The Wall (The Woodlands)

by Taylor, Lauren Nicolle

  I felt my heart beating faster and the blood rush to my cheeks. I took a step backwards. “Yes, it’s good to get back into it. It gives me something to focus on,” I lied, as I slapped imaginary dust off my pants. He looked at me doubtfully for a second but shook it free.

  “Yes, I suppose that’s true. I like getting back into working at the hospital… even if it is with Matt.” It was unlike Joseph to be so unforgiving but he hadn’t let go of what Matthew had failed to tell us. Also, as far as I knew, Cal was still under Matthew’s care in the hospital, which had to be hard.

  After we put Orry to bed, I took the opportunity to turn the focus onto him and let him talk my ears off about his day until we dozed off on our couch, carelessly intertwined like the gnarled roots of a Banyan tree.

  I woke up the next morning in our bed and realized Joseph must have carried me. The first day of training had been exhausting and I was sure it would only get worse. Pietre didn’t strike me as someone who would go easy on a beginner, especially not me.

  This is how it started.

  Every morning, I would see Joseph off at the door. He would take Orry every other day and I would drop the baby with Odval on my days.

  If Joseph suspected anything, he never said so. He was so preoccupied with his medical training. It had stepped up recently because they were preparing for the mission. People were getting checked out and checked off a list and preparations were being made for the incoming Spiders. Some of them had been injured during interrogations and there were also likely to be injuries during the rescues. Gus asked Joseph to go along as the medic but he said he felt like he didn’t have enough experience yet to be solely responsible for the groups’ health.

  I did a good job of separating the two things I was doing. When I was with Joseph, I stuffed the training Rosa in a box and locked it. I immersed myself in him and Orry. I intended to tell him… I just wanted to wait until I was stronger, trained better, so I would have more back up when he tried to convince me not to go. Well, that’s what I told myself.

  I became friends with my lies. They wrapped around me like curls of white smoke, whispering the necessary answers in my ears. When Joseph noticed a scratch on my arm, I told him I got it rushing through my work. When I appeared tired, I said it was the nightmares. When he questioned the pile of work that had accumulated in the corner, I said people were giving me more time to finish because of what had happened but they were still bringing things over. The lies came quickly and easily and it scared me. Inside, I felt like a coward. He knew what I’d wanted to do and I should have just told him the truth straight away. Instead, I slunk into a corner, made excuses, and let one half of me lie and the other half wrap my arms around him like nothing had ever happened.

  FITNESS

  As expected, Pietre was a hard taskmaster. He had me running laps, climbing trees, and doing sit-ups and push-ups. But I didn’t mind it. I liked the way my body responded to the exercise. My stomach flattened and my arms became ropey and toned. I was never going to look like Careen, the terrible and formidable threat of a woman, but I had my own kind of fitness.

  Tree climbing was my favorite thing. Being light and agile, I could clamber up even thin-boughed trees quickly and quietly. I selected a tall Poplar tree. Its slim branches were low to the ground and stuck straight out at a 45-degree angle. The whole tree looked like it had been pulled through a water pipe and the branches hadn’t uncoiled. As I sat on a bendy branch to catch my breath, a vein of guilt ran through me. I’d strayed far from that busting, pregnant girl. I sighed. I grieved. I was so different to what I used to be. That girl slipped over a cliff when I wasn’t looking, a clatter of loose dirt spilling over rocks, the only evidence she ever existed.

  Sitting here now, with the rough bark scratching my backside, the spiky buds pressing into my head and arms, I couldn’t imagine how I had once been comfortable up here. But then I was with Joseph. He softened everything.

  “What are you thinking about?” a breathless Pietre asked. He was looking up at me between the branches, his eyes curious.

  “Nothing.”

  “You know, if this is too hard for you, you don’t have to go. You could give up,” he suggested.

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I snapped, wriggling around and trying to sway the tree. Maybe I could eject him from it.

  “I would.”

  I glared down at him and jumped to my feet, sending scratchy bits of bark and poplar buds towards his annoying face.

  “Why do you hate me so much?” I asked.

