Naturals (Lost Souls)

by Tiffany Truitt

  Louisa nodded and cleared her throat, turning her head up toward my mother’s face. “I believe in the council. The council will protect me. Protect me from my enemies. Protect me from myself.”

  “That’s a good girl,” my mother replied. She closed her eyes and began to rock Louisa back and forth. Emma stood watching, her hands clutched at her sides. I turned my back on them and returned to bed.

  “Tess. Tess!”

  The voice didn’t belong to my mother. My mother was dead. So was Emma. “Louisa,” I whispered as my eyes opened. My younger sister was still alive and I had left her. I couldn’t stop the tears that ran down my face then; it didn’t matter that the darkness of the night did nothing to hide them from Henry, who was now closer to me than I remembered him being before I had gone to sleep. We had walked for two days after our run-in with the chosen ones in the woods. No sleep. No rest. When McNair finally allowed us a night to sleep, I didn’t hesitate.

  I pressed the palms of my hands against my eyes. “I…I left her,” I replied, trying to be quiet. It was okay for Henry to see this, but I didn’t want the others to witness my weakness.

  Why did it still feel like weakness?

  “We had to leave her,” Henry replied softly.

  “No. We didn’t. If I hadn’t acted so foolishly with James, we would have had more time. I wanted too much. It was silly to love at all, and I went and fell in love with the one person I never should have thought about. Somehow that love destroyed everything,” I said. “The council always told us that it was dangerous to feel such things. When I think of how my selfish need for James affected Louisa, I think maybe the council had it right.”

  “Tess. Look at me. Please, look at me.”

  I sighed and reluctantly moved my hands from my face, choosing to look up at the stars tossed randomly into the night sky than to confront Henry’s gaze. It was a compromise. He could see me, but I couldn’t bear to look at him.

  “You’re tired. You’re scared. And you miss your sister. Don’t let one bad night make you regret the choices you made. You fought back against them, Tess. Don’t regret that,” Henry urged.

  I laughed. “I didn’t do any fighting. I made out with some boy a bunch of times. I read books I wasn’t allowed to read and listened to music I was told was harmful. I wasn’t like you. I wasn’t a part of some resistance movement.”

  Henry sounded like he cared, yet I couldn’t help but remember his need for vengeance back at the compound only days before. Was he asking me if I was all right because he was worried, or was he subtly convincing me to join his revolution?

  “And you approve of my actions? There’re so many different ways to rebel. Revolutions aren’t all just blood and sweat. The strongest revolutions begin in the mind and the heart. Why do you think the council took books, music, and art away first? Because they’re the weapons by which our souls fortify themselves. And it is our very souls that the council is trying to destroy.”

  I couldn’t help it—I had to look at Henry. His words weren’t backed by the tone of rage that usually composed his speeches. This was a different Henry. Not quite the boy I knew in my childhood, but also not the vengeful soldier who’d helped me escape.

  Maybe it was pure exhaustion that had torn down his walls, but this sounded like hope.

  He sounded like James.

  I grabbed Henry’s hand and clutched it. “We have to find a way to save her. We have to. Louisa won’t make it on her own. She’s not like you or me. She’s a believer.” My mother had seen to that.

  “No, you’re wrong. She’s strong like you. She’ll be all right,” Henry said, giving my hand a squeeze.

  I shook my head, wiping my free hand against my nose. “I don’t even know her well enough to say what she’s like. You’re just telling me that to make me feel better.” I had put distance between Louisa and me growing up because she had reminded me too much of my mother. I wondered if I would have to spend my whole life regretting that choice.

  Henry fell silent. Then he said, “You’re right. I am. I can’t pretend that place isn’t dangerous. But,” he continued, “we all had to make some decisions back there. They weren’t pretty decisions. Maybe they weren’t right, but we had to make them.”

  “You all had to save me…because I’m fertile.” I swallowed, the word feeling strange to say. I didn’t know if I would ever be comfortable with it. It was a word connected with something I was taught to be dirty and shameful, and I felt as though it covered me like sap from a tree.

