by Valerie Puri
Someday when you are older, you may feel the need to try and find me. Please don’t come looking for me. This is for your own protection. All I want for you is to be safe, and you will not be safe with me, not now, not ever. I don’t expect you to understand, but just know that you will always be in my heart.
With all my love,
Mother
When Jennie looked up, she saw sorrow in Ethan’s eyes. Empathy overwhelmed her, and tears came to her eyes. She tried to imagine why Marlene would leave Ethan alone in the woods where the lemerons lurked. How could the woods be safer than here within the walls of the Commune? Jennie wondered if Marlene hadn’t yet come to the Commune, but then she recalled how Marlene had been in every Commune photograph for two hundred years. Nothing made sense to her.
“My mother doesn’t want to see me. She made it very clear in her letter to me. I have read that message countless times throughout my life, and the meaning of the message is always the same. There is no other way to interpret it.”
“But she says she did it to keep you safe.”
“How is it safe out there with the lemerons? How could she possibly think that leaving a baby on the ground in the middle of the forest would be safe?” Ethan raised his voice. “She left me to die out there. She doesn’t care about me.”
Jennie reached out and touched Ethan’s hand to console him.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that.”
He took her hand in his and gently squeezed, acknowledging the gesture. A jolt of electricity shot through her arm, and she felt the fluttering again in her stomach. Ethan met her eyes, and his cheeks turned a soft pink color. Was he experiencing the same electrified touch that she was? She blushed. Jennie tipped her head down and removed her hand from his. Slightly embarrassed, yet not sure why, she tried consoling him with her words instead.
“I know what it feels like to lose your mother. Lemerons killed my mother four years ago. My brother, Travis, and I watched as they dragged her into the forest. There was nothing we could do. The last thing I remember is her crying out for us to run and to save ourselves.” Jennie paused, trying to keep her tears from spilling over. It had been years since she had cried, and she couldn’t start now, especially not in front of Ethan. “If there is anything that I can do to help, please let me know.”
“I didn’t realize that you have also suffered so much.” Ethan shook his head as if to clear away any assumptions he had about Jennie. “It was selfish of me to think that you wouldn’t understand. People usually don’t, but you seem different.”
A sheepish smile came across Jennie’s face, and she knew for certain she was blushing. The fluttering in her stomach was stronger than ever.
21
The air was cold outside, and the fog felt like icy death. It burned his esophagus and lungs as Sash inhaled the damp chill. The way the frigid air cut through his innermost organs made him feel invigorated and powerful. The air warmed inside him, and he exhaled through his mouth so he could see his breath hanging in front of him. He could manipulate how the air behaved simply by breathing.
He stood waiting in a shadowy space between two buildings that flanked the town square. The only light was from the bright moon that hung in the sky overhead. The moonlight cast long shadows all around the square in front of him. There were no sounds to be heard at that late hour, except for the distant hooting of an owl.
To Sash’s left, he saw a shadow move quickly across the far side of the square. The shadow came to a stop next to a figure that emerged from a building’s portico. He smirked. This is what he had been waiting for: a meeting between undesirables. He hated them. They were stupid enough to have a private discussion out in the open. The darkness couldn’t protect them. Sash was the darkness, and he was everywhere.
Sash backed up and turned around. He made his way through the back alleys and reached the far side of the square where the two figures stood. He heard the hushed voices of a male and female, but he couldn’t make out any words. It didn’t matter to him; he had no desire to hear what an undesirable said. At the mere thought of hearing a conversation between them, Sash spat on the ground.
He picked up a large rock and palmed it in his hand. He tossed it gently to feel its weight. It was heavy with jagged edges. He spun around the corner and lunged at the two undesirables. He swung his arm, and the rock collided with the woman’s head with a loud crack. Her scream echoed through vacant streets. Blood splattered his face and the nearby wall as she collapsed to the ground. The man ran frantically to get away from him.
Sash could outrun nearly any man – something Victor found exceptionally useful – but he permitted the other undesirable to get away. I will get you next time, he thought. He had one of them and that was enough for now. The man would tell his co-conspirators of the attack and spread the fear that Sash thrived on.
Kneeling down next to the woman, he could see she was still breathing. Blood seeped from a gash on her forehead, and pooled on the ground near her face. Pleased with his work, Sash extracted a black sack from his back pocket. He opened it and slid it over the woman’s head and cinched it closed around her neck.
Her short, thick body was as heavy as a large man, but Sash picked her up with ease. He carelessly lifted her onto his shoulder and disappeared through the alley from which he came.
22
“I think you misunderstand the meaning of discretion.” Victor yelled. He gestured with an open hand to the body that lay on the floor. “Look at her. She is making a bloody mess everywhere. We can’t just go around leaving traces of violent attacks in the street. What will happen when the sun comes up, and the people see the blood splattered everywhere?”
Sash just shrugged. Victor looked at him with disgust. “You need to think these things through. It’s bad enough you let one get away. What if word spreads about the attack?”
“I hope it does,” Sash shot back. “The undesirables will be too afraid to even look at each other, let alone plan anything.”