  He wiped his face and squinted up at me. Pursing his lips, he considered my question.

  “I don’t hate you. But my mother was one of the Survivors that didn’t make it out of the mounds. So for that… I feel a little bit of payback is necessary.” Leaves dotted his hair and he tried to shake them off without falling from his perch.

  I shifted my feet to disperse my weight better. I was shocked at this revelation but tried not to show it. My voice felt small, “So you blame me?”

  “No.”

  “Then what?”

  “She died so you could live. I guess I wanted to make sure you made it count.”

  I was confused. I didn’t understand where that left us. All I knew was I was trying as hard as I could. Grudging respect maybe? At least that’s how I felt. My lips curled a little as I realized I seemed to have a knack for having serious conversations in trees. I wondered if my life could get any more ludicrous. Of course it could.

  I swung myself up to the next branch and muttered, “I’ll make it count.”

  And I’m pretty sure I heard him respond with, ‘you better’ as he made his way down towards the sodden earth.

  I climbed to the top of the tree. No one could reach me up there. I gripped the trunk and moved like a monkey, never staying put for too long until I reached the uppermost branches. I stayed there longer than I should have, letting myself sway in the breeze, willing my body to become nothing so I could float over the Wall. The pressure was weighing on me and I considered the fact that I might fail, that I wouldn’t make it count. I was overflowing and just wanted to be empty—if only for a second.

  Running my hands over the straggly bark, I thought about Addy. Why hadn’t she come to visit me? I was sure Matthew probably told her what I was doing. Maybe she disagreed with my choice. It didn’t make any difference, I suppose, but I wanted her to support my decision. She of all people understood the importance of family.

  Careen’s voice pierced the silence. “Rosa, what are you doing up there? Don’t you need to pick up Orry?”

  I scrambled down the trunk, skinning both my knees in my haste. Odval would be waiting for me.

  When I got home on day eleven, Apella was in my chair. I would say sitting but that’s not what she was doing, everything about her was set on edge. She was like a porcelain figure, her legs folded neatly, her composure perfect, her whole existence looking out of place perched atop a pile of Addy’s crocheted rugs. She looked down at her hands, which were clasped lightly in her lap, and then up at me through a curtain of blonde hair. I tried to smile at her but it came out all wrong on my face. How could I lie so easily to Joseph and not to her?

  “Rosa, I’m concerned about you. You haven’t visited in a while. Is everything all right?” I could tell the words pained her. She was never one for sentiment and this was difficult for her.

  I waved her off, “I’m fine.”

  She rose delicately and wafted over to me, gently placing her cool hand on my cheek. “Please come see me before you leave,” she said sadly. I didn’t know what to say so I nodded.

  SURVIVAL SKILLS

  Finally I had something I could teach Careen and Pietre. Wandering through the forest, I picked out the various edible plants and showed them. The sun was sifting through the leaves and actually warming the earth slightly. Pockets of yellow pinecones moved like little, bearded faces poking out of the pine needles. The azaleas I’d pointed out to Orry had starte
d to flower. It was beautiful but it was also a warning. If the weather was clearing, the Woodland soldiers may be ready to start their trek. They would begin their search for us.

  Careen listened with interest as I tried to educate them, Pietre quietly fumed.

  “See these?” I said, bending a branch towards their faces. “They’re sweet. A bit chewy but a good source of calories.”

  Pietre eyed it with disgust. I let it snap back into place, hoping it would whip him as it returned.

  “Why would I eat a pinecone if I can shoot a rabbit?” he asked, crossing his arms like a child.

  Careen touched him affectionately and he flinched. A devilish look spread across his face. “I think it’s time we showed you how to hunt.”

  I shriveled away from his stare. I didn’t want to hunt. Killing things was not in me. I knew that. I stood my ground. “I don’t need to learn to hunt; I survived out there for months, pregnant, eating only nuts and berries.”

  He sneered at me. “You want me to sign off on your mission? Then you’ll hunt.”

  Careen protested, “Look, I think she’s shown that she can handle herself out here. I don’t think…”

  “Think?” he snapped. “Who asked you?”

