The Wall (The Woodlands) (25 page)

A man on the panel coughed and said finitely,
“We’ll step up patrols of the wall border but no more talk of takeovers. We’re not ready.”

Takeovers?
The idea filled me with equal measures of hope and fear. They couldn’t possibly, could they? If they could free the people… my mind started wandering. I could see my mother, Rash, Henri. But what if the people didn’t want to be freed? My thoughts turned to Paulo. Someone I hadn’t really allowed into my head since I’d left. Freedom was a hot coal in his hands; he’d sooner fling it back over the wall. I couldn’t imagine the people in Pau staging an uprising. They were too beaten down, too scared. I had an idea where the Survivors could start, though, to get those numbers they needed—Clara’s hometown, Palma.

T
he idea of a Woodlands without the dark shadow of the Superiors hovering over it was an attractive idea, dangerous, but deliciously enticing. I knew if they wanted to do it, I wanted to be part of it. I needed to be.

Someone yelled out,
“Has no one thought about the nursery? All those innocent children, those teenage mothers. We have to help them.” At this statement, I nearly fell over. So it was nurseries they had decided upon. When Alexei had first brought it up, when I escaped the Woodlands, he’d said they hadn’t decided whether they would raise the babies in big nurseries or billet them out to childless couples. My stomach turned. That could have been Orry and Hessa.

“
We will help them. These things take time and planning. Let’s vote and then get on to what we are really here for,” a man with dark hair pulled into a plait at the nape of his neck said as he found us in the crowd and smiled. I started. Was this an ambush?

“
All in favor of holding off on the plans for the Woodlands, raise your hand.”

The crowd shuffled then two thirds of them raised their hands. Did I get a vote?

Joseph raised his hand with the majority. The same man with the plait looked down at us and said, “Not yet, young man. You are not pledged.”

I knew very quickly
, and so certainly, that I was surprised at myself. I was ready to take the pledge. I wanted a say. I wanted to be part of this community, to protect it and perhaps help it spread to my old home.

“
So it is decided. Now, will the young couple who so bravely and kindly helped Feliks in his final hours please step onto the stage.”

I found myself leading Joseph
, eagerly wanting that charm around my neck.

It wasn
’t really a ceremony. It was too casual for that but it had weight to it. I felt the sense of history I was being welcomed into. This would be our home, our people, and I was pleased with that.

The man placed the necklaces in each of our palms.

“Do you know the pledge?”

We nodded.

We spoke separately. I went first. I let the words roll around in my mouth, making sure I really believed them. Realizing, of course, I did.

I am a survivor. I live beyond the wall. I give shelter to those that need it. I am n
ot chosen but I choose to live.

It was done. And as I scanned the
crowd, I saw Deshi, Apella, and Alexei smiling at us from the back of the crowd, their new necklaces shining under the warm theater lights. I needed to talk to them, find out what they thought about this idea of storming the Woodlands. Without a very thorough plan, it would be suicide.

The weeks had rolled by like the rolling hills I saw when I looked out my window.
The white was less than the green, the scales tipping. Winter was receding and I could see the changes, in the land and in the people. My people. I never thought I would belong anywhere. In fact, I was sure of it. But now I belonged to a place, a person, and a family.

The sense I got from these people was that they were independent but chose to be aroun
d each other. No one was forced. They were encouraged. I probably needed more encouragement than most. Trust was hard for me. It always would be.

Now that we had made o
ur choices and our pledge, we were left to our own devices. Our home was taking shape slowly as I started receiving payment for my work. A small pile of salvaged toys had accumulated in the corner. Toys were another fairly foreign thing to us. Joseph said I should make a box to put them in until Orry was old enough to play with them.

They had tracked the pack of tigers past the city and set up surveillance at the known entry points to make sure we were never caught unawares again. Things had settled and I felt safe and comfortable.
There was still talk about approaching the Woodlands but until winter was over, it wasn’t practical.

Alexei said it was fascinating that the tiger
s now hunted in groups. Prior to the Woodlands, they were a solitary, shy species. Prior to the Woodlands, when people had consumed most of the planet, they were nearly extinct. I guess our near extinction had been a blessing to the wildlife.

“
It’s a fast forward in evolution,” he said excitedly. He had decided to do what he was best at, categorizing and organizing the Survivors’ history and what they’d found in the city. Apella had been asked several times to assist in helping them with their reproduction problems but she couldn’t. She said she didn’t trust that she would get it right this time and it brought back too many bad memories. She was content to return to doctoring.

I liked visiting them but found it easier on my own. With Joseph there
, it felt like we were all keeping a secret from him. Apella was still so adamant that he never learned why she lost her baby.

