Two
By the time I reached the thickest part of the woods - which was also about as far as I'd ever gone before - the rain was pelting down so hard that even the thick tree cover did little to offer any protection. It didn't help my mood any, either.
Maybe if it hadn't been raining, my furious pace would've eased away some of my irritation. Instead, the hair sticking to my head and the clothes sticking to my body made me that much madder.
I pressed on, ignoring the branches that thrashed my calves and muttering into the air. I very nearly didn't notice as the trees began to thin, giving way to first dense bushes, then to low lying shrubs. I finally slowed down as I recognized that my ascent up the side of the bowl was becoming difficult enough to make me breathe hard. I paused in my hike to take a look around. A naturally occurring butte gave me an excellent view.
I was startled by how much I could see. The sight of the whole Basin, spread out before me, made my heart thud in my chest.
The houses were tiny. The people were like insects. They scurried around frantically, securing the fields and the houses. They were doing what my father called “battening down the hatches”, an expression that had something to do with boats large enough to sound like legend.
It was funny to watch them, and not in a ha-ha way. The sight of them there, like that, should've made the Basin seem huge. Instead, it seemed small, too.
How big was it, really?
Seven compounds. Six with just less than a three hundred people, and the seventh one - the newest - at just over one hundred.
My father was sure there was enough room to double that, and still have plenty of resources, and plenty of space.
Looking at it from the top...I wasn't sure.
Had anyone besides me ever seen the Basin from this vantage point? Maybe the birds.
The birds.
I stood very still, listening for them over the sound of the rain. I couldn't hear them. It was odd. Everywhere in the Basin, and in the forest surrounding our homes, the birds were a nuisance. Everyone complained about the noise they made. Now they were silent.
I shivered.
The wind picked up suddenly, slamming into me and making me stumble. I righted myself quickly, and debated on whether or not to turn back. I'd come more than far enough to prove my point. Farther, maybe, than anyone had been since the Guard had been disbanded a century earlier.
But if I climbed just a little bit higher, pulled myself up the steep mountainside above me…In just a few hundred feet more...I'd hit the lip of the Basin. I'd be out.
The pull was too great.
I leaned into the side of mountain and I lifted up a foot. I lifted up the other, found a good hold, and dug in. I went to step again, and couldn't. I shook my leg, figuring it was in the thick roots of the shrubs below me which held me in place.
But my foot wouldn’t dislodge, and I was puzzled by the sensation of something curling around my ankle. I shook again, hoping to loosen whatever I'd become stuck to. Instead, the grip tightened.
"Don't move."
The deep voice was loud enough to cut over the rain and wind, and forceful enough to make me freeze.
"I'm going to let you go," he – whoever he was – said. "And when I do, I want you to take two steps down, and four steps back."
The vice-like hold loosened, then released.
