The Wall

“Nothing.”

“You know, if this is too hard for you, you don’t have to go. You could give up,” he suggested.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I snapped, wriggling around and trying to sway the tree. Maybe I could eject him from it.

“I would.”

I glared down at him and jumped to my feet, sending scratchy bits of bark and poplar buds towards his a

“Why do you hate me so much?” I asked.

He wiped his face and squinted up at me. Pursing his lips, he considered my question.

“I don’t hate you. But my mother was one of the Survivors that didn’t make it out of the mounds. So for that… I feel a little bit of payback is necessary.” Leaves dotted his hair and he tried to shake them off without falling from his perch.

I shifted my feet to disperse my weight better. I was shocked at this revelation but tried not to show it. My voice felt small, “So you blame me?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

“She died so you could live. I guess I wanted to make sure you made it count.”

I was confused. I didn’t understand where that left us. All I knew was I was trying as hard as I could. Grudging respect maybe? At least that’s how I felt. My lips curled a little as I realized I seemed to have a knack for having serious conversations in trees. I wondered if my life could get any more ludicrous. Of course it could.

I swung myself up to the next branch and muttered, “I’ll make it count.”

And I’m pretty sure I heard him respond with, ‘you better’ as he made his way down towards the sodden earth.

I climbed to the top of the tree. No one could reach me up there. I gripped the trunk and moved like a monkey, never staying put for too long until I reached the uppermost branches. I stayed there longer than I should have, letting myself sway in the breeze, willing my body to become nothing so I could float over the Wall. The pressure was weighing on me and I considered the fact that I might fail, that I wouldn’t make it count. I was overflowing and just wanted to be empty—if only for a second.

Ru

Careen’s voice pierced the silence. “Rosa, what are you doing up there? Don’t you need to pick up Orry?”

I scrambled down the trunk, ski

When I got home on day eleven, Apella was in my chair. I would say sitting but that’s not what she was doing, everything about her was set on edge. She was like a porcelain figure, her legs folded neatly, her composure perfect, her whole existence looking out of place perched atop a pile of Addy’s crocheted rugs. She looked down at her hands, which were clasped lightly in her lap, and then up at me through a curtain of blonde hair. I tried to smile at her but it came out all wrong on my face. How could I lie so easily to Joseph and not to her?

“Rosa, I’m concerned about you. You haven’t visited in a while. Is everything all right?” I could tell the words pained her. She was never one for sentiment and this was difficult for her.

I waved her off, “I’m fine.”

She rose delicately and wafted over to me, gently placing her cool hand on my cheek. “Please come see me before you leave,” she said sadly. I didn’t know what to say so I nodded.

SURVIVAL SKILLS

Finally I had something I could teach Careen and Pietre. Wandering through the forest, I picked out the various edible plants and showed them. The sun was sifting through the leaves and actually warming the earth slightly. Pockets of yellow pinecones moved like little, bearded faces poking out of the pine needles. The azaleas I’d pointed out to Orry had started to flower. It was beautiful but it was also a warning. If the weather was clearing, the Woodland soldiers may be ready to start their trek. They would begin their search for us.

Careen listened with interest as I tried to educate them, Pietre quietly fumed.

“See these?” I said, bending a branch towards their faces. “They’re sweet. A bit chewy but a good source of calories.”

Pietre eyed it with disgust. I let it snap back into place, hoping it would whip him as it returned.

“Why would I eat a pinecone if I can shoot a rabbit?” he asked, crossing his arms like a child.

Careen touched him affectionately and he flinched. A devilish look spread across his face. “I think it’s time we showed you how to hunt.”

I shriveled away from his stare. I didn’t want to hunt. Killing things was not in me. I knew that. I stood my ground. “I don’t need to learn to hunt; I survived out there for months, pregnant, eating only nuts and berries.”

He sneered at me. “You want me to sign off on your mission? Then you’ll hunt.”

Careen protested, “Look, I think she’s shown that she can handle herself out here. I don’t think…”

“Think?” he snapped. “Who asked you?”

She closed her mouth. I was so surprised at her. She could more than handle him. If she wanted, she could snap him over her thigh and toss him in the dirt. I didn’t understand why she would let him tell her what to do. Observing their relationship over the last week and a half reminded me of Paulo and Mother. It made me wonder if this was normal. If so, it made me feel like I was the undeserving wi

“I’ll do more combat skills if you want but I’m not hunting,” I said. I was sure if I killed an animal in front of him, I would burst into tears and there was no way I was going to let that happen.

“Fine,” Pietre said, his eyes burning.

I’d said I would try harder with my combat skills but I couldn’t help but argue with some of the more specialized moves Pietre wanted me to learn. I couldn’t see myself cartwheeling across the front lawn of my parents place and leaping onto the roof. Pietre had mixed training up in the last few days and we jumped from skill to skill like a test. It reminded me harrowingly of the Test at the Classes.

“I don’t see why I need to know how to disarm a man. Paulo doesn’t own a gun, none of the citizens do,” I said, crossing my arms and squatting over the fire I’d just made from nothing but a rock and some dried grass. “Look,” I gestured. “I can do this.”

Pietre sneered at me. Standing back, I could almost see the waves of anger rolling off him. “Yes, but lighting a fire won’t help you in the Rings. You need to be able to defend yourself if someone comes at you.” He stormed towards me and flung his forearm to my neck. Forcing me up with his other arm, pinching my underarm skin, he pi

I was much smaller than him, weaker, and a not nearly as skilled as a fighter. Of course he could hurt me! This wasn’t about some attitude adjustment I needed to make.

“Let me go,” I managed to gasp, although my breath was ru

He watched my eyes roll up. I was about to pass out. His eyebrows drew together as he studied me with morbid curiosity, like when I watched my neighbor kill a chicken. It was a spectacle to watch it run around with its head missing, even if it was disgusting. His face relaxed and he let me fall, throwing his hands up in exasperation, relenting.