Ethereal

Reckless Deeds

Air burned every time I breathed in. The smell of smoke clung to me, and I knew if I looked up, I would see the smoke streak from the orphanage following close behind me. I had only ever traveled to the neighboring villages when the Matron’s needed help transporting crops during harvest season, but I had always been in the back of the truck and never paid great attention to how far the villages were. All I knew was that they existed east of the fields.

I started to slow down, the muscles in my legs beginning to cramp. I wondered dully if the village was close. I wouldn’t have been surprised if it was miles away and I would have to walk for the rest of the day to get there. What if the Rebels tried to follow me? I was out in the open, the bare field offering no protection. If someone did see me and tried to pursue, I’d have to run – and from the tightness in my chest and the lingering singe coating my airway, I knew I wouldn’t get far.

Worry built up in my chest. What if one of them had seen me at the orphanage, and they were coming down the mountain right at this very moment? I paused to turn around, my eyes squinting to try and see any moving figures at the base of the mountain. I couldn’t see any.

“Deep breaths,” I told myself, “they’re not coming for you. They’re not going to bother going after one person. I’m sure they have better things to do with their time - like spitting on puppies and telling kids that Santa Claus isn’t real.” I put my hands on my knees, trying to slow down my breathing. The logic as I was saying it made sense, but my mind was slow from the lack of oxygen, muddling the words together in a senseless heap.

I breathed in one more time before straightening, forcing my legs to move. The sun was already climbing further up into the sky, and if I wanted to make it to the township before dark I needed to keep moving. My muscles ached with each step, my boots rubbing uncomfortably against my heels. They were going to blister soon, but it was something I was just going to have to deal with.

A soft wind blew from the mountains and ruffled my sweaty hair. With every step images of the burning orphanage flooded my vision. Even though I tried to focus on the sound of my boots slurping through the mud, I could still hear their screams in the back of my head. I could feel tears brimming in my eyes, teetering on the ends of my eyelashes as if they were debating whether or not they wanted to fall. A moment passed before I felt my cheeks grow wet and I felt the makings of a sob working up my throat. I didn’t try to stop my tears, instead I let them slowly travel down my cheeks, growing steadily stronger.

I thought I had felt grief when I was separated from my family, but the intensity of this emotion was something I had never experienced before.

What was I going to do now? When I was first leaving the orphanage, I had a plan, with people depending on me to see it through. Now that they were gone, where was I going to go? How was I going to survive?

My mind whirled with different thoughts that I couldn’t make sense of, muddling together until my brain felt like mush. All I knew was that I needed to make it to the nearest village and as far away as I could get from the rebels. I could figure things out later.

Something suddenly latched itself onto my foot, almost popping my hip out of its socket as I fell onto my hands and knees in the thick mud. I sat back on my heels and flipped around to see who was behind me, but there was no one.

I heard a thick hiss by my feet. My eyes turned downward just as the soil seemed to come alive, slowly swallowing my feet into the earth. I couldn’t stop the scream that came tearing out from my lips as I tried to rip my legs out of the earth’s grip. But the harder I tried to pull, the deeper I continued to sink.

My voice cracked and faltered as I called for help, my nails and hair caked in mud as I tried clawing my way out. The soil proved to have too strong of a hold, however, as I sank further and further into the earth. It was up to my knees now, dragging me deeper into the dark grave that waited for me below.

I opened my mouth to let out one last cry for help when I felt the pressure lift from my legs. I turned back around to investigate, my lips trembling as I realized I was back on solid ground and no longer sinking deep into the earth.

Pushing myself upright, I looked down at the spot in the mud where I had been trapped just moments ago. There wasn’t a hole or indent anywhere to be seen, leaving no explanation as to what had happened.

“It’s all in your head,” I told myself, rubbing the sides of my temple as I began to walk back towards the direction of the town. Yes, it must have been a hallucination. That can happen to a person after they’ve seen something traumatic, right?

I pushed down any other thoughts and bubbling emotions about the mysterious sinkhole that came and went without warning, forcing myself to focus on finding the township instead. My fingers continued to tremble as I ushered myself forward, taking care not to let my feet sink too deeply into the mud as I walked.

Time seemed to slip past me, the sun cutting my shadow shorter and shorter until it seemed to disappear beneath my feet. The heat of the mid-afternoon sun was brutal and unforgiving, the cloudless sky offering me no relief.

I had used up the last of my water an hour ago, and since then a dry patch had steadily been forming behind my throat. While I found several spots where the mountain streams flowed into the fields, I decided against filling up my boa just yet. The stream that I had drunk from in the mountains was clear, cleaned by the constant filtration of the soil and surrounding plant life. Only now the same stream that flowed from the mountains and into the fields was slow moving, making it cloudy with mud and sediment. There was no way I was drinking muddy water unless I absolutely needed to.

With the unrelenting heat of the sun and my empty boa hitting me against my side with every step, dehydration was never far from my mind. My lips dried out along with my tongue, scraping uncomfortably against the roof of my mouth. A headache that started from the back of my head crawled upwards until my brain seemed to pulse with pain.

The sun was soon baking the back of my head and the mountains that were still looming behind me had grown smaller than they were before. I sat down into the dirt and put my head between my knees, squeezing my eyes shut to block out the sunlight. The urge to sleep hit me then, my exhaustion persuading me to curl up into a ball and bury myself into the dirt.

“Hey, miss,” said a voice, “are you alright there?”

I looked up, spotting an elderly gentleman looking down at me. He had a scraggily reddish-gray beard with a shiny bald head, his grey eyes seemed kind and unjaded. I straightened and looked around, seeing several small buildings in the distance. I was so preoccupied with how tired and thirsty I was that I hadn’t even realized I had nearly made it to the village!

