I’m in bed and I’m starting to think I’m going crazy. A storm that big would have been the talk of the town. Maybe I’m suffering from heat stroke. Wouldn’t be the first time, but that’s just usually seeing spots. People who start seeing things other than spots aren’t usually far from death. The only reason I don’t think I’ve gone crazy is the feel of the leather between my hands. It’s the wallet of the headless corpse. I haven’t opened it yet. I don’t want to open it yet. When you put a name to the face, things start to get complicated. You start caring, caring is dangerous. Caring makes you careless and that gets you killed.
It’s cool beneath my touch and the creases sting in the scorching air. I fold open the brown leather wallet. A plastic I.D. is the first thing to greet my eyes. He looks young. His name was Charlie McTavish. That’s the only thing I understand. This I.D. has a large swath of information that I don’t understand or recognize. Our I.D.’s are simple. Face, name, age, residence, occupation, and status. This one doesn’t have occupation, status, or any words that I can read. The only thing I recognize is three black stars and the word Thales. Thales isn’t a place I know of, but I can read it. It might be a place.
Which is saying something considering that there are only twelve places on The Edge that are big enough to have a name on an I.D. The five on this side of the world are scorched by the Sun the majority of the time. Because of that, we have large swaths of sand, sand, and more sand. The only break in the landscape is the mountain-sized gravity wells and the barely populated cities around them. The other five are on the other side of the world where instead of sand you have ice because they only get four hours of sun. Then that leaves the ones on the poles. The North Pole is one of the only places on The Edge where they get twenty-four hours of Sun and the gravity well is built on a platform in the sea. The South Pole is the other place on The Edge where they get no Sun and the gravity well is built into an icy mountain. We live in Gravity Well #10. One of the better zones to live in. Everyone has a job to contribute to the Cause.
I start flipping through the rest of the various cards and green pieces of paper. Useless, useless, and useless. No ration cards. The only interesting thing I found was the I.D. card and this sleek green card with a black imprint of a double-sided jagged knife, it's reminiscent of what was on his shoulder. I throw the hard candies, I.D., and green card into the same hole where I had put the gun and boots. I grab the rest of the contents and make my way outside. After I’m a good distance away from the house I kneel next to one of the dunes. I make sure to wrap my hands in cloth before I slowly dig at the base of the dune and shove the contents of the wallet into the hole.
I plop down and relax against the shade of the dune. I try to find some respite from the Sun and the world around me, but it doesn’t last long. “You decide to become a sand mole?” I’d recognize that cranky old man’s voice anywhere.
I choke out a response through breaths. “Leon, aren’t you dead yet?” He hollers a dry smokey laugh. He’s probably the oldest person still alive on The Edge. His skin is like the cracked clay that we use for our pots. It’s what a lifetime on this side of The Edge does to a person. His hair is but silver wisps covering an aging man.
In a raspy voice, he replies back. “The day I die is the day I’m taking you with me.” He plops down right next to me as he shakes off the red clay stuck to his pants.
“How’s the quarry work going?” I try to make some conversation, it’ll be the same set of questions and answers. We go through the same conversation every time we see each other.
He spits at the sand. “Same old, same old. Dig a hole, carry a bucket full of clay. Rinse and repeat.” This time it’s my turn to give a dry laugh.
After a small moment of silence, curiosity seems to win out. “Do you remember what rain tastes like?” The question throws him off. It’s an unspoken rule. We don’t talk about what used to be. It distracts us from the Cause. At this moment I realize how old he truly is. It’s in the eyes. His deep blue eyes look towards the never-ending landscape of sand as if searching through his memories.
“I think I was a boy. It was before the Age Laws were passed. This was also when there was enough of us to power the gravity wells longer. I was sitting on top of the bunker. It was night. My older sister had just died. She apparently looked at an Overseer the wrong way. That face of hers was going to get her in trouble someday, I had just hoped it wouldn’t have gotten her killed. I was looking up towards the night sky, thinking, wondering. That’s when I felt it. Rain. It was beautiful. It was warm and wet. It tasted like salt.” Like salt? The rain I tasted was clean and fresh. It was like a breath of fresh air and relief.
