The Outskirts were terrible.
I don’t mean that about the people, if wasn’t their fault. I sat in the passenger side of the metal rover, dressed in the same ragged clothes from before with my nose pressed against the window. The houses were made of cheap stone and tiny compared to the Upper houses flamboyant mansions. I must’ve seen at least a couple hundred people living under pieces of sheet metal propped against the buildings. Children raced through the narrow alleys between jumbles of houses stacked on top of each other like bricks playing a strange game of touch someone and run from them.
I knew there wasn’t a high circulation of Vero’s in the Outskirts, but this was far worse than I could’ve ever imagined. The hotel we pulled up to looked so out of place amongst the gray stone i almost felt ashamed to be staying in it. It’s pristine white walls glowed in the rising moonlight. It was the only building i could see that had electricity.
As we passed a family huddled under a flimsy piece of metal beside the hotel my heart twisted when I met the gaze of the small child huddled in his mothers arms. I did my best to smile at him through my cowl, and was left in utter shock when the boy smiled back-a gap-toothed grin that stretched from ear to ear. Captain Marques grabbed my arm with a strong, gloved hand, dragging me towards the brass doors. I tossed my vero pouch into the sand, aiming for the family’s general direction. It was only a meek hundred vero’s but the joyous cries of the boys parents told me exactly how much it was needed.
The Foyer was desolate and empty, home only to a corner desk for reception and a few scattered wanted posters that had no doubt blown in from outside. The Captain moved to speak with the receptionist, a cone-faced lady in a white dress. The rest of my envoy watched me closely, as if they expected me to attempt an escape. I was relieved mother hadn’t chosen droids to escort me-real humans were far easier to tolerate.
A piece of paper crunched under my boot. The boy plastered under the big bold words: WANTED, smiled at me. The ID photo was N.S. issued, a young boy-no more than ten with yellow skin and dark hair. His brown eyes held a glimmer of hope I had never seen before-the hope of a better future. The date on the poster was from years ago but i found myself imagining this boy now. I could picture him as an Outlier, dark hair twisting in the wind as he pulled on a jacket. My own imagination was cut short by reality as Captain Marques grabbed my arm again.
The seven room suite was on the ground floor. Naturally, the only room with the window was mine…….and the window was facing the gray stone walls of a house. There was no peeking beyond the alleyway, no matter how I craned my neck. My mothers plan exactly. No way to escape- no way to discover.
Captain Marques threw me in and locked the door, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
An hour later and I was stretched out over the huge bed; light’s off; window opened as far as the restrictors would allow. i had discovered an up-side to the Outskirts: the air was clean. In the Upper Quarter you could smell the corruption. The pure wealth was suffocating. In the Outskirts everything was raw and untainted. This was the truth of the world, not the heavenly Utopia the Upper Ring would have it’s citizens believe.
Just as my mind kissed the edge of sleep, shadow blocked out the moonlight, rousing me. At first, I mistook the shadow for a droids, but then a pair of bloody fingers attempted to lift the window past the restrictors. Finding no luck, the thin figure fired a blaster at the restrictors and soundlessly climbed into the room. I curled myself against the wall, weightless on the cloud of blankets as I watched the stranger close the window and drag herself into my bathroom.
When she flicked on the light I caught my first clear glimpse of her.
The girl was short and unhealthily scrawny with wild, untamed burgundy hair. A pair of thick welding goggles hung around her neck, rattling as she knelt down to peek in the cabinets beneath the sink. Her leather jacket was painted with what looked like a pair of wings, one sleeve bandaged with a bloody bandanna. Underneath, her gray top was drenched in red. Droplets of blood fell onto the white marble floor as she moved around. Her dark gray jeans were ripped and stained white with dust, similar to the black high tops that made her appear taller than she was at first glance, adding at least three inches to her maybe five foot, five one stature.
My first instinct was to scream, but when I opened my mouth, nothing came out.
I wanted to believe the stories-that this girl was as dangerous a criminal as the Outliers were portrayed. But seeing her hunched over the sink, dabbing lightly at a huge gash in her gut with toilet paper, she seemed about as dangerous as a kitten.
Without warning, the lock clicked and my room was flooded with light. The Outlier ducked behind the bathroom door. From my place on the bed, I could see her reflection in the mirror breathing heavily; a blaster in hand, alert and ready to fire at the drop of a dime.
Captain Marques poked his head in the room just enough to meet my gaze before turning and locking the door behind him. My heart hammered in my chest as his footsteps receded in the distance. The bathroom was now the only source of light in the eerily silent room. The Outlier steps from her hiding place once the coast is clear, holding the blaster steadily aimed for my head, her other hand, which was wrapped in a make-shift splint, pressed against her wound.