  “I don’t care what you are. I just had to save you,” he whispered back.

  I went still. There it was again. No matter how much things had changed while we were apart, he still felt it. I could name what he was feeling now, especially since I had felt it myself. I just hadn’t felt it for him.

  Henry yanked his hand from mine and jumped to his feet. I propped myself up on my elbows. “Where are you going?” I whispered, looking around to make sure his movement hadn’t woken anyone up.

  “I have to pee,” he said with a careless shrug and disappeared.

  I lay back down, pulling my knees to my chest and curling myself into a ball. It made sense to try and go back to sleep—there would be another long day of travel in the morning. The nights and days were getting colder as we moved deeper and deeper into the Middlelands. McNair had offered me his jacket earlier in the day, but I had stubbornly refused. I was still angry at his refusal to back up my plan, and I didn’t want to let him see me as some prize he was bringing back to his people.

  I was regretting my refusal tonight, though. I knew I could simply ask Henry to sleep closer…perhaps even cuddle. But for Henry, there would be too much meaning wrapped between our limbs. We wouldn’t define the act the same way. And it would make me ache for James.

  I’m not sure how long it took me to fall back asleep or why Henry vanished for so long, but the sound of leaves shuffling and crackling against the eerie music of the woods at night jarred me from my sleep.

  “Run!”

  One word. No attempt at secrecy or strategy. It was human instinct at its greatest—flight or fight. RUN. I scrambled to my feet, and Robert’s hand yanked me by the arm. I couldn’t make sense of what was happening. Henry was running toward me, but before I could open my mouth to ask what was going on, Robert threw me over his shoulder and we were off.

  I watched as Henry ran after us. McNair and his men stood their ground, their guns pointed at whatever had caused Henry to sound the alarm. But I saw nothing else; Robert was too fast. The bitter air stung my eyes as he effortlessly maneuvered the woods. He only ran for minutes before he stopped, and even though I had done none of the actual running myself, when he helped me to my feet I was breathless.

  Robert circled me, his sharp eyes searching our surroundings. Even when I did catch my breath, I didn’t dare to speak. I had learned what it was to be chased, hunted down like I was a war criminal, and my silence was the only weapon I currently possessed.

  I made a vow to myself in that moment that I would someday learn to defend myself. Maybe I would never be strong enough to take down a chosen one, but I would never let them control me in another moment of fear as they did now.

  A rustle in the woods caused goose bumps to rise on my skin. Whatever was coming for Robert and me had found us. This was it.

  “Is she safe?” Henry panted.

  Before either of us could answer, a gunshot cut through the air. We paused, waiting. For what, I didn’t know, but whatever came next couldn’t be stopped no matter how hard any of us silently prayed—that much I knew.

  “I have to go back and help McNair and the others,” said Robert, the first to spring into action. “If we lose them, we won’t be able to make it to their camp. It’s the only place she’ll be safe.”

  Henry took two giant strides toward me and grabbed my hand. He was shaking. He took a deep breath and nodded in agreement. “I don’t think we’re going to be safe anywhere. You don’t know what’
s out there.”

  “They’re our only chance,” Robert said firmly.

  Henry nodded again—this time with more certainty. “Go. I’ll keep her safe as long as I can.”

  I opened my mouth to speak to Robert. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say, but it felt important I say something. But he was gone. I looked up at Henry. “What…what’s out there?”

  An agonizing scream filled the darkness and Henry pulled me to him. I let him. Because if this was the end, I didn’t want to be alone. I wanted him to have his moment with me, and maybe I wanted it a bit, too. Wouldn’t it be better to die in the arms of someone I cared about than to die by myself? His hands moved to my face. His eyes were wide and his face pale. I’d never seen him so scared.

  “They found us? The chosen ones?” I asked.

  Henry swallowed and his eyes traveled across my face, taking me in, memorizing every fault—all the random construction that James had loved, too. James. Would he somehow know I died? “I don’t know what they are,” Henry admitted.

