Disorder

by Martha Adele

  “What?” I scoff. “Cat beast?”

  “Oh, there was this big cat thing that was chasing me earlier. It was a lot taller than me and a lot longer too. Anyways”—Sam shakes his head and changes the topic back to the wall—“I shouted and screamed for help, but there was no answer. The beast had me trapped, and somehow I got away—only to be trapped again, that time by briars. That’s what caused this.” Sam holds up his torn-apart arm, the same arm with the wounds I noticed last night.

  He continues, “Just when I thought I was a goner, bullets came hailing out of the sky, scaring the cat away and forcing me to flee, even if it meant having my arm torn to bits. I wasn’t that far away from the wall when the bullets were shot, so I assume that the wall security were the people responsible for the firing.”

  Logan stares wide-eyed at the leaves surrounding us, seemingly putting the pieces together.

  I don’t know what to say other than “I’m not surprised,” which somehow finds its way out of my mouth.

  I don’t know exactly what I meant. Bloot had always been hated by Bestellen. If any of our citizens were found near the open wall, they would be shot on sight. Lucky for us, most of Bloot is overgrown by jungle—trees, weed, vines, and a lot of wildlife. The deeper you went into the woods, the stranger things seemed to get. The animal prints would grow larger the farther you went in; and the trees and foliage became larger, tougher, and rougher. I guess that’s why these trees outside the wall are so rough; it’s because of their placement. The closer the plants are to Metropolis, the smoother they are.

  Due to Metropolis’s neglect of Bloot, there are not many officials in the unpopulated provinces of Bloot. All of the officials are sent to keep an eye on the sweatshops and neighborhoods, none to really cover the woods.

  No one I have ever met has made it to see the wall through the woods. I assume it is covered by vines and hidden by trees and other foliage. I have only ever been about ten miles into the woods, and I usually only ever went with one person—Derek Page, my best friend. Other than my uncle Randy, my mother’s brother, Derek is the only person I have ever trusted enough to talk to about … things. Whenever we needed to escape everyday life in Bloot, we would manage to get past the officials and make our way into the woods.

  We had a shared favorite spot. It was a large tree, just like the one I clung to last night during the rats’ attack. We would go there and hide in the branches, listen to the sounds of nature, and talk about anything and everything.

  As peaceful as it sounds, we often spent our time together hunting for food. Neither of our families made a lot of money, so we were the main providers. Derek started providing for his family by hunting at the age of thirteen. He is twenty now and a transporter. He gets “the privilege to take supplies from one sweatshop to another,” or at least that’s how he describes it. His job doesn’t pay but maybe ten credits a week. At the most, that could buy a sack of potatoes and a loaf of bread, which isn’t a lot.

  Derek took me in when he was fifteen after he caught me following him one day. We crept into the woods, and I watched him fix a few snares along the way. Snares that I wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t seen him playing with them.

  I followed him, making sure never to step onto a twig or leaf or anything that would crunch under pressure. Snare by snare, we went farther into the woods. About twenty traps in, Derek finally found a snare that had caught his next meal. I watched from behind a tree as the scrawny red-haired boy lifted up a small brown rabbit about half the size of those rats from last night.

  I leaned forward a bit to try to get a better look, but my hair had gotten caught on one of the small twigs protruding from the trunk of the tree, which caused a large snapping noise as my hair yanked it from its base. Derek jerked his head back and looked around as I hid behind the tree trunk.

  “I saw you!” he called out to me. “I hope you know that!”

  I sighed and pulled the twig out of my hair. Walking out from behind the tree, I broke the twig in two and hesitantly made my way to him. “You wouldn’t have if it wasn’t for this stupid stick.”

  Our eyes met for the first time. Slightly squinted, his eye color was one I had never seen before. His irises had navy barriers while his pupils had almost a boysenberry color radiating from them, changing into a sapphire blue as they migrated out. His bright-colored eyes caused his pale skin to be even paler, and his freckles and acne too seemed to be the same color as his hair. I broke our gaze and looked back down to the rabbit.

