by Kody Boye
One thought keeps repeating in my head.
I am now a married woman.
But what comes next, I wonder, now that the ceremony is complete? A new home? A new life? A family? A baby?
These thoughts besiege my consciousness as I look out into the crowd—as I face those who judge and love with an open mind and heart—and while I cannot foretell the future, I can experience the present.
I steal a breath through my nose and expel it out my mouth and nod and smile to those looking in at us, not knowing what they think or how they will react come time we leave out one passageway or another.
Nearby, Ceyonne catches my eye with a wave at waist-level. She mouths, Good job; and I, being the overwhelmed bride that I am, can only nod in response.
“Now then,” Revered Mother Terra says as she turns to look first at me, then at Daniel. “It is time we get going. Mother Merissa, will you please show us out?”
“Yes ma’am,” the woman replies, then turns and parts the groomsmen with a wave of one hand and gestures us forward with a wave of another.
I lift my skirt and follow, falling into line alongside Daniel, who stands at my right, and Mother Terra, who stands at my left. We advance toward the connecting tunnel opposite the one I arrived in and enter just in time for several sheets of metal to come sliding down both sides of the glass windows and a row of lights to burst into life overhead.
I jump, startled as the sheets of metal slam into the ground on either side of us.
Daniel, in response, reaches out and touches my arm. “It’s okay,” he says.
“It’s a security protocol,” Mother Merissa adds.
“For what?” I reply.
“There have been… problems in the past.”
Like what, I wonder? Men with guns? Women with grenades? Children with stones?
I shake my head to dispel the notion that someone—or several someones—could mean us harm and continue down the tunnel, toward where the metal gate separating Daniel’s preparation room from the tunnel awaits us.
Mother Merissa lifts her wrist. “Open the gate,” she says.
The gate opens.
Several SAD troops divide into two groups and await further instruction in single files.
Upon our approach, Mother Merissa turns to a Dame near the front and says, “Soldier.”
“Yes ma’am?” the woman asks, but doesn’t break formation.
“Is the transport ready for the bride and groom?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Take some of your unit and proceed out the doorway to ensure their protection.”
The SAD troops divide organically, as if they are lifeforms skittering across the deserts. One goes to the door, waits, nods; a second lifts her firearm and aims it at the doorway; a third draws her stun baton, exhales, then raises three fingers before beginning to count down from three, two, then one.
The lead Dame opens the door.
The one with the shock baton engages her weapon.
The one with the firearm waits for any sign of activity.
Then the remaining SAD troops flush out of the building and into the blinding morning light.
“Go,” Mother Terra says.
I take hold of Daniel’s hand and allow him to lead the two of us out into the stunning brightness. There is no cloud cover overhead, and above, the sun beats down with an intensity that I have never before experienced, instantly drawing beads of sweat along my neck and under my arms. I inhale a breath of humid air and grimace as the need to sneeze assaults me, but am able to fight it off as we make our way toward the nearby vehicle.
Someone in the distance yells, “Beauty and Grace!”
Daniel and I both pause and lift our heads.
A single woman, who can be seen beyond the SADs to our left, raises her right hand to reveal an intricate series of wires snaking along her right arm.
“Go,” Mother Terra says. “Now!”
“But—” I start.
There is a blinding white light one moment, then an explosion unlike any I have ever heard the next.
Dames are sent flying.
Weapons are flung through the air.
The world, once vibrant and alarming, is silenced.
I blink, stunned, as the smell of blood fills the air, and watch as ash, fire, and bits of clothing rain down from above.
What? I try to ask, but can only feel the words forming on my lips. I cannot hear anything over the incessant screeching that fills my ears.
Daniel’s hand claws at my arm.
I turn.
I look at his face.
Wild eyes look back at me and a snarl of fear on his lips mouths, Run.
So I do—toward the vehicle that lies in the distance. All around me I ignore the armored women who are running back and forth, raising rifles, slinging batons, tending to the wounded and dying and the dead.
A door along the long black vehicle opens.
Daniel pushes me in, without regard for my dress, then flings himself in after me.
The door isn’t even shut before the vehicle goes screeching out of the lot and into the nearby street.
I tremble and lift my head to look out the back window.
“What,” I gasp, startled to hear the sound of his voice, “happened?”
“Rebels,” the man who’d opened the door says. “They breached the Glittering City.”
“How?” Daniel asks.
“I don’t know.” The older man tears his eyes away from the scene to look at us. “Honored Bride? Are you injured?”
“Why are you—”
“You’re bleeding.”
I look down to find my dress covered in blood.
I exhale—unable to believe my eyes—and reach down to press my hand against my abdomen.
“Are you hurt?” Daniel asks. “Kelendra! Tell me if you’re—”
“I’m not,” I say. “It’s… it’s not my blood. It must be from one of the Dames.”
“So you’re all right?”
All right? I think. All right?
I can’t help but laugh.
Daniel looks at me like I’m mad, the man who’s saved us like I’m a monster.
