Page 88 of Juniper Unraveling

A reminder of the boy I once knew.

Zahra backs away from the truck, and I hop in, waving to the children and their parents as I head toward the gate.

As I roll to a stop in front of the wall, an older guard approaches, shaking his head.

Christ, here we go.

“You’re killing me, Wren. You feed them, they stick around. They’re just like stray fuckin’ animals.”

“Except they’re not, Denny. They’re human beings. People. Just like us.”

“Like us? Last I checked we don’t stand and throw rocks at passing vehicles. One of those bastards bit Skeeter last week. Good thing the little shit wasn’t infected.”

“They’re hungry. And scared. And to be honest, I’d bite Skeeter, if given the chance. He’s an asshole.”

Denny snorts a laugh and shakes his head. “What are you doing out here, anyway? Pretty thing like you would get swiped up in a heartbeat.”

“Target practice.”

“Can’t do that shit inside the wall, with some tin cans?”

“Tin cans don’t walk around, Denny. Or chase after me.”

“You’re a tough one, Wren.” He pats the door of the truck. “But you’re killing me. Because a’you, I gotta stand out here in this shit heat.”

“You’d be standing out here whether I fed them, or not.”

His shrug turns into a nod. “All these damn rebel attacks. Hittin’ too close to home. Lost a half dozen Legion last week.”

I don’t bother to tell him that Legion soldiers are the bad guys out in the Deadlands. And even if the rebels have grown increasingly hostile, they don’t hold a candle to the cruelty inflicted by our own.

Men like Denny believe the lies and propaganda fed to them on their silver spoons, though. I’m nothing but a voice on the wind, so for now, I keep up the farce, for Papa’s sake. For the sake of finding a cure that will perhaps bring an end to the division between the civil and the savages.

“Well, good thing we have you guarding the place.”

With a roll of his eyes, he shakes his head. “Get the fuck outta here.” He waves at the guard in the watchtower, and the wall moves, allowing me passage back inside Szolen.

* * *

Once inside the wall, my muscles instantly tense. Out there, I’m surviving. But I am in here, too. Every day is an act, a charade I put on for Papa.

Following their rules, swallowing their lies.

Cars pass me on the main strip, where manmade patches of green grass and flowers give the illusion that I’ve stepped into another world. To the right of me, children, no different than the ones outside the wall, play kick ball and dangle from monkey bars on a community playground. Tall buildings line either side of the road, arranged in a way that makes it look like a small downtown, complete with a marquis that hangs above a theater, where old movies are played during the day.

From what I understand, it won’t be long before we’ll have electricity at night, with streetlights and restaurants open later than dusk.

It’s not right.

While most would kill to live here, I find it all utterly depressing. An everlasting façade.

Maybe that makes me crazy. In fact, I’m sure any one of the people here would consider me bat-shit for wanting to venture outside of the wall.

Guess I just prefer to live life with my eyes open.

I park the truck alongside a curb and grab my satchel of goods. On the other side of a row of buildings, the lot opens to small tents lining either side of narrow paths that’re filled with people.

The market.