Within the Walls

Chapter 23

"What the hell, Ruben?" I hiss, voice low and deadly. I clench my hands, nails digging into my flesh as my body trembles.

"I had to, Elle," Ruben bites back, head snapping up to me, gaze icy. "I had no choice."

"I'm sure there was something else we could have done!" I snap, stepping towards him. "You killed him when we had agreed we would not! This entire plan is about justice and killing a Tranq makes you no better than them, Ruben."

"I am nothing like him," he snarls in disgust, inclining his hand to the dead Tranq at his feet. "I'm not them."

"You should have thought of that before you shot him, Ruben!" I am shouting now as the rage sears through my nerves. "He may be the most repulsive man because he's a Tranq. You were still wrong to kill him. Killing goes against everything we stand for."

"I did not want to kill him, Elle. I had no other choice." Ruben clenches his jaw, tucks the pistol into the belt of his Tranq uniform and marches out of the headquarters.

I glance at the dead Tranq, and sigh, releasing the last of my anger. I follow Ruben back into the tunnels.

"We must case back to your apartment, hide it, and then go to the square," Ruben whispers in a distant tone.

I bite my lip and sigh. "I'm sorry for yelling."

He looks at me from the corners of his eyes. "I don't think I had a choice, Elle," he says, voice now gentle. "I didn't mean to scare you, or make you think I'm a monster."

"You're not a monster, Ruben." I push the loose curl from my face. "I just didn't want to kill him. He might have children."

His jaw tightens. "Yeah, I know. He probably does."

My eyes catch the dim line of light outlining the trapdoor in the ceiling. I step below it, rise on my tiptoes, and open it ajar. Ruben peers over the ledge, checking for people. Grunting, he pushes it harder and the trapdoor swings open, landing with a light thud against the forest floor.

Ruben offers his hand.

I grab it, smiling as he grabs my waist as he lift me. Gripping the edge, fingers digging into the grass, I pull myself onto the grass. I shuffle forward and scramble to my feet. Ruben passes up the case and then I reach and help haul him to the surface.

I hug my body tight, hiding the case beneath my coat, as we move through the Convex streets. We trek through the cobbled streets, passing fellow thin Convex, who throw angry stares. Sneya's nickname makes me a target for nosy eyes.

We arrive at the door of my apartment building. Hurrying up the step, we reach the flight and just as I unlock the door, another pair of footsteps echo off the walls above me. A shadow bounces off the walls, and the withering figure of a frail old lady appears. Her apartment is above mine.

"Good afternoon, Madame de Lacy," I force a polite smile.

She peers at me over her hooked nose with sharp black eyes, casting Ruben a glance. "Miss Fallon, where is your sister? I have not seen her for days."

Madame de Lacy never liked me. I thought it was because of my sword fighting. I remember her explaining the art of elegance to my father, making it clear her thoughts of me. Madame de Lacy was always indiscrete with her glares. She liked Isabelle. Intelligent, polite, book-loving Isabelle. She smiled at her as if she were her own granddaughter as if she were the ideal girl even though she was born in the Convex.

"Isabelle is dead," I say. "They killed her. I'm sorry."

Tears pool at her crinkled eyes as she hobbles past me and down the stairs. She glances back, thin greying lips pinched together. "The world has lost a beautiful soul." Madame de Lacy disappears in silence as her soft footsteps fade.

Biting my lip hard, I push the door open. We enter the apartment and I slump against the door. Ruben takes the case from my hands and traipses over to the couch. He lifts the dusty mattress from its frame. He yanks the zip back and slips the case of vaccinations beneath the pillow, sitting it back in its frame. I realise that I still haven't moved, and so I set an old pot over the stove, drawing a match across its box and igniting the burner.

Waiting for the boil, I stand in front of the old mirror that hangs on a tilt by the front door. My stormy grey eyes pierce back at me. My curls fall around my face, in dire need of a wash. I wince as I yank the knots out with my brush. I wind the red locks into a braid as the water bubbles with anger in the pot. I hurry over and remove the pot from its burner. As I offer Ruben a mug of herbal tea, we sit on the same cushion of the couch in silence. The sun sinks into the window, beating its fading orange light into the room.

"We need to go," I say, draining the too-hot tea.

"I'll go first." Ruben gulps his tea and stands. "We shouldn't show up together."

"I'll be a few minutes after you."

He nods. "I'll see you soon, Elle."

I wait a good five minutes before leaving. I hurry through the cobbled streets and alleyways, taking all the shortcuts. I notice the deserted streets; no one wants to risk being late to the announcements.

The square comes into view, swelling with the Convex again. A shiver ricochets down my spine as I notice more Tranquillity patrolmen than ever lining the square. My gaze sweeps between them, hoping to catch Ruben's green eyes among them. I do not find him.

"Ah, Miss Fallon. It's nice of you to show up," his voice booms. My head snaps up. Lord Sneya grins at me from the stand, scrutinizing eyes alight.

Hundreds of heads turn to me. I want to shrink into my boots. I catch the gaze of an old lady whose eyes glint with anger and hunger.

"Good evening, citizens of the Floodgates, people of the Convex, I order you to pay attention," Lord Sneya barks and the heads snap back.

"One hundred and nine years ago, rising seas destroyed the former world. Waters swallowed coastlines. It destroyed this small piece of land in the northern hemisphere. It boasted a powerful empire. It killed thousands of people. The plague killed billions. It only infected adults. It has long since mutated and infects everyone. Our mighty walls protect us from the outside world has stopped our population from infection. Although, as you all know, the virus lays dormant in the river that divides our land.

"We have been victorious over the virus for over a hundred years. Elle Fallon touched the River, releasing a chain reaction. The virus has claimed lives. It is spreading, now. We must take a stand and stop this virus again. We are tightening restrictions. All Convex citizens must be in their homes by 21.00 hours every night, no excuses. Children will only attend schools one day a week. You must wear a mask in public. If you come across an infected person or body, contact a Tranquillity patrolman. Failure will cause execution or banishment."

"The virus may be powerful, but together we can beat it. We will not let humanity perish!"

We clap and they dismiss us. The Convex scatter in their usual controlled chaos; motherless children scuttling to their orphanages, elderly men, and women, clutching each other, hobble back to their homes in a frazzled silence. I do not move. I stay with my feet planted to the spot; eyes locked with Sneya's. A tiger against snake; a dangerous duel.

"I have dismissed you, Miss Fallon," Lord Sneya says at last, voice echoing across the deserted square. "I suggest you leave."

"I suggest, Lord Sneya, that you put your mask on. Return to your palace at once." I resist a smirk. "We wouldn't want you catching a cold, now, would we?"