Her green eyes were ferocious as she glared at me. Like a lioness. My mind drifted back to the servant girl from earlier in the night, even the Outliers burgundy hair was similar. It was like the servant girl was the one standing in front of me.
I swallowed my stomach back down and held my hands in the air, slowly crawling off the bed, towards her. “I’m not gonna hurt you,” I whispered. “If I wanted you caught, I would have said something to him.”
Her brow was creased with suspicion, rightfully so. I was sure she didn’t gut herself. “What makes you think I’m scared of you? Give me one good reason i shouldn’t blow your brains out right now, Fryer.”
It take’s me several moments to get over the initial shock. She spoke. Was this real? Did my mother orchestrate this? Was she nothing more than a actress meant to fool me?
But her voice was nothing like the women in the Upper Quarter. Not posh, or velvety. Hers was deeper than I expected, but still feminine. Like chalk on a chalkboard and the pleasant sound of a piano melody at the same time. It was almost refreshing to know not all women spoke like toddlers.
“I know basic medical and can help with your injuries,” I spoke softly. “I need to get out of the city. Fast.”
“Why? What’d you do to be held prisoner in a lavish hotel?” The sarcasm in her voice was brutal and sharp.
I couldn’t think of any crimes I could pass for. If i said something too extravagant, that would imply skill’s I might have to prove. And if I said something too mediocre, she’d never believe I wasn’t sent to one of the holding facilities. Honestly, I never thought I would meet an Outlier, so I didn’t exactly have a backstory set up. One thing I did know, I couldn’t tell her who I really was.
“I fled the Upper Quarter,” I gulped. “They caught me and are taking me back to my mother.”
“Is your mother in the Inner Circle?” Her head tilted with interest.
“Yes,” I told the honest truth with a sigh of relief. “She want’s me to take her seat when I turn Eighteen.”
“And you don’t want that?”
“Exactly! There’s no freedom here, nobody is living their own lives. I think you’re right for rebelling and I want to help you guys win if I can.” I stand to my full height, chest puffed.
She hesitantly lowered her blaster and mustered up an even fiercer glare. Her piercing eyes glowed threateningly. “Okay, you’re safe for now. But if I get even the slightest hint you’re lying to me: you’re dead. Got it?”
My throat became dry. I nodded. Seemingly satisfied with my answer, She set the blaster on the sink counter and sat on the toilet seat, grabbing more toilet paper to wipe away the blood. That’s when I noticed her eyes were sunken and rimmed with dark bags.
I rooted through the sink drawers for any first aid supplies. I found a few clean gauze wraps, some disinfectant ointment and a few different sized band aids in an emergency med box. Gently, I lifted her shirt a little higher above the gash. Her upper torso was wrapped tightly in layers of thick, dusty gauze in a make-shift bra. My neck burned with a blush, there I was, shamelessly holding a lady’s shirt up. All I could think in that moment was that she must have had huge breasts judging from the bump underneath the gauze.
Her eyes trailed to the glass shower door, a rosy pink dusting her cheeks. . “It keeps ‘em out of the way.”
“No judgment here,” I laughed.
“Do what you need to do,” she grumbled. “Before I shoot you.”
I focused on what my hands were doing. The initial wound was pretty bad, the blaster seared a hole straight through the skin. It must have been a droids blaster because the wound wasn’t immediately cauterized, that meant it was a low-level laser, like a scouts. The fist sized bruise on her ribs above it scared me too. I was no expert on human physiology, but I had read a book or two on basic medical practices. There was no needles or thread for me to suture the wound, so I applied firm pressure. The girl growled at me; her nails digging into my arm as I guided her to lay down on the floor.
I wanted to scream from how deep her nails were digging but kept the pressure firm and swapped out the bloody toilet paper. The bleeding was starting to let up a little. I pour a small amount of the disinfectant into the bottle cap and drip that onto the wound. She hisses as it bubbles up, burning away the germs. I helped her to sit up and started wrapping the clean bandages firmly beneath the injury and worked my way up until it was securely wrapped. After I finished with the most concerning wound, I pressed on her ribs a bit, they didn’t feel broken, just bruised.
“How did all this happen?” I asked softly, handing her a bottled water from the mini-fridge.
She drank the whole thing in a single gulp and tossed the bottle aside with shaky hands, I noticed the make-shift split on her arm. It looked like someone with years of experience had already set it. Perhaps it was an older injury? “Scuffle with some zombies. Wrecked a little ways outside the wall tryin’ to save a couple of rug-rats from scouts.”
