(Survival) Chapter Sixteen: The In-between Side
The heat scorched her skin like a thousand needles, baking her skin, making it bubble, boil, blacken. Rachel screamed through gritted teeth. Her stomach throbbed as John Catsor leaned over her with pinched eyebrows and staring eyes, pressing a heated metal rod against her deep wound. Thick, smokey, putrid, charred steak, burning rubber tires, stale bread, and copper pennies wafted through the air; it was by far the worst smell that John had ever encountered, but he held back the vomit that was sneaking up his throat to concentrate on the task before him, healing the shaking girl below him—he wouldn’t let another person die.
Rachel gripped the blood-stained sheets below her and arched her back with constrained waves of pain, her mind blurring, her heart soaring, her vision disappearing into white flashes, she could feel heat consuming her body, compressing her lungs, eating at her skin. She tried to fight off her body’s responses—unconsciousness was clawing at the edge of her brain—she had to be strong, she had to stay living, she had to be awake to survive. Anyone, anyone could kill her, anyone could stab her in the back: even allies.
Faith listened to the older girl’s suppressed screams in the adjacent room, staring at the torn wallpaper once vibrant with bees patterned in sporadic beauty. She tried to think of the bees. She tried to think of a time when she saw the striped jacket of a bee dipping into sunflowers or verbena. She tried to think about a time before the pain, a time of peace. But the older girl’s screams cut through those thoughts, only reminding her of their screams: her mothers, her fathers, her older sisters. Tears slowly fell from Faith’s crystal eyes. She would not sob, she would not cry out in pain, she wouldn’t scream, she wouldn’t speak, she would never let anyone hear her in pain, she wouldn’t let anyone go through what she went through—especially not Felix.
Rachel couldn’t contain her pain, no matter how hard she clenched her teeth or gripped the sheets. She felt nothing but pain. She was trusted by Bryan, but she went and failed at that, she wasn’t strong, no matter how hard she tried.
Eventually, the physical pain subsided, but the emotional pain was still lingering, hovering like the heat that beated against her outside and insides. “Rest up.” She heard John Castor whisper with his soft, soft voice, before she let her body relax, melting into the soft, soft mattress of the bed below her.
Rachel drifted off as Faith collected her tears and stood, ready to face anything that came her way.
*****
Bryan returned defeated, slouched and slow, dying on the inside like the sun. Felix stood at the edge of town, by the forming wall, gazing upon his admired Sargent with pity. Bryan looked—hopeless. Like a mighty ship without the sea.
The Sargent looked up when he trudged closer to Felix, “No luck,” he sighed and stared into the setting sun, “go get yourself some rest, I’ll cover guard duty.”
Bryan continued to gaze at the sun while Felix gazed at him. In this moment, it was like the time that they had sat on the wall, Bryan looked tired, worn out by memories, wrinkled by grief, and yet he was still pretty young.
Felix had lost the majority of his family when the town was struck by a nasty fire tornado and he had never cried more in his life than on that day. The scorching hot pain. The brightness. The force. Him clutching, grasping, clenching at anything that wasn’t on fire. Faith no where to be seen. His mother lit like a wick of a candle. His home, destroyed. His life, never the same. He became the oldest in his family, carrying the weight of responsibility to protect his younger sister.
But Bryan, looked as though he had gone through that kind of loss ten fold.
“Sir, uh—” Bryan didn’t look away from the blaring sun making Felix hesitate to ask him about his past once more, “I just was wondering what you would like me to do with these maps.” He held them limply in his hand, offering them to Bryan like a cat with a mouse.
The Sargent lethargically turned and held open his hand, “I can take them from here.”
Gently, they fell in his hands, but still Felix hesitated, “Sargent—I mean Bryan,” Bryan looked at him to continue, “why was that book so important? We have the maps, isn’t that enough?”
With a great sigh, Bryan sat down on the wall with the papers in his lap, naturally Felix did the same. “The maps, they are clues, guidance to help us travel to places that we may need for refuge, more weapon supply, safety, hospitals, food and water. But, those clues aren’t the answer.” Felix stared clueless at the man. “Inside the book are codes, codes left by people that I knew. Most of the codes are in morse, others are hidden or in riddles. These codes will tell us where those people, and people that can help us like doctors and scientists, are possibly taking refuge in. They are our mission, they are how we can win this war. But I didn’t have time to take a good look at it though before it was fucking taken.”
Felix gawked at him with awe. This book had more weight than he realized, and now it is gone.
*****
Felix was still pondering about everything that had just occurred when he entered his broken down home to find John Castor sitting with his head bowed beside Rachel wrapped in bloody bed sheets, passed out. “What the hell is going on here?!” Felix jumped back to the entrance way of the bedroom, crouched and ready to run.
Rachel, missing Rachel, was lying in the tattered burnt bed that Felix slept on—with blood. His thoughts raced, Why was there blood? What was John doing here? How did he know this place existed? It was hidden at the very edge of the village in the forest by a clearing. Where is Faith? Did they do something with her? Dammit.