How, I wonder, can I be all right when someone just set off a bomb outside our wedding venue?
I tremble as I exhale and let out a strangled sob as tears come to my eyes. I blink, stunned, as I think of Ceyonne, of Wu, of the other Beautiful and Handsome Ones who were inside, and pray for their safety. Whatever happened to Mothers Terra and Merissa I cannot be sure, but right now, all I can be thankful for is me and Daniel’s safety.
I reach out.
He takes my hand. I take his.
I tighten my hold around his palm as we go racing through the streets, toward a location that is further away than I could have ever imagined.
“Where are we going?” I dare to ask.
“A safe zone,” the man next to us says. “It’s protocol.”
“For what?”
“A terrorist attack.”
I blink.
A terrorist attack?
Why would terrorists want to attack our wedding?
Unless—
I swallow.
Unless, I am loathe to think, they were specifically targeting us. The capitol.
“The Process,” I whisper.
Daniel can only stare.
* * *
We advance through the streets of the Glittering City with speed granted only by the absence of traffic on the roads. Scared, witless, and still trembling, I cross my arms beneath my breasts and try my hardest not to shake for fear of causing myself even more distress.
“Hey,” Daniel says. “Are you all right?”
“I’m okay,” I say. “Are you?”
Our eyes meet across the space between us, and I see a pain that I wish no one ever has to experience. There is a distance in his gaze—an absence born of war-torn worlds—that causes me a certain grief. In this moment, I can acknowledge that this is
the closest he’s been to the war; and while I feel compelled to reach out and touch him, I refrain from doing so for fear of upsetting him further.
Some men, Mama once said, come back from war scarred—not in matter, but in mind.
This knowledge, gifted to me by a woman whose husband had gone off to war years before I was born, comforts me, for at least I can give a name to something like this: the Battle-Borne Bane.
Carefully, I extend a hand.
Tentatively, he extends his back.
When our palms touch—when our rings clink together—I curl our fingers together.
“We should be nearing the safe zone soon,” the man seated with us in the back seat says.
“Will there be clothes there?” Daniel asks, centering his gaze on the gentleman who undoubtedly saved our lives. “My wife is covered in blood.”
“That I cannot tell you, my friend.”
Daniel says nothing. Rather, he grinds his jaw together, and seems ready to move in on the man in the moments after his dismissive response.
“I’m fine,” I say, and somehow force a smile. “Don’t worry about me.”
“How can I not?” Daniel asks. “You were closer to… her… than I was.”
At this, I can say nothing—not because I cannot speak, but because I cannot argue contrary. He’s right: absolutely, one-hundred percent right. Had those SAD agents not been between us, I would’ve been the primary target for that crazed woman’s explosive device. And if that had happened—
I shake my head.
I don’t want to think about it, or even begin to imagine it, but it comes anyway, to the point where I begin to tremble once more.
Outside—in a city that seems newly strange and even more threatening—I watch as the buildings taper out, decreasing in size until finally there is nothing but vacant lots which proudly proclaim they are for sale.
It isn’t long before we come to a halt.
“What’s going on?” I ask, panicked over the fact that we have stopped in the midst of a dangerous situation.
“We’re being cleared,” Daniel says.
“What?” I ask.
He points.
I narrow my eyes.
I see, in the distance, the same type of tall concrete wall that separated us from the desert, as well as a tower that is capped with a dark blue point.
“There’s SADs up there,” I say, instinctively recognizing it as a lookout post.
“Yes,” Daniel says, his cloudy eyes brewing with a newfound storm. “There are.”
Swallowing, I lean back in my seat just in time for a Dame to appear outside the window. She leans forward, peers inside, and signals someone further up with a hand gesture before shouting, “Clear!”
We begin moving shortly thereafter, and while I cannot see what exactly we are moving toward, we pass beneath a concrete archway and into complete darkness.
A moment later, the vehicle stops.
Floodlights burst into life.
SAD agents surround the vehicle.
A great clang, followed by a crash, sounds behind the vehicle.
Then the door is being opened by none other than Revered Mother Terra—who, though looking worse for the wear, is very much alive.
“I thought,” I begin.
“I was dead,” the woman finishes. “No. I’m not.”
She extends a hand toward me.
Unsure what to do, I take it and step out, only pausing for a moment to look back at Daniel as he follows in my stead.
The Revered Mother takes hold of my arms and looks me in the eyes before leaning forward and asking, “Are you hurt?”
“No,” I reply. “I’m okay.”
“You look like you just ran through a rebel battlefield.”
I blink, unaware of how or even if I should respond.
Daniel presses a hand against the small of my back and says, “We’re sorry we didn’t wait, Revered Mother. We were scared.”
“As you should rightfully have been. Rebel activity does not often occur within the walls of the Glittering City, nor do they usually possess such… inventive equipment.”
“What’s going to happen now?” I ask.