Victor rubbed his hand down his face in exasperation. “This will be a setback, but until I say so, no more attacks. I need you to do information gathering only.” He extracted a white handkerchief from his robes and tossed it to Sash. “Clean yourself up.”
Sash took the cloth and wiped his face. He was irritated with Victor and how he could be so narrow-minded sometimes. The Commune was overflowing with undesirables who wasted resources. The Order would give them a new purpose as dociles and bring about a new era of prosperity. Sitting around listening to these undesirables as part of “information gathering” was abhorrent to Sash. His face screwed up in disgust as he thought about it.
“Since the day I met you when you were still a boy, I have always thought of you as the son I never had,” Victor walked to the window. His voice had recovered its calm quality. “You know that I would never have you do anything which didn’t benefit the Order and our goal. This may not be the approach you want to take, but we must think of the big picture. Nothing like this has ever been attempted, and we must be secretive. The people cannot begin to suspect anything, or else our work will be in jeopardy.” Victor turned to face Sash. “Patience is our ally.”
Sash sighed. He hated waiting. He wanted to take action. The Order had been talking about this plan for the last seventeen years and slowly executing it. Sash supposed taking time with things was a good idea, as it didn’t draw the attention of the people – the undesirables included. Only recently, once things accelerated, did some of the undesirables start to take note. Undesirables like Eleanor Townsend.
“All right,” Sash said finally. “I’ll be more careful. But, if I see the need to take care of a problem, I will. You have to agree we will still encounter trouble from the undesirables.”
“Fine, but don’t take any actions like this,” Victor gestured again to the body, “for at least a week. We need to let things calm down first. Until then, just see what information you can find out.”
; “Fair enough,” Sash tossed the now red cloth back to Victor. Despite his feelings, he would do it for his true family – the Order.
“Take her down for processing, then clean up the mess you left outside,” Victor ordered, looking at his bloody handkerchief with distaste.
Sash nodded and picked up the body. As he was leaving, he heard Victor say to him “And Sash, remember, information gathering only.”
23
The tunnel was dark, as usual, and the sound of dripping water echoed throughout the long expanse. Sash’s shoulder began to ache from the weight of his latest victim. He continued forward and grunted from the fatigue in his shoulder and arm. Damn, what has this woman been eating? Sash thought as he trudged through the darkness. His back felt wet; he wasn’t sure if it was from his sweat or her blood.
A small point of light appeared as the tunnel curved to the right. He was nearly there. He banged on the reinforced steel door twice in his usual fashion then waited. After a brief moment, the small window slid open. Sash just grunted and shifted his body so the latest delivery was visible. The opening slid shut and the metal gears of the lock disengaged. The door creaked as it swung inward, and Sash stepped inside.
Sash’s pupils were dilated from being in the dark tunnel, and his eyes strained momentarily in the brightness of the sterile room. The temperature was artificially cold, and the air was dry. The white walls reflected the light making it seem even brighter. The room had a bitter stench of chemicals, making his eyes burn. He was sure this must be why the processor always wore those tinted goggles.
“Where do you want her, Goggles?” Sash asked. He’d never cared to learn the man’s real name.
The room was large enough to house two steel tables evenly placed in the center. They were long and narrow, just the right size for a body. To his left was a small door leading to Goggles’ office with a glass window between the two rooms. Beneath the window was a row of cabinets and a counter with laboratory instruments and vials strewn across the disorganized surface. Directly across from Sash was another reinforced steel door identical to the one through which he had just entered. Sash had never been through that way, but he didn’t need to ask what was behind it. He knew.
Lining the right wall was a series of pressurized drawers. Sash had previously seen Goggles open one and slide out a metal bed-like slab about the size of the tables in the room. At the time, Goggles had placed the body of a man who failed processing on the metal slab. He used a string to attach a slip of paper with a number on it to one of the man’s toes. The drawer slid back into the wall, and the man was forgotten as the small door closed again.
“Put her on the table over there,” Goggles said in his nasal voice.
Sash obliged, glad to be rid of his heavy load. He watched as Goggles donned a pair of rubber gloves and moved over to the woman. He removed the black sack from her head. He shook his head as he examined her injuries. He made a few clicking sounds with his tongue and looked at Sash.
“Her skull seems to be cracked, and she is bleeding profusely from this laceration. She’s still alive, but barely. The probability she will survive processing is very low,” Goggles said, removing his gloves. “Next time try to bring me a subject that is not severely injured.”
“Just do what you can,” Sash said indifferently. “Either way, my problem is solved.”
Sash returned above ground with a bucket in hand. He went to the fountain that dominated the center of the town square. It had three carved horses in the middle, rearing up on their hind legs with their backs touching each other. From their open mouths, a steady stream of water poured out into the stone pool below.
Sash looked in the water. Round coins of various sizes blanketed the bottom of the fountain. He never understood why people would just throw their money away in the water. The people in the Commune were given a certain amount of money each month, and the coins were traded for goods and supplies. Sash would never waste his money on stupid gestures and useless items. All the more reason why they were called undesirables, their senseless behavior was not something the Order wanted in the Commune.
