The Feral Sentence (Book 1, Part 2) (4 page)

“
Like
Fisher here,” Trim said, “I got seven years.” She leaned forward
and placed her elbows on her knees as though she were a summer camp
leader about to tell ghost stories around a campfire. “I was a
dealer… One night, I got a call from one of my boys asking me to
deliver. I trusted the guy, so I showed up at his place. There were
other guys there, though, fucked out of their minds. Long story
short, they tried to pin me down and have their way with me. I
always carried a pocket knife in my boot, and that night, it saved
me.” She zoned out, most likely reliving that awful night. “They
forced my face against the dining room table and ripped my pants
down to my knees, and I remember thinking… I’d rather die than get
raped. So I pulled out my knife and swung back as hard I could.
Next thing I knew, I was covered in red, and there was a guy lying
on the floor, gargling his own blood.”

I just stared
at her.

“
System’s fucking corrupted,” she added. “It was
self-defense.”

“
My
lawyer was going for manslaughter,” I finally said. Everyone fell
silent, waiting to hear my story. “My mom’s boyfriend… He was a
drunk. He attacked her one night, with both hands around her
throat. He would’ve killed her… So I found a frying pan in the
kitchen, and I swung it at the back of his head to knock him
out.”

“
A cast
iron pan?” Biggie asked.

I nodded.

She laughed.
“Damn, girl. Everyone knows those things are deadly.”

“
It all
happened so fast,” I said quickly. “I wasn’t trying to… Anyways, I
got three years.”

“
Don’t
sweat it, kid,” Flander said. “We’re not judging you.”

I forced a
smile.

Trim suddenly
slapped her knees, breaking the silence. “Enough rest, let’s keep
moving.”

“
You got
this,” Trim whispered.

I wasn’t sure
what I struggled with most—feeling pressured to feed a village of
hungry women or taking the life of an innocent animal. I’d never
hunted before, yet there I was, gazing down the length of my arrow,
aiming its pointed head at a wild boar. Its tusks were barely
visible, and I knew it wasn’t very old.

Aside from
fish, wild boar was the preferred meat among the women, Trim had
explained. It tasted like pork—the best pork I’d ever tasted—and it
fed many. The Hunters would walk for miles in search of boar. Male
turkey was also hunted on occasion, with females captured for egg
production.

“
Chin
up, now pull back,” Trim said.

I kept my eye
on the boar’s chest to aim for the heart as I’d been taught.

“
Release,” Trim hissed.

I let go of
the bowstring, and with a snap-like sound, fired my arrow directly
at the boar. It squealed, before quickly darting in the opposite
direction. Trim quickly tore the bow out of my hand, and without
warning, jolted forward to catch the wounded boar.

By the time we
caught up, Trim had stopped running. She handed me my bow, and
said, “Almost.” The boar was lying in the dirt several feet away
with an arrow protruding from its hairy neck.

“
Biggie,” Trim said, and at the sound of her name, Biggie
moved in. Just as Eagle had done, Biggie reached down and pulled on
the boar’s tusk, exposing its neck. She pulled a sharp blade from
her belt and began sawing through the animal’s thick muscle,
tendons, and bones.

I turned away
at the sound of its head being torn from its body.

“
Why do
you do that?” I asked.

“
It’s
respectful,” Flander said.

“
Cutting
off its head is supposed to be respectful?” I asked.

“
There’s
always a chance that the animal might still be alive. We take off
the head to make sure it bleeds out—to make sure it’s dead and not
sufferin’.”

I noticed my
arrow sticking out of the creature’s leg. I’d missed my target.

“
Let’s
head back before sundown,” Trim ordered. She led the way, with
Biggie dragging the boar by its hind legs across the jungle’s
uneven soil.

We were almost
at the Working Grounds—I knew, because I’d recognized the stream
we’d followed at the beginning of our hunt—when I felt a tap on my
shoulder. Everyone had stopped moving, and Trim was pointing across
the flow of water.