I found out that
Gus had approached Joseph to join him in their little surveillance group but he declined. I was relieved; the idea of him and Cal working together conjured up small horrors. He enjoyed studying under Matthew in the hospital. He took Orry with him half the time; there were always people willing to watch him. It was quite far from where we lived but transport was not a problem. Everyone used the spinners.

As I was accepted into the community and accepted it myself
, I learned more and more about the way things worked. The technology was baffling. Instead of using all their energy to control people, they had developed far beyond the capabilities of the Woodlands in a lot of ways. Their biggest problem seemed to be infertility. There were no kids. I mean,
no
kids. Cal was the youngest person in the whole town. Although, now, I guess Orry was, followed closely by Hessa.

I l
ooked over at my pile of work, eager to get started. Bataar had asked me to modify his sled, streamline it but also camouflage it better. The woman down the road had asked me to fix her dining chairs. I didn’t do it for money. Money was inconsequential here. Bataar said he would give me furs and the woman down the road would cook me four dinners. It worked. Most of my business came from one person though. Cal.

We had an uneasy friendship
or not even that really—we were dependent on him for food so I had to be nice to him. But I felt like he was watching me all the time, the eyes I once thought were warm and bright, now looked more solid and sticky. I usually tried to prioritize his work so I could get him out of the house quicker. But he always came back with more. At the moment, I was fixing a bunch of drawers he said wouldn’t open and shut properly. Joseph said I should tell him to get lost. It wasn’t that easy though. At least this way there was a definitive amount of time he would spend here. I had no doubt he would come up with other excuses to visit anyway. I felt sorry for him. He seemed lonely.

Cal was a good resource
for information too. I asked him questions about the town while I worked.

“
So how does the government work here? I mean, it seemed a little disorganized to me. The way people were yelling and arguing,” I asked as I planed down the edge of the drawer, noticing it looked like someone had kicked the base in with their foot.

“
What do you mean?” Cal said, staring at my dark hands as I smoothed the edge of the drawer, getting covered in sawdust.

“
Is there one ruler, you know, like the Superiors? The man with the plait looked like he had the final say in things.”

“
No, not really. People nominate themselves and they get chosen by a lottery draw. There are five leaders at any one time and they rotate them every six months.” It couldn’t have been more different from the Woodlands.

I dusted my hands off and went to pull myself up. Cal extended his hand but I declined. He looked angry, for a second,
and then he forced a smile to his face. “Thanks for the work, Cal. I’ll let you know when I’m done,” I said, trying to get rid of him.

“
Are you trying to get rid of me?” he asked, his face twisted, his hand gripping the back of the chair too hard. His emotions swayed in and out of control like this. One minute he was fine, the next he seemed like he would explode with anger.

I waved my hand dismissively,
“No, no. I just have a lot to do. It won’t be very interesting for you.”
Please let that work
.

He jumped up and down, his voice sounding
childlike, “Oh I do find it interesting. I don’t mind.”

I wiped m
y forehead. “Please don’t be offended, Cal, but I find it quite hard to work with people staring at me. I don’t even like Joseph hovering over me when I’m working.”

He looked hurt but he hung on to the last thing I said
. “So you don’t let
him
watch you work but you let me, at least for a little while?” He said it like he was winning. He never said Joseph’s name, it was always
him
or
that guy
.

“
I guess…”

This seemed to
satisfy him. He got up, touching the end of my plait on the way out. I shuddered. I hadn’t told Joseph about Cal’s inappropriate behavior. He already disliked him without adding to it. We needed the food he brought in return for my work. For now, I had to put up with it.

Orry was with Joseph at the hospital today so it was quiet. Only wood creaking and the sound
s of my tools punctuated the silence. I loved it. I emptied my mind and focused on the details before me, the simplicity of the grain, the rough give of the timber, as I turned it from something boring to something useful.

I jerk
ed my head to the window when I thought I heard someone walking by the side of the house. I got up, rubbing the back of my neck, and peered out the window but no one was there. People were close here. It wasn’t unusual to see someone poke their head in your window to ask for something. In Pau, I never even knew our neighbors’ names.

I abandoned Cal
’s drawers and pulled out something I had been working on for myself. Under our bed was a toy train. I had carved the main engine roughly. I was basing it on the picture on the brochure we had followed so many months ago. It seemed fitting. I was turning it over in my hands, trying to work out what to do next, when I saw a reflection in the mirror facing opposite the bedroom window. It was fast but I swear I saw dark brown curls. I laid the train down carefully on the bed and went into the icy yard to investigate. I ran quickly. The cold was biting as I hadn’t put a jacket on. I walked up one side of the little shack and then doubled back to the front. Cal was skulking down the front path.