Chapter Seven — I Follow Rivers

“You are doing the right thing,” my brother says from behind me, handing me a gray, long sleeve shirt and black rain jacket from his backpack. As he pulls the garments out, drops of water fall to the ground. Seems they were tracking us all night through the massive storm.

“Sure I am,” I agree, unconvincingly.

I still can’t believe my brother would betray me like this, and for what? False promises of a treaty between Cupola and The Gate?

“The safety of our people is worth a life that does not belong to us.” He’s already arguing the point. “There was no way you two were going to make it, brother, not with her condition. I was helping her.”

“More like helping yourself. You traded her for paper money and a fake treaty agreement.” I’m hardly listening to his stupid reasoning anymore.

“She is set to be married to the president of The Gate. They would turn us all against each other in order to find her, and I am not willing to let Cupola fall over ST politics. Besides, if it had not been for her importance you would both be dead for your foolishness.”

“Ha! Politics! It’s just another word for getting sly, power-hungry men off the hook for their disgusting deeds. It’s been like that since the beginning of time. Politics, a.k.a. scapegoat. I am aware of her condition, but mostly I am attentive to your betrayal.” I snatch the shirt from him.

“What would you have me do, Aecker? They tracked her, like I told you they would. They came only a few feet away from our barracks. It wouldn’t have taken them long to find Cupola City after that. You would risk all those innocents, your friends, over a girl? What has she done? What does she have that has twisted your mind so? I’ve never seen you like this over a girl before. You know there are more of them, right?”

I stare at Dyllian hard and long before slipping my head into the shirt, hoping he will find the threats living in my hard gaze. “I don’t believe for one second she is to be the first wife. She would have told me.”

“She lost her memory, remember? How could she have told you?”

“I knew her before that.”

“You what?”

“I don’t want to talk about it, it will only make me angrier.” I snatch the jacket from Dyllian’s grip, put it on and zip it up all the way. “I can’t believe you would trade with ST in the first place. How can you choose them over me? And let me just set you straight here. Those people in Cupola, as much as they are innocents, they are your friends not mine. Yours!”

“Don’t be such a stubborn mule, Aecker. Father left his legacy to us. Their survival is on our shoulders now!”

I snicker at the thought. My father’s dream for a safe haven died with him. My brother does not seem to notice the deceit going on right before him. He chooses not to acknowledge it, disbelieving and stupid, he won’t admit he is being played. I’ve told him many times over that our father’s death was no accident. But he was there, of course, when it happened, and still won’t believe that someone close to my father would have conspired to commit such a heinous crime. He thinks Cyrus a saint still.

But it’s only a matter of time before our followers turn on us.

***

My feet are desperately climbing the steep incline of the nearby hills. Traveling on foot, we are about three days away from The Gate. It’s a huge city, protected by tall walls and sharp edges to keep the filth out, not to mention protecting the Encoded ones from things like us.

Ironically, most humans are now Encoded not to become ill. So… conversing with Inborns—those not Encoded, of course—will make them ill? Can they all really be that dumb? Can’t they see it’s just a rumor made up as a means of keeping tabs on the population, in other words—as a way to control them?

My brother thinks the attacks on Cupola’s barracks were waged to retrieve Opel. Personally, I think it’s a start of a war. It reeks of a set-up. My brother is a fool to even consider that they won’t go back on their word.

“Aecker. Stop! We have to go back to Cupola and double up on our defenses.”

“You doubt me, Dyllian, every time you question my methods, ideals, dreams… why? What is so wrong about the way I go about things? Why do you not trust me? I just don’t get it!”

“And you do the same to me! You think me a failure, don’t you?”

“Oh, for the love of God, Dyllian.” I sigh, turning to face him. “Brother, I do not doubt your intentions. However, the trustworthiness of your supposed ‘coalition’ I certainly do doubt. There is no hope for ST. None. We cannot work together, ever.”

The look on Dyllian’s face reads as though he has just discovered a really bad truth.

