by Sara V. Zook
Racing toward the noise, my heart pumped so fast it was as if I could feel it pulsating up into my ears. I felt ill as I made my way around a shelf and stopped dead.
In the corner of the tent lay Jo. A very burly, muscular contributor towered over her, a steel pipe clenched in his hands. I immediately wondered why Jo wasn’t running. I knew she wanted to get caught, but this man was going to kill her.
“Jo.” The word got caught in my throat and came out as a choked whisper.
Then the realization that she must be injured entered my mind. The contributor must have already hit her with the pipe. That was the only logical reason for her to still be in the position she was in.
A flash of movement caught my attention. Within seconds, Rooney was on the back of the contributor. He wrapped his thin arms around the thick neck of the contributor. He squeezed. The arms of the man flailed in the air helplessly by the surprise attack. Jo still lay on the floor of the tent propped up on her elbows now, her face aghast as she watched Rooney attempt to battle the strong man.
Do something, I thought. Why couldn’t I move? Jo said this was a peaceful contributor group, yet here was this horrific fight going on before my eyes, and I stood paralyzed, the coward I was.
The contributor’s face was beginning to turn red. Maybe Rooney could pull this off and take him down. Suddenly the contributor violently bent forward. Rooney was thrown from the man’s back, landing on the floor of the tent with a hard thud. He laid motionless for a moment, stunned from the traumatic fall. The brawny man rushed over to Rooney and swung his arms backwards, the steel pipe raised high in the air.
“No!” I heard someone behind me yell out.
It was too late. The steel pipe came down forcefully. It collided with the bone of Rooney’s skull, crushing it to pieces.
I covered my mouth in horror. Rooney’s leg twitched momentarily and then … nothing. I heard Jo cry out and cover her eyes from the gruesome sight of her best friend’s head being brutally beaten in by a supposedly peaceful medical contributor. I collapsed to my knees, my eyes still locked on Rooney as if what I had just seen hadn’t really happened, as if he would suddenly come back to life and jump up ready to battle again.
More contributors entered the tent. A woman hurried over to the man with the bloody pipe still locked in his hand as he angrily gazed down at the Scave he had just ripped the life from.
“Put it down,” the woman cried, reached out for the weapon and taking it from him. “Leave them alone.”
He turned around and gave her a hard glare. Then he stomped away and exited the tent. A younger male walked over to Rooney and gazed down upon him. He put his hands up in the air and looked at the woman who wiped tears away from her cheeks before turning around to tend to Jo. Jo began to fight the woman who knelt at her side trying to examine her legs. She flung her arms wildly in the air trying to get the woman away.
“It’s okay, child,” the woman said in a soothing manner. “I won’t hurt you. It’s okay. Please, child.”
I struggled to get to my feet again. I didn’t even know if I had the strength to walk. I took two steps toward Jo before someone grabbed my arms and held them behind my back.
“Where do you think you’re going?” someone whispered to me.
I glanced back into the face of yet another contributor who now bound my hands with rope.
“Pick her up,” he instructed someone else, gesturing toward Jo.
“She’s hurt,” the woman said next to her. “I think her leg’s broken. Don’t harm either one of them.”
“I won’t,” he promised. “But royalty has already been contacted. They will be leaving soon. You can tend to her once she’s properly tied and can’t get away.”
“Why did you call them?” the woman asked angrily, pulling on the skirt of her dress as she stood up to face him.
“You would rather they be set free?” he asked.
“That’s right, I would,” she replied.
He chuckled. “You would say something like that. You’re a softy for the Scaves, even after they’ve tried to steal from us yet again.”
“Their people get sick, too,” she reminded him.
“They are hardly people,” he replied.
The woman gave him another hard glare.
I tried to move my hands behind my back. Any movement made the rope dig into my skin deeper. I was forced to walk out of the tent as I glanced behind and saw them restraining Jo. Once outside, I stared up at the red sky before me. It was as if I were in the middle of a maze. It was so frustrating to be stuck here. My stomach churned from the image of Rooney’s deformed, broken face as it popped in my mind at that instant, and I bent over and dry heaved forcefully. Saliva collected at the edges of my lips as I spit again and again onto the ground. When I stood up straight again, Jo was beside me maintaining her balance on one foot. Blood dripped down the other leg, a gash below the knee. She didn’t make eye contact with me, and I didn’t know what to say, so I kept my mouth shut.
The contributor woman who had been inside the tent came out with an armful of things. She stood in front of Jo and commanded her to sit on the ground.
“Just leave it be,” Jo snapped as the woman hurried to begin fixing Jo’s wound.
“Now don’t be foolish.” She poured something onto the wound, and Jo cringed from the sting. “That’s a good girl. This will clean it out. We need to stop the bleeding fast.”
The flap of the tent wall opened from behind and out came another contributor, Rooney’s limp body in his arms. He tossed it carelessly down onto the ground beside Jo.
“Why did you do that?” the woman asked him in anger. “Get him out of here.”
The contributor ignored her and kept walking.
I got a good look at Rooney now. I hated myself for looking and felt the muscles within my stomach clench once more.
Jo carefully took Rooney’s hand in hers and held onto it.