Noticing the sky was getting lighter, Sash broke away from his thoughts and carried on with his work. He filled his bucket with water from the fountain and made his way over to the blood-spattered wall. As he tossed the water at the wall, the red ran down toward the ground. After two trips to the fountain and back, the wall was clean.
He focused his attention on the pool of blood on the ground. He tossed more water on the red puddle and watched it turn pink and disappear between the stone pavers covering the ground. All it took was a few trips to refill his bucket, and he washed away the evidence of the attack.
His thoughts turned to the man who got away. Sash wanted desperately to make him pay for fleeing. Anger flooded him as he thought about the man who was too cowardly to show his face. He closed his eyes and imagined his hands wrapped around the man’s throat, squeezing the pitiful life from him. His upper lip twitched, and he gnashed his teeth in anger. He didn’t know who the man was, but Sash would be watching. He knew the signs to look for, and he was sure he would find this coward.
The sky was now turning a light-yellow color as the sun began to rise. Soon the square would be filled with people and undesirables. Sash couldn’t bear the thought of being surrounded by those fools. He threw the empty bucket down an alleyway and heard a loud clang as it crashed against something stacked up on the ground. The violent act didn’t make him feel at ease. Instead he felt rage building up inside him. Sash turned down one of the alleys and headed toward his house to sleep. He didn’t think he could make it a week without doing what he did best. He couldn’t go that long without ridding the Commune of more undesirables.
24
Warm light touched Jennie’s face, and she could see a pink tinted glow through her closed eyelids. Her eyes fluttered open to see the rising sun through the window. Disoriented, she took in her surroundings. The wooden rafters overhead and the familiar sweet smell of hay greeted her. Despite sleeping next to an open window in the middle of autumn, a horse blanket kept her warm – although she had no memory of how it got there.
Hesitantly, she pushed herself into a seated position. She yawned and stretched her arms out to either side to open up her shoulders. How long have I been sleeping? she wondered. Looking around, she could see that she was alone in the loft. Ethan was not there, and his tunic was no longer hanging to dry. Had he gotten dressed and left? It made her sad to think that he might have departed without saying goodbye. She noticed that her bag was still there with the book and the food she had brought the night before. That was a good sign.
Jennie stood up and walked toward the ladder in the middle of the loft. When she got closer, she heard voices and laughing from below. Curious, she climbed down and found Ethan and Travis feeding carrots to the horses. Relief flooded her that Ethan hadn’t left and her heart warmed. She smiled at the sight of them holding their offerings out on a flat hand while a horse sucked the carrot up using its lips. Travis and Ethan were both having fun.
Ethan noticed her standing there and said to her brightly, “Good morning. The horses really love these carrots.”
“Do you have horses where you come from?” Jennie asked, enjoying his enthusiasm.
“No. We live in houses high up in the trees, so we can’t really keep any livestock,” Ethan replied. “But we do have a lot of birds.”
Jennie laughed as she imagined a horse living in a house built in a tree. “I can see how birds would be a little easier to manage up there.”
“We already took care of all the horses while you were sleeping,” Travis said, pride in his voice. “And I brought hot coffee.”
“You are amazing, little brother of mine.” Jennie tousled his hair. “Now, take me to this coffee.”
They made their way to Jennie’s office toward the front of the stable. Jennie saw that Travis had brought a complete breakfast: coffee, muffins, sausage, hard-boiled eggs, and
even juice.
“Where did you get all this?”
“I stopped by the kitchens on my way over,” Travis replied. “I thought I would tell Madam Marie I’ve made my decision. I will be working in the stables starting tomorrow when I turn thirteen. But she wasn’t there. I guess she hadn’t come in yet.”
“That’s great news. You’re already doing wonderfully. I can see that the horses love you and your carrots from the kitchen.”
They all settled in and had their breakfast. The first sip of coffee was invigorating to Jennie, and the food gave her the energy she needed to take on the day. Travis told her all about how he and Ethan took care of the horses that morning. Apparently, Ethan was timid at first, never having been around horses, but he got the hang of it pretty quickly.
“Just like taking care of the birds, just bigger and with four legs,” Ethan teased.
When they finished eating, Jennie changed Ethan’s bandages, and they all went into the loft and sat on the floor near the window. She felt elated. She was with Ethan again, her little brother seemed happy, and Belle would be joining them shortly. They were finally able to have a moment where they could find out what was inside the book Mrs. Townsend took from the Secret Archives. They had agreed to wait until they were all together to read it. Whatever they discovered within the yellow pages would certainly merit discussion.
Jennie looked across at Ethan and caught his bright green eyes looking at her. She felt a tingling in her body as he smiled at her. It pleased her to see that he was doing better and was recovering from the infection which had plagued his arm. His face had color, and he no longer had dark circles under his eyes.
Belle entered the loft and interrupted Jennie’s thoughts. She came over and sat next to Jennie, out of breath. “Sorry I’m late. I heard some disturbing news this morning.”