  I didn’t know exactly what to say, so I said the first thing that popped into my head. I pointed down at the rabbit he was holding and stated the obvious. “You caught one.”

  Derek’s smile grew just as his dimples did. Both Derek’s and Logan’s dimples are the type that run up their face, not just resting in one spot. Derek’s seem a little smaller than Logan’s, though.

  “Yeah,” Derek laughed at my statement. “I did. I was beginning to think I wouldn’t get one today.”

  I smiled back at him.

  He took the rabbit out of the noose and fixed the snare. “So is this the first time you’ve followed me out here?”

  I nodded.

  “Hmm … Okay.” He grabbed the hare by the ears and started walking farther into the woods. “Were you planning on coming back out here and stealing my game?”

  I followed. “No.” I had seen him go into the woods for that last year and never followed. That day, I really needed to get out of the house, so I went and hung out in the outer rims of the woods. I watched Derek sneak into the woods and finally decided to see what he was doing.

  “Then what was your plan?” he asked me.

  I shrugged. Derek couldn’t see me shrug because he was in front of me, so I answered, “I don’t know. I guess the plan was to finally see where you sneak off to.”

  He stopped in his tracks in front of me and slowly turned around to reveal his squinty smile. “You’ve been watching me?”

  I shrugged again; this time, he took notice. I could feel my face getting hotter as I realized how embarrassing that sounded. “Not in a creepy way!” I claimed.

  Derek nodded at me and chuckled, “Yeah, okay, Mavis.”

  Before that day, we had never officially met; so when he said my name, my skin crawled. We got to talking as we walked through the woods resetting his snares and grabbing the few rabbits he caught. He introduced himself and told me that he knew me because his mom knew my mom and that his mom used to talk about how sad it was when my mom and brother died. Derek said that he kept meaning to come over and ask if he could help with anything but was always too scared of my dad, for which I don’t blame him.

  That day, Derek gave me one of his rabbits and told me to meet him out here after school the next day. I did. Ever since then, we have been best friends. He knew that I was assigned to the military, so I doubt he is worried about where I am. He probably just thinks that I am in training or already on assignment or something. I don’t really know, but right now, talking to him is one of the main things I want to do.

  Sam, Logan, and I climb down from the tree and start walking. Logan, still holding his staff, and Sam, still somewhat twitchy. We walk and walk for hours, trying to stay quiet. We creep around without many words said. Every now and then, we sit to take a break and talk about how thirsty and hungry we are.

  I crawl up a tree and peek my head out of the leaves. We seem to be slightly closer to the mountains, but they still feel too far away to reach by tonight. I climb down to tell the boys that according to the position of the sun, it is about 6:00 p.m. and that we should probably search for food.

  “Wait,” Sam says loudly, earning a finger to the lips from both Logan and me. Sam’s shoulders rise, and he puts his hands up, mouthing “Sorry.” He looks around and walks over to us. “You mean neither of you have been looking for food? That’s what I’ve been doing this whole time
!”

  Logan and I chuckle. I reassure Sam that we have been looking for food as we walked, but that wasn’t our main goal. Water was. “How about this?” I suggest. “I will go and make a box trap, and you guys can look around a bit for some berries or something to bait the trap or for something we can eat.”

  Sam shrugs and scratches the back of his head. He twitches and nods back to me. “Yeah, yeah, that sounds … fine.” He squeezes his eyes closed and takes a deep breath.

  Logan and I glance at each other and back to Sam. Logan steps forward. “You okay, man?”

  Sam squeezes his lips together and opens his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” He looks back to me. “I’m just going to go look for some berries or something.”

  He turns around and storms off. I have no idea what just happened, and by the looks of it, neither does Logan. We both stare at each other for a second, not knowing what to do.

  I work up a smile. “I … um … guess I will go ahead and get started on that box trap.”

  Logan nods and smiles back. “I will keep looking. Meet back here?”

