The Coalition Episodes 1-4 (2 page)

CHAPTER 2

Shai

The garden was quiet just like she had hoped. No one was working the holes; the shovel was left where the last person had stuck it deep into a mound of soft earth. The shovel's rusted metal scoop looked bright orange in the pale sunlight, its wooden handle soft as silk from use. She jabbed the shovel into the dirt then stepped on its edge for leverage. The soil was heavy and wet with frequent rain. Nothing grew
in the garden, but the Mothers ensured everyone that they were learning discipline by digging the holes while getting exercise.

Shai's back muscles strained with the upward pull of the shovel, laden with soil. She tossed the clump onto a large dirt pile nearby and continued on to make another hole. She needed this: to be alone with her thoughts, which she always harnessed until she was past the burning point in her labor, the point when her muscles became used to the exertion and there was nothing left to distract her.

Three holes had been dug before she released her mind to wander. And it was the same thought that surfaced every time.

"Daddy, why do we dig these holes if we're just going to cover them back up again?" The young girl's eyes were shiny with admiration for the man who stooped over a row of tiny holes like dimples in the earth.

"Here honey. I'll show you." His dark eyes were merry, his face rosy from the heat of the afternoon. The girl squatted beside him in the dirt and cupped her hands, ready to receive the gift that he held out to her. He dropped a small, black, tear-shaped disk into her hand.

"It's a seed. When it's put into the hole and covered back up with soil, the sun and the rain will help it grow. Soon we'll see a little green shoot poking up through the dirt." He pointed to a row of skinny green tubes sticking out of the ground next to their row of holes. "After a while, when it's time, we harvest them. These ones will be watermelons."

Watermelons.

The thought faded, a wisp of smoke in the wind. She licked her lips then whispered the word like she always did.

“Watermelons.”

The thought wasn’t connected to anything. It could even have been just a day-dream, something she made up in her mind, but a vague feeling in her chest, the tight ache like she was holding back tears, told her she was that little girl.

Sometimes another thought would follow it; this one she'd have to fight off. It was the one that made her face hot, and tears prick her eyes even though she didn't know why.

She stuck her shovel into the dirt again, jamming it in harder than necessary, then rested against its handle. She pressed her lips together and swallowed but the thought still came.

The air was thick and heavy with smoke and dust. The little girl's mouth and nose were wrapped with a layer of material, but she wished she could wrap her eyes too. The air stung. The wind whipped pieces of dirt and dust into her face making her squint against the prickles of pain. Tears poured down her cheeks as she tried to see into the gloominess.

Everything looked different. Some of the houses were flat on the ground, some were blazing orange and red as flames swallowed them up; Others, like hers, had so many people crammed inside them it made it hard to breathe.

The girl hung onto a man's hand with all her strength, afraid that the gusting wind might tear her away from him. She looked back at her house with its lights glowing in the dark.

"Daddy, wait!" She coughed and choked and the man turned around. His mouth and nose were also covered. He
bent his head close to hers. Her voice was muffled by the cloth and rough-sounding from yelling into the wind.

"Yes, honey. What is it?"

"I want Mommy to come too." More tears squeezed out of her eyes. The man pulled the covering off his mouth then kissed her forehead. He was white around his mouth where the cloth had been and dark where the dust had clung to his skin.

"She will come later, I promise. Right now all the children have to get out of Edan and go to a safe place."

"Why? Is there an uprising?" A gust of wind blew against her face and she closed her eyes to keep the dirt out. It was a dirty word. Whispered behind the backs of hands and into ears. But she'd heard her mother and father speak it so often, especially lately, that it had become a household word.

"It's like an uprising, honey. Elchai called it the War Between Worlds." He stood and took her hand again. "We’d better go."

Shai pulled the shovel from the dirt and threw it on the ground, letting anger course through her, hoping the next thought wouldn't come. But it did anyway.

The kind-faced man pulled on the girl's hand as she turned to look at her house one last time. Suddenly there was a lot of noise. Shouting. Screaming. Crying. The windows of her house exploded outwards, showering the ground with glass. The people inside the house rushed through the door and knocked her to the ground.

