The Feral Sentence (Book 1, Part 2) (5 page)

“
Enough!” Trim grabbed Rocket by the leather of her shirt and
extended an open palm at Fisher.

“
She
started it,” Fisher said, smirking at Rocket.

Rocket pulled
out of Trim’s grip and stormed off in the opposite direction toward
the Village’s path.

“
Why do
you do that?” Trim asked, turning her attention to
Fisher.

Fisher
laughed. “Come on, Trim. I was being realistic. You know better
than anyone that emotions don’t belong on Kormace, and emotions
aside, Eagle’s useless now.”

Trim clenched
her jaw, mulling over Fisher’s words. It was clear that she found
truth in them.

“
You’re
right,” Trim said coldly. “But Eagle still deserves recognition for
all she’s done, so I expect you all to be at the
celebration.”

Everyone
nodded and made their way toward the Village. I was about to follow
when I felt someone tap my shoulder.

“
You
should be proud,” Rocket said, her gaze fixed on the
waterfall.

I didn’t know
what she was referring to until I followed her eyes. Several women
had dragged the bloody boar across the sand to the side of the
waterfall where a bountiful garden filled with fruits and
vegetables was located. Beside this garden was a cage constructed
of branches filled with wild turkeys.

I remembered
Murk mentioning Farmers as one of the divisions of the Village, and
I realized that these women were responsible for our food and water
consumption. There were two women kneeling in front of the garden,
reaching into it and pulling out bits and pieces of either weed or
actual fruit—I couldn’t quite tell which.

There was a
water filtration system located beside the turkey cage—it was a
massive hole dug into the ground with some meshing or skin
stretched out above it. I had no idea how the contraption worked,
but I’d seen Trim approach it to fill her water bladder.

I looked away
when one of the women raised a carved blade and began tearing into
the boar’s flesh. “You shouldn’t watch that,” Rocket said. “The
last thing you want on this island is to be grossed out by meat.
It’s all we eat.”

“
I
thought you left,” I said.

“
I did.”
She smirked then opened her hand and revealed the piece of seaweed
soap I’d purchased from Tegan’s tent. “I knew you’d forget where it
was, so I grabbed it for you. Come on, I’ll show you where to get
cleaned up.”

I followed her
toward the waterfall on the opposite side of the bloody scene.
There was a gentle flow of water spilling out over several flat
rocks high above. Underneath this natural shower was a young woman
lathered in a silky substance, with her eyes closed, her wet hair
pulled back, her bare skin and small pointed breasts glistening
underneath the water.

“
This is
it,” Rocket said. She leaned in close then whispered, “Some women
still try to shave—others don’t even bother. Not like there are any
men to impress. Mind you, most women on the island learn to play
for the other team, if ya catch my drift.”

“
What?”
I asked.

Rocket ignored
me, and instead, offered me a flat. pointed rock, which had been
sharpened along one of its edges. “Nothing like a razor, but it
manages to get some of the hair. Just be careful.”

She raised an
arm above her head and revealed an evenly trimmed, short-haired
armpit. “Personally, I don’t like the long pit hair.” She glanced
at the woman who was now rinsing the top of her head, revealing
thick black patches underneath the pits of her arms. “Some people
don’t seem to care.”

I grabbed the
rock and thanked her.

“
When
you’re done,” she said, “just sit in the sun for a while. It’ll dry
you off.”

A little
farther away, lying in a bed of grass alongside the Working
Grounds’ pool of water were three naked women sunbathing.

“
Like
that,” Rocket said, following my gaze.

How was I
supposed to be naked around complete strangers? I’d never been the
type to shamelessly remove my top at the gym or change in front of
my friends. I’d always been self-conscious of my petite body. I
suddenly felt the urge to return to the Village, unclean but with
my pride intact.

“
I’ll
catch you later.” Rocket winked at me and turned the other
way.

I moved
farther down the side of the waterfall, away from the naked women,
and I slid off my top. I held both breasts in my hands, feeling
entirely vulnerable and exposed. With one hand, I awkwardly began
pulling at the rope of my pants, when a familiar voice startled
me.