“You will wait here for the time being,” she says, turning to beckon toward a small flight of stairs atop which lie a multitude of cots. “It’s too dangerous to transport either of you at the moment, so you will remain here while our agents and seekers sweep the streets to ensure that there are no further threats.”
“Seekers?” I ask.
“Drones,” Daniel replies. He then continues by explaining, “They’re flying machines that are controlled at a distance. They’re faster, equipped with stronger weapons, and can access areas that the SADs can’t.”
“Exactly,” Mother Terra says. She gestures to the stairs once more and says, “Go, Beauty and Grace. You obviously need to rest.”
I cannot argue with that, and for that reason lift the tattered remains of my skirt and make my way up the steps, careful not to trip upon the concrete as I ascend toward the upper level.
When I reach the top, I am immediately assaulted by the weight of the day, and feel far more weary than I ever have before.
“This shouldn’t take too long,” Daniel says as he comes up behind me. He sets a hand on my lower back once more and leans forward to whisper, “Do you need anything?”
I don’t, other than sleep, and for that reason I shake my head.
I stand at the top of the stairs for several long moments, contemplating the events that have taken place throughout the day and my near-death experience, and allow them to sink in before turning, making my way toward, and sliding onto the cot arranged along the wall.
The moment my head hits my pillow, I am instantly falling asleep.
“Daniel,” I whisper, extending my hand toward him.
I feel his fingertips grace mine moments before I pass out.
* * *
I sleep for what feels like hours within the suffocating and claustrophobic safe zone. Burdened by nightmares, and reeling from the events that have taken place throughout the day, I awaken only to find that Daniel is no longer sleeping in the cot across from me.
“Daniel?” I ask, blinking in an attempt to clear my eyes. “Are you there?”
No response comes.
Frowning, I push myself upright and stretch my arms over my head, only to find that light is no longer being streamed from the fixtures above, but from the world beyond the compartment. I am instantly struck with a sense of unease—not because I am simply alone, but because I am now exposed to the outside world.
I grimace, shiver, try my hardest not to cry out.
That is when I hear voices not far from me.
“Are you sure we’re going to be safe here?” one asks.
“You mean in the city?” another replies. “You’re in the safest place in the entire country. You’d be a fool to think otherwise.”
I push my legs over the side of the bed and begin to descend the stairs, encroaching ever so swiftly toward the bright sunlight beyond the compartment’s raised gateway.
“I’m not a fool,” a voice that is obviously Daniel’s replies. “I’m just… scared. That’s all.”
“Scared,” the opposing voice—whom I can now discern is a woman’s—offers. “Ha.”
I push forward until I stand in the threshold, and can see what lies beyond the compartment we have slept within.
In the distance, I can see Daniel, as well as a SAD agent who is looking down at him from her impressive height of six feet. He doesn’t see me at first, and in this moment I can see that he is scared. When finally he does turn his head to look at me, he sighs, waves his hand, and calls, “I’m here!”
I nod and step forward.
“Are you all right, Beauty?” the SAD asks, turning her head to face me.
“I’m fine,” I reply, then turn my attention on Daniel. “I was just scared when I woke up and my… my husband wasn’t there.”
&
nbsp; “I’m sorry,” he replies, stepping forward. “I shouldn’t have left you, especially considering everything that’s happened today.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “It’s been a long day.”
“Yeah it has,” he says.
We both remain silent for the next several moments. During this time, the SAD agent maintains her concentration on the areas in the near distance. Though there is little to see beyond warehouses filled with who knows what and a monstrous steel gate that seems to be impenetrable, the barrenness of our surroundings gives me hope that we are safe—at least, for now.
In the absence of conversation, Daniel reaches up to undo the first few buttons on his suit, then parts his collar to allow air on his upper chest. He then wipes the sweat from his brow before turning his attention to the nearby Dame and asking, “When are we leaving here?”
“As soon as a transport arrives,” the Dame replies.
“And when will that be?”
“It could be soon. It could be hours from now.”
“Hours?”
The SAD nods. “Yes,” she says. “They’re working to ensure that there are no Fanaticals upon our route back to the Spire.”
“So that’s where we’ll be going,” Daniel mutters.
“For now,” the Dame continues. “Only a Revered Mother could tell you what will occur thereafter. For now, though, I’d recommend that you return to the bunker. You’ll be safer there. Plus, it’s cooler.”
“There’s no air conditioning.”
“You’d be surprised how many people live without air conditioning,” she says, then turns her head toward me.
Daniel looks from me, to the Dame, then back to me again before swallowing. It is obvious that he has only just realized the circumstances I have come from, and for that reason, blushes before stepping forward, taking my hand, and saying, “Come on.”
I follow without hesitation—knowing, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that there is no reason not to follow him in light of our current predicament. The Dame is right. The sun is beating overhead, and its rays are imparting heat that I would rather do without. At least within the bunker there is shade to hide within.
As we pass into the bunker, then ascend the short flight of stairs to the row of cots, I briefly consider what will happen when we arrive at the Spire and shiver.
