The Wounded (The Woodlands Series)

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The Wounded (The Woodlands Series) Page 6

by Taylor, Lauren Nicolle


  “Shh,” he whispered. I pressed my ear to his chest and listened to his heartbeat, quick and drumming. Restless. “It’s not them.”

  I pulled back and looked up at his face. His eyes were new. They hadn’t seen this kind of devastation. It was horror he was holding inside, for me. I knew he was lying to make me feel better. He didn’t know any better than I did who was down there. He didn’t even know who I was looking for.

  I let him lie. Even though it didn’t feel quite right, I let him comfort me for all the times he hadn’t in the past.

  I stayed like that for a few minutes until I heard the shuffling of pushing on. We were grief stricken and desolate, a new kind of emptiness echoing out of the Hole and trying to swallow us. But that wasn’t everyone down there. We had to keep going. No one looked down. We held our gaze in front of us and held out hope that someone was waiting for us on the other side.

  I missed Rash. I didn’t want my father’s help or comfort. I wanted someone here with me who understood me. Who knew, even without me really telling him, what I had been through. To me, Pelo was a half, even less, a tiny thought of what he once was in my life. Joseph and Orry kept me going, kept me planting each foot down in the path of ash. I watched my footprint, slowly blowing away like it was never there. If anyone was going to get out, it would be Joseph. Then dark dread crept over me because I knew Joseph was also the kind of person who would stay and fight.

  There was nothing to do but keep pressing on. The light dimmed and the wind snapped, iced teeth tearing at any exposed skin. It swirled around the base of the crater and brought the smells of the dead towards us in a foul, cold bouquet.

  Ahead, Matthew turned and motioned with his hands to pull away from the edge again. I was relieved. The raw, torn edges of the ripped-up road and eaten-up buildings resembled my crumbling nerves. We were all clinging to the edges of our sanity like ants to the corner of a leaf. I needed to get away before I felt compelled to give up and dive over it. I needed to hear Matthew’s voice, hear something alive, human. The howling wind was like a thousand voices, as if the dead were clawing their way back up. I followed him quickly, imagining hands were about to grab my legs and pull me under.

  *****

  We dipped under the torn bridge towards a narrow alley, where two buildings supported each other, forming an apex. The wind suddenly ceased its screaming. Thick, green vines snaked up the walls and through the windows, slowly reclaiming, like lazy worms, pulling the buildings to the earth. I had no doubt they would eventually get their way.

  We caught up and huddled around Matthew, rolling and knocking against each other like aimless marbles. He dusted his hands off, painting his pants with black streaks. Pulling off his mask left a wide, black, drawn-on smile around his mouth like a clown, where the dust had collected in the meeting between mask and skin. We all did the same. “Does anyone suffer from claustrophobia, a fear of small spaces? Although I probably should have asked you this before we left…” he said in a worn, cracked voice. The other Survivor had been here before. His question was aimed at Pelo and me.

  I hugged my body tight. “I don’t think I’m going to like where you’re going with this, am I?”

  Frederick, the man who had identified his daughter, Hana, as one of the dead, stepped forward, his ash-stained face striped from tears. “I’ll help you, little rabbit,” he said kindly. I liked his rumbling voice, comforting in this ridiculously unfamiliar situation.

  I tipped my head up. He was a hulking man, tanned, with grey-tinged sideburns that grazed his jawline and exaggerated its already large size. His grey eyes were wet, and he kept wiping his nose with his sleeve.

  “You don’t have to do that,” I whispered, touching his arm. He had enough to worry about.

  He wiped his nose again and stood up straight. “It’ll give me something to concentrate on.” He extended his leathery paw. “Take my hand.”

  I put the thought of snot out of my head and grabbed his hand, seeing a slight slump in Pelo’s posture as I did.

  Matthew stood with his hands on his hips, pausing while he searched the ground. He was mustering courage or preparing himself, I wasn’t sure which. Finally, he spoke, “We need to climb up into that car park.”

  I raised my eyebrows. Pelo asked before I could. “Car park?”

  Matthew nodded, and I saw a tiny smile that was quickly replaced with seriousness. He pointed to a sandwich of thick concrete slabs, haphazardly sitting on top of each other. “See that? People used to park their cars in these buildings for the day while they worked, shopped, or whatever.”

