I awoke on the couch in the living room with something wet on my face, then a low whine. Pepper’s nose brushed against my chin, her tail thumping hard against the wooden floor. As I sat up to scratch the back of her ears, a sharp pain ran through my shoulder. I winced and instinctively touched it, which was patched up with thick white bandages. A brown stain sat in the middle from where the wound was.
“Hey, old girl,” I said, giving her ears a good massage.
The pitbull nuzzled her head against my side, trying to climb on the cushion with me, which made me chuckle. She was too big, unfortunately. The sound of footsteps grew louder when I got to my feet and rubbed my eyes. Janice came in the room, setting a few packages on the main table. A folded newspaper was clutched tightly in her hand, and she waved it back and forth besides her red face.
“This heat!” she exclaimed. “I made all of my workers leave an hour early. There isn’t a single cloud in the sky; it’s just the bare sun out there.”
I pulled off my sweatshirt and shoved it deep in my backpack, my blue shirt underneath damp with sweat. Outside, there was nothing but dead grass and trees. I didn’t know how far of a walk it was to the nearest city.
“Good morning,” I said.
”Afternoon’s more like it.” A hint of laughter appeared in her eyes. “Right after I patched you up, you were falling asleep on me. You called out a few times in your sleep. Maybe a bad dream or something?”
Blood rushed to my face. “I’m so sorry. Really, I am. I should be going...I have to go. Thank you for everything, you’ve done so far, I truly appreciate it. I didn’t mean to wake you up, and it was wrong for me to spend the night here without you even wa—“
Janice scoffed. “Hush. You looked exhausted. Let me fix you something to eat, at the very least, before you go on your way. And what about your work schedule? Don’t be in such a rush. The world is still here with you. I don’t have a car to take you anywhere, but I have access to a map so you can go to town, okay?”
“The window,” I murmured. “I have to pay you back.”
To my surprise, she began to laugh.
* * * * *
Navu, a city fifteen minutes away from the woods, had somewhat of a small population. The Red Mamba were at every corner and had easily gained control over the territory. Even though the sun beat mercilessly down my back, I kept my sweatshirt on, and wore a mask with my hood pulled over my head. Deep into my right pocket was a large amount of rupees that Janice had supplied me. I had tried to tell her that it wasn’t necessary to give me the money.
There were a lot of demolished, blown up buildings, and the asphalt roads were full of potholes and deep cracks. It was obvious that whatever struggle had ensued here didn’t last very long. Abandoned cars were parked everywhere, although the streets were full of people wandering in the rubble. Shattered glass littered the sidewalk, and graffiti marked the empty stores nearby. It wasn’t until I saw a long line of people waiting in front of several Red Mamba trucks did I begin to feel sick.
The Khonie, wearing some sort of gray prison uniform, stood at gunpoint by the civilians, who were eagerly shoving them forward and yelling at them to move faster. A whole crowd of people were struggling and fighting with each other. It was a wild scramble to see who would get to the tents first. The Red Mambas stood close by, where hundreds of packaged water bottles were stacked neaty in a row. Several red tents were perched above the soldiers who were guarding the supply. Not every civilian had a Khonie with them, but the line was so long it stretched out for miles.
A heavy gunshot made me jump.
One Khonie prisoner was sprawled out on the ground, a dark pool of blood leaking out from his head. The civilian who had tried to turn him in had a horrified look on his face. An older general, twisted with age, spat at the corpse. Some of the soldiers began laughing as they fired several more shots at the Khonie, before dragging and dropping him into a ditch full of decaying bodies.
“Next!”
The line moved forward, replacing the previous civilian’s spot with a woman and a child who had two prisoners with them. After both Khonie were inspected by the Red Mamba authorities, the civilians received several large packages of water, which they balanced on their heads. Their hostages were placed back onto the trucks, struggling and shouting.
“If they won’t provide you with the water you deserve, they’re not worth anything,” a soldier yelled. “They deserve to share the air you breathe.”
Some people hollered out in agreement. I turned and walked down one street after another as fast as I could, suddenly feeling cold underneath the sweltering heat. It made no sense to me. Only a few months previously, my platoon had to pry the Khonie from the civilians, but now they were giving them in freely. The nausea got so bad that I leaned against one of the trash cans in a dark alleyway and took several deep breaths, closing my eyes for a moment.
