The Outcast Ones (15 page)

“I was just looking for Finn, we wanted to go hunting. You haven’t seen him, by any chance?”

“Finn went out early this morning. Why don’t you take Cleo?”

“Me?” I’m horrified. Just the thought of killing an animal makes me panic.

“You don’t have to come, it’s not really a girl thing. I can ask the twins.”

Then I think of Iris, and the birthday I promised her. She would probably love to roast meat over a fire in the evening, like people used to do. It would also show the others that I’m not cut out for spying. Well, actually, I’d like to prove it to one particular person. So I quickly change my mind.

“I’ll come. It’s time I made myself useful.”

Paul lifts one eyebrow. “Are you sure you haven’t crossed paths with Finn today? That could have been something he said.”

“Well then, he’s right.” I pull on the green parka. I won’t make the same mistake as yesterday, wandering around in the sun with bare arms while my skin peels like a snake’s.

In the light of day, the forest is far more beautiful than in the night when I ran away. Instead of rain and storm, the sun shines through the tops of the trees, making the green moss shine under my boots. It squelches at every step. Fine fir needles fall on my shoulders as we walk through the underbrush. We’ve only met a couple of frightened birds, no other animals so far.

I don’t know whether to be happy about that or not. I still don’t want to have a hand in the death of a rare, innocent animal, but on the other hand, I  want to make sure Iris has a great birthday.

Paul holds his hand up for me to stop. Excited, I follow his gaze and see a small animal with a bushy red tail as it disappears behind a tree. It reminds me of young Emily and I ask myself, horrified, if Paul really wants to shoot that beautiful thing. But he’s already lowering his gun. “It’s just a squirrel.”

We move on and I grin, but Paul shoves me in the side. “Are you happy about that?”

“Er...no...”

“Yes you are, I can see it by the tip of your nose. Look, I don’t enjoy shooting the furry things either, but a good roast is just so much better than just vegetable stew all the time.”

“I understand. Do you cook the meat over a fire sometimes?”

“Like grilling? Sure, especially if there’s something to celebrate.”

“That’s good.”

“Why? Got a reason?”

“Not me. Iris—it’s her birthday.”

He looks at me sideways. “How do you...”

“Of course we don’t know exactly, but she wants a party too. Like Emily.”

“Oh, I get it.” Paul grins. “Are we going to be the cooks, then?”

“Sure, can you help me bake a cake for her?”

“Me?” He laughs. “You’d better ask Florence, but make sure she doesn’t blab to Iris or the surprise will be ruined.”

When he talks about her, his eyes shine like Gustav’s do when he looks at Marie. This is what people call love. But who decides who’s going to fall in love? And how do you even know?

“Are you and Florence...together? Is that what it’s called?”

Paul rubs a hand over his short hair and looks away. “We’re a couple, why do you ask?”

“How long?”

“More than two years. It was love at first sight...” He smirks and goes on. “...at least on my part. Men want to hunt, and women want to be conquered, if you follow me.”

I don’t follow, but I like it that Paul treats me like one of their own, and not like a leper. “You saw her and you knew straight away that you love her?”

“Yes, I would have married her on the spot.”

I didn’t think people still got married these days. But then, I didn’t think that people were even capable of loving and having relationships any more. “You’re married, then?”

“No, Florence keeps turning me down, but I’m not about to give up. She says the world is too uncertain to get married.”

“Maybe that’s exactly why you should,” I begin carefully.

Paul agrees enthusiastically. “That’s what I say! But tell that to Florence. She’s being stubborn about it. Well, actually she’s just stubborn in general, but she likes you.”

The first time I saw Finn, I’m sure I didn’t want to marry him. I didn’t even like him—quite the opposite. I was afraid of him, and that’s often true even now. In love? No way. But maybe Finn is in love with someone else altogether. Maybe that’s why he’s so angry with me, because I’m here instead of her. “Are Finn and Zoe a couple?”

“What?” Paul is horrified. “Of course not. Where do you get that idea?”

“Finn misses her, so I thought maybe she’s his girlfriend. No one wants to tell me who she is.”

Paul sighs and rolls his eyes. “He’ll kill me if I tell you, but it’s not even a big thing. He makes it all so much more complicated by refusing to talk about her.”