“
You
must be happy,” Ellie said.

I turned
around so fast that I nearly slipped on the cold stone ground
underneath me.

“
Got
something to hide?” She raised an eyebrow.

I realized I
was hunched forward, holding onto myself as if afraid my breasts
might fall off.

“
I… um,”
I tried.

“
I’m not
judging,” She slowly slid her leather top above her shoulders and
over her head, revealing large round breasts and a softly defined
stomach.

I hadn’t meant
to stare, and I immediately felt my cheeks warm to what must have
been an uncomfortable shade of red the moment she caught me
looking. But this didn’t seem to affect her. She simply smirked
then went on to removing her bottoms.

“
These
are washable too, you know,” she said, dangling the sun-dried skin
between her fingers.

I nodded
quickly, avoiding eye contact.

“
I
usually go for a soak at the base of the waterfall. It’s deep
enough to walk all the way into,” she said.

“
To wash
your clothes?” I asked.

“
To wash
everything.”

I peered
toward the waterfall—or at least what I could see of it from this
angle—and I noticed that the number of women who had been
sunbathing naked had doubled in number.

“
Murk
doesn’t want anyone using soaps in the Working Grounds’ pool,” she
said, “but salt water still cleanses, so most women opt for a quick
bath. The showers lead out into a stream, so it doesn’t affect the
pool.” With her big toe, she pointed below, where flat rocks made a
stair-like descent, with translucent water trickling out into the
jungle.

I much
preferred the idea of using soap. I hadn’t showered in over a
week.

“
Are you
showering, or what?” She turned away from me to rinse her hair, her
hourglass figure shifting from side to side as she moved to catch
the falling water.

I realized I
was still holding my chest. I stepped toward the water with my
bottoms still in place. I wasn’t ready to expose my nudity like the
rest of these women. I flinched at the water’s impact—not because
it was heavy in any way, but because it was cold in comparison to
the jungle’s hot sticky air.

“
I’d use
that up fast, if I were you,” Ellie said.

I turned
toward her, crossing both arms over my chest.

“
The
soap,” she said. “This isn’t some cheap-brand pharmacy soap. It’s
all natural, and in this heat, it doesn’t last.”

I opened my
right palm, only to find a thick glob remaining; an oily substance
leaked through the cracks between my fingers. I understood why most
women preferred to use the Working Grounds’ bed of water for
bathing—it was essentially free, while showering alongside the
waterfall was costly in the sense that each shower required one
piece of soap. I couldn’t believe that I’d be spending three years
of my life bathing in salt water and only occasionally treating
myself to an actual shower, which I’d come to realize was a
privileged luxury among the Islanders.

I rubbed the
gooey soap all over my body, feeling as though I were taking a
shower for the first time in my life. It wasn’t like spreading
commercial body wash on your body. The texture was balmy and sleek
and smelled of coconut, but it didn’t lather. I could tell Tegan’s
concoction was oil-based.

“
See you
tonight,” I heard Ellie say.

My eyes were
sealed tight, with soap layering over my entire face, so I waved
awkwardly in her direction. The cool water from above rinsed
through my sand-infested hair and across my skin, making me feel
whole again. I gently rubbed the water out of my eyes, feeling the
smooth skin of my face underneath my fingertips, when suddenly, an
overwhelming sadness came over me. The celebration had made me
realize that caring for one’s physical appearance was no longer
feasible.

And I didn’t
mind—I mean, I didn’t really care that I wouldn’t be able to
straighten my hair; I didn’t care that my hair on my legs would be
prickly, if not long and hairy; I didn’t care that my eyebrows
wouldn’t be plucked or that I wouldn’t be wearing any makeup; I
didn’t care about my personal appearance at all.

What bothered
me the most was that for the next three years, I wouldn’t even be
able to see my own face.

I wouldn’t
have expected to see Murk sitting among her villagers, laughing
with her head thrown back, and sipping liquid from a sliced
coconut. She’d always been so secretive—so mysteriously hidden in
the depth of the Working Grounds’ waterfall or hidden behind the
closed door of her cabin at the far end of the Village.

