The Wall

I fell to my knees, clutching my throat and coughing. Glancing at one of the knives at my feet, I let anger overtake reason. I wrapped my hands around it tightly and stood. I hated being tested. It eroded my skin and cornered my judgment, until all I could see was my need for retribution.

“She’s impossible,” he yelled at Careen. “I can’t see how this is going work.” He turned his back to me, digging his feet into the dirt like a bull about to charge.

I’d hoped I would hit the tree to his right—just graze his ear or something clever like that. I wanted prove to him I had learned something, that I wasn’t useless. I pulled my arm back and threw. The knife cartwheeled through the air. I stood there, hands at my sides, mouth agape, as it circled its way towards the middle of his back. I sighed with relief when it landed, handle first, between his shoulder blades with a satisfying thud and bounced to the forest floor.

I couldn’t help myself; I let out a triumphant, “Bah!” and fell to the ground laughing. Careen covered her mouth to muffle her giggles.

Pietre twirled around and I thought he was going to punch me in the face. Instead, a mean smile curled his lips. “Better,” he said as he picked up the knife and wiped it on his trousers. He placed it in my hand and pulled me up straight. He wrapped his fingers around my own and my breath caught unpleasantly. “Hold it like this and keep both eyes open when you aim.” He stood behind me, whispering into my ear, and I tried to focus on the knife and not the warmth of his hard body pressed into my back. “Ok, retract your arm and make sure you release it here,” he held my hand level with my face, “and not here.” He brought our hands down to my waist. “Good, now throw.”

I threw the knife and it landed just left of the center of the trunk of the tree. I let myself smile a little. Realizing he still had his hand wrapped around my own, I wiggled out of his grasp and turned to face him. “Thanks.”

He shrugged. “Just get on with it. We don’t have time for this.” He looked to Careen, who was beaming like a proud parent. “We don’t have time for you either but we’re stuck with you,” he said, pointing a knife at me accusingly.

He beckoned Careen over, nuzzling into her neck and turning my stomach. Was that what Joseph and I looked like to others? I hoped not. “Why don’t you show her how it’s done, honey,” he said into her hair. Ick!

Careen gathered up five short-handled knives and threw them in succession. When I looked at the tree, she had made a circle pattern. “Show off,” I muttered. Her ears pricked but she ignored me, strolling elegantly to the tree and plucking out the knives with ease. This was never going to be my thing. I felt sorry for the tree.

After I’d proved to Pietre that I could at least throw the knife so it landed blade first into a target, he let me move on to something else.

He fished around in his small duffle bag and I was worried he was going to pull out another weapon for me to master. Instead, he withdrew a handful of dark grey material and threw me a wad. On closer inspection, I could see they were gloves and little booties. “Put those on. This is mission specific and you must be able to do this if you want to come with us.”

I rolled my eyes. Who did he think he was, Genghis Khan? I put on the equipment, wondering what possible use they could have.

As Pietre shoved and cursed his way through the slapping branches, I watched his back ripple and tense with fascination. He was wound up tighter than a spring and I knew I was the one that wound him even tighter. He wore a dusty blue t-shirt and dark jeans, the standard canvas shoes wrapped around his ankles. He was not as tall as Joseph and not as broad. He looked like a Survivor, strong, lean, and ready to jump to action at any second. His hair was the part that amused me the most. He seemed to always need to be in control but his hair didn’t cooperate. Light brown in color, it was spiky and stuck up at all angles, like he had just rolled out of bed. He was forever trying to smooth it down. I wished he would leave it. It was the only part of him that seemed accessible and less hard. Careen followed him, her feet barely touching the ground as she walked. She was like a cat, lithe, beautiful, and slightly feral.

I, on the other hand, moved quietly but carefully, around the trees, under the branches. I inhaled and reveled in the smells of the woods. I treated them as I would my home, with respect.

I followed them until we found ourselves at the Great Wall.

Pietre spun around to face us, ru

“What?” I shook him free, looking to Careen for help. He pulled a cloth from his back pocket and clamped it to my wrist. His stare was intense and I didn’t like it.

“You’re bleeding,” he stated, wrapping a large gash on my arm quickly and tightly.

“Huh,” I remarked, fascinated with the fact I hadn’t felt a thing. I peeled back the cloth and the cut bubbled blood like a backed-up plughole. It was quite deep but I had no recollection of how I did it.

“You need to be careful; you’re not paying attention to your surroundings,” he snapped, irritated. “Remember, you have a low sensitivity to pain at the moment.”

“Are you concerned about me, Pietre?” I teased.

His eyes flicked to me disparagingly as he kicked off his shoes. He wasn’t concerned, just a

“Just help yourself, so I don’t have to.”

Help yourself. The words crushed me as I remembered the last time I’d heard them or thought them. I tightened the bandage over my bleeding wound, and wrapped a mental bandage around the oozing wound Cal had left in my head.

“Fine,” I said shortly. “What are we doing now?” I gazed up at the wall. It was in full shadow, with the sun hovering just past the turrets. It felt cold and oppressive. I didn’t like being this close. It still gave me the chill associated with being closed in. I’d managed to find some history books, books with real facts in them, during my stay in the hospital. The Wall had been built to protect the Chinese Empire from various threatening groups but also to control trade. The books also revealed there were bodies sandwiched between the great stones that made up the beastly structure. It was a towering graveyard.

Careen narrowed her eyes at me as she handed me the booties. “Put these on your feet and follow us.” I wondered what her chilly stare was about but I had no time to ask.

I watched as Careen and Pietre approached the wall and jumped suddenly, landing on the surface like two lizards. They scrambled up the wall, keeping their bodies pressed as flat as they could to the sandy, grey stone. I followed, slipping a little, but managing to keep my grippy hands and feet flush with the wall. They were both sitting between the turrets, legs swinging over the edge, when I got to the top, somewhat breathless, but my heart drumming in a fulfilling rhythm. That was much more fun than throwing knives.

They held hands. Careen made a point of leaning her head on his shoulder and glaring at me suspiciously. Her mood had changed since our altercation in the woods and I had the sense she was jealous at Pietre’s concern for my arm. I scoffed at the thought. Pietre was not interested in me, and I certainly wasn’t in him. We were just stuck with each other, as he’d said.