literature

Beginning of the End, Ch. 6

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6










We spend three days planning. I mapped out Russia the best I could, and then Kalani, Nate and I planned around that.
First, we would need to actually get into the gates. To do that, we would need to seem like residents from somewhere else, for the officials in Reaha (Kalani told me that is what the main city was called) keeps tabs on everybody. And to seem like residents from elsewhere, we will actually need to get into a  different city, to see how the residents act.
In the last hour we will spend the cave, Lana and I put on the dresses that we have found in the chests at the bottoms of the bed, and, to our disgust, they are heavy and tight; not easy to fight in. We hide our knives up our sleeves. The boys put on some slacks that aren't dirty, and white, long sleeved tunics that hide their belts, where their knives are hidden.
Nate looks nervous, biting his thumb nail, as we sit around the table. Heath is sliding his knife in and out of his belt; Lana tucking the same piece of hair behind her ear over and over; Camri is staring at the oak table, as if he was bid to memorize it's every notch and swirl. I sit, cross legged, playing with the sleeve of my dress. Kalani is the only one who seems relatively calm, his hands behind his head, feet up on the table.
"Remember," Nate finally says, "our story is we were attacked by a vicious, savage, group while traveling—"
Kalani interrupts him.
"Relax, Nathan. We've been over this at least forty times in the past hour. We know how to fight; if they believe us, we're in. If they don't, we're the best group there is. We have Darya!"
I pretend to be straightening my dress as their five eyes turn to me, trying to avoid the awkwardness of the statement.
Nate sighs, looking back at Kalani, shooting daggers with his eyes. Then he continues. "Remember," he repeats, "we each have partners. Darya is—"
"—your wife," I say, clenching my jaw. I'm slightly annoyed by this, but it worked out best that way; I know that Nate didn't do it on purpose.
"—and Lana—"
"—is Camri's," Lana says, at the same time Camri says, "Is mine."
"Right. Kalani is—"
"—your brother," Kalani says. "That's going to be hard to pull off," he adds, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "seeing as we're twins and all."
"It could all go wrong with one slip!" Nate snaps. I secretly agree with Nate; we could end up dead because of this. But Kalani is also right. We've drilled this into our heads so well. He takes a deep breath and continues. "Heath, you are—"
"—Lana's older brother," he grunts, again sliding his knife out of his belt.
"Would you stop that!" Lana cries suddenly, jumping up. "It makes me nervous—I already am—and I don't need to be even more!"
Heath winces, pushing the knife back in for a final time. "Sorry," he says, "I didn't know I was doing that."
Kalani stands up in his chair, stretching.
"It's probably getting light. We should head out, now."
I stand up, too, checking my knives are in place. Heath picks up the backpack that has firearms stealthily stored into secret compartments that Kalani has sewn in. They have cloth wrapped around them, and it seems like nothing more than a random bulge if you run your hand over it. It has a spare change of clothes for everybody, which are more comfortable than what we have on now. We also have the flashlight, and a small amount of food. We have to leave everything else down in the cave. If the plan doesn't work, but we live, we can come back for our packs. If the plan doesn't work and we die, well, it'll just help the next group that stumbles upon it. If the plan does work, we won't need them anymore.
Camri, Lana and Nate all stand up, and we put out the torches. Then we make our way back down the tunnel to the entrance. Kalani pulls himself up the rope first. Lana and I go last, and Camri is already kindling a small fire made out of green wood so it smokes when we reach the top. Heath is adding onto it, and soon it's a roaring bonfire, billowing black smoke raising into the sky, the piercing light of the morning sun making it stand out, like a large sign pointing to our exact location, screaming, "We're here! We're here! We're here!"
"Now, we take our positions and wait."
Nate takes a seat on the ground in the clearing.
I sit down on the log next to Nate, and he takes my hand, just like we planned. I grip it tightly, out of nervous energy. Camri puts his arm around Lana, who buries her face in her hands. Weather this is because she is truly scared, or wants to seem it, I don't know. Heath crouches next to the fire, poking at the flames with a stick.  Nerves seems to have finally reached Kalani, for he is pacing back and forth behind Lana and Camri.
Ten minutes ticks by.
Fifteen more minutes pass.
Heath stands up, running his hand through his red hair and taking up pacing like Kalani.
Thirty minutes. I stand up suddenly for no apparent reason, not realizing I'm still holding Nate's hand, and I accidentally pull him up with me. Startled, I let go, and blood comes rushing back in to my hand. Nate shakes his out; it was as if we were holding onto each other like our lives depended on it. I sit back down, tenderly picking up his hand again.
"Sorry," I murmur. He shakes his head, as if to say he doesn't care; he was, after all, holding on just as tight.