Seeing her
this way opened my eyes to the overlooked reality that she was just
like the rest of us: a human being who’d been sentenced to spend
years of her life on a remote island, fighting every day to survive
among lawless women and predatory animals.

Being leader
didn’t make her immune to emotion or pleasure. I watched as she
laughed with Trim, telling stories while pointing out past the
Village walls, and for the first time since I’d been dropped onto
Kormace Island, I realized how fortunate I was to have been found
by Trim and to have been brought into a village led by such an
admirable and worthy leader, someone capable of maintaining order
while also ensuring comfort and overall happiness.

“
This
seat taken?”

I glanced up.
It was Biggie. She was holding a half skull in one hand and a half
melon in the other. “Here,” she said, handing me the melon. She sat
beside me atop a thick wooden log that had stabilized itself into
the ground over the course of several years, I presumed.

“
What is
this?” I asked. I leaned over the melon bowl and inhaled. The
stench made my nostrils flare even wider, and I immediately turned
away.

“
Oh come
on, it ain’t that bad,” she said. She tilted her skull bowl toward
her lips with both hands and sipped on the liquid. “Tegan makes it.
It’s home brewed.”

“
Alcohol?” I asked.

She smiled
sideways before drinking some more.

“
It
smells rotten,” I admitted.

“
Kinda
is,” she said. “Won’t hurt you, though. Ain’t you ever done a
tequila shot or a vodka shot? That shit don’t taste like chocolate,
but it sure feels good.” My mouth watered at the thought of
chocolate.

I reluctantly
tilted the melon toward my lips, allowing the warm fluid to enter
past my bottom teeth and over the top of my tongue. The taste was
overpowering—it tasted like rubbing alcohol with the subtlety of
tropical fruit. I immediately spat it back into the melon bowl,
only to then realize that everyone’s eyes had turned my way.

“
What’s
the matter,
Archer
? Can’t
handle Tegan’s brew?” Eagle said.

Everyone burst
out laughing. I stared at her for a moment even though all I wanted
to do was glare or tell her to go fuck herself. I wasn’t the one
who’d severed her nerves or the reason she’d landed herself on
Kormace Island to begin with. She was acting like a child.

As the fire
crackled, I noticed a crooked smile take shape on her shadowed
face. I wasn’t sure whether I had remained quiet simply because
confrontation wasn’t in my nature or because Eagle was sitting
directly beside Murk.

“
Give
her a break, Eag. Everyone has a hard time drinking the stuff at
first.” Rocket sat down by Eagle’s side and nudged her on the
arm.

Eagle scoffed,
still eyeing me. “Not like that.”

“
Don’t
worry, I did the same thing,” I heard.

There was a
middle-aged woman standing behind me with both arms crossed over
her chest and an overall careless way about her.

“
Shit’s
not for everyone,” she added.

I tried to
smile at her, being that she’d come to my defense, but she walked
away to join a group of women gathered on the other side of the
fire. Eagle went on to mutter something to Rocket, but I wasn’t
able to hear. There were too many voices being thrown in all
directions.

I looked
around in search of Flander and Fisher, but it was too dark beyond
the fire to see anyone’s face. There were dozens of women gathered
in honor of Eagle’s bravery the day of the attack.

“
You
gonna drink that?” Biggie asked, leaning over me.

I looked down
at my melon bowl, which was almost entirely full, and I shook my
head. I couldn’t see myself ever acquiring a taste for such a vile
concoction.

“
No use
wasting.” She reached over and pulled the drink out of my
hands.

I leaned
forward with both elbows on my knees, staring into the fire. I
imagined myself suddenly waking up from an induced coma, only to be
told by hospital staff that I’d suffered a severe head injury the
night Gary attacked my mother. Maybe this was all just a
dream—Kormace Island, the Hunters, the Northers, the Ogres—maybe
none of them were real. Maybe, just maybe… they were all fictional
characters from a television series that I’d somehow managed to
incorporate into my vivid dreams.