But now that I’m here staring at him, words fail me. Am I really going to leave him when these could be his last moments? Shouldn’t I cling to the few I have left? I glance at the door before taking his hand. His skin is cold and clammy against mine and though I have not held hands with anyone since my parents’ banishment, I know his skin feels wrong. As if whatever was inside him that made him Easton is gone.
The door opens with a quiet squeak, and I jump back from my brother as if I’ve been burned. It’s silly, considering I won’t be here to be reprimanded anyway, but it’s been ingrained beneath my skin and burrowed into my very being—touch is wrong.
The Healer from the other day comes in the room, his white-blond hair reflecting the machine lights. “Hello Ms. Ellis,” his voice is pleasant, but he eyes me as if I am a tiger that will strike him at any moment. “I trust you are well.”
I bite my lip to keep from hurling my true words at him. Easton isn’t here to keep me in check, so I need to restrain myself. At least for the rest of the night. “And you.”
“As you know, we were never sure of how much time Easton had and it seems that it is drawing to a close quicker than we were expecting.” He says this succinctly, no trace of the apologetic Healer that first gave us the news. As if then it was a terrible tragedy, but in the span of a few days has become routine. “Easton must remain in the Healing Center for the remainder of his days. The Covinus would ask that you gather his belongings and bring them with you when you report to the Education center in the morning.”
I stare at him, feeling suddenly like I am being dragged beneath the waves of a stormy sea. “Why?”
The Healer stares at me in alarm. No one ever askswhybecause the why is always the same—because the Covinus asks it of you and the Covinus knows best.
“I—"
The Healer stammers, at a loss for words. I stare hard at him. What does he think of a young boy’s life being so easily erased? That one day you are a valued member of the Community and the next there is nothing left to remind anyone you existed at all.
He shifts in his seat. “Because the Covinus has asked it of you, Ms. Ellis.” He meets my gaze. Surprising, that he is willing to show I’ve flustered him.
“The Covinus has also asked,” he pauses, looking down to his fidgeting fingers. My eyes follow his, to his square cut fingernails and nailbeds that have been picked to the point of scabs. “They have also asked that you limit your visiting hours to thirty minutes per day. It isn’t right to lock yourself away in here and ignore your responsibilities to your Community.”
“What?” My cheeks flush. “What do you mean it isn’t right? He’s my brother!”
“And we are your Community.”
It’s only the thought of being Outcast that forces my teeth to bite together roughly, trapping my words inside my mouth. I may be planning to run, but I cannot be Outcast—there would be no chance of return. If I choose to leave, I can choose to come back. At least, I’m hoping so. As far as I’m aware, no one has ever chosen to leave. Why would they? We are fed and cared for. No one has any more or less than anyone else. No sane person would willingly give that up to take their chances with the vile beasts and ancient evil that thrives in the Dark World.
I watch Easton, taking note of the way the color has been sapped from his lips, leaving them dry and pale. “I do this for you, brother. Please forgive me.”
With that, I leave the room, my last thoughts pounding in my head with a violent sort of rhythm. We are all valued members of the Community. Until we are not.
* * *
It’s night when I step out of our quarterage, but not dark, never dark. I’m armed only with my standard issued backpack, stuffed with a change of clothes and a rations bar. I own nothing else.
The Dark World coin hangs at my neck. It seemed too valuable to shove in alongside my khaki jumpsuit and it’s too easily lost in a pocket. In the end, I tore a small strip of fabric off my pillowcase and threaded it through as a makeshift necklace. I’m almost sorry I won’t be around to witness Farrah’s look of horror at the destroyed Community property.
The streets are empty, but I stick to the shadows cast by the quarterages anyway. Curfew rang in thirty minutes ago, but I don’t make the mistake of assuming this means I’m alone. There are always eyes. I know the feeling of them better than most. The sting of them on my skin, the rage at otherness possessed within them. Eyes have followed me my whole life and it would by folly to assume they aren’t with me now.
The air is crisp, but winter’s bite has faded substantially. I’m thankful it’s spring. If Easton had gotten sick in the winter, I would have to deal with freezing temperatures alongside everything else that is trying to kill me beyond the Boundary.
My feet feel heavy, like the pavement beneath them snaked its way around my ankles, attempting to hold me back from what can barely be described as half a plan. I don’t know where I’m going beyond the Boundary; I have no supplies, no survival skills, and no sense of direction. The odds aren’t even low—there are no odds. Nothing that would indicate I’m going to do anything other than die.
I push the thoughts from my head. Doubt won’t help Easton, and neither will staying safe behind the Boundary.
I turn into the neighboring quarterage. It mirrors our own, the squat gray buildings all standing in perfect unison. It would be faster to traverse through the metropolis, but it felt too vulnerable. A lone figure crossing the sea of red in the middle of the night would most certainly raise alarms. So, I take the long way around, through the quarterages and to the farmland on the other side.
Beyond that, lies the hole. The idea firmly implanted in my brain when Harlan spoke of its size.Large enough for a child to crawl through.I’ve always been small in stature and fitting through that hole is my best chance of slipping into the Dark World without being seen.
It isn’t just fear of being caught that plagues me. It’s the fear I’ll turn back. If I’m forced to explain, or to consider for a moment the danger I’m getting myself into, I will lose my nerve. I’ll turn around and go back to the bedroom that isn’t even mine with the family that isn’t mine either. I’ll gather up Easton’s things and resign myself to a future that doesn’t include him, in a place that doesn’t care.
One thought drives me forward.
For Easton. This is all for Easton.
I let it force my feet to keep moving, taking me through another quarterage.
Because the Dark World doesn’t bear thinking about. I know nothing of it, really, nothing concrete. Only what we have been told in the Education center which has always seemed too terrible and fanciful to be real. The videos played are old, the pictures warped, and the sound warbled in places, but the images have been clearly burned in my mind anyway. War, famine, rape, torture. Things that have been eliminated in Similis but run rampant there without the Covinus to keep the violence at bay.
