The Feral Sentence (Book 1, Part 2) (7 page)

I nodded and
quickly moved past her, but her hand suddenly caught my arm.

“
What
happened?” she asked.

Fisher wasn’t
the empathetic type. She looked at me through narrowed eyes—not
those of worry, but rather, concern.

“
I… I,”
I stammered.

Was my
demeanor so different that she had picked up on my fear? Fisher
never seemed to worry about others’ emotions. So what did she care,
anyway?

She scratched
the front of her throat and raised both eyebrows. “You’re
bleeding.”

I mirrored her
movement and gently pressed my finger against the base of my neck,
feeling warmth and irritation; then I pulled my hand away. Blotches
of dark red covered my fingertips.

“
Well?”
she pressed.

“
Oh,
this,” I said. “I, um… I had to go… You know. And, well,” I said
and tried to create a false reality in which I slipped trying to
get back up and caught a sharp rock.

“
I don’t
need to know,” she quickly interrupted. “Just clean it out. The
last thing you want is an infection. We don’t have antibiotics
here. If Trim sees you with that, you’re in for a speech. Find some
lemon, salt, whatever. Go see Tegan, and get that taken care
of.”

I nodded and
continued toward my tent. The last thing I wanted was to go talk to
anyone else. The cut could wait. I’d clean it out in the
morning.

I distanced
myself from the Village’s celebration and hurried into the comfort
of my tent. It wasn’t much, with its dirt flooring, torn ceiling,
and a stack of giant leaves I’d found while venturing to the Cliff
several days after my arrival on Kormace Island—but it was where I
felt comfortable.

“
I hope
you plan on checking those every night,” Rocket had said, eying me
curiously as I dragged a handful of leaves at a time into the
Village. “Bugs like leaves. Just sayin’.”

But that
night, after having been ambushed by the women in masks, the last
thing I wanted to do was rummage through piles of leaves in search
of a critter. I hadn’t spotted one in days, and I was willing to
take my chances. I dropped heavily onto my side, appreciating the
cool beneath me.

For the first
time since I’d been dropped onto the island, I felt a hopelessness
overshadow my state of surrealism—my need to believe that Kormace
Island was nothing more than a nightmare.

The reality of
my situation had somehow been triggered, if not amplified, by my
attack. I thought of my mother, and I could only pray she was okay.
She’d endured so much. Would she try anything stupid? Would I
return from Kormace only to find her name listed in the
obituaries?

I thought of
my body and how filthy and rugged it had become. I wondered if I
would return home damaged and scarred, both physically and
psychologically. Would I even survive my sentence? It was apparent
that war was unfolding, and for all I knew, I could go to sleep one
night and wake up to my throat being slit by a Norther.

Then, I
thought of the life of comfort I’d once had—sleeping on a
pillow-top bed and my down-filled pillows; sitting on our ancient,
yet comfortable fabric sofa with a bowl of hot buttery popcorn;
having the option to either warm or cool the apartment at any given
moment; making a warm cup of coffee in the morning; wearing clean
clothes every day; being smoothly shaven. My throat swelled, and I
felt something I hadn’t felt since being sentenced to Kormace
Island—tears. At first, the warm droplets trickled down the sides
of my cheeks, but this sadness was quickly overpowered by grief,
and with grief came uncontrollable sobbing.

The feeling
was so intense that I felt my heart clench every surrounding muscle
and my throat swell to the point of causing labored breathing. The
crying resulted in a migraine, which brought forth yet another
realization—my inability to obtain medication. This would also
prove to be a challenge on this island. I couldn’t just pop a few
Tylenol to ease the pain or swallow some antacid liquid when I felt
nauseated. And then I realized… As a woman, I had monthly visits.
How were the Islanders dealing with this? Had they found a way to
make tampons?

How was anyone
supposed to be prepared for this? I would have rather gone to
prison.

Why couldn’t I
stop thinking? I pulled one of my giant leaves closer to my chest,
holding onto it as I’d once done every night with my fluffy pillow.
The effect wasn’t quite the same—the leaf was cool and thin—but it
was better than nothing.