  Another scream.

  No.

  No.

  No.

  “We have to go help them,” I commanded, detangling myself from Henry’s grasp.

  He grabbed onto my wrists and held them tightly. “There’s nothing we can do.”

  “If there’s nothing to be done, no chance of getting out of this, then I’d rather die fighting. Wouldn’t you?” I asked, channeling some of the hardness I so often heard from him.

  He turned his head and looked to where the screams were coming from. “The council decided how you lived. You want them to decide how you die, too?” His eyes found mine, and I saw the soldier return. “Who says we’re dying? Not me. Not tonight,” he added. “Robert said to wait here. So we wait.” But this solider didn’t want vengeance. He wanted to protect.

  I pulled against Henry’s hold, but his grasp only became stronger. I brought my foot up and slammed it down on his toe. I knew I didn’t have enough strength to cause any real harm, but I hoped the surprise would distract him long enough for me to make a run for it.

  I didn’t move two feet before Henry’s arms wrapped around my waist from behind. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he panted into my ear.

  I continued to try and break his hold on me. “Let me go,” I pleaded.

  Henry spun me around to face him. “To do what? Die? Then all of it was for nothing. Louisa. James. Everything your father died for.”

  I froze. My heart beat wildly against my chest. There it was. My guilt. “You don’t understand. I can’t just sit here and let them die for me. I can’t.”

  I felt it then: a panic attack. The air wouldn’t come up. It was stuck. I was stuck. There was no way out of here. There never would be. “I can’t be their symbol. I’m not some sign that our people will go on. Maybe the naturals are supposed to end, Henry. How many people have to die before we realize we can’t change anything? We ran and they found us. They’ll always find us.”

  “You’re our hope when we were told none existed. I believe with all my soul a little hope is all we need. A little hope and we can get them to rise up and fight back,” Henry argued.

  “I can’t be the start of their war. Those people could be out there suffering for me, and for what? I can’t…because even if we make it out of here, this won’t stop. It will never, ever stop. The council will make sure of it. The Isolationists will make sure of it. I’ll be like some toy the kids fight over during playtime.” I paused, sucking in as much air as I could. “I’d rather die than go back to a life like that.”

  Every fear that had plagued me during the journey returned in full force—the fears that were the darkest part of my soul, ones that hoped I’d never make it to the camp.

  “We’re never going back to that life, Tess. I swear it. No matter where we go, I promise it will be different. Even if you and I have to run from the Middlelands as well.” Henry’s voice was low and strong. “Do you believe me when I tell you this?”

  I nodded numbly.

  “Then you also need to believe me when I say that you can’t fight. That’s the truth of the matter. Want to help? You’ll wait here with me and stop trying to run. If one of those things makes it through, I’m all we’ve got. Chasing after you isn’t in either of our best interests right now.”

  When I didn’t reply, Henry raised an eyebrow. He grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him. “You want to live?”

  I stared back at him—the boy the council tried to erase. I saw in him my past and my present. We would have to search out our future together. He had promised me this back during the early days of our journey. As we’d walked side by side among the destroyed houses, he told me I could have my own life.

  I didn’t have to leave him behind. No matter where I was forced to go. Unlike Louisa and James, he was here with me.

  “Yes,” I breathed. “I want to live.”

  Chapter 5

  When Robert finally found us, Henry and I were hidden as well as we could be. Henry had attempted to camouflage us with fallen tree branches, but the barren limbs of the trees that lay dead on the ground, decaying reminders of a life once lived, offered little protection. So we waited for what seemed like hours. And when Robert emerged, I didn’t think twice before running out from my hiding place and throwing my arms around him.

  Robert gently pulled away from my embrace and offered me a small smile.

  I felt my cheeks go red. I wasn’t sure that I’d ever hugged Robert before. Can’t say I’d always been the most affectionate of people, but while I was embarrassed, I didn’t feel shame. I was glad he was okay.

  He was family.

  Maybe that word didn’t mean now what it had meant years and years ago, but I doubted there was anything left in this world untouched by war. And I didn’t feel the need to hide that anymore.