“Zombies?”
“The droids,” She groaned. “That’s what we call the droids.”
A smile tugged at my lips. Zombie: My first Outlier slang word. “What should I call you?”
“They call me Falcon,” She pulled herself onto the toilet, clutching at her bandages. “You ain’t gonna get my real name squirt.”
“Well, my names Jonathan, but I prefer Johnnie,” I tried for a smile. “I think we’re about the same age.”
“I’m older than I look, kiddo,” She smiled. “I’m twenty.”
“Two years isn’t enough for you to call me a kid,” I fired back.
“Did I ask?”
“No.”
Her lips curled into a wicked grin. “Then shut up.”
My stomach swirled with questions as I watched her try to pull herself off the floor. Were all Outliers as rude as her? Did they all have awesome code-names? Would I get a code-name?
I offered my hand to get her back on her feet. Her hand felt like ice against my clammy palm as i pulled her up as gently as possible. She braced herself against me, wobbled towards the window, and threw up the sash. I didn’t follow as she climbed out into the sandy alley. My bones turned to lead and i couldn’t move. The room started to feel smaller and overwhelming, for the first time in my life there was a chance to escape my cage, and I didn’t want to.
Falcon poked her head back in. “You coming or what? I’ve gotta get to the warehouse for batteries.”
“Batteries we have some in a drawer over there-”
“-Not that kind of batteries,” She held up her blaster so I could see the side handle, the little gauge showed the battery was in the red, presumably low. “I need another blaster and more batteries or well never get out of the Outskirts.”
I swallowed and braced my foot on the dresser, just as she had and pulled myself to my freedom.
The wind ruffled through my blonde hair as Falcon jumped onto the drainage pipe of the building across the alley. She stopped to showed me all the right angles to put my feet so I wouldn’t slip as we climbed. As she disappeared over the ledge I continue struggling. It was very different from climbing the willow tree in mother’s courtyard, there was no secure place to brace my foot, no bark for my fingers to grip. I kept repeating her instructions in my head.
Left arm, pull. Right arm, pull. Brace my feet. Repeat.
As I neared the top of the pipe, I made a grave mistake.
I looked down.
Everything was suddenly thrown off kilter. The ground spun beneath me. I couldn’t make out anything, not the pipe or the ledge a foot above me. I lost all control over my body and my hands released the pipe, unable to grip the metal as it dissolved between my fingers. It occurred to me that it was my second time falling that day, and this time i was probably going to die.
From the spinning blur A pale hand latched onto my arm like an angel lifting me to the heavens. Being pulled over the ledge, I nearly kissed the stone beneath me. My breaths were shallow as the world rightened itself, turning back into rows of buildings and sand. I rubbed my chest, feeling my heart thumping wildly.
Falcon had just saved me.
Before she could walk away, I rushed to grab her wrist. Choking over my words, I struggled to speak while still disoriented from nearly falling to my death. “Why’d you save me?”
She yanked her wrist from my grasp and drew it back. I flinched, waiting for her to attack me-to throw me back over the ledge.
“My parents were in the Inner Circle too,” She whispered instead. I opened my eyes, shocked that she had lowered her fist. Instead of seeing the fearless, aggressive Outlier from before, I saw the shadow of a scared girl with no idea what to do. “When they disagreed with the Matriarch, she had them killed. I was supposed to take my father’s place. Like you, I didn’t want that, so I took my sister and left. That’s why I’m going to help you.”
I couldn’t speak. What words would comfort her? How could i apologize on behalf of my family who had murdered her own. She turned away, the Violet wings glaring at me in her stead, as if they knew my secret. “And you helped me; I always repay my debts.”
“Where’s your sister now?” No sooner had the words left my lips did i wish to take them back.
Falcon’s glare was so ferocious it might have stopped my heart had it the power to do so. In seconds her personality had done a complete one eighty. “That is none of your business, we’re even. Don’t expect me to save your ass again.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” She threw over her shoulder. “Outside the wall isn’t the land of the free; it’s the land of open war. People die out there fighting the Zombie’s every day. You should know what you’re signing up for, Johnnie. The world isn’t sunshine and rainbows, there’s a lot of storms.”
She thought i was dumb, like the rest of the Upper Quarter. i knew of everything that was happening out there, i was no stranger to my mother’s methods. I put on a brave face, clenching my shaking hand into a fist-a symbol of my own strength, that i would survive this. I would become an Outlier.
“I’m not scared of a little thunder.”
ns 15.158.61.48da2
