Banished

The flickering orange light of the brazier casts long shadows across the curved sides of the tent and lights the faces around it in stark contrasts of bright and darkness. There are six of us now sharing this space and it is too many for my comfort. I have claimed a space near the open door, uncomfortable in the close quarters and needing the fresh air to sooth my sore back.

Our newest addition sits to my right, as far from Khane as possible. It is not Bel and Khane has taken the revelation with little grace, withdrawing into himself, brows furrowed darkly. I study the small boy as his attention is riveted on Aito. It is story time. Aito, sensing tension within our group, has stepped up to the challenge.

It had been a surprise to find a different person than we were expecting hiding in the cave. Not only that, but there were odd holes in his story. Every explanation sounded rehearsed and offered little in terms of details, like a story that hasn’t been fleshed out properly, like a lie. The question of him being Banished so young had been met with a shrug and a quizzical stare, as though he didn’t understand the question.

The whereabouts of Bel remain a mystery. He insists he had only glimpsed her briefly before seeing her led away by the Elite Guards, who were themselves nearly myth. There is the issue of him being found intact, as in, not hurt. Banished without a Trial? What could this small, unassuming person have done to warrant that? Nothing adds up and suspicion is a sour spice coating all our thoughts.

Tired from a long day of walking in the hot sun hadn’t improved our group’s mood either and we are maybe not as accepting as we could be. The small curly-haired boy had given his name as Heb and even that seems off to me, like he’d made it up on the spot. His skin has a dusky tone to it and his wide, unblinking eyes make it hard to interrogate him for long without your own starting to water. Finally, Aito had simply welcomed him to the group. I understood his reasons, really, what other choice is there? Leave him? What would that make us? Answer; no better than the people who supported the policy of Banishment in the first place.

I half listen to Aito’s smooth tones as he relates the heroic deeds of one of our favorite historical twists, Monkey. Monkey was a mischievous twist that led the minders on a merry chase before his capture and Trial. Many stories came from his time in the compound and he is a source of great pride among us. Of course, he was caught and killed during his Trial, but the stories always focus on his crazy antics, to inspire us to live life to the fullest…. Until our time is over.

The cool night air washes over my back, providing some relief. The burning sensation hasn’t lessened and I feel strange in a way I can’t put words to. I don’t know if I am experiencing the after-effects of the pollen or still recovering from having used my twist. Iamrelieved to not be a pile of squishy noodles. Aito’s stolen drink must have fixed that aspect of my twist permanently. Either way, I am not in top fighting condition and that worries me. Khane and I are the only real fighters. I had been giving Naoaki lessons in knife work back at the compound but I have no idea how much she had practiced on her own. As a group, we are easy pickings.

I glance over my shoulder into the darkness, my mind drifting to the surprise of my survival. Never had I even considered the possibility of surviving this long, yet here I sit, somewhat torn and bloody but alive. My back itches something fierce, which Aito assures me is a good thing. I have been injured enough in training to know what healing feels like and this, this is worse than recovering from a broken rib. I sincerely hope that whatever medicinal plant Fish leads us to tomorrow will ease the itching, crawling, burn before I go all crazy like Monkey.

“How are you doing?” Naoaki sidles up next to me, her back to the room. “Fish says if we head Southwest tomorrow, he senses something there to help you, about a day away depending on the weather.” She whispers, so she won’t interrupt the story.

I nod, appreciating the news. I am not entirely sure how Fish’s twist works but I had seen Aito hold an empty vial under his nose earlier. It looked similar to the vial that’d contained the goop he’d fed me after my first time with my new twist. I shudder at the memory. Whatever had been in that vial from the labs had changed me fundamentally and I approved. There were times when a person’s own twist could kill them and I suspect I had been very close. The fact that the stuff had worked meant that someone is still experimenting with genetic engineering, despite the fact that getting caught is punishable by death.

I sleep fitfully that night, again plagued by wild dreams of horrible monsters chasing me. Beaked lizards with bloodied neck frills and something with tentacles covered in suckers got the closest. I wake only once, shivering as a long wetsomething slithered past, hopefully just a dream tentacle. I squint through bleary eyes. A small form is silhouetted against the night sky, a dark blur against black velvet. Most would not have been able to see it at all. I am not sure I am even awake but something goads me into following. I don’t have Naoaki’s talent for stealth, and if this is a dream it won’t matter, but I do my best to follow at a safe distance anyway. If this is not a dream, then who would leave the safety of the group in the middle of the night? For what purpose?

I follow carefully and watch as a white glow springs up. I doubt it could be seen from the tent if anyone were to look but to my eyes it is nearly as blinding as the midday sun. I stop, dazed, and take a deep breath, letting my eyes re-adjust. If this is a dream, it is very different from all the others. Once I can see again, I creep forward, pushing through the soft fronds of scrub bush. There, a short distance away, sits Aito. He is crouched over whatever is creating the glow, trying to hide it. As I get closer I see a bracelet in his hands. It has a face that is open and a round dial with different colored dots radiating outward.

“Aito?” I whisper. What is that thing? Am I dreaming?

Suddenly my head feels fuzzy. Without meaning to I find myself walking back to the tent. What an odd shift in my dream. Not a single monster tried to eat me.

Morning brings a cold drizzle. The storm that was supposed to have hit hard and move on, has decided to settle in for a while, dousing the landscape with thick fog and constant dripping. My vote is to hunker down and wait it out despite the pain in my back.

Unfortunately, we have no food or water so staying put isn’t an option. If only we had packed food and water…. It is one of those moments I might have joked ‘told you so’ with Aito….but I don’t. I keep my mouth shut, finding myself suddenly unsure of him and I don’t know why.

The next two days are a miserable repetition of motion through a grayed landscape. With the fog blanketing everything, Fish is our only means of determining direction. His constant burbling in my ear is getting on my nerves and I am angrier every step I am forced to carry him on my back. I can’t get his harness to rest comfortably no matter how I adjusted it. The raised design on my back is puffy and sore, weeping blood. I have come to accept that my knives, somehow, are now a part of me, but they won’t heal. I burn and itch like mad. I still have a fever.

So why am I carrying Fish when Khane is perfectly capable? Khane has withdrawn from us. He no longer walks with the group despite the added safety of staying together. He refuses to speak or respond to anyone and since the fog has settled in I catch only vague glimpses of him in the distance. Then he is gone again, swallowed by shifting whiteness. I assume he is in mourning for his girlfriend but in my mind I tell him what a selfish, misguided jerk he is being. We are in the wilds proper now, danger and death lurk around every clump of palms. This is not the behavior of a warrior and if I can get close enough to him I will definitely let him know.

My back is chaffed raw and it is all I can think about. Even hunger and thirst pale by comparison. I have quite a litany of choice words picked out for Khane when I get my hands on him.

Everyone’s nerves are frayed by the end of our second day. The constant wetness and the inability to see the things we know must be out there, slithering and tentacled and waiting to eat us, have us jumping at every little sound. We are tired, scared and hungry.

Thanks to Fish, we have been able to gather enough root bulbs to survive, but our bellies grumble for cooked food and water. Finally, Aito calls the day. Supposedly we are close now to the source of whatever plant he thought could help complete the healing of my back but it is too late to search for it now. Hunting through the dense fog at night is blind foolish. And yet…

As soon as the tent is up I drop Fish in the back and head out into the growing darkness. I ignore the calls from the others. I ignore all semblance of reason. I am beyond rational thought and in truth, the cold night air, so full of wetness, is a irresistible balm to the open wound of my back. I crash through low growing scrub brush without regard for danger. The way I am feeling, I would welcome a fight.