The Wounded

I fell asleep in Joseph’s lap, dreaming of my mother and Orry. A small girl clung to my mother’s leg, Orry sat on my hip, the walls around us crumbling. Mother smiled and pushed the girl towards me, before she walked backwards and disappeared into tumbling clouds of concrete-grey dust.

The air was as a cold as an icicle stabbing my eyes when I woke. I lay half in a sleeping bag, my bare leg poking out the side, I pulled it in and shivered. A bug buzzed near my face, and I slapped at it lazily. This could have been an ordinary day. A day in the life of someone else, who camped and breathed in the mountain air without it feeling like poison. My body shook a little as I remembered why I was here and what I was pla

I could almost feel both children’s hands in mine. I clawed my way from my dream and stretched, watching the others stir from their last safe sleep.

Rash sauntered up behind me and slapped me on the back. “Ouch!”

“Hurt me more when you did it to me,” he said as he came to rest next to me. “God, look at that guy,” Rash said, pointing to the river. “Such a show off.”

Joseph stood waist deep, his back to us. The water rippled around him, unsettling the mirror image of the scruffy pines scraping the blue sky. I smothered a gasp, as I let my eyes wander over all of him. One side was bruised, like a large, purple hand gripped his ribs. It spread under his arm and towards the dent of his spine. But these shapes only made him look more beautiful. A map of experience. He dipped his head in the water and let it run over his face and mouth as he walked back towards the camp. I bit my lip so hard it hurt.

Rash’s laughing brought me back to reality. I stomped on his foot. “Stop it,” I whispered sharply.

“Sorry,” he said between his ha-ha-ing. “It’s just sometimes I forget how much you are like me until I see you act like that…” He placed his finger under my chin to shut my gaping mouth.

I glared at him to stop giggling like an idiot as Joseph approached.

Joseph eyed Rash’s gri

I waved him off, remembering my last bathing experience. I wasn’t anxious to get back in the water. “Nah,” I said, looking down at my weird skirt and bodice ensemble. “I might change my clothes though.” I stood up, swishing my hips and letting the skirt billow around me.

They both laughed at me, Joseph saying, “Good. It’s not really your style.”

I untied the bodice, feeling my torso relax, like letting the air out of an overstretched balloon, and threw it at him. “Put some clothes on before you freeze to death, you’re making Rash feel inadequate!” I snapped.

With a devilish look, Rash raked his eyes up and down Joseph’s half naked body and let out a low whistle. “And how,” he said, as Joseph arched his eyebrows at my odd friend. “But whatever I lack in breathtakingly defined muscles, I make up for with sheer animal magnetism!”

Joseph shivered and pulled on a shirt, splotches of water showing through. I tried to hide my disappointment. He walked over to where Rash sat and grabbed his dark arm, pulling it up and fa

Rash jerked his arm back and shuffled away from Joseph with a hurt expression. “Hey man, would you mind not standing so close to me?” He started to laugh, his best toothy grin blaring in the pale morning, “It’s really bad for my self-esteem.”

Joseph responded by saying, “Shut your face!”

I grabbed my bag and wandered behind the cars to change, smiling to myself as I heard Joseph and Rash teasing each other.

I dug both hands into this moment and held onto it tightly.

We moved like sharp-edged shadows through the brush, weaving through towering trees dripping with moss and lichen, dancing lightly over the undergrowth. The fun of the morning was patted to our sides for safekeeping, because now we were getting closer and closer to the spring trap full of pointed teeth. It could clamp down on us at any second.

Then there was Olga lagging behind us, crunching everything in her path like her foot sought out the most brittle twigs and driest leaves, panting and waddling. Her pale skin grazed every tree. She got tangled in every blackberry bush. I could tell her Survivor companion was frustrated with her slowness, and he checked on her less and less as we approached our destination.

She huffed and I turned to see her delicately trying to pry a strand of prickles from her dark sweater. She looked like a peeled, hardboiled egg, shiny, white, and somewhat soft all over. But she gritted her teeth and pushed forward. I pursed my lips and walked back to her; Joseph stood waiting for me with his hands on his hips.

“You all right, Olga?” I asked, though I knew she wasn’t.

She swiped her forehead and looked up at me from her snagged position. “Fine. Fine,” she answered, finally freeing herself and stumbling forward, crushing a slender, white lily under her unsteady foot.

“Don’t worry, we won’t leave you behind,” I reassured her.

Olga looked at me curiously, her glasses a little fogged up, and smiled. “Oh, I know. That’s why I’m on this side of the wall.” She crossed her arms across her breasts, looking like a chicken ready for roasting, and toddled toward the waiting group. Matthew put his arm on her shoulder and spoke quietly. She nodded, and they continued walking while others scouted ahead.

Joseph chuckled next to me. “I like her.”

“Me too,” I said with a grin.

*****

We hiked long into the night, finally collapsing in a heap around eleven, when our feet felt more like throbbing wounds and our eyes only revealed slit-like images of the landscape ahead. We’d made good distance though, and it meant we were only about twenty kilometers from the wall of the Superiors’ compound.

I clung to the outline of a tree, picking away at the bark with my fingernails, hoping it would grow around me and anchor me to the ground. My feet could dig in like roots, and I wouldn’t have to move on from this feeling. I didn’t want to go from feeling safe to feeling terrified, but I could feel it building inside me. Aside from the two young wolves flanking us since we entered the forest, the journey had been quiet. I’d been able to laugh, smile. That would soon be over.

We slept close together. Olga volunteered to take first watch. No one argued, and soon everyone was sleeping where they sat, stood, and lay. I couldn’t get my eyes to close. There was no fire to disturb the night so the etched shadows were stronger, the noises clearer. But I liked it out here. I thought of Orry, knowing he was sleeping under the same sky as me, hoping Careen wasn’t filling his head with nonsense and Pietre wasn’t scaring him with his snarly expressions. I went over what I would say to Este. I sadly wondered whether I would get out of this alive. It didn’t matter. If we saved those children, it would be worth the sacrifice. But I promised Orry I would keep his father safe, and I intended to keep my word.

My hand rested on Joseph’s expanding and contracting chest. His face was a moonlit shadow, only the sharp outline of his jaw telling me it was him.

I wove my fingers together in a silent prayer and promised.

I’ll keep him alive.

*****

The rough bark of the tree I leaned against made a collage of my back. Some bits stuck, and others left deep imprints. I rubbed my eyes. The light was low over the branches, telling me it was close to dawn. I stood, yawning, turning in a circle as I stretched out my aching back. My whole body froze, responding to a rustle to my left.