“What did you trade besides the girl, Dyllian?” I know my brother well.

“There was an agreement of peace talks, a meeting with our leaders and theirs. I feel stupid now for thinking it was even possible, but I was desperate to keep our people safe, to find you before they did. I am so tired of fighting. We have lost so many good people. I couldn’t let them get anywhere near the gates of Cupola. And if they had found you with her first, they would have killed you, Aecker.” He sighs heavily. “I have a million answers as to why I did what I did in the little time I had.”

“I think it’s more than that, Dyllian.” I narrow my eyes. I know when he is lying.

“Like I said, your intentions were honorable toward this girl, a romantic notion perhaps because your heart is too pure to think otherwise. You believe in love when no one else does. It’s time to give up on it, now, just as the rest of the world has.”

Shaking his head, he continues, “This horrific emotion got our parents killed, remember? He died to save Mom and her ideals. Love is a fantasy, Aecker. It is a flaw that has been proven fatal throughout history.”

I brush him off. I know love is real, it’s what I feel inside, so strong I can’t control it. “You notice anything else about that strange encounter with the girl, in regards to her supposed fiancé?”

He shakes his head.

“He didn’t once mention her name. None of them did.”

My brother stares right through me. His face grows a lighter shade of gray, as I see the realization come over him. He now knows what he was about to do. Head into peace talks with all our high ranking officers and walk our own people into a ruse. To uproot the unbending tree of Cupola that has stood against their evil, political storm. As we make our slow climb over the treacherous terrain of Mount Helicon, I try one last time to convince my brother to go back to Cupola alone and push forward the perimeter barricades, double up on them, even.

***

The dips and sharp inclines of the hills ring true to its newly given name. The wind sings in low hums over the jagged edges of steep rock. I am committed to the thought that we are about to go into war. Somehow this is the spark, the lighting of the fuse; ST will use this against us to fuel the fight to carry The Clearing on to its human phase―to weed out the last of the Inborns.

Screaming over the gusts, “Brother, please, you need to go back!” I try one last time.

The Barren Lands that make up the foothills of Mount Helicon were created by bunker bombs that tore, dug up and destroyed all life over and under the entire area. Nothing grows here anymore after the radiation stripped everything from the surface. It is dangerous to climb the mountain, exposure might cause radiation poisoning. And I don’t want that hanging over my head. I can risk my own life, but not my brother’s. It was Dyllian who wanted to cart along with me. Persuade me to go back with him, which is not going to happen.

“I don’t want to talk about Opel anymore, Dyllian. What happened, happened. Am I remorseful? Over some things, yes, but meeting her, no. I have stumbled across something big here, something that will bring ST down for good. I can feel it. All I can tell you, brother, is that I knew her before the assault, and she never once came across as a Tracker. I would have been dead… you know that. So be it if she was a lure, perhaps it’s just the kind of peril we needed. I will find Opel, and stop ST before their next move.”

“You hid her from me because you knew it was wrong.”

“That’s not it.”

“Then what, Aecker? What makes her so special that you would risk everything our family has been working toward? To restore our country after the biggest war the planet has ever seen?”

“I don’t owe you any explanations, Dyllian. Get off my back! You’re starting to annoy me, big time.”

The guilt is riding me hard. My mind is running through all the possibilities―conjuring up every moment to see what I could have done differently. Distorted figures captured in different scenarios. I probably should have found a safer place for Opel to hide when I found her being attacked. But she was injured, unconscious, and my further tardiness on the day would not have gone unnoticed. Besides, I think it’s time the world understood that the destruction of our planet was not caused by flaws; like love, sympathy, compassion, religion, or faith. But by greed and power.

In my mind, I keep seeing her face behind the bushes near the water’s edge as we cross the forest. I feel her body against mine as we wrapped ourselves around a tree, riding out the storm. I hear her nervous giggles as we ran away from our encounter with Mother Bear. I’ve felt this sort of pain before. It’s the unmistakable rotting ache of my heart announcing to me just how much I miss her. I feel lost without her. I know Opel doesn’t remember me from before. Perhaps I should have told her more about us. But I was afraid to lose her, and now I cannot let fear be a choice.