I give a small sigh. “Sorry for dredging up sad memories.” He gives a small toothy smile.
“What memories aren’t?” The statement hangs in the air, a solemn truth.
The sky ruptures in a hum as the whole city and the rail network that connects the wells alight with a white glow. “Seems like we are going to get those four hours of night after all.” His body creaks and pops as he gets up.
“Gotta catch some shut-eye, I recommend you do the same.” I give him a small nod as he walks away. I stay seated a little longer as I watch the Sun plunge below the horizon. Darkness greets me. I guess I should also get going.
On the walk back, I expect the Sun to still be there taunting me, but all I see is the beautiful starscape above me. One more day. That’s how you have to live in this world. One day at a time. As I walk back I feel my eyes grow heavy and when they open again I don’t recognize my surroundings.
It’s night. There are dark rumbling clouds in the sky. The street is still moist from a previous rainstorm and the buildings are towering past the clouds. The breeze of the chilly winds force a shiver down my spine. I look around in awe at the buildings that are lit with the glow of electricity. The streets are empty, without a soul in sight. Where am I? Why is this happening to me? I feel more alive now than I’ve ever felt in my life. The world may be shrouded in darkness, but the colors are vibrant. It’s calling out to me. Before I can take another step the hum of the world around me flips me inside out and I’m back to where the sands rule. This time when the wave of nausea hits me I manage to keep my dinner, but not my balance.
I lay flat on the ground trying to stop the world from spinning. Which is ironic since that's the exact opposite of what we are trying to do. I feel empty. It feels like someone just showed me hope and then ripped it out of my hands. I need to stop. This is a dangerous line to go down, but I don’t even know what I’m doing let alone how to stop it. Do I want to stop it? A moment of silence passes as I mull over the possibility. What if I could control it? No! Stop thinking of fantasies. You live in reality. A harsh reality, but reality nonetheless. People get themselves killed chasing fantasies. Whenever someone braves the wilds outside of The Edge there's a saying we always like to tell: Don’t look, only the dead await. Pretty simple stuff. Only death awaits those that get caught up in the past. Eventually, I manage to stumble onto my feet. I am crazy. I’ve got to forget that this even happened. Maybe I should take tomorrow off? A dry laugh echoes out at the thought of taking a day off, it’s not possible. I can’t miss a single day, we’ll die of thirst or worse an Overseer. I stumble my way to the door and before I can open the door, I hit the floor again. This time not to my own volition.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
My first clue was probably the lack of air, the next was the scalding hands on my throat. I try to reach up to push them off but the weight on my chest and arms keep me pinned to the ground. I try anything to get them off. Kicking and screaming. I wouldn’t really call it a scream, more like sputtering. But they hold strong. I struggle again, but every movement feels sluggish until the struggle starts to burn every muscle in my body. Panic sets in as my vision starts to darken. The only thing I see clearly are two glowing red eyes staring down at me behind strands of long hair. It's almost like the Sun came down to finish me off itself. How dare you hope? How dare you dream? This is what you get for looking back. Only the dead await. As my vision fades I hear something creak. Suddenly I can breathe again. The grip on my neck loosens and the weight leaves my chest. I hear a body slump over to the right of me. I cough up a storm as my vision starts to come back.
Then I see Maple standing above the body with a pan in both hands. She has a surprised look on her face. “What do we do now?” She says with a tinge of worry and fear.
“We need to get her inside now!” I barely manage to catch my breath before I get back on my feet. Maple and I quickly grab one side each of the body and drag them straight into the kitchen.
We prop the body onto a chair and start tying her up. She’s wearing a dark red camo uniform with a black fire emblem on her shoulders. She has fair skin and straight short dark black hair. It seems to have been tied into braids, but I guess Maple knocked her hair and head all out of order.
“Who is she?” She asks as she finishes tying up her hands to the chair.
“I don’t know. She just attacked me when I got to the door.” I answer while making sure she is still breathing.
