The Outcast Ones (8 page)

Then I quickly cover my mouth with my hand. I’m shocked at myself. What am I doing? I’m not like her. I don’t want to be like her. Not a rebel. Rebellion is bad.

It’s time for me to get out of here, but it’s not that simple. It can’t go wrong. I’ll have to watch them first, and I should start straight away.

Softly I step towards the wall where the door is and settle carefully on the floor so I can look out of a hole. Immediately I freeze—a man’s legs partially block my sight. Is it Finn? Or Paul?

At the opposite side I see two other men. Strangely enough, they remind me of the safety zone, because they look like each other. Both of them have shaggy black hair, and unlike Finn, they look happy. They’re shoving each other, telling a story and then laughing heartily. I like watching them—I don’t feel so alone.

F701 didn’t come back. A week has gone by since I decided to escape. I counted the sunrises and sunsets. I noticed that most of the outcasts sleep at night, just like we do in the safety zone. During the day there are mostly four guards in the hall with the corridors, but at night there are only two. I like it best when it’s Jep and Pep. I’ve found out that the outcasts call them twins. But they’re not as alike as I thought. Jep’s voice is nicer than his brother’s, but Pep is better at playing guitar. Pep is also a little bit shorter than Jep, which he tries to make up for by taking extra long steps so that his gait has something of a hop to it. Pep’s favourite colour is green, but Jep prefers blue. Their clothes are always a mix of colours, never so dull as the suits in the safety zone or Finn’s boring black.

When they play music together, for that moment I forget my escape plans and just listen. It’s more beautiful even than laughter and it makes me wonderfully happy. Whenever Jep and Pep laugh, it makes me laugh too, quietly, just for myself. They’ve heard me several times but continued to ignore me. Once, Pep even wanted to check on me, but Jep reminded him that Finn would be mad if he found out. Finn seems to be mad a lot of the time. So I’m happy if I don’t have to see him, and often that is the case. During the day, Paul often asks me questions or else they leave me completely alone.

I’m always happy when it’s time for food—“feeding time”, as Finn calls it. I don’t care that it’s bread every time. The Legion commanders could really learn something from the nutrition here. It’s delicious.

Once Paul wanted to give me something called “soup”, but Finn wouldn’t let him. He said it was too valuable for someone like me. I don’t care how much he hates me. I’ll be gone soon. Today’s the day. Today I’ll dare to take the leap and escape. I hope Jep and Pep will make music again first, because besides the bread, that’s what I’ll miss most in the safety zone

Carefully I look up to the hole in the ceiling. It’s so dark already that I can hardly differentiate the sky from the cave roof. Heavy clouds cover the stars, robbing me of light. Actually I find the clouds just as fascinating as the sun, the moon or the stars, because I never saw any of these things from inside the safety zone. I like watching the clouds move across the sky, or small ones joining up with bigger ones. Sometimes they’re white like the Legion commanders’ suits, sometimes they’re grey like the hallways in the safety zone.

Sometimes the whole sky is full of clouds and other times there are only a few little ones. I could watch them for hours. But today they are an irritation. Without starlight I’ll see even less of the strange surroundings. It might be crazy, but it’s my only chance to get back to the safety zone, back to my home. Well, if I can’t see anything, maybe the outcasts won’t see me either.

Quickly I look out one of the small holes in the wall to observe the situation. Tonight Finn is there, which makes it even more necessary for me to escape.

Without thinking, I look through the hole and freeze as the lively blue of Finn’s eyes looks into mine. Instantly I cower back and start concocting an explanation, although no one told me I can’t look through the holes.

I expect the door to be shoved open, but it remains quiet. He must have seen me—he looked right into the cell. Why did he do that? Does he want to watch me? Does he know what I’m planning?

Carefully I step to the wall again and look through a different hole. This time I see a wave of Finn’s blond hair. He’s standing with his back to the cell, so that I can see his profile from the side. Through his hair I can see his reddened cheeks in the light of his torch. He looks uncertain, just as embarrassed as me.

Both of us stop breathing without knowing it. The only sound is the wind whistling through the holes in the cave.

Suddenly Finn clears his throat and breaks the silence. “Why did you look at the sky?”