Think, think.
I began to pace back and forth. Portia was quite a journey away from this city, that was for sure. I could find a way to get in and try to sneak into their water plant without being detected. Even though I really wanted to find my mother, that would have to wait. Going there on foot would be impossible. I needed save up and buy a car, but I didn't know how to drive, and worst of all, I would have to submit paperwork. That would be a dead giveaway, and Baldwin would snatch me right up.
If I was sent back to Jova, I wouldn’t know what to do.
* * * * *
It was the beginning of a sunset when I approached a worn, broken down apartment building. Several people were sitting outside and smoking cigarettes, laughing and cussing amongst themselves. Probably teenagers, which was kind of intimidating. I felt relieved that they paid no attention to me as I made my way up the cracked concrete steps to a shabby lobby area. The walls were covered in cracks and odd colored stains, and a musty smell filled the air. A dusty vending machine sat in the far end of the hallway.
“Can I help you?”
I turned around. A short, chubby man with thinning white hair stood behind me. His veined hand grasped a cane, and he held some sort of notebook in his other one. He took off his glasses and had to squint to see me properly, before adjusting his overalls.
“You got any rooms available?” I asked, fidgeting with my baggy sleeves. “Is there a way I can sign a lease?” My heart was beating like a drum. If he asked for ID, I was screwed big time. Then I would have to sleep outside.
“A lease?” he snorted. “That’s not the issue right now. People come and go, and I’m so caught up in all of this madness I can’t catch a fuckin’ break. There’s no running water here, so if you want to bathe, you have to find a way to do it in the woods. And then you got—“
I pulled out the rupees Janice provided me. “How much do you charge?”
His eyes lit up at the sight of the money. “It’s only two hundred, but put that away before others see it. You need that, now.” The old man pointed at the stairwell. “I’m the landlord here. Unfortunately all of our rooms are filled up. But there’s one in the basement, near the janitor’s closet. It ain’t the prettiest place in the world, but maybe you can manage.”
For the first time in weeks, I felt a glimmer of hope.
* * * * *
It took me three days to scrub it down.
Room 1C, that was my number.
The key the landlord had given me was rusty at the edges and it took three tries to open the door, because it got stuck. The carpet was sticky and brown, and the ceiling looked the exact same as it did in the lobby area. It was so small I could touch both walls opposite of each other with my hands. I had to pool in the rest of my money to buy a small mattress and a mini fridge that worked most of the time, which were not easy to find. Mice ran rampant in the room, and their shadows comforted me.
It felt strange being able to walk around the city on my own, even though I made sure to stay far away from soldiers. I didn’t need to go out and see the lines and crowds of unemployed people dragging the Khonie prisoners out towards those trucks. So I stayed inside a lot, drawing and writing countless ideas I had to get back to Portia until the floor was covered in wads of notebook paper. I went through several packs of cigarettes in one day; hoping the smoke would cloud my mind as well.
Most of the time, I managed to keep my abilities under control. My breaths were so heavy they shook my entire body as I laid down on my back; my fingers digging into the carpet. I swung against the wall, hitting the plaster over and over again until my fists were bruised and bloody.
Sitting alone at the table in my dark kitchen in the evenings and staring at the food in front of me only made those nights seemed like an eternity. I picked up my fork and pushed it into a dried clump of rice, keeping my head low. The silence only made the heaviness worse.
Outside, the wind chimes clanged against each other, and I could hear people talking and laughing on the streets as they walked by after a day of work. I hated hearing their voices, because they would soon be able to share meals with their families in their homes. I hated seeing leftovers in my fridge, because there was no one else to prepare food for. I often ate the second portion, slowly chewing; although I wasn’t hungry at all and my weight shot up—I gained an additional fifty pounds due to how my clothes didn’t fit me as well as they used to. I mindlessly ate a frozen family sized macaroni and cheese straight from the baking pan with a dirty fork, two full sized bags of potato chips, and polished it all off with a half liter bottle of cherry soda. While gnawing on a chocolate bar with almonds, the sun seemed to dip faster in the side.
The sight of the empty chair across from me made my throat tighten and nose burn. When I finally laid on my side on my mattress, I pulled the blankets over my head and curled up in a ball underneath them, tightly hugging my knees. I let my eyes adjust to the dark, listened to the air conditioning turn off.