“Do you think she’s an Overseer? What if I just attacked an Overseer? What are we going to do?” She's starting to spiral and I don’t blame her, I’m barely keeping it together myself. Attacking an overseer means banishment. A fate worse than death. You’ll wander the sands and if you're lucky the raiders will get you before the Sun does.
I grab her hands and squeeze, trying to ground her to reality. “Don’t worry. I don’t think she's an Overseer. If an Overseer wanted to kill us there would have been more than just one of them. It also wouldn’t be this quiet. Why don’t you move into the bedroom and try to relax? I’ll see what she wants.”
She takes a couple of deep breaths and relents. “Okay, but I’m holding onto this.” She gestures at the frying pan before she leaves the room.
The woman starts to groan as she starts to rouse from her brief nap. “So, do you fancy strangling all the men that you see or am I special?” I ask as I lean on the counter.
“Don’t play dumb with me. Where did you take me? What do you want?” Her voice is filled with a calm calculated anger. The scary type that doesn’t let it control her, but she instead controls it.
“You’re at my house. Do you remember it? It’s right next to the lovely spot on the ground where you attacked me. Ring any bells?” I rub the now bruising neck.
“I don’t think a murderer has any right to be upset about being attacked?”
Now it’s my turn to be surprised. “Murder. Unless you count some sand moles, I haven’t killed anything recently?” I search her face trying to see if I recognize her, but I draw a blank.
Instead, I find her staring right back at me with her hazel eyes. Could’ve sworn she had red eyes. “Does Charlie ring a bell?”
I can feel the blood drain from my face as my face goes pale. “I didn’t kill him! I just took some of his things. He didn’t need them anyway. You know how it is around here, you do what you have to do.”
She studies my face trying to find a lie or some sort of crack in my facade. I’m not lying to her, at least not yet. “What game are you trying to play? I saw you steal his pass. Planning another attack? That pass isn’t going to be of any use. So how about you let me talk to your boss and we can work something out.” She starts to look past me at the doorway. She can’t see past me thanks to the shoddy curtain that was patched up from used clothes.
My face hardens as I think. She was there, she saw. Did she also see the storm? Was she the one shooting? What am I going to do with her? “So you were watching me? Then you should’ve seen that I didn’t kill him. His head popped off when I met him and then they shot him again when he was on the floor. Whoever did him in, certainly wanted to make sure he was dead.” I move over to put myself between the door and her.
“The storm didn’t let me see much, but I did see you after. I saw you steal from his body, with no remorse. What kind of person does that? I don’t understand why you would take that risk if you weren’t the one who killed him.” She’s visibly confused and a tad bit disoriented. I guess Maple hits harder than I thought.
Anger starts to creep in from the edges of my mind. How dare she question what I do to survive in this world? Who gave her the right to decide what’s right or wrong? We’ve all gotten our hands dirty one way or another. We do what we have to do to survive. No one has a moral high ground to stand on. Not anymore. But then I realized something. “You saw the storm?” Fear creeps into my mind. What answer am I looking for? What path will this lead me down?
“Of course, I saw the storm. Felt it too. Stop avoiding my questions. I want to talk to your boss.” Exasperated, she huffs and looks down.
She saw the storm!? She felt it too!? It was real. What does this mean? How do I wrap my head around this? First I see some freak storm. Then some random guy's head pops off right in front of me and let's not forget that unfamiliar landscape from earlier. Finally, we have some random lady who would’ve killed me if not for Maple. Whatever's happening to me isn’t good. It also probably doesn’t help that this kitchen feels like an oven. Wait, that’s weird, why isn’t she sweating? Hell, she looks comfortable.
Almost as soon as I go to question her even further, a knock on the door echoes in the silence. My blood goes cold. The only thing that fills the silence is the electrical hum throughout the city. Maple enters the kitchen with a frightened look on her face, still holding the frying pan in one hand. “It’s an Overseer.” Her whisper brings forth a fear that I quickly hide.
“Don’t worry. I’ll go deal with it.” I grab her by the shoulders and then turn my attention over to the tied-up lady.
“And unless you want all of us to die tonight, you won’t make a single sound.” I gesture for Maple to watch her as I head towards the front door. I take a deep breath and steady myself before I slowly open the front door.