IX
The sun lit the sky revealing that there was no one in sight, but I still didn’t dare move. In those strained hours I really thought that the open space we were in was good enough cover. Peter was first to move, he turned to the rest of us, still in shock.
“What should we do?” He asked.
I found my voice as well. “I need a look.”
I tried to stand but Lace caught my arm. “Are you joking? We need to go home, it’s clear they are not in any mood to talk.”
Morome took my other arm. “She’s right, Hardin.”
“Stay here then.” I shook them off and started towards the town, my feet sinking in the fresh mud. I could hear them whispering behind me, I continued on. There was a strong possibility of danger, but I didn’t heed the warnings, if there were Cityers around then this was my best chance for talks.
The remnants of buildings could be seen up ahead along with the smell of burnt wood. I walked down a road intersecting the rows of buildings. The sense of danger that I was in made a very small impression as I stepped into the still smoldering remains of what I assumed was a city. It left only a small sense of dread in the back of my mind that was overwhelmed by the feelings of remorse for those who had lived there. My steps crunched in ash and debris, but I continued, hoping to find someone to talk with. Assuming that the burned structures were a row of individual residences, I believed that someone would be around. No one appeared; they must have evacuated.
Around a corner I came upon a sight that would change me forever. A pair of feet stuck out from under some burnt wood. They were small, blackened, those of a child. It startled me so bad that I fell backwards into a pile of ash, blurring my vision. It burned, but I managed to clean my eyes with the underside of my shirt. I didn’t dare look in that direction again. Instead I returned to the entrance where my team had gathered. They looked as though they were going to be sick.
It was in those next few seconds that my mind formulated an idea as to who was responsible for the burning of the city. It had somehow become apparent to me after seeing the team. My mind raced with the possibilities, the implications if my hunch were to be true.
“If you wanted to see Cityers, here they are.” I said.
Peter looked about to fall over. “Why would they do this to their own people?”
“They didn’t” I whispered.
“Then who did?” Morome asked.
“We did.”
They looked stunned at my answer.
“No,” Lace said, “we were all back there.”
“Not us personally, but other Humuroms.”
“No, you’re wrong.” Peter would simply not accept it.
“Think about it,” I begged, “who else could have. I just told you yesterday about all the weapons we have. And it’s bothered me for so long that they kill us. Well now I know why.”
“This could have been a land dispute, or anything else.” Morome argued.
“I cannot believe that a people so weak already would do this to their own.”
Lace threw her hands into the air. “What makes you think they’re weak?”
“I read the history, the war destroyed everything. It destroyed most everyone and ruined the land. Since then we have looked out for each other. Nobody would kill their own. This was vengeance, secret revenge for all the killings. Our people did this, and I’m going back to figure out why.”
“We can’t,” Dala said, “we are too far out. If we go back now the office will be closed and they’ll never let us out. We continue.”
Lace scoffed. “Leave it to the hunting child to kill us all. I vote we go back.”
“If we’re doing this by vote then I vote with Lace.” Morome said.
“I’m with Hardin.” Peter said.
If we did go back then Matilik would never let us out, Dala was right about that. If we continued then we chanced getting killed for starting the fire. Either way it didn’t look good for us. I thought of Mama. What would be the best route for her? “Dala’s right, I concede. We must go on, this is our only chance.”
Morome stomped his foot. “Is everyone mad? We’ll clearly get killed.
“We’ve always been mad. If you want to leave then leave, you knew what you were getting yourself into.” I retaliated.
“You said no one was going to get hurt, you said this was safe.”
I couldn’t believe Morome’s attitude towards this. “When did I say that? Aren’t you a hunter? You know nothing out here is safe.”
“Shut up before we are noticed.” Peter warned.
I hadn’t noticed how loud we were being. If someone was half a mile away they could have heard us.
“According to Hardin our own people did this, and they won’t kill us will they?” Morome was really getting on my nerves.
“I’m sorry this isn’t the skip through the meadow you were promised.” I could tell by his face that he had never come across the word “meadow” in his readings. That is if he did ever read.
“I wasn’t expecting this; I was still under the assumption that the Cityers were going to greet us with hugs and good tidings.”
The others had stepped back, not daring to quiet us. I suppose we were scarier to them than anybody who might be listening.
“Has anything out here ever been good?” I yelled as loudly as I would permit myself in those circumstances. “I thought you would use your head and read between the lines.”
“I’m sorry I don’t read all hours of the day. I actually do some work!”
“You wander aimlessly outside all day . . .”