All I could do
was hope for a better tomorrow.

I didn’t need
a mirror to know my eyes were all pink and puffy when I woke up the
next morning. I’d cried myself to sleep, which, ever since I was a
little girl, had always resulted in my eyes swelling to an
embarrassing grapefruit pink.

I avoided eye
contact with as many women as possible on my way to breakfast, not
wanting to be ridiculed or viewed at as weak. I followed the line
to the fire pit with my head low. When it was my turn to be served,
I extended my bowl, careful not to glance up.

“
One
scoop, or two?” Sumi asked.

I glanced up.
She’d never cared about me or about what I wanted to eat. Why the
change of heart? I Hesitated.

“
Two.”

“
You get
one.” She scooped a spoonful of slimy egg into my bowl then turned
to her followers and said, “Told ya she was hiding somethin’. Looks
like the city girl finally broke.” Laughter erupted all around me,
and I felt everyone’s eyes on me.

“
Lookin’
a little pink there, Brone.”

“
Stace
owes me three pearls. I bet two weeks, she bet one.”

“
Don’t
beat yourself up, kid.”

“
I’ll
take care o’ ya, babe.”

“
Fuck
off, Nym. The girl’s mine.”

Why was
everyone talking to me? I tried to move past them, but I was
trapped. There were distorted faces all around me—some smiling,
others grimacing. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I was pulled
out of the crowd.

“
Don’t
mind them,” Flander said, flicking her wrist, “ain’t like they got
nothin’ better to do.”

“
Did I
miss something?” I asked. “My eyes are swollen… So
what?”

“
Just a
game the women play,” she said. “Every time there’s a new drop,
everyone bets on how long it’ll take before the girl finally
realizes how shitty her life is and finally breaks down for the
first time. Don’t always come quick, ya know. Took me four weeks
when I first got ’ere. Think it’s the shock… Nothing feels real at
first, ya know?”

I nodded
slowly. I definitely knew. I couldn’t understand how these women
purposely went out of their way to find amusement in someone else’s
misery. I couldn’t imagine myself betting on a drop.

“
Case
you’re wonderin’,” Flander said, “the average is two
weeks.”

I smirked,
even though I didn’t find this funny. “So, I’m the average,
then.”

She smacked me
on the shoulder and laughed. “Eat up, buttercup. We’re goin’
fishing today.”

* * *

“
I feel
sorry for you,” Rocket said, leaning in.

We were
exiting the Working Grounds, with bows and spears in hand, on our
way to the Western shoreline.

I turned
around to catch dozens of women with their eyes glued to me. They
were smiling at me, but not in a genuine way. There was a thirst in
their eyes—a sexual, predatory lust. I swallowed hard.

Rocket shook
her head. “You’re fair game now, Brone.”

“
Because
I cried?” I asked, even though all I’d wanted to do was scream. Was
I not allowed to cry? How juvenile were these women?

“
Just
the way things work around here,” Rocket said. “You’re not
available until you break, ’cause once you break, it means you’re
one of us. Those are the rules. So most women won’t even look at
you until that happens. But now, in their eyes, you’re fresh
meat.”

“
But I’m
not a lesbian…” I whispered.

Trim and
Fisher, who must have been listening in on our entire conversation,
burst out laughing up ahead of us.

“
You are
now,” Fisher said, glancing back at me.

What was that
supposed to mean?

Rocket must
have noticed the look of disgust on my face because she nudged me
in the shoulder and said, “Happens to guys too, you know… in
prison. I miss a good fuck like any other woman here, but all we
got’s each other. You learn to like it”—she winked at me—“sometimes
more than you thought you did.”

I felt my face
warm. I’d only ever had sex a handful of times at the age of
sixteen with my boyfriend, and to be quite frank, it was everything
my mother had told me it would be—painful and awkward. The last
thing on my mind on Kormace Island was sex.

“
This
way,” Trim ordered.

