The Wounded (The Woodlands Series) (31 page)

Joseph had all his notes
from Salim about the Superiors’ compound sitting in his lap, studying them intensely. No one wanted to talk. There was nothing to do but drive, stop, move obstacle, drive, stop, move obstacle. Each kilometer we gained was like a bead on a guilty thread. The longer it got, the worse we felt.

We finally moved past the city and onto the M53.

I stopped dead, four cars idling behind me. A long horn beep sounded out, bouncing and dashing over the cracked bitumen. But I wasn’t sure where to go.

In front of us was a horror in standstill.
Cars spilled over the edges of what was left of the road. Doors were left open, hanging off rusty hinges, falling slowly down to the ground. I looked to my left and saw one machine crouching in the high grass, far away from the others, but not far enough to escape the destruction.

Everything was touched
and owned by the fire. Burned out and charcoaled. I gripped the steering wheel and inched forward, following the double yellow line in the center of the road. The road ran like a grey ribbon on the earth, but it was dirty and frayed, cut in at all angles because we were driving through thousands of peoples’ last desperate moments.

The car crept forward. Sometimes I had to move off the road and over
to the grass, the stalks grazing the underbelly of the metal beast, making papery noises. I know it was hundreds of years ago, but I swear I could smell the smoke and almost hear the voices. Joseph’s eyes were scraping the horizon instead of looking at papers now. Everyone was pensively staring out their windows as we wound in and out of different families’ horror stories.

After about
fifty kilometers, the burnt-out cars started to fall away. There was more space to wind through. A lot of them, very suddenly, seemed to have veered to the left and right like an invisible obstacle stood right in the center, leaving the road itself clear. I shuddered as I pictured the people scattering as planes dropped bombs on them like giant black balloons, their only promise… an end.

I pushed down on
the accelerator, putting as much distance between us and that moment in time as I could, feeling the car rumble beneath me like an animal approaching its prey.

*****

Rash broke the silence with, “I need to take a piss, like now!”

And as soon as he said
it, the rest of us needed to go as well.

I pulled to the side, th
e tires grazing the gravelly edge of the road. The other three cars parked behind me.

Rash sprung from the car like he was on fire and sprinted off into the high grass. “Be careful…” I shouted after
him, but he was just a flash of black hair hovering above the greenery that grazed my shoulders and rose to Joseph’s chest. I watched him zig and zag until he stopped near a rusted truck. I could only see his face, but he seemed relieved. I turned away, smirking at his ridiculous behavior. Joseph headed into the grass towards where Rash stood. All the men decided that was the place to go. The women, Olga and me, chose a cluster of trees and bushes for privacy. We moved through the grass, instantly enveloped by it. Olga completely disappeared from view. The only way I knew she was there was by the huffing and puffing as she waddled her awkward body like a bulldozer through the shrubs. It made me smile.

When I got back to the
car, Joseph was leaning against the door with his arms folded neatly across his chest. “Where’s Rash?” I asked.

Joseph stared down at me with an amused expression and tipped his head east. I followed his
gaze, but I couldn’t see much. Joseph grabbed my waist, lifted me onto the hood of the car, and then followed me. I scanned the grasslands and saw a dark head walking or almost creeping towards a group of deer. There was one male with short, twisted antlers and about thirty females. I focused on it more carefully, picking out the details that didn’t quite fit. The paler hide, almost the same color as some of the drying patches of grass, the thin, less muscular body. Its skin was thick but loose around its gut, like a skinnier creature had stepped into this hide. It wasn’t a deer. I didn’t know what it was. Its snout looked like the end of faucet. Its giant, black eyes suddenly pricked at Rash’s presence.

“What the hell is that?” I asked no one in particular.

Gus’s rough voice answered as he shook his head, a slight smile playing on the thin bit of lip I could see between his bristly beard. “Saiga. Good hide, good meat,” he said. I found myself wishing Alexei were here. He would have had something more for me than hide and meat. “But…” His chest vibrated with a small laugh.

“But what?” I
asked, standing up on the thin metal for a better view, the hood dimpling under my slight weight.

“Just watch
,” he said slyly.

Rash crept closer, holding his hands
up, and pointed at the saiga. Then he touched his nose, and laughed. I watched as the animals jolted to alertness, and the horned one’s snout wobbled and flared.
Oh Rash, get out of there
. But of course, he didn’t. He seemed completely unaware of the male’s show of aggression and continued closer. It was only when the male tilted his head downwards and stamped his foot that Rash seemed to understand something was up. It launched into a gallop with its head down, ready to butt Rash out of the field.

Joseph shook his
head, but he was smiling as we watched Rash sprinting through the grass with the odd-looking creature charging towards him. Rash was quick, but not quick enough to escape a horn to his back. I watched as it caught the back of his shirt and split it open, covering the creature’s face. It was enough to stop it as it shook furiously and confusedly, trying to dislodge the fabric from its eyes.

I jumped from the hood and ran towards him. He
stumbled out of the grass, his complexion a pale brown, sweat drops dotting his stupid, smiling face.

He slung his arm around my shoulders
. I put mine around his waist, pulling him to me. “Damn it, Rash, that was so stupid.”

