Within the Walls

Chapter 24

I guess it is the last of the dandelions this year. Their tell-tale yellow buds are absent from the forest floors, replaced with a layer of frost. The frigid air stings my flushed cheeks as I weave through the trees. The birds chirp and swoop between the branches as grey morning light leaks through the thick leaves. The grass crunches under my boot and I exhale vapour and vapour. I break into a light jog, hoping to circulate blood around my body and warm my core. The familiar weight of my sword sheathed on my back keeps my spirits alive.

I arrive at the tree that I was sitting in with Aston several months ago. My heart lurches to my throat as I realise, he was home recently. I approach the thick trunk of the tree and I smile at the letters engraved into the bark. Aston and I scratched the names of our parents with his dagger the first time we came into the southern forest when we were twelve. One year they banished my mother and father. It is a crime worthy of a loss of quota for months. Yet our parent's names remain.

His parents' names are there, Michael and Anna. The names Carl and Elizabeth are there in sharp letters. My father and my mother. Six years. It has been six years since Sneya banished them from the Floodgates like dirt. Beyond the walls promises death.

Will the Floodgates change six years after Isabelle's death? My jaw tightens at the thought of my sister. As I close my eyes, I brace myself for the wave of grief. I miss her kindness and her uncanny patience. I miss the way she did not tolerate my brashness. She would have a lot to say about my friendship with Ruben. I see her in my dreams. I see her clutching our mother's copy of Wuthering Heights with her hair braided down her back, tied off with a pink ribbon.

I reach behind my back for my sword and withdraw it from its scabbard. I press the tip of the blade into the bark and carve her name into the tree, beside my mother's name. When I finish, I slide the sword back into the scabbard and step back.

Michael and Anna. Carl and Elizabeth. Isabelle.

The sun reaches through the gaps in the canopy, rearranging shadows and warming my skin. I trek through the woods and startle at the rustle of a nearby bush. A tawny blur rushes past, hooves darting away. The deer disappears all at once. Soon, the grass becomes cobbled streets, and the trees become people, and the chirping becomes the bustling sounds of the Convex. I weave my way through the streets and alleyways, watching everyone I pass. Lots of them wear fabric across their face. No one wants to risk spreading the virus.

Fear is a thick blanket in the streets. People jump and swear at one another. Eyes and heads lie low. The women grip their children's hands, hugging them close. I earn glares and wide eyes of terror from everyone I pass. At long last, I disappear from the public eye as I slip into my apartment building. I increase my pace, jogging two at a time up the steps until I reach my flight. My heart bursts from my chest with fright, feet stopping as I spot a Tranq standing next to the front door of the apartment. I realize who, but my heart continues to beat to an erratic rhythm.

"Elle." Ruben's green eyes pierce back at me in the dim light. His lips purse and his eyes glint with desperation. "Where have you been?"

"In the forest," I say, brows furrowing, stepping closer. "How long have you been there?"

"I worried someone took you. I just got here. Can we go inside?"

I unlock, and the door and we slip into the apartment. He pulls the helmet from his head, placing it on the floor as we sit on the couch together.

"I began the plan. But listen to me. We are going to a bar, Sam's Inn near the square tonight. We can offer the vaccine to the people there."

"But they will not listen to me. They only see me as a threat."

"No, they will listen to you. You are the Red Leaf. You have a power that you do not yet understand. You could revolt this entire empire if you wanted."

"I mean, I want Sneya dead and to change this city."

"Me too."

----

That evening, after the announcements, the citizens retire to their homes. Although Sam's Inn is often busy in the evenings. It is one of the friendliest spots in the Convex sector as Tranqs leave it alone. It is known for its live music and its gambling. The bustling sound of drunkards and laughter emanates across the square as Ruben, and I dip into the alleyway. Ruben dresses in black jeans and a white t-shirt. I wear a loose fit pair of black pants and a beige top with flowing, long sleeves and three buttons. Ruben clutches the handle of the vaccine's case as if it will grow legs and run right back to the palace. As we push the doors open and step in, warmth from the crackling fire breathes over us and I shiver. The chaos of chatter diminishes, and dozens of heads turn to us.

Another wave of sound erupts from the crowd as someone exclaims my nickname. "The Red Leaf!"

"We are risking our neck even in the same room as her!"

"Everyone be quiet!" Ruben shouts above the uproar and for whatever reason, they listen to him. "Everyone, please, Elle has something to tell you."

"Is she here to brag about her immunity?" someone sneers from the back.

Ruben rolls his eyes. "Just listen to her, will you?" Grasping my wrist, he tugs me further into the crowded room. Despite the envious glares, people make way. Ruben pulls an empty wooden chair out from under a table and steadies it. "She'll just have to stand on this chair otherwise you won't see her."

"I'm not that small, Ruben," I snap, climbing onto the chair anyway, knowing that he is right.

Ruben bites his lower lip, fighting a smirk. He glances up at me. "You can do this, Elle."

At that, I realise how vulnerable I am standing on this wobbly chair in front of at least 50 Convex people, staring expectantly at me. As my gaze sweeps the crowd, my eyes land on a small face. A little girl stands, appearing to be with no guardian. Her chestnut ringlets frame her slender, porcelain face and her dark eyes pool with tears. A tear runs down her cheek and drips from her trembling lips.

I step off the stool, the crowd parting again as I tread over to the young child.

"Hello," I whisper. "What is your name?"

"Lia," she squeaks. Pink bursts into her cheeks.

"Where are your parents?" I ask, kneeling in front of her.

Another tear slips out as she draws in a deep breath. "My dad was sick, Elle." Her voice shakes and my heart drops. "They took him away."

Anguish burns through me as memories of the night I came back to an empty apartment permeate my cortex.

"I'm so sorry, Lia," I say. "I'm sure he misses you."

More tears well in her eyes before she tosses her slight frame into me, wrapping her thin arms around me.

"I've been looking after her," Sam, the bartender says. Well known by the locals, Sam has run the Inn since his father passed it onto him, before his death. Local Convex come to Sam's Inn to drown their starvation in ale and whiskey. "Her father was my friend. Now, Elle, I believe it is time you told us why you are here before the Tranqs arrest us for our execution."