“Then you tell me who she is!”

He struggles with himself, looks at the sky as if to find an answer there. He kicks a small stone with the tip of his shoe, and it skips along the ground. “Dammit. She’s his little sister.”

My eyes go wide and I feel strangely relieved, although it shouldn’t make any difference at all. “What happened?”

“It was a year ago, in the same attack where their parents died and Emily’s dad, too. Zoe was only sixteen. First, we thought they killed her too, but later our informers told us she’d been recruited. Ever since, Finn has been planning to free her. You know how disappointed he was when you showed up here instead of her. She knew he was coming for her, she just didn’t know when. Why did she have to pee right then? Couldn’t she hold on for five minutes? Typical girl!” He finishes with a growl and shakes his head.

I try not to take it personally. Of course everyone would prefer it if Zoe was here, she’s one of them and has been from the beginning. “She was very nervous that night.”

“Please don’t mention it to Finn, he’d be more than disappointed in me.”

I shake my head. The trail takes a sharp bend to the right.

“We’ll go towards the river. The animals need to drink just like we do, and if there are none there, we can try to catch a few fish at least.”

A few minutes later I hear the water splashing. It’s more of a small creek than a river, and the water is only ankle-deep.

At first glance there are no animals on the riverbank, but then there’s a flash of brown fur a little farther into the bushes. Carefully, we creep closer, but the animal doesn’t move. Finally we reach it, but its eyes are lifeless and its pink tongue hangs out of its open mouth. A desert fox, dead.

“Come on, we can’t do anything with that. Leave the meat for the vultures and their kind. The water gets deeper not far from here, maybe we can get some fish.”

“But...why is the fox dead?”

“Maybe a bear or a coyote got him. Or maybe he ate something bad. There was a time, the Legion used to poison the creek.”

“Why would they do something like that?”

“To kill us,” he says as though it’s obvious. “Since then, we have the well, so at least they can’t influence our water.”

A wailing sound makes me stop. Paul doesn’t seem to have noticed, because he keeps going. Maybe I heard wrong? But then, just as I want to take another step, I hear it again. It’s weak and very hard to hear. Uncertain, I turn and look back at the fox’s corpse. The fur moves suddenly. Could it be alive?

I hurry back.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Paul calls, but stays where he is.

I look at the animal’s stiff face. Little flies surround its mouth. It’s definitely dead. But then comes the cry again, and there’s movement at the fox’s breast. The same light brown fur. Curious, I crouch down and tilt my head.

Frightened, amber-coloured eyes look back at me. The pup stretches its nose and sniffs the air, and suddenly its whole head emerges from under its dead mother.

“Paul, look!” I call out, both amazed and sad.

He’s already right behind me. His face is long. “Little guy won’t make it.”

Tragic truth. The desert fox is tiny, hardly as big as my hand. Desperately he pulls at his mother’s teats, but there’s nothing there.

“But we have milk from the goats and sheep.”

Paul raises his eyebrows in disbelief. He knows what I’m thinking. “It’s hardly enough for us as it is.”

I imagine settling down with Iris to sleep in my bed. I will be thinking of the little desert fox all alone in the forest, cowering by his mother’s body. I won’t sleep a wink.

“Everyone gets a glass of milk a day, right?”

Paul raises his arms. “Yes, but...”

I don’t let him finish. I know what he’ll say. Instead, I reach a hand towards the little animal.

“Don’t be scared,” I whisper. The pup watches me and smells me. He’s alone, no mother, no siblings. He’s like Iris and me. I know Iris will love him. Probably even more than I will.

The young fox dares to take a wobbly step towards me. His legs shake and his fur is matted with dirt and blood. When I place my hand under his belly and lift him up, he doesn’t resist, he only lays his ears flat. They’re enormous for such a tiny body.

When I look up at Paul, he’s smiling. “You’re crazy, know that?”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I just shrug. Paul pats me on the head. “Come on, now we really need some meat, so the little one won’t starve. Do you have a name for him?”

“Iris can decide.”

“That’s the best birthday present you could ever find. Emily will be jealous! The girls will fight to be the one to feed him. Just Finn won’t be so happy.”