It’s the first time his voice hasn’t sounded rough and mean. He actually seems interested.

“I wanted to see the stars.”

At first he’s quiet but I can see by his expression that he wants to know more. He starts to speak a few times but always stops himself. Eventually he makes himself do it. “Was it here that you saw stars for the first time?”

“Yes,” I whisper back. “They’re beautiful.” I don’t know why I’m telling him this, but it feels right. The stars are something neither of us can influence. They have always been there and will always be there. It would be wrong to say that I don’t like them just because it was in this place that I saw them for the first time. The projected stars in the Atrium can’t be compared with the real thing at all. They don’t sparkle and they don’t move.

Finn is silent, but his face doesn’t seem quite so dismissive as it usually is. There’s a question I’ve always wanted too ask him but I’ve never had the chance.

“How do you know D523?”

In an instant his body goes stiff and his lips press together until there’s only a narrow line to see. I know immediately it was a mistake to ask him. I move back just in case, because I expect him to get mad any second now, but he only straightens his shoulders and calls out, “Paul, you take over here.”

Paul comes loping along and Finn disappears from view.

When I’m back in the safety zone, I’ll ask D523 about Finn. I’m sure she won’t make such a secret out of it. She’s always been honest to me, even if not everything she said was exactly true. At least she believed it was true.

When I try to climb up the sandy wall, my boots scrape loudly. Far too much noise. If I keep going, Paul is certain to get suspicious. Quickly I slip to the front wall and look out. He doesn’t seem suspicious yet, but surely it won’t be long before he gets interested in the sound.

Without hesitating, I crouch to the floor and undo the laces of my boots.

The sand feels strange under my bare feet. It sticks between my toes and is pleasantly soft and warm, even though it’s night-time. I’ve never felt my feet more than in this moment. Now, when I set a foot on the wall rock, there’s nothing to hear. With my hands I grip the uneven rock spurs and pull myself upwards against the wall. It’s hard to find places to hold on, but I can do it, and I’m even enjoying it. In the safety zone there was no place for climbing, everything is flat or polished there. But then, no one there is preparing to escape. In the past I would have asked why I’d ever want to escape from somewhere. The safety zone was the only place that existed for me in the whole world.

The hole in the ceiling is so close now that I can stretch a hand through it, then I rest on one foot and push my face through. A cool wind blows around my nose and my bald head. It even smells different here. I can’t describe the smell, it’s got so many facets and it’s so strange that I have no words for it.

I try to recognise something, anything in the darkness, but except for red hills, I can’t see a thing. Still I push my body through the narrow hole. My hips stick for a moment, but a little effort helps me out and I’m free. Barefoot, I stand beside the hole and look out at the surroundings.

Slowly my eyes get used to the dark, but I can’t believe what I’m seeing. I thought there would be level ground, a little cave in the middle of nowhere. But it’s completely different. Around the cave I stand on, which isn’t small at all, there are trees several metres high. It must be a kind of forest. None of it is dead, as the Legion commanders always showed us in their recordings. There’s more life here than would ever be possible inside the safety zone.

For a moment I find myself doubting and I ask myself what else the Legion might not have told us. Maybe I should stay here, maybe the outcasts are right. But the way to freedom is within my reach. It’s so near that I don’t want to climb back into the tiny cell. I cast my doubts away and step carefully across the hilly cave top, one foot in front of the other.

The cave is much bigger than I thought. There must be a lot more in there than just the hall with the little cells. I make an effort to go slowly so that no one will notice me. The wind drags at me, pushes me, shoves me from one side to another. So I’m happy when I notice the slope starting to descend. I drop to my knees and grope along the ground, then let myself down over the edge.

Suddenly I hear excited voices some distance away. Torchlight brightens the darkness in the distance. Have they really noticed my disappearance so quickly? Looking at the trees I judge that it can’t be much farther so I let myself fall to the ground. But it must be several metres, and I lose control of my body. With a loud crash I land on my rear in the rough sand. I get up quickly when I hear running feet, and decide to hide in the forest. They won’t find me so easily there.