And of course, wait for the sun to come up.
Sleep did not come, but that was never a surprise. When I climbed out of bed a few hours later, drenched in sweat, I gazed at my hands. The voices of people outside grew louder, and I walked to the window and perched up on the ledge, my bare feet curled around the windowsill. Frost slowly spread from my dirty soles out on the wall. I watched them walk with their loved ones. I didn’t realize how wet my face was getting.
The enormous sea of torn newspapers, clothes, cigarettes packs, soda cans, and dirty plates covered the stained carpet, which I could barely see anymore. I waded through them. My blankets were strewn across my yellowed mattress—how long had it been since I washed them? Couldn’t remember the last time I had taken a bath or brushed my teeth. The aroma of decaying food would’ve been enough to make others vomit, but I could hardly smell it. Had no energy to clean up, just remained still. I was fatigued, but couldn’t sleep. Just rested my head against the wall and remained in the dark. Yet I wondered why it was so unbelievably warm and stuffy in the room.
I laid shirtless on my back upon my mattress, beads of sweat pouring down my temples. Such headaches would seize me, and my eyes lingered to the ceiling. I saw the shadows and whispered hello to them. I hope they would come again. Their company eased the loneliness a bit.
The ache in my chest drove me to the point to which I found myself talking to the cracks and crevices in the plaster. Crouching down on my knees, I always had a bit of bread or cheese between my fingertips as I leaned my head sideways against the plaster. When I held my hand out, I made a light clicking noise with my mouth to convince the mice to maybe come closer. Seeing their little paws scoop up the unexpected treats and their whiskers move as they gobbled it down made me slightly smile.
From what little sleep did arrive, the nightmares I had about the destroyed Khonie village and the dead little girl still continued, and I would wake up with the floor, walls, and ceiling completely covered in ice and the room freezing cold. Clear icicles hung from above as water dripped on my forehead. I wrapped the blankets tightly around me and waited for it to melt. The filthy carpet felt soggy underneath my bare feet as I stood up, and my jeans and sweatshirt were completely soaked.
Janice always gave me food, even though I told her it wasn’t really necessary when she discovered how far my new place was from her home. The woman was simply too kind and generous. Didn’t she noticed how fat I had become? That my clothes were barely fitting? I had plenty of food to binge on at home, to numb myself with, and I was determined to eliminate this habit.
When I arrived at her shed at the beginning of the first week, she handed me a large ham and cheese sandwich, nearly wrapped in wax paper. She usually provided lunches for her workers during the day so that they wouldn’t have to try to walk all the way to town to find some.
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I liked working outside—the fresh air on my back and arms did wonders, and I enjoyed the soreness in my muscles.
It was during my first few shifts when I took the axe she provided for me and began walking into the fields. The scent of soil and moss filled the air, and I could hear Penny and Honey barking in the background.
Huge piles of heavy logs, around sixty to seventy, sat around the yard. They were tied down, and would be placed on the trucks by the workers tomorrow. The moon illuminated the sky; normally Janice would’ve provided me with a gas light, but I could see clearly. I actually felt glad to be wearing a sweater, since it was getting colder as the hours began to pass by.
I had made some progress, dragging out a thick log to a small pile I was building up when I reached for my sandwich. Right when I was about to take a bite, I stopped. A huge side of the left crust was missing. For a moment I looked around, to see whether it was a wild animal or something, but the trees were completely silent. It made no sense, as a stray dog or squirrel wouldn’t have taken only one bite.
But during the next several nights, the same thing kept happening. I sensed I was in someone’s presence, but there was nothing; only trees and grass and soil. Sometimes the contents of my bag would be jumbled or completely rearranged in a different way, but nothing was ever stolen.
Even when I kept my food close to me, the crust was always missing. Some days it was the left side; other days the right one. It wasn’t a huge chunk, but I could make out the faint shape of fingerprints against the white bread.
So one evening, out of curiosity, I left a generous portion of my sandwich, including the ham slice covered in mustard sauce, out in the open. I picked up my axe, gathered the wood I had chopped down, and began to leave like I was going to for real. Then I placed the bundle down and crouched low behind a bush. It didn’t take long before I heard the slight rustling of dead leaves on the ground.
