The Wastelands (Part II of the Runner Series)

Chapter 11

My feet scuff and scrape against the rough, hard-packed surface below me. A blindfold has been tied around my eyes and someone tugs on the length of rope attached to my wrists. I scowl as I stumble forward, annoyed at being lead around the desert like a pet.

The blindfold itches against the bridge of my nose. I raise my hands to scratch it and trip again when the person holding the rope tugs back forcefully.

I plant my feet and yank on the rope with all my might, grinning in satisfaction when I feel it slip from my captor's hands. The feet walking nearly soundless in formation around me draw to a soft silence and I can sense the various spears being gripped tightly.

"Take off my blindfold. I won't walk like this anymore." I tell them, thankful for the moment that I cannot see their hate-filled eyes crawling over me.

"It is not your place to dictate how we treat you, girl Miner." I recognize Rowan's voice to my left and swivel my head in her direction.

"You know that my name is not 'girl Miner'. It's Kay, and it is absolutely my place to demand that I be treated fairly by you. I have not made any threats and I am going with you willingly. Take off the blindfold. Now. Please." I say the last words with difficulty, feeling my shoulders tense.

No one says anything. Robbed of my sight my ears strain, desperate to pick up on anything occurring around me. Despite my frustration I am able to marvel at the Wasters' ability to remain completely invisible; their presence is encompassed fully by the desert surrounding us.

"For gods sake." I make a noise somewhere between a growl and a groan. "There's no point to me wearing this. I know we're still on the river. I know we're heading West. I know we've been walking for nearly two and a half hours which puts us eleven kilometers from where I left my friends. However, that information is completely useless to me since I haven't the foggiest idea how far from the City we were when we crashed, so can we please move past this pointless activity and get on to wherever it is you're taking me? Because honestly, at this point, I could not care less about where that happens to be."

Someone rips the rag from my head with more force than necessary and I curse, bringing my hands up to my face and scratching my nose furiously.

"Thank you." I sigh, lowering my hands and looking to Rowan. She stands a few feet back from me, her smooth face impassive. "That itch was driving me crazy."

She scowls and turns away, marching to the front of the group as the Wasters begin moving forward again.

The big Waster I dubbed Snake stoops to reach for the end of my rope and I jerk it out of his reach, meeting his black gaze as he glares at me.

"That's not necessary any more." I tell him firmly, raising my tied wrists and holding them out to him expectantly.

He raises one eyebrow and takes a step towards me, gripping my elbow. I feel my heart begin to thrum heavily in warning but force myself to remain expressionless, waiting as he reaches behind his back and withdraws my father's dagger.

With one clean swipe the rope is cut. I blink in confusion and look down, feeling my jaw clench in anger when I register that he has cut only the extra length of rope and left my hands tied together.

I bring my chin back up and shoot Snake an ugly look. He sneers as he makes a show of putting my dagger back in his belt before pushing me back into place with the rest of the group. My jaw is clenched as I trudge onwards, sensing that I've already pushed my luck enough for the moment. There will be another opportunity to get my dagger back from Snake.

We walk for several more hours. The landscape is eerily beautiful- the full moon painting the barren land and flattened expanse of river a pale blue. My eyelids grow heavy and my feet begin to drag, scraping loudly against the ground in sharp contrast to the Wasters' silent footsteps. Finally, when the river begins to curve South, Rowan leads us off of the hard-packed riverbed and back in between the dunes.