I patted his back
gently, feeling the sweat. Wiping my hand on my pants in disgust, I noticed it was red. I spun him around to look at his back. He was grazed all over. Nothing too deep, but enough to scare me. I wanted it to scare him. He couldn’t behave like that when we reached the Rings. “You’re an idiot,” I snapped.

“Aw, Soar, don’t be like that
. It was funny, right?” he moaned.

The other
’s laughed, slapping their thighs, and wiping tears from their eyes. Olga bowed her head, but she was giggling. Even she found it funny.

I let a smile peek
in, but my meaning needed to be clear. “Funny but stupid, Rash. You can’t do stuff like that in the Rings. Funny gets you killed.”

“Ooh
, so serious,” he mocked.

I slapped
his back hard and watched as he bent over in pain. I stood over his folded body, my hands on my hips. “Imagine that pain, times a thousand, and you might get close to what you’ll be feeling if they catch you.”

“
All right, all right,” he said, trying to catch his breath. “I get your point.”

I offered my
hand, and he took it. “Good.”

We walked back to the car, the other men straightening and coughing as I passed them. I knew it was
harsh, but I couldn’t lose him too. I needed him to understand what was at stake. This wasn’t some great adventure. We were about to start a war. I needed him to shake off some of his comedy and start thinking like a soldier, like a Survivor.

I swung into the back of the car, Joseph on one side of me and Rash sliding in gingerly on the other, sitting forward like he couldn’t bear to lean back on the seat. Joseph leaned in and whispered in my ear, “Not that I didn’t enjoy
seeing him suffer, but what was that all about?”

I sat staring forward, too angry to whisper. “
He needs to learn,” I snapped.

“Right you are!” Pelo exclaimed from the front seat.

And then I stared at my lap, refusing to talk to any of them. Because the truth was I really, really wished it wasn’t the case. I wished Rash could be Rash without consequences, and we could live freely. It was just another reminder of why this needed to happen.

Things always get ruined. You think you’re in control and that you have your hands on the reins. But I’m starting to think either someone else is driving, or the reins are attached to nothing. Just flapping and snapping in the breeze. What could be simple, never is.

We decided to stop for the night on the outskirt
s of what was left of a tiny town. It seemed so insignificant that it escaped the bombing. It was a husk. Dry and dull as the dust that clung to the simple brick buildings.

We parked the ca
rs behind a water tank. Gus untied the sorry saiga he’d shot from the front bar of the car and threw it over his shoulders. We walked into the first building we came across. A modest brick home, with out-of-place, aqua-painted window frames. The door crumbled as Matthew pushed it open. We stomped over the pile of rotting wood and threw our packs down in what must have been the lounge. The night air poured through the roofless building, like a bucket of cold water.

One of the men kicked in what was left of a
wood-framed sofa, breaking it into pieces and building a fire in the center of the room. I could hear Gus sharpening his knives and getting ready to skin the animal outside.

Joseph walked into the kitchen and turned on the tap
, leaning down to drink as the water slowly turned from brown to clear.

Tonight
we could relax, or at least try to. Tomorrow, it was a short drive, and then we would hike into thicker woods towards the Superiors’ compound.

Smoke puffed gently
past the rafters and into the air. The moon was a cut C-shape, barely casting any light. Delicious smells filled the room as Gus fried large saiga steaks over the fire.

“That’s what you get for messing with me,” Rash said
, staring at the steak between his hands. Gus leaned dangerously close to the fire and snatched the steak from Rash’s greasy fingers.

“That’s what you get for disrespecting you
r food,” he growled through his bristled beard.

Rash blinked in shock, fully expecting Gus to hand it back, which he didn’t. I searched through my pack and handed him a packet of crackers and some cheese.

One of the Survivor’s chirped up, his voice rough and cheery, “And that’s what you get for messing with Gus!”

We all laughed as Rash sulked and swore over his meager dinner.

The Survivors’ faces were masked in firelight, smudging shadows under their eyes, which shone orange, like they were monsters. Kind-hearted monsters. They joked and jostled until the conversation turned to the mission. The laughs burned off their faces and the ready soldiers returned.

I let their talk transform into stories and fairytales. I knew my part. I would let my imagination shelter me tonight.

As evening changed to nighttime we all shifted and yawned, separating into the various rooms to sleep.

Rash whispered to me as we parted at a doorway, “Can I trade p
artners with you? That Gus guy and me have a personality clash. You know, we just don’t… gel.” He rubbed his palms together. He didn’t really mean it. And maybe we weren’t supposed to joke about this stuff but this was his way of saying ‘I’m sorry it has to be you.’

I shook my head, “And you and Joseph, you think you gel?”

He tipped his head and slapped my back, “Point taken Soar,” and sidled off towards another room.

We rolled out our
sleeping bags, and once inside Joseph flipped onto his back and fell asleep immediately. I lay on my side with my arms close to my chest, thinking about Orry, wondering what part of the sky he was watching, what he was doing, and worrying. Apella pierced my thoughts in small snatches. She would always be a mystery to me. Images appeared of when we’d first met underground, her hair always a curtain hiding her from the rest of the world. She kept so much inside for so long, and now she was buried with her secrets. I sighed and rolled onto my back. Staring at the sky, I listened to the men and Olga snoring around me.