I saw a break
of white in between the trees up ahead, and as we moved closer, I
realized that the light was in fact not light at all—it was sand.
We stepped out into the opening, and I was nearly blinded by how
bright everything was. The sand was white as snow, and I could see
it even through the ocean water.

“
Welcome
to the Western shoreline,” Biggie said, tapping me on the back so
hard I nearly fell forward.

“
Why
couldn’t they have dropped me off here?” I asked, but all I
received in return was laughter.

I’d never
travelled before, but the scenery before me could have been
mistaken for a picture found on the cover of a travel magazine. A
true paradise. A cool mist floated over the beach, sprinkling onto
my chest and face. I listened to the sound of waves crashing on the
tide and the sound of birds chirping as they flew in circular
motions above the water.

It was a bit
overwhelming, if not frightening, to gaze out into open water. The
horizon was flat with not one hint of land in sight. I couldn’t
imagine how far we were from civilization. Were there other islands
like Kormace? Other felons sentenced to the same fate?

“
Brone,
come on,” I heard.

I glanced up
to spot Trim walking into the ocean completely naked. Fisher
quickly pulled off her top, revealing small but rounded breasts and
a set of abs you’d expect to see on a man. The others quickly
followed, tossing their leather garments onto the bed of sand and
running wildly into the foamy water.

“
Come
on, Brone!”

I stared into
the open water—at Trim, whose head was visible, but nothing else;
at Biggie, who stomped her way into the water, her body jiggling at
every step; at Fisher, who dove headfirst into the deep; at Rocket,
who playfully lunged toward Flander; and finally, at Flander, who
cursed as she fell backward, submerging herself entirely into the
water.

Did they
really expect me to join them? Naked? I awkwardly tugged at the
bottom corner of my hand-sewn leather top.

“
It’s
just skin!”

“
No one
here but us, Brone!”

I’d always
been the type of girl to shy away in one of the enclosed changing
rooms after gym class while all the other girls dressed and
undressed around one another, gossiping about boys or about the
newest sugar-free salad dressing available at the store. I’d always
been so self-conscious of my body, even though I weighed a measly
one hundred and fifteen pounds and I’d been gifted with a naturally
muscular build.

It’s just
skin, I repeated in my head. I knew I had to get over myself. Life
just wasn’t the same anymore, and it wouldn’t be for a very long
time. I’d be hairy and filthy, and I’d smell of sour sweat and salt
for the next few years. There was no use trying to maintain
appearances or impress anyone for that matter. We were all living
life on Kormace Island for the sole purpose of existing, of
surviving—not for pleasantries.

With this new
outlook in mind, I slid my top over my head, slipped out of my
bottoms, and removed my brown cruddy sneakers, before running full
force into the open water.

Although
captive on a remote island, I felt liberated for the first time in
my life.

“
Wooooo!” Rocket slapped a handful of water at my
face.

I splashed
back, forgetting the island’s brutality and the savagery just long
enough to relish something I hadn’t experienced for quite some
time—fun.

But it wasn’t
long before Trim stepped out of the water and ordered us to do the
same. I slid my clothes back on, covering my skin in a grainy layer
of wet sand and fastened my quiver and bow onto my back.

“
Here,”
Trim said, tossing a fishing spear to me.

To my
surprise, I actually caught it.

“
Time to
fish,” she said.

The others
were handed their spears, and together, we moved along the
shoreline toward what appeared to be a small bay bordered by heavy
rocks and darkened sand.

Trim was the
first to step up onto one of the rocks and stab her spear into the
water. She pulled back, revealing a large blue-tailed fish that
flapped from side to side.

“
And
that’s how it’s done.” She smirked, pulled the fish off the
sharpened point of her spear, and tossed it into the sand beside my
feet.

“
Show
off,” Rocket muttered.

We circled the
bay, stepping up onto the stones, and I couldn’t help but gaze into
the water, admiring the multitude of shapes and colors moving
swiftly below us. Spears started piercing the water, and the fish
moved about frantically. I just stood there with my spear gripped
in both hands.