  Pelo scratched his chin in puzzlement. I knew he was thinking the same thing as me. The mind boggled at the idea that there were so many cars in the world that they had huge buildings to put them in. In Pau, I had only seen one electric van in my whole life. That and the garbage trucks were the only wheeled transportation I’d ever been privy to.

  We walked to the end of the alley until it was so narrow we had to walk single file. I kept a hold of Frederick’s hand. He ducked under the metal bars and beams that jutted out overhead and warned me about piles of broken glass. We came to a dead end, and Matthew pointed up. A concrete slab had been torn in half, leaving the iron bars set inside it exposed. The Survivors had fashioned a crude ladder out of the bars. I hesitated, because at the top of this ladder was a black slant of an opening barely high enough for a body lying flat, and I knew Matthew was going to tell me we had to go in there.

  Frederick squeezed my hand. “If I can fit, then you’ll be fine, little rabbit,” he said. I frowned and mused that yes, if I were a rabbit, I would fit. I had my doubts about a full-grown Rosa squishing her way through there. I watched Matthew climb up, grip his hands on the top edge of the opening, and arrange himself so his feet were pointing into the darkness. He held his torch between his teeth, gave me one last look of concern, and disappeared.

  The others followed, including Pelo, who shot up the ladder and into the dark like a thin-armed monkey before I could blink. I heard scraping and grunts, saw the occasional flick of light as someone’s torch swung back towards the opening. I hung back, determined to be last. Frederick bumped into my back and urged me forward.

  I bit my lip and started climbing.

  “You go first, and I’ll shine the torch ahead of you. Don’t worry, I’ve been down before. I’ll direct you,” Frederick said.

  I nodded slowly and swung my feet so that they were pointing down the incline and into the dark. Everyone was too far in front of me. All I could see was a triangle of light at the bottom of what seemed to be an ever-constricting crack between two concrete slabs.

  The bulky man slid in next to me and whispered, “Go.”

  The only thought that came to mind when he said ‘go’ was ‘no’. But I didn’t have a choice. I shimmied downwards, the back of my shirt lifting, exposing my skin to the cold concrete, a hundred little scratches roughing up my skin. I thought I might just slide down swiftly and then wedge at the bottom, but the concrete was coarse. I had to wiggle my hips and use my hands to push off the concrete above me to get any downward movement at all.

  With my fingers pressed to the ceiling, I imagined Joseph doing this with Orry on his front. I stopped breathing. I could see my little boy’s forehead dragging across the ceiling. I could hear his cries getting swallowed up by the cold dark. He would see nothing, his only comfort the steady heartbeat in his father chest as they scrambled down.

  The slabs were getting closer together. I couldn’t get my arms above my head any more. I had to put them at my sides and wiggle like a snake. I stopped, listening for other voices. I could hear Matthew and Pelo; they sounded close.

  “Rosa, are you there? Turn right when you get to the end and crawl through the pipe,” I heard my father say. I rolled my eyes. A pipe. Of course.

  Frederick’s boot tapped my head not so gently. “You all right?” he asked.

  “Uhuh,” I managed as my head rattled from the tapping. I moved faste
r. My breath quickened. I needed to get out of this place. The thought of being crushed was overwhelming me, and I started to panic. I shimmied down until my boots hit the end. I looked right but could see no pipe. Light was coming from somewhere, but I couldn’t find the source. My heart was hammering in my chest. Did we take a wrong turn? My hands searched frantically around for an opening to the right, and I cut my finger on a piece of jagged iron.

  “Damn it.” I put my finger in my mouth, tasting metallic blood.

  Torchlight skimmed my hands. “Look up,” he said calmly.

  I looked up and to my right and, sure enough, there was a round opening. I heaved myself up and into it, scurrying along the pipe on my hands and knees like I was being chased. I fell out of the end abruptly, landing on the men who were waiting to catch me.

  Pelo laughed in a short, stressed kind of way.