The contributor woman sighed as she continued to clean up Jo’s leg. “I’m sorry that happened to your friend there, child. I’m sorry that this has happened to your life.”
Jo stared up at her for a brief moment, tears threatening to spill. She released Rooney’s hand and turned away from him then, a sudden stubbornness coming over her as she refused to cry.
“Jo, I …” I began to whisper. What was I going to say to her? What could I say? Rooney’s blood was now on my hands. She had her leg gashed open because of me. This plan had turned into disaster, a life lost, and it had been all for me. I felt overwhelmed as if I no longer had an ounce of strength left in me to be able to face this place anymore. This was just too much to handle. I needed to give up and stay away from Jo before she ended up in the same position as Rooney. My heavy eyelids closed.
“They’re here,” someone said.
My eyes fluttered back open. A group of contributors hovered nearby, staring and speaking about us as if we weren’t even there.
“What would you have us do?” one of the contributors asked a man who stood the closest to me.
Our eyes met. He was well-dressed in silky white pants and a matching shirt with a gold-colored collar. His eyes left my face as he now looked to the lifeless body by my side. He sighed and put both hands on his hips. “Dispose of that body,” he instructed them. “Are they contained?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.” He turned his back to us. “Get them some water and put them in the wagon.” He then made his way through the people and disappeared into the crowd.
Two men hurried forward. One took hold of Rooney’s arms, the other his legs. I turned my face so I wouldn’t be able to get a glimpse of his crushed skull. Then a boy brought a cup of water and held it to my lips. It was cold and refreshing as it trickled down my throat. I felt better for the moment. I drank the entire thing, and then he ran off to get another cup full for Jo. We were pulled to our feet and I clumsily stumbled toward some sort of vehicle up ahead. Once inside, I sat
down and leaned my head against the side of the wall of the wagon. Jo was across from me, and some more well-dressed contributors positioned themselves nearby to keep an eye on us. I felt the wagon lurch forward. I felt Jo’s eyes on me, but I was too tired to be able to fight the exhaustion any longer. We were now captives, likely off to the castle. Their plan had been a success, yet we had lost Rooney in the process. The wetness of tears spilled onto my eyelashes. Then my eyes closed, and I finally slept. When I woke up, I knew we’d be at the castle.
Chapter 7
“Jo?” I whispered in the dark.
There was no reply.
“Jo!” I hissed a little louder.
“I’m here,” her meek voice said nearby.
It was pitch black as I sat up on the cold, hard floor. I put both arms up and tried to search around. There was nothing.
“Did we make it?” I asked.
“To the castle?” Jo said. “Yes. You’ve been sleeping.”
I had slept through the entire trip to the castle along with them bringing me in here.
“We’re in a dungeon,” Jo added.
I cringed at the word. It made me feel even more worthless than I had before. I clenched my hand into a fist and then extended out my fingers. My joints were so sore. “How long have we been here?”
“Not long. A few hours at most,” she answered. “I feel like we’re waiting for something. I don’t know.”
I rubbed my temples as the beginning of a headache was forming.
“What are you going to do?” Jo whispered.
It was up to me to get us out. I had to say something to the very next person that came in here. I had to be bold and tell them I was a human and that my being here was a mistake. I had to convince the royalty to somehow accept Jo also. This was going to get messy, I could feel it. It seemed that everyone here loathed humans just as much as Scaves.
A hint of light began to fill the room little by little as a heavy door opened on the opposite wall. I threw my hand in front of my eyes as they adjusted. Jo scampered across the floor and huddled near my side nearly knocking me backwards.
“Over here, your majesty.”
“Where?”
“There. What would you have us do with them?”
“How many Scaves did you say?”
“Two, your majesty.”
“I really don’t know what to do …”
“Get up,” someone commanded.
I unshielded my eyes and stood, leaning over and offering a hand to help Jo stand also. She took my hand, and we walked over to the thick bars before us. I had to squint to focus on the two people within arm’s reach on the other side of the bars. I could make out the form of a male contributor similarly dressed to those who had picked us up and hauled us here. Then out of the shadows another person stepped into sight. All fatigue instantly fled from my veins as I covered my mouth and gasped.
“Anna?”
“What …” I stuttered.
Jo let go of my hand. I could feel her eyes giving me a questioning look.
I grabbed hold of the bars with both hands and pressed my face against it. “Is it really you?” Before me stood Emry dressed in a red gown, a white cloak on his back. He seemed equally as shocked to see me.
“Let her go. Now,” Emry said in a very commanding tone.
The man at his side hesitated. “Your majesty?”
Emry’s face burned as his temper flared. “Are you deaf? Let her out.”
The man fumbled with his keys. His hand trembled as he finally found the correct one and unlocked the steel door. The moment he opened it, I rushed past him and practically leapt into Emry’s arms. He stumbled backwards happily as I wrapped my arms around his neck.
“Anna! How in the world …?” He wrapped his arms around me as well and twirled me in a circle. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“Me, too,” I whispered, tears threatening the edges of my eyelids. “Me, too.”
Horrified by our sudden bonding, the contributor’s face drained of all color. He just stood there for a few moments before shutting the barred door again.