Although it’s hard to run on the uneven ground with bare feet, I run so fast that my lungs burn. The soles of my feet burn too, I must have damaged them a lot by now. The forest floor is strewn with leaves, branches and stones. Again and again I stumble and trip over roots. But every time I fall down, I get up again. My own heartbeat drowns out the voices of my hunters. I don’t know if they have weapons, although I think I hear a shot now and then. Maybe I was imagining it.

A loud crash makes me flinch. For a moment the forest is flooded with bright light. Was that a shot? In a panic I look around, but no one is there. I saw their torches just before, but I’m all alone now.

Maybe they’re just tricking me so they can catch me. I run on and resolve not to stop again. As long as I’m running, they won’t get me. At the next cracking sound I scream without wanting to. It’s so loud, so wild, that it seems a tree must have fallen over. The sky lights up for fractions of a second and I see a black silhouette between the trees behind me.

Water breaks out of the sky and pours over me. Rain. Slowly I gather what I learned in educational training. They’re not shooting at me. That’s thunder and lightning. It’s a storm. I’m fascinated so much that it takes an effort to keep running. Every step hurts and my heart beats wildly. The taste of blood spreads in my mouth

Although the leaves catch some of the rain, I’m completely soaked after a few seconds. The suit fabric clings to me, damp and unpleasant, and the rain washes the dust from my skin and runs into my eyes, where it burns. Each time the thunder crashes, I wince and want to crawl into a hole. But there is no shelter.

Something hits me hard in the back and I fall full length on the ground. My teeth grind together with the impact and the pain makes my head vibrate. The weight pressing me down is stopping me from breathing. I turn myself over, kicking and flailing wildly around me.

Another bolt of lightning blasts through the dark forest and I look into Finn’s eyes, full of hate.

I feel crippled. For a moment we stare at each other without speaking. He presses my wrists into the ground. It’s useless to resist. His knees press into my thighs so I can’t kick him.

“That was a mistake,” he growls, and his voice is so icy, so void of emotion, that all hope dies completely and irrevocably.

- -

W
hile I was running, I was so scared and my heart beat so fast that I was able to ignore the pain in my feet. But now that my situation is hopeless, I feel them all the more. I can hardly walk on them without tears welling in my eyes, and I have to bite my teeth together hard. I don’t want to take another step, but Finn doesn’t agree. Merciless, he shoves me ahead of him through the forest. He’s not interested in my feet, not interested that I can’t see anything in the dark. When I trip over my own feet or a tree root, he pulls me up roughly by the elbow and drives me on.

It seems to me that we’ve been going for hours, and I have to admit I’ve lost all sense of time. No matter how long I was trained in the safety zone, it’s all been wiped away out here.

My suit is hardly recognisable any more. It’s covered in red dust, then mud, moss and green pine needles that poke into my skin. It’s torn all over and only sticks to me as ugly rags.

My feet fail me yet again and I fall forward, to my knees. The pain shoots up to my jaw and my cracking lips. Instantly, Finn’s cold hand grips my upper arm and pulls up, but I resist, falling to my rear instead. I won’t go another step. Let him carry me!

“Get up,” he orders, but I ignore him and rub my dirty, scraped hand across my sweaty forehead.

As usual, he reacts badly to my disobedience and grabs me with both hands under the armpits to drag me up. I hang like a wet sack in his arms until he finally gives up and drops me back to the ground. To my surprise he doesn’t yell at me or try again to get me up. Rather, he sinks down beside me. He’s just as exhausted as I am. But unlike me, he’s wearing shoes and proper clothing.

“Five minutes, then we’ll go on!” He crosses his arms grumpily in front of himself. I feel triumphant, like I’ve won. I can’t help it—I grin.

Finn doesn’t notice straight away because he refuses to look at me, but when he glances at my face for a fraction of a second, his mood darkens. He’s back on his feet in the blink of an eye. “If you find all this so funny, then you can keep walking, too.” This time, he wins.

With an effort, I force myself to my feet. If he would even give me a hand up, or if I could lean against his shoulder—but my touch seems like a lightning bolt to him. Whenever our arms touch accidentally, he shrinks back in disgust. It should be me who despises him—he’s the rebel after all, not me.