  I nod, and we part ways and search for what we need. I go straight for a tall and skinny tree with some long and extremely thin branches. I break one of the branches off and begin peeling it to see if I can use it as cordage. I can’t.

  The next idea that comes in my head is a set of briars. After breaking off decent-sized branches and forcing them to a size that fits my needs, I find a large patch of briars blocking off what looks like a path made by an animal much larger than me.

  Very carefully, I break off multiple sets of briars by pinching and bending them between the thorns, earning myself a few accidental pricks. When all is said and done, I have built a decent-sized box trap that could catch something a little smaller than those rats that tried to kill me last night. I set it up a good distance away from where Logan, Sam, and I separated because I assume that spot is where we are to meet up again. I look around for something that I can use to set the box trap and find a species of berries I am unfamiliar with, just like everything else in these woods.

  I set the trap and head back to where we all split up. I bring a few berries back with me to see if either of the boys knows if they are safe. When I make it back, the sun is almost fully hidden by the mountains, and the trees’ natural roof causes the darkness to consume my surroundings.

  A slight stir of anxiety rises in my stomach and makes its way into my head. The berries I am holding in my hands are the only things seemingly keeping me from scratching. I have noticed that ever since I have been dropped off out here that any time I am uncomfortable, nervous, or scared, I feel the need to scratch something. My arm, my leg, my head, my neck—anything that I can.

  I look around to find that neither of the boys have made it back to the tree and begin to worry even more. Should I call out for them? That would definitely attract attention of any surrounding animals, but wouldn’t it help us stay together?

  No. All it would do is cause trouble.

  I move all of the berries into one hand and climb up the tree. Once I get as high as I can, I push leaves aside and peek out of the top. I am blinded by the sun, which is now at my eye level and barely peeking over the mountains. The orange glow of the sun causes the leaves and trees surrounding me to look like an ocean of reflective surfaces that magnify the beauty of the sunset. I raise my hand with the berries, dropping a few, and try to block out some of the light that’s blinding me. I squint toward the mountains and see a picture-perfect view that looks like a million-dollar painting, just like the ones that Derek’s mother would tell me about.

  Derek’s mom was one of the people who transferred things like crops from one state to another. During her travels, she would make sure to go and peek at the paintings that decorated the head offices she had to visit. Art appreciation is something she and my mother had in common.

  The sky behind me is black, and the twinkling stars are splattered across the sky. As you turn from the darkness back to the mountains, the colors change from black to a deep purple to a rosy pink to a smooth and heavy sunset orange. The stars become less and less obvious the closer they are to the sun, causing me to be conflicted. Both views are absolutely beautiful. The skies on one side remind me of a night at home, while on the other is a view I have never seen before.

  My ogling is interrupted by a twig breaking underneath me. My heart jumps, along with the rest of my body, and causes me to drop a few more berries. My eyes follow the berries as they make their way down the tree and rain on top of Sam.

  His arms rise up, and he covers his head as he lets go of the branch he was about to use to pull himself up. “Hey!”

  I whisper back, “Sorry!”

  Sam bends down and picks up a berry off the ground. He holds it up in front of his face as if he is a buyer trying to decide if this is the real deal or not. He crawls up a few branches as I crawl down. We meet halfway, and Sam holds up the smooshed berry and gives it a surprised look. “Whoops.” He drops what was left of it and wipes his hands back and forth to erase the residue. “Do you know what kind of berries those are?”

  I open up my hand with all of the berries in it to find most of them squished. “No, I was hoping you or Logan would.”

  Sam sighs. “Well, I don’t.” He looks up and meets my eyes. “I guess we are waiting on Logan now.”

  Though our surroundings are almost pitch-black, I can still make out the color of his eyes. Their bright blue color is almost frightening in how pure it is in contrast with the darkness of his hair and the light color of his skin. They are not as complex as Derek’s, but still extremely unique.

  I smile to him. “Did you find anything?”