The girl's hand was ripped from the man's. On her knees she cried out, "Daddy! Daaaadeeee!" Until her throat was raw.

Finally the thought ended. Leaving only a fluttering, ragged feeling in her chest, like something important had been violently ripped from her heart. Sometimes she felt if she dug enough holes in the 'garden' she'd suddenly strike what she'd lost with the blunt shovel. She would dig it up and hold it against her tight.

Daddy.

Shai blinked several times and stared at the row of large holes she'd made until they no longer blurred together. She cleared her throat of the lump then wiped her hands on her trousers.

Everything was still and quiet, wrapped in grey. Grey sky. Grey dirt. Grey clothing. Even everyone's eyes were grey.

She hated grey. But at least it deadened the quick, sharp pains that always came with the last thoughts of the Old World. That’s what she called the memories of pungent smells and colors so bright they hurt the eyes.

No one spoke of the Old World. It existed only in her mind and she shared her memories with no one. They were her secret thoughts, another thing that made her feel different.

She stayed in the garden until the Old World thoughts became as grey as the world she lived in and the pain went away.

Someone else would come and fill the holes she'd made.

It was time to go to the Hill House.

CHAPTER 3

Aliah

Twenty-one days.

There had to be another way. His tongue smoothed the stinging blemish his teeth had made on the inside of his lower lip. Bad habit.

He breathed in, shallow and ragged. His best friend sat across from him drying her hair by the fire. She'd just come back from bathing in the Bath House when he'd let himself into her new living quarters.

He sighed and looked around the small living room. Stone floors, matching stone walls and a fireplace. Three simple pieces of wooden furniture: a bench, a rocking chair, and a table. They'd chosen to sit on the floor in front of the fire with scratchy grey blankets around their shoulders.

Shai tipped her head sideways as she worked at squeezing the wet strands of her honey-colored hair with a towel. Long lashes rested on high cheekbones as she kept her eyes down.

He was familiar with every curve of her slender neck, and her shoulders that bore the weight of growing up in their oppressive community of orphans.

He flicked his eyes at her again and suddenly wished she was like everyone else. Maybe then she wouldn't have caught the Leader's eye. She was wrong about being safe because she was different. He knew the Leader. He knew their Leader liked courage and determination. Aliah often wondered if the Leader had designed the Laws as a way to flush out the ones who showed signs of resistance. Even though Shai seemed to keep the Laws and Rules, Aliah knew she secretly despised them. It was what made him afraid for her. He was sure that one day he'd meet her for one of their assigned chores and she'd be missing. That she’d hopped the fence and disappeared into the Borderless forest beyond.  Only her fear of the unknown kept her in Lael this long. And now this.

It’s not supposed to be this way.
Nausea rolled in his stomach.

"It would've been better if you were never born." He reached and out traced his thumb along the contours of Shai's face. Her pale blue eyes looked up at him and widened as she pulled away. She said nothing, just pressed her lips together the way she did when trying to keep her emotions in check. His shoulders caved forward.
Why did I say that?

He shifted his position on the floor then touched her shoulder but she recoiled from him, her brows furrowed. She avoided his steady gaze and fixed her stare on the fire blazing in the stone fireplace.

He frowned and dropped his hands.

"I didn't mean it like that, Shai." His heart galloped in his chest like a wild stallion in a thunderstorm. In the firelight, Shai tilted her chin up slightly but didn't speak, as she pressed some wrinkles out of her grey tunic with her fingers.

It was time to go, before he got caught interrupting her mandatory twenty-four hours of solitude. He pushed himself up from the hardwood floor, grabbed his wool cloak from a bench and hurried to the door. He stopped on the threshold, one hand against the rough wooden door.

Several moments passed and the only sound was the popping of the wood fire. Shai's face was drawn and pinched in the dim, orangey fire-light.

He cleared his throat of a sudden stuffy-feeling. "I can explain. But maybe it’s better that I go.” He wrapped the cloak around his shoulders.