  They righted me like a toppled bottle and then Frederick came out, landing on his feet with a thump. He smiled at me gently and then turned to the others. We were clustered at one end of a brick corridor, which was scrawled with angry black characters I couldn’t read. Everyone stared nervously at a shining, steel door. It was solid and ominous. It held every possibility to the point where I didn’t really want to open it.

  Matthew sighed. “If anyone made it, they’ll be in there.”

  We all breathed in, didn’t breath out, and walked together.

  Silence can be a good thing…it lulls you to sleep, it calms a sore head. It could be welcome and warm. But this silence was a compound of fear and panic. It was thick and desperate. We perched like birds on a thin branch, three feet from the door, and listened for sounds of life. Nothing but stale, thin air seeped out from the gap at the bottom.

  Matthew had his head in his hands, worrying them back and forth like he could erase it. I grabbed the handle and felt it give easily under my shaking hand. It squeaked long and loud, and then I heard the most beautiful sound in the world. A cry.

  Pelo’s eyes were alight and eager. “Is that your…?”

  I paused, my hand still gripping the steel handle tightly. My relief was mixed with sadness. I knew Orry’s cry. I knew what each cry meant. Hungry, tired, frightened. I shook my head. “No. That’s Hessa.”

  I opened the door, and the screaming filled the space, echoing through what felt like a vast cavern. It was dark and could have been a room or a stadium for all I knew. But I could smell bodies, breath, and warmth pressed against warmth. Shoes shuffled. The smells of wool and rubber sneakers crisscrossed the silence.

  “It’s us,” Matthew yelled fervently. “It’s Matthew. We’re here. We made it.” His voice drained out at the end. I knew how he felt. We were sapped. Anything good and sweet drained from our bodies.

  Lights clicked on, flickering and revealing snapshots of joyful chaos. Everyone was talking, crying, and laughing. People crowded around me like flies to honey. It was obvious they were desperate for good news. They peppered me with questions until I wanted to sneeze.

  As the press of bodies and noise settled, the lights over us set the next one off until the whole space was bathed in cold, white light. Now I could see where we were. They were all here, thousands of people, dirty mouths finally breathed out after days of holding it in.

  The space was divided into rectangles. Families had claimed these painted sections, squatting down, tending to small pots of food being heated on battery-operated hot plates. One man quietly stacked and un-stacked tinned food into various versions of pyramids. I frowned. There was only one word for this, a sad, lonely word—loss.

  I felt it too. My eyes scanned the swarm of people, looking for Joseph or Orry. I could still hear Hessa screaming, his voice hoarse and ragged. He sounded distressed. Inconsolable.

  But I couldn’t think of Hessa now, not yet. I turned to the door. I thought, If he’s not here, I’m going to go and find him. I imagined Joseph and Orry wrapped in an ashy blanket at the bottom of the crater and felt bile rise in my throat.

  Bile that was nearly squeezed out of me as I was lifted off the ground.

  *****

  I was held up above the crowd. My eyes snatched a glimpse of Orry cradled in Odval’s arms. A deep pressure in my chest released, and I could finally breathe without the deep splinters of worry poking my lungs. The arms around me spun my body to face their owner’s. I smiled, feeling weightless in my relief. I wrapped my arms around Joseph’s neck and sunk into his embrace. It felt like a year had passed since I had seen him. A year since I’d left him.

  His hands pressed into my back and pulled me closer. My hair flapped over his face. I felt him breathing me in as I was doing him, savoring the moment. I knew it couldn’t last. I knew he’d be angry with me. My body tensed at the thought of it, bracing. And just as I expected, he dropped me to the ground like a hot coal.

  But he didn’t let go of me, and I wrapped my strength around that thought. He put his hands on my waist and stared at me with such intensity that I recoiled. He was angry. I knew it. I opened my mouth to apologize, but nothing came out. All I could do was stare at his beautiful face, his glowing eyes.

  He looked sad, and something burned behind his eyes I didn’t quite understand. I felt singed under his gaze. His voice grumbled, almost a growl. “I don’t care what you say. I don’t care if I’m as loud a hundred elephants stomping behind you. Wherever you go, I’m going with you.”

  I took a step back. Confused. He was angry. He was supposed to be. He should be punishing me. And maybe that’s what I would have done. But he was different. He was better.