  He shakes his head. “I looked and looked and looked but found nothing. I did come across a bird, though. It was walking around on the ground and pecking at something that I couldn’t see. I am guessing bugs.” Sam’s eye twitches. He obviously takes notice of it because his whole body tenses, and his hand shoots up, and he begins rubbing his eye with his palm as he continues with the story. “I ran for it to see if I could grab it, and I got really close too!”

  I chuckle.

  Sam drops his hand slowly and eases a bit. He chuckles too. His eye continues to twitch, but his aggravated persona lightens. “Now that I think about it, I probably looked pretty funny running after a bird.”

  “Maybe just a little,” I confirm.

  Before either of us get to ask about Logan, he appears at the base of the tree and zips up at twice the speed that Sam and I used. When he makes it up to us, he sits on the branch underneath us and gives a deep breath.

  “Any luck?” Sam loudly whispers.

  Logan takes another deep breath and answers, “Nope. Nothing.”

  “I might have something.” I hold out the berries toward Logan, and his eyes grow two sizes.

  Logan leans in and observes the berries closer. “Are they safe?”

  His face shines with hope and somehow seems to brighten the darkness around us. I hate to be the one who tells him that we don’t know if they are safe or not, but I do. His glow slowly dies out, but his light smile lingers, like he feels the need to keep our morale up.

  I try to ease their worries by commenting, “We don’t have to eat them. We aren’t going to starve for at least a few more days.” I know this fact all too well. “We can only go three days at the most without water, but we can go a lot longer without food.”

  We all exchange a few looks, but no words. It is an unspoken agreement. I continue, “I can show you where I got these tomorrow if you decide you want them.” The dark-colored berries rain out of my hand and fall to the ground as I wipe my hands off. “We can go and check my box trap then too.”

  They both nod in agreement. We decide to go ahead and try to sleep for the night and try again in the morning. This time, we all sleep much better. One full day of w
alking can really tire a person out. That mixed with dehydration and a lack of sufficient nutrients could knock anyone out.

  We wake because of a large gust of wind that shakes all of the leaves around us. My eyes flutter open and take notice that the sun appears to have been up for at least an hour. “Crap,” I moan.

  Sam sits up, whining, and wipes his eyes. “What?”

  “Sun’s up,” Logan utters. “We’re wasting time.”

  Sam groans and settles back into his sleeping position. “If you call a good night’s sleep time wasted, I don’t want to be your friend.”

  I couldn’t help but smile at how much Sam was not a morning person. “Sam,” I chuckle, “We have to go find water and food.”

  Sam doesn’t move.

  I continue, “There might be something in my trap.”

  “Okay, you’ve convinced me.” Sam sits up and wipes his eyes again. “Sleep, bad. Food, good.”

  Logan and I chuckle as we make our way down the tree and wait for Sam to follow. Logan smiles at me and whispers, “Do you really think there might be something in your trap?”

  “I hope so.” I look back up at Sam, who was slowly but surely slinking down the branches. “Either way, it got him up, so it’s a win.”

  We all get down from the tree and take a minute or two to stretch and pop every joint that will allow it. Soon after, we head back through the woods and find my trap broken. It is crushed, as if something or someone had stepped on it. The berries that were beneath it are gone, causing me to assume that something has eaten it.

  The boys and I all come to the same conclusion that these berries must be safe to eat, so we grab a few. Hesitant to eat the still-unknown food, we put them in our pockets and keep going.

  After hours and hours of walking, Logan takes notice of the altitude change. “We are definitely getting higher.” He wheezes, trying not to seem affected.

  Sam and I both agree.

  We all keep walking and walking until we feel like we can walk no more. We decide to stop and take a break by sitting on some of the lowest-hanging branches we could find. Sam complains that his head is pounding and his stomach is turning. He claims that he can’t walk any more unless he gets some water. I look around and see that the sun is getting closer and closer to being gone for the night, and that worries me. If we don’t find water soon, I doubt any of us will make it any longer.