yet these children were free; they were happy.
They also weren’t Kasians. While the Peace Force was corrupt beyond her knowledge, they rarely took children. When they did, they “re-educated” them or used them to further their own endeavors – they didn’t chuck them down the Pit. No, these were children of the wildlands, a new breed born and raised outside of the dome.
Despite her fear of the unknown – and of what might become of her once they reached the city – a tantalizing thrill of curiosity rang through her. What else was Videre hiding? How had it survived all these years? And what was life like inside its walls?
If Burn’s fate weren’t currently being held in the balance, resting on some faceless jury, she might even consider this an adventure, a new place to explore with new people to meet. Except she didn’t yet have that luxury. Not until they decided she could stay. If they decided she could stay.
The thought was sobering, and she sat up straighter, alert and on her guard. She even rehearsed what she would say, crafting her case on how she could be an asset to such a city. She could act as a guard – or a spy. She could scan the city for plots to seize power. She could assist in trade negotiations – if there were any – by listening for the other side’s true desires. She was useful, she told herself, repeating the phrase like a mantra in her head.
As they reached the gate, Jez looked up, and Burn followed suit. Guards armed with deadly sharp spears manned the walls on either side of the entrance. Recognizing Jez, they nodded him through, keeping a wary eye on Burn and Hale as the cart rolled into the city.
“We should find Imber at the town hall,” Jez stated as they made their way down the main thoroughfare. “He’ll decide what happens to you.”
“Is he your leader?” Burn asked, trying to get a lay of the land.
“Yes and no,” Jez said cryptically, then went on to explain. “We all have a say in what goes on here. As you can see, Videre is not like Kasis. We all do our part to keep it running. In return, we share in the city’s food and resources, helping others when they need it and knowing they’ll help us in return. It’s a good system.”
“So…how does Imber factor into it all?” Burn queried.
“Well, Imber is sort of our unofficial representative,” Jez explained, trying to find the right words to describe the man’s position. “His gift is water. Because of him, we’re not dependent on external water sources and complex irrigation systems. We have a well, of course, but it’s sort of a backup in case anything happens.”
He pointed over to a corner of the city, although Burn’s view of the well was obscured by houses and shops. She made a note of its location anyway, figuring any knowledge about Videre’s layout might come in handy.
“Since Imber was so crucial to the city’s success, he sort of became our decision-maker. He’s pretty good at determining who’s gonna be useful – and who might end up being a problem.”
Jez smiled at that, seemingly proud that he’d summed up the city and its politics so simply for her. But Burn still had so many questions smoldering within her. This time, however, she kept them to herself.
Instead, she took in her surroundings. By then, evening had settled softly over the city, and people flowed busily through the streets. She spotted men and women removing laundry from clothes lines, shaking the items vigorously to dislodge the sand. Around them, kids chased each other with glee, shrieking and laughing as they ran.
Farther afield, men knelt in gardens, pulling weeds and putting produce into baskets. Somewhere toward the back of the city, more strange animals loitered in pens and cages, tended to by gangs of teenagers. And all around them, old ladies sat on stoops, sewing and chatting and criticizing the world.
As their cart rolled by, heads popped up and people peeked between buildings to stare at Burn and Hale, their gazes eager and curious. As newcomers, they were fresh meat, a novel source of intrigue and amusement. They were entertainment, at least for the time being, and their fates were a drama that would unfold before the masses.
Burn felt like an animal being led to the slaughter. People watched her with looks ranging from pity to hunger, lining the roads in a menacing sort of welcome. She tried not to look at them, tried to keep her eyes and her thoughts on the task at hand, but their murmurs and jeers were difficult to ignore.
They soon arrived at the end of the road. Looking up, Burn saw a long, low building stretching out in front of her, its surface carved with intricate designs that almost resembled a story, although Burn couldn’t quite follow its plot.
Stopping the cart, Jez disembarked from his seat and offered a hand to Burn. She accepted it without protest and jumped lightly onto the packed dirt road, sending up a small plume of dust. He then moved toward the back of the cart, but before he could reach it, Hale sat up and leveraged himself over the side, standing menacingly over the skinny man.
So he’d only been feigning unconsciousness, after all, Burn thought, wondering what his plan was – and hoping it wouldn’t get them into even more trouble.
For the moment, though, he didn’t move or speak. Instead, he stood there, taking up space and staring at Jez as if inviting him to fight. Jez, knowing what was good for him, backed away, moving closer to Burn and the building.
“Glad to see you’re awake,” he said wi
th forced cheerfulness. “Sometimes it takes newbies a couple of days to come back around. But I can see you’re a strong one. That’s good.” His nervousness seemed to be causing him to ramble, temporarily sidetracking him from his agenda.
Once he’d recovered, he went on, “I would appreciate it if y’all would follow me inside. I know Imber will be delighted to meet you.”
Hale stared at him for a heartbeat longer, obviously weighing his options. Apparently deciding that playing nice was the best policy, he nodded at Jez, who visibly relaxed. Turning, Jez headed toward the building’s entrance. Burn moved to follow him, but Hale put a hand out to stop her. She looked up for an explanation, but Hale merely put himself between her and Jez in their informal lineup, no doubt thinking he could act as her unofficial bodyguard.
While Burn bristled at the idea that she needed protection, in this instance the gesture was reassuring. They still didn’t know what they were walking into, and as much as she hated to admit it, Hale was better equipped to take on opponents if the situation arose.
As they entered the cavelike building, the temperature around them plummeted. Gone was the glaring heat of the desert suns, which beat down mercilessly onto the sand. Now, it was as if the walls themselves had leeched the warmth from the air, creating a dry coolness that made her shiver.
Jez led them to the left and down a hallway, and Burn caught glimpses of various rooms as they walked. Desks constructed of large slabs of stone occupied most of the spaces, accentuated by elaborately carved chairs, while parchments were strewn haphazardly across the surfaces and floors. They were offices, she realized, craning her neck to see more.
They seemed simultaneously archaic and brand new, with fresh, intricately painted designs contrasting the antiquated furnishings. It felt as if an ancient civilization had been reborn and transposed into the wildlands of Kasis. It was astounding.
Since it was nearing the end of the day, most of the rooms were empty. Most, but not all. Burn, whose senses were on high alert, picked out the sound of movement from the room at the end of the hall. That’s where they must be headed, she deduced, training her eyes on the monolithic door. Behind it, someone was waiting for them, waiting to dole out their fates.