Five more minutes go by, but they seem like hours. Then I hear a noise in the forest, the crunching of leaves. Instinctively, I reach for where my belt should be, but Nate puts his other hand on my shoulder. A lost villager wouldn't think to do that, nor would they have ears able and adept enough to hear the small noise. Across from us, I see Camri and Lana tensing, too.
There's more crunching, and my hand is itching to have a knife in it's hand. I feel naked without it.
Then,
"Put your hands where I can see them!"
Lana screams. I jerk around, and see eleven men, Hoistles, emerging from the forest into the clearing, forming a circle around us, all pointing guns.
Kalani said this is what they would probably tell us to do. Still holding onto Nate's hand, I raise both of mine into the air.
"Stand up," a man in front of us says. He has a hard face, deep black eyes, dark brown hair chopped short. He's tall, the tallest of the lot, and suddenly I realize that this is a Hostile I wouldn't want to cross paths with.
Nate and I stand up in unison, and I hear Lana and Camri doing the same. Both Heath and Kalani, already standing, have stopped pacing.
"Who are you?" he demands.
"Please," Heath says in his deep voice. "We were attacked by Savages—"
"And who's to say you're not Savages yourself?" a stockier man, who is  standing next to the tall one interrupts. The latter gives the stocky man a disapproving look, and turns back to Heath.
"You were attacked by Savages? Please tell me, what were you even doing out here? Everybody knows it's against Restrictions."
We were afraid of this.
"We were traveling, sir," Lana cries. "To a different city! We had escort, but—"
"Oh you had escort all right," the stocky man sneers.
"Shut up," the tall man snaps. "Why were you traveling?" he asks, this time addressing Nate.
"We were going to live with some cousins of mine, in a different city," Nate says. "But we really don't care about that anymore," he adds desperately, "we just want to get to the nearest village."
"What happened to your escort?"
"We were attacked, sir," Kalani replied, "like we said."
"And I suppose the Savages were nice enough to allow you to live, go freely?" the stocky man jeered.
"I SAID, SHUT UP!" the tall man bellows. The small man flinches and quivers under the glare of what is obviously his superior. Having gotten his message through, he asks, "What happened to your escort? How did you escape the Savages?"
"Our escort was noble," I say. "They created a diversion long enough for us to get away. They…" I break off. I take a deep breath, pretending to be choked up. "They wanted us to be safe." My lower lip quivers, and I bury my face in Nate's shoulder. He wraps his arms around me, rubbing my back. Nobody says anything.
Finally, I pull my head up, enough to look the tall man in the eyes. "Please. I'm hungry, I'm tired, and I'm scared. I just want to sleep in a bed, where I know my husband and I can be safe."
The man considers us for a long while. My stomach is churning, threatening to send my mornings breakfast back up.
"I, for one, don't believe them," the stocky man says loudly.
"SINCE WHEN DID YOUR OPINION MATTER, BALINSKI?" the man in charge bellowed. "YOU WILL SHUT YOUR MOUTH WHEN YOU'RE TOLD TO, UNDERSTOOD?"
There is silence throughout the clearing, only broken by the sound of flapping wings and offended chirping; the man had scared away the birds, and probably alerted any group within a seven mile radius of our presence.
He was breathing heavily. The stocky man, Balinski, said, "Yes, Navyn."
"I'm glad we're on the same page, now, Balinski." The man (Balinski had called him Navyn) turns to us. "Come with us. We'll take you to Mansfeld, see if we can get you a place to stay there."
I almost pass out. It worked. Our plan has actually worked.
"Come on, we've got a hovercraft over in Carreol. There's going to be a bit more walking to do. Do you need any food? You must be very hungry."
"Yes. We're all very hungry. We've had barely anything to eat for two days."
"Of course you are," Navyn says gruffly. "Fidel, get them some food. Now. Let's start walking."
And so we set off, a pack of dehydrated food in each of our hands, the Hostiles forming a protective bubble around us. As we go on, I start to realize that the man in charge may not have said okay to taking us to a village, he may not have even believed us, if it hadn't been for his obvious loathing of Balinski. He was unmistakably going out of his way to annoy the man. Our story was convincing, but if the man had been undistracted, or if there had been a different,  unbiased man in charge,  he may have seen through our deception.
I cling onto Nate's arm, and he squeezes my hand.
We made it.
chapter 6 of Beggining of the End.
All characters, plot, excreta: (c) me
Do not use this novel/writing/idea for any purposes other than reading for your enjoyment.
I think this will be the last I post of this novel. I'm working on it again, as I may have already said. It's coming along well, I think. But I'm getting to a part in the novel where I kind of was just like, "Fuck it, I'm just going to write, I don't care if it looks like shit." And I doubt you want to read that. haha.
© 2011 - 2024 Parker-Strom
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DarknessAngel13's avatar
Aw, I still want to read it, even if it is shit (which I doubt), because now I'm going to be dying to know what happens next...