It was just
sitting there, at the base of a broken tree log, chewing on plants
as if nothing else in the world mattered. It was bigger than any
gorilla I’d ever seen at the zoo, with its thick, short-haired
chest resembling that of an armored knight. Its black eyes were
glued to us, and for a moment, it stopped chewing and just
stared.

I swallowed
hard. Why were we just standing there? I’d heard of gorillas
attacking humans, and who knew where this one had come from? Maybe
it was a mother. I noticed that the Hunters were all
smiling—something I didn’t see very often.

“
Beautiful, ain’t it?” Flander whispered.

It really was,
but the fear I felt toward the animal eliminated any excitement
within me.

“
Let’s
keep moving,” Trim said quietly, and she turned the other
way.

I couldn’t
believe I’d just seen a wild gorilla dozens of feet away from
me.

Flander was
still smiling ear to ear by the time we reached the Working
Grounds. She must have caught me staring at her because she laughed
and said, “In all my years.”

I cocked an
eyebrow. Had she never seen one before?

“
I seen
a black panther—just once, mind you—chimpanzees, cougars, wild
turkey, and birds of all sorts, but never once have I seen a
gorilla,” she said.

“
Me
neither,” Rocket said. “What a beauty!”

“
Are
there many around here?” I asked.

“
Probably,” Flander said. “Kormace is huge. There’s still
tons we haven’t seen. We like to stay close to the
Village.”

I was
beginning to understand why criminal sentences on Kormace Island
were so short in comparison to the duration of actual prison
sentences—survival was a daily struggle. In prison, all basic
necessities were provided and overall safety was
guaranteed—somewhat.

The moment we
entered the Working Grounds, everyone fell silent. But this silence
was not brought forth by our presence, but rather, by someone
else’s. She’d just entered the Working Grounds from the Village
path with Ellie underneath one arm and a long wooden staff
underneath the other.

She struggled
to move forward, her face contorting with every step taken.

“
Eagle!”
Rocket shouted.

Eagle glanced
up, her blue eyes resembling glass marbles underneath the
sunlight’s intrusive rays. Her lips curved upward at the sight of
Rocket running her way.

Trim and the
others were quick to follow, leaving the dead boar on the ground.
Even though I felt out of place, I followed too.

Rocket threw
her arms around Eagle, and although Eagle’s arms were busy
maintaining balance, she reached around Rocket’s shoulders with her
staff and held her tight.

“
You
okay?” Trim asked.

Several other
women had circled around us, curious to hear about Eagle’s recovery
since the attack.

“
I’m
okay,” Eagle said, shrugging, but the way she struggled to stand
upright proved otherwise.

“
Medics
never tell us anything,” Fisher said. “Everything’s always a big
secret.”

Eagle laughed,
her blonde hair dancing atop her head. It had grown a bit over the
last few weeks. I couldn’t imagine how hard it must have been
sitting in a cabin, secluded from everyone.

“
Just
how Navi is,” she said. “She says the more people talk about
something, the more power they give it. Guess she didn’t want
anyone talking about my injuries.”

“
Who’s
Navi?” I asked, turning to Flander.

“
Our
Medic—and before y’ask,” Flander said, “she named ’erself after a
video-game character—some fairy. ’Course the geek would turn out to
be the Medic.”

I smiled, even
though I didn’t really care where her name had come from.

“
Did
Navi tell you when it’s safe to start hunting again?” Trim
asked.

Eagle
regripped her staff and hopped sideways to straighten her stance.
“I won’t be hunting anymore.”

“
What?”

“
What?”

“
How’s…”

“
What
about…”

Eagle waved a
hand to quiet everyone.

“
I’m
just grateful to be alive… Got hit here,” she said, pointing at her
inner thigh, “and here.” She pulled the leather of her shirt over
her right shoulder, revealing a pink circular-shaped scar
surrounded by blue and yellow bruising. She made a fist with her
hand then stretched all her fingers into an open palm.

“
Can’t
really feel them,” she said.

“
There
was nerve damage,” Ellie said, her eyes lowering to the ground.
“Doesn’t look good.”