Her words echo inside me: Please don’t let them take me. The remnants of our short time together will haunt me all the days of my life, but I will be damned if I am going to let them take her away from me without a fight. I refuse to let them hurt her by giving her a life she does not deserve.

The forest’s landscape changes dramatically when a sudden, small avalanche of sharp rocks fall into the heavy, dense valley below. Clouds are slowly starting to dissipate as summer peeks its leering face over the horizon, issuing bright bands of orange and pink. It’s early morning, and I might still be able to cut them off before they reach The Gate by this time tomorrow.

My brother walks past me courageously and steps right up to the edge, the wind whipping at his hair and clothes.

“Still scared of heights?” He looks back, shooting me a grin.

I shake my head. “Please, I’ve been through worse.” My false tone doesn’t convince him.

“Yeah, I saw the bruises on your back. Must have been one hell of a night.”

Rolling my eyes, I sigh. “Really, Dyllian, not everything is about sex, all right? That was really a lame attempt at apologizing, you know.”

“Well, clearly I know now you are a virgin, because no man who has had the life-changing…”

“Stop right there.” I cut him off with a vicious smirk. “I forget that you have hundreds of ladies lined up at your door at all times. You forget I live with you. One time does not make you an expert.”

“It’s that good, I tell you.” He grins.

My mind has left the conversation already. I answer quickly so Dyllian will just shut up while I summon the courage to teeter on the edge of the cliff. “If you say so.” My feet are leaden to the muddy ground below, leaves and twigs decorate the edge of my soles. I stare at my fuzzy reflection on the surface of my boots.

You can do this.

As my feet find themselves on the dark, gray rock, I take a huge gulp of air. A chilly, fresh gust of wind yanks my hair back.

I cannot choose fear.

I think of Opel, of finding her and leaving the Forsaken Lands forever. My nerves seem to calm down. I find the courage to actually inspect the abyss below. There are many trees protruding from the rock walls we could use as anchors on our descent.

Dyllian hands me an old pair of father’s binoculars. They are huge, heavy and ancient-looking. Made of dark metal with tan leather bound around the body, and they smell as old as they look. There are no adjustable parts, no magnifying or zooming, or any extras that could enhance their performance.

My snicker grows loud. “Should I even ask?”

“Those mean something to me.” He frowns.

“You are showing your flaws, Dyllian,” I mock. “Father always taught us the rational choice. This,” I say, lifting the binoculars, “is not the rational choice. It weighs a ton, Dyllian!”

“Just give it here!” He snatches at it, but I pull back and start scanning the horizon.

“I see it,” I say. I can hear his hard breathing behind me. In my mind, I see his nostrils flare in annoyance.

The Gate is visible from the mountains as the clouds drag slowly past. The eye of a gleaming, silver pinnacle pinpoints their nerve center, towering over treetops and the huge walls surrounding the city. Its strong frame offers a stark contrast against the barren, forgotten and useless skyscrapers.

Handing him the binoculars, I slowly retreat back to solid ground, very aware of just how close the edge of death really is. I start rummaging through Dyllian’s bag. “Please tell me you have something I can use to hunt. I am starving.”

“We want to cut them off before they reach the outskirts of Jester. After the clock tower, the buildings have been obliterated. There is nothing but cinders, ash, and minimal debris that fills in the landscape―and the air is unbreathable. We have to reach them before that. From The Gate’s towers they’re able to see as far as a mile in all directions,” Dyllian adds.

I guess he is trying to make up for his betrayal in any way he can. Sure, we falter as all brothers do but we forgive and forget our mistakes, but until I find Opel I feel very alone in my mission.

Dyllian keeps his eyes locked on the landscape beyond the mountain’s edge.

I swallow nervously. I’ve never been back to The Gate since our escape, but we have all heard the stories of hideous deaths that have left scars upon the land. The Clearing has left the terrain uninhabitable, and I am quite aware that spending too much time exposed to the toxins in the area causes deformities and illnesses that one can ever come back from.