Emry gave the man another glare before returning his attention to me. He placed me in front of him and put his hands to my face. His eyes became gentle as he looked me over. “What’s happened to you? Are you all right?”
“You have no idea what I’ve been through. I never thought I’d see your beautiful face again.” My brain hummed with all kinds of things I wanted, needed to say to Emry this very second. The adrenaline pulsated through me. This was just so unexpected. I thought I’d never experience this kind of joy again. Here he was, standing right in front of me. We were together again. I knew I’d be safe. My worries had vanished. The feeling was surreal.
“Come,” Emry said, turning me toward the door that led out of the dungeon. He placed a hand on my back as he looked over his shoulder at the contributor. “Let’s get out of here and go talk.”
I nodded and glanced backwards. Little Jo was still standing there, face pressed against the bars, dumbfounded by what she was seeing. “Wait.”
Emry gave me a puzzled look.
“That’s Jo,” I told him motioning toward the dungeon. “She’s my friend. You have to let her out. I can’t leave her here.”
He hesitated for a moment, his eyes meeting the horrified look of the contributor.
“Emry, please,” I pleaded. “She’s the only reason I’m here. Without her, I’d be dead.”
“Get her out of there, too,” Emry instructed the contributor.
Jo grinned as she stepped away from the restraint of the dungeon and hurried to cling onto my arm, her eyes shifting curiously to Emry.
Emry led us up the stairs from the dark dungeon and into the brightly lit magnificent castle. The floors, walls and ceilings were all made from cement with handcrafted designs of art etched into it. It was lined with luxurious, colorful furniture. I tried to take it all in, but my mind was still processing that Emry was here. He had no hesitation of where he was going as we walked up a shining spiral staircase with a very unique twisted rope railing. He turned abruptly into the first room on the right at the top of the stairs and pulled me in with him. The contributor had followed. Emry raised his eyebrows at him as he got ready to shut the door.
“But your majesty,” the contributor said. “They’re Scaves.”
“No,” Emry replied. “She’s not.” He slammed the door shut and turned to face me.
We were in some sort of study. The walls were lined with books and decorative paintings. Jo wandered about the room in amazement. Emry sat me down on a couch with velvety blue cushions. The sudden comfort felt heavenly. I put my head on Emry’s shoulder and began to weep. I couldn’t help it. I had felt as if I had been forced to be strong and keep all of my emotions inside all this time, and with Emry, my walls came tumbling down. I just hadn’t expected such a happy ending to all of this Evadere madness. Emry lifted my head from his shoulder and stared into my soggy eyes. His own eyes held concern and a fierce anger.
I forced a smile. “Your majesty?” A chuckle escaped from my throat.
Emry smirked. “You don’t know, do you?”
I shook my head. “All I know is that our once paradise Evadere is a place of pure hell.”
“What?” He studied me for a moment longer. “I thought you were back on Earth. I thought you knew I was here and what was going on.”
“Why would you think that?” I asked, now realizing he had never been worried about me. He hadn’t even searched for me. “You left me on the beach. I thought you had gone back to Earth without me.”
His eyebrows got lower. “My mother sent for me. She said you were safe and that everything had been explained to you.”
“Your mother?”
He nodded. “My mother, the queen.”
I gasped. “Queen Atavia?”
Jo glanced back from the news, concern filling her scared eyes. Then she continued to walk around, running her hands over top of a s
tatue in the corner.
“You know her?” he asked.
“Only what the Scaves have said,” I answered.
“How did you end up with the Scaves? How did you end up here?” His temper was flaring again.
I took a deep breath. “You left me on the beach,” I repeated. “I couldn’t transport myself back to Earth.” I didn’t want to explain. I wanted to know exactly what was going on here with him. “You’re a prince?”
“I’m going to be king,” he said sticking his chest out a little as he did so.
“Well, now I guess we know why you can transport. Only royalty can do that, right?”
“I thought you didn’t know anything,” he said.
I rolled my eyes and grinned. “I’ve been all over this planet trying to survive, trying to find a way back to Earth, back to you.”
“Are you hurt?”
“Not physically. Maybe a little emotionally from what I’ve witnessed the last few days. Did your mother explain to you what’s going on out there with the contributors versus the Scaves?”
“They’re dangerous,” Emry quickly said.
“The Scaves?” I met eyes with Jo again who kept her distance and just listened.
He nodded.
“Only Karn.”
“You know about Karn?”
“Oh, yes,” I told him. “I’ve met Karn.”
“What?” He took hold of both of my hands as if he were never letting go again.
“He’s mean, yes, but only because this world has warped him into becoming this gruesome beast who has had to survive without nothing his entire life.”
“Anna, you don’t know what you’re saying. The Scaves are a horrible people. They’re trying to kill me. They want rid of the blood line,” Emry tried to explain.
I ran my fingers through his brown hair and traced the outline of his distinct jaw. “I was a Scave for a few days, Emry, and I couldn’t imagine how terrible it must be to actually live as one for an entire lifetime.”
He opened his mouth to interject but decided against it. “I’m so sorry you’ve been through all this. I swear I had no idea.”