The birthmark in the flesh over his heart grew warm until it flooded him with its comforting heat. He rested a hand on it, grateful for its interference, and caught Shai watching him. He dropped his hand and smiled. She didn't return it.

She sat cross-legged on the floor, with the fire-light playing with the golden hues of her long hair. Shadows made her thin jaw appear angular, almost stubborn. The hard lines in her face disappeared as a fleeting look of fear touched her features. When she glanced at him it vanished, leaving behind something fiercer. Defiance: in the way she squared her shoulders and stuck out her lower lip.

He took one short step away from the door, towards her, then hesitated. Something stirred in him; the familiar need to protect her. If only she would let him.

He stood rooted to the ground, willing himself to turn around and leave, but the ache in his chest compelled him to stay.

Shai stretched one hand towards him.  "Don't go, Aliah. I don't... I don't want to be alone. And I don't c
are about the solitude order." Her admission startled him. Exposed a seldom-seen vulnerability.

"But you have to be alone tonight." His throat constricted, graveling his voice. "Tonight you... things are different now. I shouldn't even be here."

She waved him away. "Fine. It's okay. It's just... I was caught off guard earlier. I'll be fine you know."

The vulnerability evaporated in that single flick of her wrist. Steely resolve hardened her jawline again.

He chewed his lip for a second, watching her.

“I have to go. The Mothers won't appreciate it if they find me here." He turned to reach for the knob again just as she got up from the floor and came to stand in front him, her hands twisting her standard, grey tunic. The absence of the pendant around her neck reminded him that time was much more precious now.

"It's better that it's me and not you. Everyone needs you, Aliah." He faced her, the sudden nearness of her prickled his arms and heated his face. "Including you?" He caught a fistful of the honey-gold hair at the back of her neck and pressed her to him.

She resisted. He lowered his face to hers and breathed in the scent of soap on her skin, but she shoved his chest with both hands, knocking him backwards into the door.

"Don't. You're asking for trouble, Aliah. I mean it," Shai sighed. "That's exactly what would earn you an infraction. And how would that help?" She took a small step away from him, then looked up at him with a conflicted look. "I'm sorry. Just stay until... I fall asleep?"

She curled up on the bench by the fire while he sat on the floor beside her.
What does she want from me?
He ran a hand through his hair then rubbed the back of his neck.

She soon fell asleep, so he carried her to the bed in the tiny back room, then tucked a woolen blanket around her. Her forehead was cool and dry when he pressed his lips there. She would never know.

He backed up a few steps and watched her. The gentle rise and fall of her chest more rhythmic than his own jerky breathing. He turned and walked briskly back to the door.

CHAPTER
4

Shai

She released one foot from the confines of the blanket and pushed the bed sheets back. Something had awakened her. The moonlight slanted in through the bare window pooling its pale yellow light on the floor. Her skin prickled as the fine hairs on her arms stood on end. She wasn't alone in the room.

Near the foot of the bed the shimmery outline of a head appeared. Colored dots swirled in her vision so she squeezed her eyes tight. When she reopened them, the rugged face of a young man with piercing blue eyes came into focus. He had been appearing to her a lot lately, as frequently as her thoughts of the Old World, maybe more. But seeing him was different than the memory-dreams she conjured up in the garden. He was more
real.

His shoulder-length, wavy brown hair was thick, and parted down the middle. His strong features marred by a long jagged scar from his right eye down to the corner of his mouth. His chin creased in the center.

She didn't know his name and he never spoke. His face appeared once in a while, usually when she was alone, but with his more frequent visits lately it was becoming more difficult to keep them from occurring in public.

"Who are you? What do you want?" She always asked those same two questions but never received a response. His mouth curled up at the corners slightly in a grin, a small movement that sent her heart racing in expectation. Maybe tonight he would finally say something. Her fingertips tingled and a warmth spread through her body just as he flickered out of sight.

Tap, tap, tap.
Shai jumped. Who could be at her door at this late hour?