  I leaned back on one leg and pounced at him. He lifted me up, and I felt that chuckle, that deep rumble in his chest there to cure me. I put my lips to his ear and whispered, “Ok.” The built-up fear and loneliness I had been feeling these past weeks toppled down, leaving me exposed, naked, and suddenly clear. I let it go and with it, any composure I thought I’d managed to hold onto. I erupted into sobs. “Take me to my son,” I managed in between tears and quick breathing.

  *****

  Seeing Orry again felt like my body snapping back into place, like the rib that was broken found its rough end and fused back together smoothly with the others. Odval handed him to me gently, pressing him into my chest like a puzzle piece. I sat down on the oily concrete floor and let him fit.

  I held him close and pressed my nose to his head. He smelled the same. His soft hair tickled my skin, and joy surged through me. Everything that I had, everything that I was clutching onto, didn’t seem to matter. He was safe. Joseph was safe. I sighed in relief, feeling the ghosts catch and snag on the outtake.

  I ran my hands gently over Orry’s little brow; he smiled up at me like no time had passed. “Where’s Hessa, Deshi, and the others? I want to see them. Deshi’s going to want to hear how well his key contraptions worked,” I said, looking up at Joseph, who stood over us, his hand resting gently on my shoulder.

  He dipped his head. I watched him hold his breath, his eyebrows pulled together, and then he ran one hand through his hair. I knew that motion. It meant he was upset. His grip tightened on my shoulder.

  “Let me show you where we’re sleeping,” he said, tightly. He was avoiding my question, but I stood and took his hand. He led me away from the crowd towards one of the painted rectangles.

  Orry’s carrier lay in one corner half-covering a dark grey oil stain, as did a rolled-up blanket and jacket. “It’s not much, but it has to be home for now,” Joseph said in a strained tone. “At least… now that you’re here,” he muttered, blushing a little.

  He sat down cross-legged on a square of blanket and motioned for me to sit as well. In the distance, I could still hear Hessa screaming, but it had changed to an exhausted whoop and bark.

  I sat Orry up in my lap and wrapped one arm around his stomach. The other still held onto Joseph.

  “Wh… what’s going on?” I stammered. Everything was whirling like chopper blades, bodies and soldiers, dead tigers and Hessa’s screams churned around me
. “Where’s Deshi?” I asked in weak anger. “He’d never let Hessa scream like that. Joseph,” I pleaded. “What happened to him?” I knew something had. I could see it in Joseph’s eyes, and hear it in Hessa’s screams.

  “Alexei’s trying with Hessa but… he’s struggling too,” Joseph muttered. My eyes filled preemptively with tears. It was too hard, too sad. “Rosa, Deshi was one of the first to get here. The elders were the slowest. Some of us stayed with them, tried to help them across the crater, but then the soldiers opened fire.” He looked down at the ground, his hand dropping out of my grasp. He put his finger to Orry’s hand and let the baby hold it. “They demanded Deshi come out of hiding, or they would keep firing.” His eyes burned into mine. So much pain. “Rosa, it was the worst thing I’ve ever seen. The people, the bodies sliding down the cliff…” He put his hand to his throat, stroking the golden stubble. “Apella refused to leave the hospital. I don’t even know if she hid, but they caught her. We could hear her screaming at Deshi not to come out, but they just kept shooting. He went. He had to.”

  I put my hand to my chest. Everything was opening up again, and I was raw.

  “Apella?” I squeaked. Air was not coming in.

  “They waited until they had Deshi in custody, and then they threw her into the Hole.” Joseph rubbed his forearms, and I noticed gashes and scratches. “I had to hold Alexei down to stop him from going after her,” he said with a pained smile. “He’s strong when he puts his mind to it.”

  I gulped, trying not to let it drown me, because Joseph needed me more right now. “You did the right thing,” I said. “Is she...?”

  He shook his head, his blond curls tapping on the sides of his head, wishing him down from the bad dream he was stuck in. “I don’t know. I mean she’d have to be, right? She wouldn’t be able to climb out of there on her own.” He clapped his hands on either side of his head, and his whole body slumped. “Oh Jesus, Rosa, she probably drowned in ash.”

 

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