A dark, hidden silhouette very slowly slipped out of the trees from the very back, not too far from where I had been working. My jaw slightly dropped open, as whatever I had prepared myself for completely shattered all of my expectations. Very slowly, the tools I held slipped out of my hands and landed in the grass.
The feet were completely bare, as almost as the rest of the body. They left prints on the soft mud as they delicately stepped over the jutting tree roots and tall weeds. An owl hooted in the distance, startling the figure, but only for a moment. Torn, filthy fabric loosely hung from the figure, and slipped halfway from the shoulders, revealing the visible collarbones and dozens of scars and bloodied cuts present on the dark brown skin. A wild, unruly curtain of matted, curly hair fell over the dark brown face, hiding the shadowy eyes that peered through the tree branches. The figure crouched, hid behind another tree, waited a moment, and then slowly crept out to the clearing.
A woman.
The most beautiful woman I had ever seen.
I didn’t know very much about women.
Hardly anything, in fact. I wished I did. I used to gaze at the store models in the wrinkled magazine pages I stole from Mr. Karin’s office at the bottom of his desk drawers. I often traced my fingers over their printed images; they had long flowing hair, red lipstick, and wore brightly colored dresses. On television they cried and fainted a lot, and men would shoot and kill each other in order to be with them, just to get cheated on again.
In my recruitment camp, most of the guys there bragged about how many women they could make out and sleep with in a week; other ones wouldn’t stop talking about their girlfriends at home, some grumbled about the expensive gifts they were forced to buy for them. And on the last day of training, many of their girls were indeed pretty. I often stared at the way a man held one in their arms from behind—the woman would snuggle closer to be in his protective touch.
Her face wrapped up in a gentle smile before she giggled due to her lover whispering something in her ear. An unexpected wave of jealousy would come over me. And many days after seeing that I what wondered would it would feel like to do that with a woman, to rest my hands on her hips, to breathe in the scent of her hair. To comfort her, to protect her. It was a strange urge I had—one that I never experienced.
But none could compare to this one; she looked like a work of art.
I held my breath, trying to deal with the sudden flush of heat and bewilderment on my reddening face. I had to look away for a moment to compose myself and snap out of these shameful thoughts, before slowly peeking out again. I knew she needed help immediately, and I needed to do something. Tell someone—someone trustworthy.
Or tell no one.
The woman was making her way towards the clearing. Despite her very thin and frail frame, I could tell that she quite naturally was a hard worker. Her curly mane got caught up in the wind—it tumbled over her frail shoulders, and I saw her profile—the freckled nose and cheekbones.
How pretty.
Infuriated with myself for such a thought, I tried to focus. How many Khonie were out here? I remembered Janice’s warning, but she looked like she was alone, and not in a gang.
I had seen the marks that the prisoners had in the city. Hers looked especially deep, the K shaped scar that covered the entire left side of her face. A dark, ugly chain that rattled with her movements tightly bound her wrists together, which dug deep into her broken skin. She appeared to be deeply malnourished, her prison uniform reduced to nothing but rags that barely clung onto her frame. When she quickly approached the tree stump and began ravenously shoving the food in her mouth, I noticed that a great multitude of freckles rested upon her body. She eagerly smacked and chewed, licking every single last trace of the mustard off of her dirty, calloused hands. It was as if someone had spilled brown sugar all over her dark skin. She had so many freckles, with her upper lip shifted in an unnatural way as a result of a cleft palate. But despite her state, her facial features were one that left me stunned.
No, no, no—-don’t think that. Stop staring at her, you idiot. She needs help. Find her help.
Blood suddenly rushed to my cheeks; it was impossible to pry my eyes away. I struggled to close my mouth. She finished the ham and slowly moved away in the trees. Her large eyes studied her surroundings as she kept looking back at the direction that I had gone, before beginning to run off. I stayed in my hiding place for a long time after she had disappeared into the bushes, the sound of the chain echoing in my ears.
* * * * * * *
It was impossible for me to sleep for the next few days, since I could not stop thinking about the hunger in the woman’s eyes. And each night, I would hurry to the woods as fast as I could, stuffing as many sandwiches as I could in my sweatshirt pocket. I didn’t dare tell Janice what I had seen, because I was well aware of what she thought about the Khonie. I didn’t want to frighten the young woman, and still kept leaving all of my sandwiches behind after each shift, which she eagerly feasted on. Every night I worried that death would soon catch up to her. I had already let that happen to a child at the village; I wasn’t going to let it occur a second time.
