The Wounded

He chuckled softly. “Nope, but we promised, right?”

We held hands and made our way to the closest checkpoint, rounding the ever-curving wall.

*****

By the time we reached the first surveillance point, the sun was casting horizontal lines of light over the wall. I shook my head. Even with the begi

Joseph put his hand to his brow and sca

“I don’t see anyone, do you?”

My eyes tracked the top of the wall, searching for the top of a hat, a head, but there was nothing. I bent down to scoop up some rocks to throw over and get someone’s attention. Joseph stood, legs parted, staring up at the sky. I rose next to him and turned to give him a handful.

Like a spot of blood, a pre-emptive color of what was to come, a bright red light wobbled in the center of Joseph’s chest. He took a deep breath in, still sca

I slid gently in front of him and put my hands in the air. I could almost feel the red light burning a hole in my forehead. Joseph had no time to react, but he carefully raised his hands too.

“Don’t shoot!” I shouted to the black gun poking over the top of the wall. It slowly rose, and the hands and face attached to it revealed themselves. A red-haired, freckled face with makeup lazily smeared over the cheeks appeared, his blue eyes frightened and hesitant, but his finger ready to pull the trigger.

“We represent the Survivors, and we have a message for Superior Este,” Joseph said loudly, trying to sound confident but coming off a little desperate.

The boy with the gun pulled back a little. I could see him weighing up whether to trust Joseph’s words or not. He thought about it, and then quickly re-trained the red light on my chest. The light wriggling and wobbling like a firefly scared to be bottled. I could feel Joseph stiffen behind me. His body wanted to react and get me out of danger. Then we’d both be dead.

I grabbed his wrists behind me, digging my nails in, forcing him to stay still. I found the young man’s eyes and stared into them. “We know why the babies are getting sick,” I shouted, watching my words sail up and slap the young soldier in the face.

His eyebrows moved down, framing his eyes like apostrophes. “Don’t move,” his quivering voice demanded. He turned his head and shouted down towards someone on the ground inside. “We need retrieval near scorch spot nine.”

Joseph took a step sideways and the boy’s eyes flicked up, a ping sounding out as hot metal whizzed through the air and landed deep in the ground at our feet. “I said, don’t move!” he screamed, his voice borderline hysterical.

We both nodded and stayed frozen in the mud, our eyes dancing frantically in our heads.

*****

Salim’s description of wide, sweeping gates with foreboding sculptures climbing the spires didn’t exist anymore, at least not at this end of the circle. I expected we’d be going through the wall or, if we had to, we would have climbed over it. Not under. Salim never mentioned this. It must have been new. Or some of the information in that weird man’s head had come loose and fallen out of his ear like sand.

We were still frozen, the gun trained on my chest, as the ground to our left started to shift. Leaves rustled and fell inwards towards an ever-widening hole.

Five grubby faces popped up, and men clad in black and gold uniforms climbed out of the hole. They surrounded us, gripping our arms and jostling our bodies. “Don’t fight,” I whispered to Joseph through gritted teeth. His eyes were fierce, his body barely controlled. One of them shoved me towards the hole in the ground. I pitched forward into the dirt, landing hard on the heels of my hands and knees. Out of the corner of my vision, I could see a leg clad in black wind back like a cog in a clock to kick me

“Rosa!” Joseph yelled in warning, straining against the weight and muscle of three soldiers trying to hold him back.

I rolled to the side and the soldier kicked the air, losing his balance and falling on his butt.

I should have kept my mouth shut, but that brain-to-mouth co

“Something fu

I scrambled up, shaking the mud from my hair. Joseph’s eyes were wild with alarm. I caught his gaze and whispered, “I’m ok,” as we were pushed down a ladder and into the ground.

*****

We were in a wormhole, a thick, wet, dirty hole only wide enough for two people to walk down at a time. My back was peppered with round bruises from being cattle-prodded with the point of a gun and my shirt was covered in mud. It smelled like the earth did under layers of dead leaves: rich, moldy, and damp.

Joseph was silent. We both were. We had told them we would only speak to Este. Right then, I would have rather been a worm, squiggling through the dirt with no other purpose other than to move forward and keep on wiggling. We were walking into a huge unknown, assuming the Superiors would be reasonable. We were counting on the others not to be discovered and hoping and praying Deshi was alive. My fingers wrapped around the fabric of my shirt and clenched in nervousness, as though gripping something, anything, would stop me from slipping down the flimsy ladder of hope. The current of all these unknowns was so strong, threatening to grasp us with frosty fingers and drag us away.

The ground underfoot abruptly changed from soft and spongy to hard, as our feet slapped against something firm and plastic. A light flickered on, and we found ourselves standing in front of shining metal doors.

One of the soldiers pushed a button with the end of his gun, unwilling to let go of it for even a second, giving me a sideways sneer as he did. The button lit up, and the doors glided open noiselessly.

“Basement One,” a creepy female voice uttered over our heads. My eyes slid towards the internal buttons as we stepped inside. G, B1, B2, B3. Cold pinched my shoulders. What was beneath us? I looked to Joseph, and his eyes showed the same amount of dread and confusion.

A pale finger pushed the ‘G’ button, and I sighed with relief.

The elevator shuddered, and the alien feeling of my stomach being left at B1 while the rest of me went upwards took over. I braced myself against the wall, glancing up at a poster of an All-Kind kid with a phone to her ear, with big, blue eyes and an unblinking, sinister expression. The slogan read, ‘What did you see? What did you hear? Report immediately.’ My God. I caught myself mid-eye roll and stopped.

The elevator came to a stop, and the doors opened with a ding. The silken voice overhead said, “Ground floor.” But all I could see was another metal door. This one was tin with a simple slide bolt, sunlight peeking around the edges.

One of the soldiers rattled the bolt, shoving his shoulder into the door while swearing, and lifted the door up so he could get it open.