  She closed her mouth. I was so surprised at her. She could more than handle him. If she wanted, she could snap him over her thigh and toss him in the dirt. I didn’t understand why she would let him tell her what to do. Observing their relationship over the last week and a half reminded me of Paulo and Mother. It made me wonder if this was normal. If so, it made me feel like I was the undeserving winner of the boyfriend lottery. Joseph would never speak to me that way. Although, what I’d done lately would warrant it.

  “I’ll do more combat skills if you want but I’m not hunting,” I said. I was sure if I killed an animal in front of him, I would burst into tears and there was no way I was going to let that happen.

  “Fine,” Pietre said, his eyes burning.

  I’d said I would try harder with my combat skills but I couldn’t help but argue with some of the more specialized moves Pietre wanted me to learn. I couldn’t see myself cartwheeling across the front lawn of my parents place and leaping onto the roof. Pietre had mixed training up in the last few days and we jumped from skill to skill like a test. It reminded me harrowingly of the Test at the Classes.

  “I don’t see why I need to know how to disarm a man. Paulo doesn’t own a gun, none of the citizens do,” I said, crossing my arms and squatting over the fire I’d just made from nothing but a rock and some dried grass. “Look,” I gestured. “I can do this.”

  Pietre sneered at me. Standing back, I could almost see the waves of anger rolling off him. “Yes, but lighting a fire won’t help you in the Rings. You need to be able to defend yourself if someone comes at you.” He stormed towards me and flung his forearm to my neck. Forcing me up with his other arm, pinching my underarm skin, he pinned me against a tree and lifted me off the ground. My legs kicked uselessly as my windpipe slowly closed. “You have to believe I won’t hurt you. That in fact, I can’t,” he said, staring at me intently, cocking his head to the side as he searched my eyes.

  I was much smaller than him, weaker, and a not nearly as skilled as a fighter. Of course he could hurt me! This wasn’t about some attitude adjustment I needed to make.

  “Let me go,” I managed to gasp, although my breath was running out fast. I could see Careen standing behind me, blurred by my wet eyes, as I felt the fight leaving my body. She shifted nervously, clamping her hands together like she was trying to stop herself from interfering.

  He watched my eyes roll up. I was about to pass out. His eyebrows drew together as he studied me with morbid curiosity, like when I watched my neighbor kill a chicken. It was a spectacle to watch it run around with its head missing, even if it was disgusting. His face relaxed and he let me fall, throwing his hands up in exasperation, relenting.

  I fell to my knees, clutching my throat and coughing. Glancing at one of the knives at my feet, I let anger overtake reason. I wrapped my hands around it tightly and stood. I hated being tested. It eroded my skin and cornered my judgment, until all I could see was my need for retribution.

  “She’s impossible,” he yelled at Careen. “I can’t see how this is going work.” He turned his back to me, digging his feet into the dirt like a bull about to charge.

  I’d hoped I would hit the tree to his right—just graze his ear or something clever like that. I wanted prove to him I had learned something, that I wasn’t useless. I pulled my arm back and threw. The knife cartwheeled through the air. I stood there, hands at my sides, mouth agape, as it circled its way towards the middle of his back. I sighed with relief when it landed, handle first, between his shoulder blades with a satisfying thud and bounced to the forest floor.

  I couldn’t help myself; I let out a triumphant, “Bah!” and fell to the ground laughing. Careen covered her mouth to muffle her giggles.

  Pietre twirled around and I thought he was going to punch me in the face. Instead, a mean smile curled his lips. “Better,” he said as he picked up the knife and wiped it on his trousers. He placed it in my hand and pulled me up straight. He wrapped his fingers around my own and my breath caught unpleasantly. “Hold it like this and keep both eyes open when you aim.” He stood behind me, whispering into my ear, and I tried to focus on the knife and not the warmth of his hard body pressed into my back. “Ok, retract your arm and make sure you release it here,” he held my hand level with my face, “and not here.” He brought our hands down to my waist. “Good, now throw.”

  I threw the knife and it landed just left of the center of the trunk of the tree. I let myself smile a little. Realizing he still had his hand wrapped around my own, I wiggled out of his grasp and turned to face him. “Thanks.”