John’s head bolted up, surprise ringing through him, he hadn’t heard anyone enter the room. “Felix,” so many emotions laced his voice: fear, concern, relief, shock, hurt, “it’s Rachel, she—” he tried to find the right words, “she—she was stabbed, by Monique and Jacob—they, they are working for Banks, th-they killed Veronica, and Liela or, at least someone impersonating her—I helped—oh god. I killed them. This is all my fault. I can’t believe that all this killing, all this pain. All of those people I have hurt! And for what? Survival? Aren’t I more than that? Isn’t there more to a human life than living like an animal and dying? God, what have I done?!” Felix blinked dumbfounded as John stumbled and screamed and sobbed on his words, ranting like a nut-job.
“Wait, what?”
John continued sobbing looking disgusting with his filthy skin and snotty nose, “I helped Rachel here because she was bleeding to death, she was dying because of me.”
He sobbed while Felix took in this information. What did he just hear? Monique and Jacob AND JOHN, were working for Banks?! They killed an imposter? They killed Veronica...they stabbed Rachel.
Felix looked for any kind of weapon he could use against this murderer blubbering in front of him, but there was nothing. He stepped further back, but just to make sure he wasn’t crazy, he asked the crying John a question. “You have killed people for Banks?” his voice was solid as he asked the question, not showing any emotion other than coldness and a bit of shock.
John quieted down a bit, sobering up to reality, “I helped kill people in Bryan Kirklands group, for Banks. But I am through with that. I am tired of this. There has to be a solution. One that doesn’t have any sides. I don’t expect you to understand, nor trust me; and I definitely don’t expect you to forgive me. But please. Please just let me help Rachel. Let me do some good.” He turned his back to me to gaze down at the wounded Rachel through teary eyes.
Felix relaxed a bit, realizing that he was leaving himself wide open and his words seemed to carry truth. John reminded Felix of himself, hurt and hopeful. “Let me see her and her wound. I am not a doctor but maybe I could help. My sister likes to garden, so she has been planting anything she can get her hands on, anything that will grow. Maybe she has some sort of plant that could help?”
Felix stepped cautiously closer, but John didn’t move. He kept his eyes fixed and his body still, he wasn’t looking for any more fights. Felix gently pulled back the tangled moist sheets to reveal a large burn on the girl’s stomach. He sucked in a breath through his teeth. It looked terrible. “I cleaned the wound with some water, the little girl who led us here gave it to us. But it wouldn’t stop bleeding. It was so deep. She was going to die so I had to do something; I closed the wound by cauterizing it.” He looks at her with pain in his eyes, cracking his knuckles, regretting. Regretting so much.
Suddenly, Faith is at Felix’s side, tugging at his arm. “Faith!”
She signs to him with relaxed fingers, “I saw something.”
“Yes, I see what has happened. Are you okay? “Are you okay?” He says it out loud while gesturing his hands. How did all of this happen?” Felix signs imperfectly, frantic to get his message out. If only Faith wasn’t mute, then he wouldn’t have to sign everything to her so that she didn’t feel alone.
Faith shakes her head, annoyed with her overbearing idiotic brother. “I saw a girl take a book—” she paused her hands momentarily considering what she had seen “she looked like she was stealing it. She was sneaky.”
Felix didn’t sign.
The book. Faith had seen who had taken it. She could help find the book, it could be found, the book could tell us everything, it would put all our plans in motion.
“Faith, you give me so much faith!” Felix’s little sister grinned at his terrible humour.
“Why do you say that? Who was she?”
“I don’t know who she is! But I am hoping that you can give details that we can make out who it is, if we know them.” Felix was too excited to sign getting John’s attention.
He recognized Faith and nodded at her, then directed his attention to Felix. “What happened? Who is this person? Why are we trying to figure out who she is?”
“The history book that Bryan found was stolen. It contains morse codes of important information. Information that could help people. Information that could unify us all, and stop this war. My sister, Faith, saw someone with it.” Felix explained enthusiastically, passionate about what the future had in store.
Faith signed.
“Faith says that the girl was old, had grey curly hair filled with ashes, had lots of wrinkles, was dirty, and had a missing front tooth, and looked like you.” Felix laughs as Faith frantically signs. “Okay, okay. My sister didn’t mean anything by it, she is apologizing repetitively and swearing at me.”
John tilts his head to the side oblivious to the fact that Faith had just implied that John was an old dirt bag. “It has to be Monique.”
“That was fast! Let’s go find her. You said she is workin’ for Banks, right? So maybe she has gone to his base.” Felix is already walking out the door hauling his sister, ready to save the world.
“Wait.” John whisper-yells, gazing off as if remembering something, “you said that this book contains morse code?”
Felix stopped in his tracks and gave John his full attention, “Yeah?”
“Everyone at Banks’ compound are dumb killers, or narcasistic pricks, or slaves. The only person Monique knows and trusts, the only person who can read morse code—” he locks eyes with Felix, “is me. I know where she is going.”