To my relief, she kept coming back.
She was as quiet as a mouse, wolfing down the food and examining the items in my bag with great interest. With both hands, she switched my flashlight on and off, a bright yellow hue illuminating in the darkness. The clicking noise made a smile appear on her face, revealing the very large buck teeth that she had; it was like a flower blooming in the spring time. She held up one of my pens with fascination and unscrewed it to let the ink dribble across and stain her fingers, before carefully tucking back it into its place. I sensed a warm sensation washing over me, seeing her curiosity unfold in front of me. I left a few extra sandwiches behind that were stacked up on top of each other, which she slowly tucked into her ragged skirts, still vigorously chewing, and ran off once she sensed my quiet footsteps.
Dazed by her incredible beauty, I would lean behind one of the woodpiles in the darkness, resting a hand against the logs. That was the hardest part for me; to see her leave.
The young woman didn’t seem to suspect that I was watching her, and I deeply enjoyed her company. But her current state was not easy for me to look at. After around a few weeks, I could no longer stay patient; I needed to find a way to get that chain off of her, which I knew was causing her pain every day. And she couldn’t live on processed cold cuts, bread, and cheese forever. She needed good food; a proper meal. How had she survived out here on her own? I wondered what had happened to her; but then I realized it came from people like me.
After I finished the late shift one evening, the Khonie appeared out of the trees as usual to examine what was in my bag. She appeared to be more sick this time, and was coughing a lot, but a look of intrigue settled on her face as she pulled out a worn book of mine, slowly flipping through it and observing its pages closely. She was so engrossed that she sat down and held it close to her face, her fingertips resting on the fine black print. I wondered if she could make sense of the words. Through the thick leaves and branches, her lovely gray eyes suddenly made contact with my own for the first time, a sharp contrast against the dark green vegetation.
I held my breath.
My God, what a beauty.
For a long time, we stared at each other.
Moving as quietly as I could, I slipped out from the shadows, the axe hanging loosely from my hand. I gently pushed a branch aside. She didn’t flinch until I accidentally stepped on a twig, causing it to snap loudly. Startled, she accidentally dropped the book, and it slid across the ground in the grass. Her eyes gradually widened at the full sight of me as she immediately scrambled backwards, causing some small pebbles to roll down across the uneven earth.
I slowly placed the tool down on the ground before carefully taking a step towards her. The Khonie remained still, watching my every move, which caused my heart to sink.
“Ou pa bezwen pè.” I held both my empty hands out to show her I was unarmed. “Mwen vle di pa gen okenn mal.”
She didn’t reply, just continued to stand, paralyzed with fear. I decided to immediately switch from my native tongue, quickly realizing that she didn’t understand. That she was not from this place, as she had been ripped from her homeland, unfamiliar with the language and its people here. I tried to push the thought to the back of my head, although I knew I was a bit rusty with my grammar, as I had not spoken the words of our mother language in a long time. But I could not stop staring at her face, the way her magical freckles complimented her nose, mouth, chin. I never knew it was possible for someone to be so beautiful.
The woman’s wild curls blew in the wind. I found myself helpless at the sight of it , but tried to snap myself out of my trance.
I bent down and picked up the fallen book from the ground. I slowly held it out to her, but she immediately jerked away.
”It’s yours. You can have it.”
I said these words softly; yet I could see how her entire body tensed up. A lump rose in my throat. Her bare feet were blistered and bloody, a clear indication that she had walked or fled thousands of miles to reach this place. My shoes crunched loudly against the dead leaves as I began to inch a bit closer, as she had stopped moving and continued to stare at me. Her chest was rising up and down rapidly, she kept looking from me to the axe. Then a terrible chill ran down my spine. She thought I was going to kill her; that I was trying to lure her with food so I could sell her for water.
A noise escaped from her mouth as she pointed from the book to herself, making a gesture.