“Shut it!” Lace intervened. “We are all going to get killed if you two don’t stop. Now I’m going with Hardin, who else.”
I almost laughed at Morome’s shocked expression when his cousin sided with me.
“I’m still with Hardin.” Peter said.
Dala nodded.
Morome could see his defeat. “Fine, I see no point in going alone.”
That was the end of that. Morome sauntered in the back of the group for most of the day as we continued on the path we had been following. I became the undisputed leader, the rest followed only when I moved first. It felt good to take control.
Trees sprang up here and there not long later, not the dead or weak ones that we were used to, but live ones with green leaves and brown bark. It was wonderful to see. They were so tall and looked so majestic towering over the mud and grass. There was grass! It was a bright green. I couldn’t quite believe that anything was still alive in the world. All my life I had always heard that everything was dead; and when I first went outside as a hunter it was proven true. This rewrote all conceptions I had of the Cityers. They lived in such a beautiful place. So why did they kill us?
My breathing quickened as I filled with elation. I knew we were getting close to something. The smell that came off the trees and grass was one that excited my brain. I had never felt anything like it. It was so fresh, unlike the stale metal smell of Humurom or the dead wet air of the Hunting Grounds. I wanted to plop down in the grass and go to sleep for days and not have to care about anything at all. My eyes drifted back to the others. Not even Morome, who was still mad, could keep a straight face. It affected all of us. Once again our imminent danger did not show on our faces or in our minds.
We should have been thinking that someone was clearly nearby to take care of the area. It appeared too neat, too groomed to happen by accident. Unfortunately none of us had any experience with grass and didn’t know it needed attention to stay short. We were also not aware of the metal patches throughout the grassy field, or that several of them had lifted up slightly.
My mind was at ease for the moment. I looked at the others; it was as if seeing them for the first time. I saw Peter as my old friend, who I had yet to catch up with. “Hey Peter,” I said to him, “I’ve been meaning to ask: how have you been?”
He laughed. “I’ve
been good. I’m surprised you wanted me on this trip, we haven’t talked in so long.”
“I’ve rarely talked recently. How were things in dining since I left?”
He groaned. “Terrible as always, they switched me from water gatherer to dishwasher when you were transferred.”
“Sorry about that.” I really was; being dishwasher was terrible down there.
“It’s alright.”
“Hey, remember that time that we snuck into the springs because you thought they kept extra food down there?”
Peter nodded. “That was forever ago, I can’t believe you remember that.”
It felt good to be talking to him again. “I remember all that crazy stuff we did.”
“What happened to that?” Peter asked.
“Things changed.” I said, losing my smile for the first time since smelling the sweet aroma of plant life.
“If this works,” Peter said slowly, “maybe we can have new good times out here.”
“That’d be something. And that’s the force, really, thinking of all the good times that could happen. It’s so much more than just food, its peace. I thought that idea was long gone, but I don’t think it is.”
“You’re probably the only one who doesn’t, everybody else has given up.”
A part of me knew he was right. “I don’t think they gave up. I think they’re just complacent. They figure as long as things don’t change at all it’s better than bad change. We need to remind people that things can actually get better with a lot of work and a little time.”
“But if nobody wants change then how do you convince them?”
“I hope by doing what we’re doing.”
He smiled. “Lying to them?”
“By making progress in a way that they can’t stop, and then show them the results if it works. Then they can’t be mad about us going around behind their backs and they’ll let us continue until everything is better.”
“You really are an optimist.” Peter said.
“Which is strange because inside I’m really negative.” I replied.
That was the first time in a very long time that I shared a piece of personal information with anybody. I usually tried to only talk about what was going on, maybe how I felt about it in a generic sense, but definitely not anything revealing my inner thoughts to that degree. It must have been the trees and grass. Occasionally I would tell somebody something personal if I was in a really good mood. And I was there, so that must have been the reason. I don’t even recall telling Milton anything too personal. Or maybe I was overreacting, but either way I was feeling very self conscious. The more distance between me and somebody else the better was my mindset with regards to what went on in my head. Then again Peter was my friend so I suppose it wasn’t that bad. It probably doesn’t make sense that I would feel so stupid for saying that but I treated my inner thoughts with care. My worst fear was for people to feel sorry for me because of what’s happened in my life. And I thought that if they knew anything about my inner thoughts then if anything happened to me they would feel sorrier for me. Even trying to explain it makes no sense. I put the thoughts away eventually and continued on with the mission.
Hardin's War Page 9