“Isn’t that normal?”

The next morning, I sneak out of our comfortable room while it’s still dark, and head to the kitchen. There I find Florence, Grace and Marie, who have all promised to teach me the fine art of baking. The little fox is there too, sucking greedily from a bottle in Florence’s hands. He spent the night with her and Paul so that Iris wouldn’t see him yet. But now that I see how Florence loves on the pup, I wonder if she’ll really give him back.

There will be cranberry pie just like on Emily’s birthday. But we’re also going to decorate the round table in the middle of the room—with flowers.

Unfortunately, it seems I’m not that great at baking or arranging flowers. I don’t have the patience for it. Grace can weave a whole wreath, but I can’t even tie up a bouquet without flowers falling out. Making the pie works out okay, but I fail terribly at decorating it. Still I insist on not giving up, because this is for Iris so I have to keep trying. In the end, it doesn’t look quite like Emily’s, but at least Iris will know I made it.

Time flies by and the sun is already high when I take Grace’s flower wreath and hurry back to our room. I get there just in time, because Iris is sitting up and rubbing her eyes. “You’re up already!”

“That’s because today is a special day.” I grin at her and pull the wreath from behind my back. When she sees it, Iris opens her eyes wide and laughs happily.

“Happy birthday, Iris!”

Before I can blink, she’s on her feet and throws herself into my arms. I spin her around in a circle, then set her back on her feet and place the flower crown on her short hair, now a dark blonde shade. Her grey eyes shine like jewels as I lead her by the hand into the communal room.

There’s loud applause, and Jep and Pep, with guitar, sing Happy Birthday for her.

Ten little candles glow on the cranberry pie, and Iris blows them out. There are tears in her eyes. All our group has come to congratulate her, except one: Finn. No one seems to notice it except for me.

Florence passes me the little desert fox. He stares around at all the people. Iris is deep in conversation with Emily when she sees me with the animal. The two girls gape and blink

“I don’t have a present for you, but here’s a new friend, if you like.”

All else forgotten, Iris approaches me almost shyly. It’s the first time she’s ever seen a living fox, just like it was for me yesterday, and a baby one at that.

Iris stretches out a careful hand. The fox sniffs at her fingers, sticky from the pie, then his little tongue starts to lick off the sugar.

Iris giggles. “He likes me!”

I pass the little animal carefully into her arms. Although the fox has been shy and cautious up till now, he seems to soften for Iris. Maybe he can sense that she’s just as young and inexperienced as he is.

Iris and Emily discuss names for the little guy. They finally choose Dumbo, because of his big ears. Iris and I don’t know the story of Dumbo the little elephant, so Marie tells it to us while we all have breakfast. As well as the pie, there’s also a sweet bread with dried fruit in it.

That evening I help Paul make a fire. To my surprise I’m much better at this than at baking, even though I get soot all over my hands, arms and even my face. When the fire is high enough, the group joins us one by one. There’s fish and bread, and we roast potatoes, too.

How does it feel to sit with the others around the fire? It’s almost too much for me. This would never happen in the safety zone. I feel safe, I feel at home, although the caves have never been my home and never will be. My time here is limited and yet I feel like I belong, as if I were a part of something bigger.

Faces in the firelight—Florence, Paul, Grace and the others—I know them better than I ever knew anyone in the safety zone. Even C515. I’ve known him since I was old enough to think, but I hardly know anything about him. I only know why he lost a corner of his front tooth, and only because I was there. If I hadn’t seen it myself, no one would have told me. In the safety zone no one talks about feelings or thoughts. No one has a favourite food, a favourite colour or a favourite song. There isn’t even any music.

I begin to understand why the people there seem like robots to Finn and the others. They have no colour, no identity, because they are all the same. Even the thought makes me sad now, because I know it’s not true. I’m sure C515 or any other person from the safety zone could develop a personality, if they had a chance. They’re no better and no worse than the rebels. I’m sure C515 would even get on great with Paul. Sometimes they remind me of each other. Not their looks or their build, but the way they treat the people around them, always honest and considerate.

“Good job,” yells a voice right in my ear, so that I flinch, hand on racing heart. Finn sits down beside me on the log and pulls a fish from the fire.