There was nothing but silence. I studied her, hoping she could understand me. As she drew back, I came a bit closer towards her, my heart pounding, the spine of the book digging into my palms as I continued to hold it out towards her. The woman suddenly rushed behind a tree, her entire body quivering as she met my eyes again and peered out. One of her hands was tightly clenched around the branches.
I slowly took a few more steps forward, the branches swaying above our heads. The moment my shadow fell upon her, she immediately scrambled away as far as she could, pressing her back against the rough wooden bark.
Fireflies danced on the tall grass around us.
“I won’t hurt you,” I whispered.
For a moment, she hesitated. Her hands were shaking quite badly, and I wanted to hold them in my own so that she would be comforted. My throat was so closed up it was hard for me to speak.
Several leaves and clumps of soil were stuck deep into her matted, unruly curls. Very slowly, I put the book down and held my palm out towards her. At first she drew away, but after a brief pause, she timidly began to take my hand, her eyes observing every move I made. A cool wind came, causing the tall grass around us to sway, and I could feel her muscles slightly relax under my hold.
I gently intertwined my fingers with hers.
The sensation of her calloused, muddy palm against my own, for the first time in ages, caused something fuzzy to rise inside of me. Underneath her caution, there was curiosity, but only for a split second as she continued to study our fingers. I inched a bit closer and slowly held the book out once more to her. Her eyes widened as she suddenly yanked her hand away from mine, the warmth on my palm extinguished like a flame. The momentum caused the book to fly out of my grasp and land in the mud with a splat, the wet pages still blowing in the air. She shielded both of her arms over herself and shrunk back, like she was expecting a blow. Before I could react, she had fled through the trees, running and tripping at the same time, startling a flock of birds as she disappeared in the dark.
”No, no, no! It’s okay! Please…”
Where she had gotten the strength to take off despite how weak she looked, I had no idea. I took a couple of steps forward through the thick bushes, my heart sinking. It suddenly felt very cold, and the wind blew a little bit harder.
”…don’t go.”
The only thing I could hear besides my voice was from the wind rustling the trees and leaves. An owl hooted in the distance, mixing in with the sounds of crickets chirping. I stood there for a long time, before slowly sinking to my knees, watching the damp grass sway beneath me on the ground. I knew I should’ve waited a little bit longer to plan out how I wanted to approach her.
I didn’t blame her at all for being afraid of me, yet I felt a growing ache settle in the pit of my stomach. It had been wrong of me to get too close. There was nothing I could do but pick up my things and leave. I strained my ears for any sort of movement; maybe a glimpse of a shadow. But there was nothing but the pinkish orange sky, and I could hear the sound of the other workers coming in to start the day’s work. And it was unlikely that I would ever see her again.
For a moment, I only kept my eyes on the ground as I began to gather the wood. Mr. Karin had been right; I was capable of bringing nothing but pain to others.
* * * * *
There was a strange hole in the rotting carpet in my dark, empty apartment. I lightly ran my fingertips across the surface of the muddy book, tracing the cover, resting my head sideways on the surface of the table. I studied the title from behind my hair.
The warm dawn light fell on the dark large gap. At first, I tried to ignore it; I didn’t want the landlord to get on me about property damage, so I tried my best to cover it up by kicking the loose piece of fabric over it. Something odd caught my eye. Instead of the floor, there was a metal space. When I touched it with my fingers, it felt smooth and cool.
Despite my instincts telling me not to, I got on my knees and began pulling up more of the disgusting carpet, ignoring the funny smell that rose in the air.
It appeared to be some sort of square door.
With one hand, I pulled at the dull metal ring. It took a lot more effort before I felt the latch door budge. After five minutes, there was a screeching sound, and dust flew in my face as I managed to open it.
It was pitch black inside. Using a flashlight, I climbed down the little ladder. Every corner was covered in giant cobwebs. It looked like a small storage room that had been carpeted over, even though the space was rectangular. Some old glass jars and expired canned food sat on the misshapen wooden shelves. It was an odd building design, and I wondered why the landlord didn’t tell me about this.
But then again, nobody ever told me anything.
Then an idea came to mind. The space looked like it could comfortably hold enough room for around four to six people. I tried to imagine how many sleeping pallets I could fit in here. As I stood on the ladder, the rungs squeaking underneath my weight, my mind wouldn’t stop racing.
I grabbed my bag and sprinted out into the dimly lit hallway.