  “What about the others?” Henry asked from behind me.

  Robert’s expression grew tight.

  “They’re all dead?” I asked, my stomach dropping.

  “Not all of us.”

  McNair appeared. Alone. A long gash ran from his forehead down to his chin. No doubt it would leave a permanent mark—a battle scar proclaiming it would be a long war. My throat felt dry and my chin fell forward. My eyes burned. I felt it again, deep inside the pit of my stomach—guilt. How many people had to die just so I could live? How many families would be ruined simply to keep me alive? Was I worth it? No, I wasn’t. It was what I could do that meant something. It was the hope for humanity.

  “Did you take care of them?” asked Henry, allowing no space to mourn what we had lost.

  “You can say that,” barked a voice. I looked up to see Eric dragging something across the ground. His face was covered with a plethora of bruises and cuts, and while none of his lacerations were as deep as the one that covered McNair’s face, it was obvious Eric had taken quite a beating.

  As my eyes moved from assessing his injuries to the object he heaved toward us, I realized it just wasn’t some thing. It was a person.

  This man was too large to be Jones. Massive. Unlike anything I’d ever seen. Even the memories of my father’s captors that danced inside my brain at night—images I knew my fear had exaggerated—couldn’t compare to the behemoth in front of me. Eric grunted and proceeded to pull the creature closer. I could only make out his back and limbs, as the man’s head hung low toward his chest. I would bet the length of his arm alone would reach from my head down to my toes.

  “Damn, this abnorm weighs a ton,” Eric spat out as he ungraciously dropped the man to the ground.

  “Why does he look like that?” I asked, appalled.

  “Not cute enough for you, darling?” Eric asked. “Consider this thing a cousin of the pretty little boys you call chosen ones. They take less time to make. Their creators don’t waste all the years programming them into believing in the council’s crap. They don’t have the abilities, either.”

  “Then why make them at
all?” Henry asked. “I thought the point of the creators making the chosen ones was to produce a generation of flawless saps trained to follow whatever was commanded of them. The perfect humans.”

  “That is the council’s higher purpose. But they’re losing the war, and they need infantry. So they commissioned these things. Strong. Brutal. Easier for us naturals to kill because of their lack of abilities, but good for mass producing,” McNair explained.

  Henry edged closer to the unconscious man and hesitantly kicked him with his toe.

  “Don’t,” I warned, afraid that at any moment the beast would awaken. But even as I said the words, I felt myself moving closer.

  “Is it dead?” Henry asked, staring down at him with pure abhorrence.

  “What about Jones?” Robert asked.

  I looked over at McNair, who gave a slight shake of his head. My breath caught in my throat, and my chest tightened painfully.

  A wry grin appeared on Eric’s face. “The abnorm’s not dead, but I sure did knock the shit out of him. You can touch him if you like,” he replied with a waggle of his eyebrows, like the abnorm was some prized object he wanted to boast about during some creepy version of show and tell. I didn’t understand how Eric could make jokes, knowing his friend had just died. But then I didn’t know whether they were really friends, either.

  Henry crouched down and placed his hands on the being. With a considerable amount of exertion, he managed to turn him on his back.

  I’d never seen a chosen one like this.

  I sucked in my lips to keep from emptying the paltry contents of my stomach. Even the deformed chosen one I’d helped clear away my first day at Templeton was nothing compared to what was before us.

  This was a creature of hell.

  The monster’s forehead was covered in bumps and ridges. He had a misshapen skull that reminded me of the crust of the chicken potpie the compound served on holidays. Every breath the creature struggled to take caused the bones to ripple under his skin. Large scars—recent battle scars?—ran rampant across his face, hastily sewn with crude stitches. Everything about this creation was distorted. Imperfect. One eye larger than the other. His eyebrows and hair not groomed. His teeth pointy and jagged. And his body—this was where the creators put forth their real effort. I’d never seen muscles so large. This man wasn’t art. There was nothing beautiful about him.