  He shrugged. “Just get on with it. We don’t have time for this.” He looked to Careen, who was beaming like a proud parent. “We don’t have time for you either but we’re stuck with you,” he said, pointing a knife at me accusingly.

  He beckoned Careen over, nuzzling into her neck and turning my stomach. Was that what Joseph and I looked like to others? I hoped not. “Why don’t you show her how it’s done, honey,” he said into her hair. Ick!

  Careen gathered up five short-handled knives and threw them in succession. When I looked at the tree, she had made a circle pattern. “Show off,” I muttered. Her ears pricked but she ignored me, strolling elegantly to the tree and plucking out the knives with ease. This was never going to be my thing. I felt sorry for the tree.

  After I’d proved to Pietre that I could at least throw the knife so it landed blade first into a target, he let me move on to something else.

  He fished around in his small duffle bag and I was worried he was going to pull out another weapon for me to master. Instead, he withdrew a handful of dark grey material and threw me a wad. On closer inspection, I could see they were gloves and little booties. “Put those on. This is mission specific and you must be able to do this if you want to come with us.”

  I rolled my eyes. Who did he think he was, Genghis Khan? I put on the equipment, wondering what possible use they could have.

  As Pietre shoved and cursed his way through the slapping branches, I watched his back ripple and tense with fascination. He was wound up tighter than a spring and I knew I was the one that wound him even tighter. He wore a dusty blue t-shirt and dark jeans, the standard canvas shoes wrapped around his ankles. He was not as tall as Joseph and not as broad. He looked like a Survivor, strong, lean, and ready to jump to action at any second. His hair was the part that amused me the most. He seemed to always need to be in control but his hair didn’t cooperate. Light brown in color, it was spiky and stuck up at all angles, like he had just rolled out of bed. He was forever trying to smooth it down. I wished he would leave it. It was the only part of him that seemed accessible and less hard. Careen followed him, her feet barely touching the ground as she walked. She was like a cat, lithe, beautifu
l, and slightly feral.

  I, on the other hand, moved quietly but carefully, around the trees, under the branches. I inhaled and reveled in the smells of the woods. I treated them as I would my home, with respect.

  I followed them until we found ourselves at the Great Wall.

  Pietre spun around to face us, running his hand through his hair for the hundredth time. I clambered my way through the brush, always lagging behind, and stood before them. Pietre’s body lurched as if stunned and he strode towards me with an angry look on his face. I suppressed the feeling that I should run. He grabbed my arm and jerked it to his face, inspecting it.

  “What?” I shook him free, looking to Careen for help. He pulled a cloth from his back pocket and clamped it to my wrist. His stare was intense and I didn’t like it.

  “You’re bleeding,” he stated, wrapping a large gash on my arm quickly and tightly.

  “Huh,” I remarked, fascinated with the fact I hadn’t felt a thing. I peeled back the cloth and the cut bubbled blood like a backed-up plughole. It was quite deep but I had no recollection of how I did it.

  “You need to be careful; you’re not paying attention to your surroundings,” he snapped, irritated. “Remember, you have a low sensitivity to pain at the moment.”

  “Are you concerned about me, Pietre?” I teased.

  His eyes flicked to me disparagingly as he kicked off his shoes. He wasn’t concerned, just annoyed. I was a bothersome bug he wanted to squash.

  “Just help yourself, so I don’t have to.”

  Help yourself. The words crushed me as I remembered the last time I’d heard them or thought them. I tightened the bandage over my bleeding wound, and wrapped a mental bandage around the oozing wound Cal had left in my head.

  “Fine,” I said shortly. “What are we doing now?” I gazed up at the wall. It was in full shadow, with the sun hovering just past the turrets. It felt cold and oppressive. I didn’t like being this close. It still gave me the chill associated with being closed in. I’d managed to find some history books, books with real facts in them, during my stay in the hospital. The Wall had been built to protect the Chinese Empire from various threatening groups but also to control trade. The books also revealed there were bodies sandwiched between the great stones that made up the beastly structure. It was a towering graveyard.