“Is that a village over there in the distance?” I asked him, even though I already knew the answer. I let out a huff of relief when the man nodded.

“It’s the last one around, actually. Got word from the folks that got out of the Citadel before it got burned down. The rebels managed to take nearly every town before leaving west through the mountains. We figured their gonna head for the Sacramento Providence now.” He said.

“That makes sense,” I said, and it did. I was worried that the Rebels were going to follow me out of the mountains and try to track me down, but I had completely neglected to consider that they might have a bigger agenda. They were aiming to bring down the last Citadel.

“So, uh,” said the old man, scratching his greying beard, “you come from the Citadel then? Or maybe one of the other villages? We’ve been getting a few of them throughout the last day, but not many.”

I shook my head, feeling a sharp pain behind my eyes. I knew if my body had any water left to spare, I would have started crying right then and there. “I came from the orphanage.” I said, pointed to a spot in the mountains. A thick column of smoke was still rising up into the air, making it easy to see.

“Ah,” he said, his eyes widening with realization, “we were wondering where the smoke was coming from. It’s a shame, a real tragedy.” He paused when I didn’t say anything else, shuffling awkwardly from foot to foot. “A government truck just drove into town a couple hours ago to refuel. Some of the Citadel’s agents were able to pull out at the last minute I guess, and they’ve been handing out food and blankets to people. They’re saying they gotta leave soon, though, they want to bring extra supplies to the Sacramento Providence.”

I leaned forward, my eyes scanning the village behind him. He was right; I could see a large black truck parked next to one of the buildings with a small group steadily forming around it.

“You’ll wanna head over now if you want to get something before they run out of food.” He said.

“Do you have any water?” I asked him. He nodded, holding his hand out to help me stand. I took his hand, pulling myself onto my shaky legs as I took his flask and swallowed three big gulps before handing it back to him. The water was already helping to take the edge off my headache, but my body was still begging for more.

The man smiled before he turned away, walking back towards the township. I followed after him, feeling better than I did before. The buildings grew bigger the closer we neared the village, and suddenly I found myself standing in line behind the government truck, watching a Citadel official dressed in a dark grey uniform and a black mask hand out black bundles to the people in front of me. I had only seen Citadel officials a handful of times, but seeing them with their black gas masks never failed to send a shiver down my spine.

I frowned as I peered over the people in front of me, trying to see what exactly was in the bundle.

“What are they handing out…?” I turned around to ask the old man, but he was gone. The woman that stood behind me gave me an odd look but didn’t say anything.

“Step forward!” the Citadel official said. I turned to see he was talking to me, a grey bundle held out in his hand. I rushed forward and grabbed it from him, trying to avoid looking at my glassy reflection in his mask while I mumbled an apology as I moved to the other side of the truck. I knelt on the ground and opened the bundle.

The bundle itself was merely a grey tarp, carefully folded to hold a bottle of iodine, a box of matches, and a liter-sized bottle filled with clear water. I shrugged and ripped open the cap, downing all of its contents before pocketing the bottle back into the tarp. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

I pulled off my bag and started to shove the bundle in until a shout pulled my attention to the back of the truck. I saw the Citadel official push the woman that had been waiting in line behind me away from the truck. The crowd of people began to shout at the official, their faces contorted in anger. They must have run out of grey bundles.

Several other officials rushed past me with long black sticks in their hands. They formed a line as they pushed into the crowd, shoving everyone backwards. I threw my bag back onto my shoulders and watched as the officials tried to dispel the crowd, but more and more people seemed to materialize out of the mud and the officials were soon outnumbered, even with their black sticks.

“Get the truck started,” an official said to the driver as he walked past me. “the crowd’s getting out of control and we need to get moving if we’re going to get to Sacramento by the end of the week.” The driver nodded to the official, bringing the truck roaring to life a moment later.

As I stood there next to the rattling truck, a strange feeling washed over me. They were going to the Sacramento Providence, the last Citadel. It would be insane of me to try and go there now, especially with the rebels headed there at this very instant. No matter how loudly my logic tried to talk me down, one thought echoed through my head again and again.

I could find my family.

My feet seemed to move on their own, taking me to the back of the truck. The officials had their backs turned to me, and the crowd of people had their attention directed elsewhere, making it easy for me to climb into the bed of the truck without being noticed.

I stood in the belly of the large metal interior. I sat down behind a stack of crates and tucked my feet in towards my body so I wouldn’t be seen. It wasn’t until I heard the slam of the truck’s metal door and the click of the lock that I realized they had locked me inside. A wave of panic enveloped me, tearing down the strange daze that had convinced my dulled logic to crawl into a government truck driving towards an upcoming bloodbath.

“Well, Nor,” I said to myself. What was I doing? What was I thinking? If they find me, they might kill me on the spot for sneaking onto their truck. “looks like you’re in it this time.” I said, my voice keeping to a whisper.

Fear settled into my bones, picking up my heart rate and causing my breathing to become erratic. I put my head between my knees, trying to calm down. I felt the truck jerk forward, knocking me into the wooden crates next to me as we began to move forward.

The Sacramento Providence was warmer than the Colorado River Providence, and the area was known for their year-round sun and warmth. They were next to an ocean; I could fish for food and look for my own water. If I stayed out of trouble, and the Citadel found a way to keep out the rebels, I could survive. And once I got settled, I could begin searching for my family. A cold voice in the back of my head whispered to me right then, reminding me that I knew exactly where my family was.

The Camp.