I ignore him. “So, no food, then.” Zipping up the bag hastily, I swing it onto my back. “Let’s go,” I mumble disappointedly, slipping my breathing mask back on.

Dyllian gives me the serious look, the one where he stares at me through dark lashes, and deep-set frown lines spread across his forehead. “You sure you want to do this?”

I nod. “You don’t look sure. I told you to go back, protect the…” I begin.

“You need to know that there are heavy consequences for our actions, little brother.”

“I know.”

“Death will come… for many.”

I nod.

“You don’t care then, is that it?”

“There is nothing left for me in Cupola, Dyllian, you are what matters to me. Our father’s legacy will not endure these times. We cannot possibly rule with compassion and ethics against savages. We need to make a stand. I’ve done everything I can for the colony, and now the time has come to do something with my own life. And she is that life. I don’t know why, but what I’m feeling is absolution.”

Dyllian steps down from the rocks, a defeated look rests behind his dark, disappointed eyes. I know the all too familiar stench of hopelessness; it comes off him in waves. Now, the fact that my brother has given up on me only adds to the stack of guilt I feel.

“And saving this sickly girl is where your heart lies? Even if it means she will die anyway? Then I cannot stop you,” he simpers, half-heartedly. “I’m sorry I forced you, little brother. I don’t want your life to end now, not like this, not over some fairy-tale notion of love.”

I hug Dyllian. “Enough of this sap, let’s get to it, then.”

***

As the morning passes, the wind takes its journey with us. Dyllian takes the rucksack from me, inserts the binoculars, and takes out two new filters for our breathing masks.

“You would not last a day out here without me, little brother.” He hands me a filter.

Dyllian ties each end of a rope around us. If one falls, the other goes along. It’s a lethal plummet. Trees block the extent of the cliff face, but huge roots and boulders make the climb a little easier. The fact that I can’t see all the way down is comforting. It’s the mere thought of the height, and the memories of the scene from above that fuels my quick descent. My feet slip and slide, hands finding branches and wrapping around tree trunks. I want to get to solid ground as soon as yesterday. In some places, the moss is so thick I can’t find a holding spot and find myself leaping like a cat to grab onto a nearby branch.

Once I get the momentum going, I keep at it until Dyllian yells at me to slow down and look. Suddenly, the landscape has drastically shifted, trees are gone and there is nothing but clouds and mist to meet my eyes. My sudden movement as I pull back causes large stones to loosen. They tumble down, straight at me. I can already feel myself plunge to my death. In a panic I slip, and feel myself go over the edge. Dyllian grabs my hand. I can’t help but look down. Upon seeing broken trees, uprooted and snapped in half, it looks as if something took a huge chunk out of the side of the cliff. Below me there is nothing but the jaws of death. Beside me, logs dangle over a steep rock wall.

Dyllian lifts me slowly, and I grab onto his shirt. His end of the rope is secured to a tree, as he pulls me back from the deadly edge. My body is numb, the bones and muscles most likely thinking that they have already fallen to their doom. I find myself slumped against the tree, a cyclone of colors envelop me in a spin of brown, green, gray, and then blue sky. Now that I know which way is up, I can find my center.

“Are you okay?”

“Do I look okay?”

“Well, you are here.” Dyllian tries to lift my mood.

With my head still resting against the bark of a rotten tree stump, I think of Opel and my fear pulls back, replaced by a deep, hungry desperation. I also think of my dad, sitting beside me. ‘It is a characteristic of wisdom not to do desperate things’, he would say, quoting Henry David Thoreau, one of his favorite historical authors.

Wisdom is for non-believers, I tell myself. Because on the day of his passing, he turned against his teachings, telling me it had all been a ruse, walls he’d built to keep the suffering out after the murder of our mother.

“You about done sulking?” Dyllian teases.

I nod. We have too far to go in the present without dwelling on the past.