There was a
moment of silence, which was uncomfortable but required for the
absorption of Ellie’s news.

“
Does
Murk know about this?” Trim asked.

Eagle nodded,
defeated.

“
Murk’s
reassigned her to be a Night Watcher,” Ellie said.

“
A Night
Watcher?” I asked.

Everyone
turned to face me. It was as if they’d forgotten I was standing
behind them.

“
It’s
basically a glorified Battle Woman,” Rocket said, seemingly
disgusted. “They stay up during night hours and keep watch over the
Village while the other women sleep. There’s no fighting involved.
If there’re any intruders, they sound the alarm—well the
horn.”

Eagle scoffed.
“There’s fighting, all right. Fighting to stay awake.”

But no one
laughed. It was evident that being a Night Watcher was a task
assigned to those incapable of working any other job due to
physical limitations—like having the fat kid in a group of friends
“stand watch” while the other kids sneak into the teacher’s desk
drawers to steal candy.

Rocket moved
in again, leaning her head on Eagle’s shoulder.

“
I’m so
sorry, Eag,” she said.

Eagle
shrugged. “It is what it is.” She shook her head and laughed. “I
just feel sorry for you guys. You’re gonna starve without me.”

“
I’ll do
my best to make sure everyone keeps eating,” I said, although I
suddenly wished I’d kept my mouth shut.

Everyone’s
eyes turned to me.

Eagle raised
an eyebrow and eyed me from head to toe. “She’s my
replacement?”

“
No one
could ever replace you, Eagle,” Biggie said, casting a shadow over
all of us as she moved in closer. “But we did need an Archer, and
she was one of the chosen ones, along with Sun—and Pin and
Hamu.”

I knew she’d
held back from mentioning Sunny, and I felt a knot form in the pit
of my stomach.

“
Trim
can shoot.” Eagle crossed her arms over her chest.

It was
apparent that my being an Archer was the last thing Eagle would
have agreed to. I wasn’t sure whether it was because I was new to
Kormace Island or because I somehow rubbed her the wrong way. But
I’d never done anything to offend her—at least not
intentionally.

She was still
staring right at me, her eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared. I’d
always been taught to steer away from confrontation—to make friends
rather than enemies. Even though I boiled inside, wanting nothing
more than to ask, “What’s your problem with me, anyways?” I was
unable to. I just didn’t have it in me, which I knew would be my
downfall on this island.

“
Cheer
up, Eag. We’re having a celebration in your name tonight.” Rocket
nudged her.

“
Tegan
always makes the best brew during celebrations.” Flander licked her
lips and rubbed her palms together. I remembered Tegan. I’d
purchased soap from her in one of the merchant tents. She had a way
of mixing ingredients to create new items and potions. I wasn’t
quite sure, but I could only assume Flander was referring to
alcohol when she said
brew
.

“
A
celebration?” Eagle scoffed. “It may as well be a memorial… or a
funeral. I know how these things work. I defended the Village, and
now I’m a cripple.”

“
No
one’s celebrating your injuries,” Trim said sharply. “We’re
celebrating your bravery. You took out most, if not all of the
attackers that day.”

Eagle
shrugged. “Look, I’ll catch you guys later.”

Ellie shot a
glance at me before ducking underneath Eagle’s arm and moving
forward with her.

“
Don’t
pay any attention to her,” Flander said, leaning in toward me.
“She’s just hurtin’.”

“
With
good reason.” Fisher was quick to come to Eagle’s defense. “It’s
like being a gold medal Olympian and losing a leg. Eagle’s always
been our number one Hunter, and now she’s nothing.”

“
She’s
not nothing!” Rocket said.

Fisher rolled
her eyes. “In the eyes of the Village—yeah, she is. If you can’t
contribute, you’re basically a waste of space.”

Rocket lunged
forward and shoved Fisher back as hard as she could. Fisher tripped
backward several steps, but she somehow managed to stay on her
feet. She had a cryptic smile on her face as if amused by Rocket’s
lack of strength.