Drowning in Deception (18 page)

She could hear his heart beating in her
ear, and noticed that it quickened slightly when he began absently twisting her
hair in his fingers.

“Tell me more about your people. Are
they all like you and Arma?”

His fingers kept twirling her hair as he
spoke, sending waves of pleasant chills throughout her body. “We’re all the
same in most ways. But there is some division in our society. Some of our
people are deeply ashamed of what they are. They’ve been taught to feel that
way by the gods, and it’s been handed down throughout the years. These are the
people who honor the gods without question and believe that our lives would be
much worse without the gods watching over us.”

He paused for a breath while Clover
wondered how their lives could possibly be worse. “But then there are those who
shun the beliefs of the elders, and these are the people who despise the gods.
These people believe that we are who we are, and there should be no shame in
it, nor should we be punished for it. With each new generation, more and more
people feel this way, and some even whisper about an uprising against the gods.”

Clover turned onto her stomach and
propped her head in her hand on his chest, looking closely at him. She was
trying to figure out which category he fit into. He had seemed so hateful at
first, which made her believe that he fit into the latter category. But then,
the way he had looked when admitting he was a killer had seemed a lot like
shame.

“So, I’m confused. You seem to hate the
gods, and yet you seem to be ashamed of what you are. Where do you fit in?” she
asked.

He lowered his chin to glance down at
her. “I do hate them. I’m sorry, Clove, but it’s true. They treat us like
animals and take everything from us.”

“It’s okay. I understand. I hate them
too.” It was hard for her to admit it out loud. But it was true.

He nodded worriedly at her. “But I’m not
ashamed of who or what I am. It wasn’t shame that you saw in my face. It was
sadness. I’m sad for you - for the fact that all of this has been hidden from
you, and I’m sad that my selfishness, my wanting to keep seeing you is putting
you in danger.” He looked her right in the eye. “I’ll be so careful to be calm
around you, Clove. I promise. But if someone else was to head this way while
hunting, and they saw you…”

“But you could protect me.”

“No, I couldn’t. As a rule, we don’t
fight one another. But even if we did, by the time I became angry enough to transition
and be able to match someone else’s strength, it would be over. You would be
dead.” The shadows casting over his face made his eyes appear darker than ever.

She felt her face pale as she turned to
lie on her back again. He pulled her close and they resumed their previous
position of her snuggling into his chest, and him playing with the ends of her
hair.

“There’s something I don’t understand.”

“Hmm?”

“Those who hate the gods…why don’t they
just run away? You know. Off into the wilderness.”

There was a brief hesitation before he
answered.

“Some have.”

“And?”

“And they were never seen or heard from
again.”

Clover thought she’d found the answer to
their problems and she felt excitement wave through her body. “Well, that’s
good. They’ve escaped then.”

Rye let out a strange sound. “Maybe.
Nobody knows for sure what happened to them. They might have escaped and are
now living freely somewhere else. But…the choppers sometimes fly past the city
to the wilderness beyond. People have heard the sound of gunshots way off in
the distance when the gods are there. So, maybe they didn’t escape at all…”

Clover’s wave of possibilities came
crashing down and quickly evaporated away.

“Maybe it’s time for a change of
subject,” she suggested. “Tell me about the uprising.”

“Not much to tell. It’s only a rumor.
And besides, we’re defenseless against the gods’ guns. We simply don’t have the
resources to stand against them.”

Clover and Rye spent the next few hours in
their nest of bushes, huddled together beside the lantern. Her questions
spilled out one right after the other, and he was more than willing to answer
everything he could for her.

The people of Quell didn't have a
written history. Since the ability to read had been lost, most books had been
burned over the years to help keep them warm during the cold winters. The few
books that did remain were nothing more than novelty items. So their peoples’
history had been slowly seared out over time as well. There no longer existed
any stories of a time when the Wall wasn’t in existence. As far as they were
concerned, it had always been there, as the gods had always been.

They talked long into the chilly night,
but Clover was warm and cozy snuggled up beside Rye. The longer they talked,
the more she felt like she understood him. The way he spoke to her, the way her
skin tingled from his touch, she could sense that something far greater than
friendship was happening between them. Things had never felt like this with
Zander. There was almost an electrical current between her and Rye. He could
never hurt her. She believed this with all her heart.

Someone was shaking her shoulder. “C'mon,
Clove. Wake up.”

She popped one blue eye open and
squinted at Zander lazily. She groaned and rolled over, wanting to return to
her dream that relived her goodnight kiss in the falling snow with Rye at the
boundary line.

“The group is coming over soon for a
meeting, and you promised you'd stay out of the way. So hurry up and get
dressed.”

She grumbled as the thick sleepiness
beckoned for her return to dreamland. It was very late, or maybe it had been
early, when she'd finally made her way back over the boundary line and
eventually into the spare bed at Zander and Sera's house.

“Have your meeting,” she said groggily. “I'll
just stay here and sleep.”

“No, Clove.” He started shaking her
again. “Get up. Don't make me tickle you.” It wasn't said in a teasing manner
like it used to be. He knew that she hated being tickled, and he meant it as a
threat.

“Fine,” she snapped as she raised her
head. “I'm awake. Now get out!”

She shuffled to the bathroom for a quick
shower, hoping it would make her feel more alive.

The water washing over her body did the
trick, and soon her brain had woken up too.

Facing the day was a whole new
experience now. The world she lived in had become a place she no longer
recognized, as if someone had tilted it and given it a good hard shake before
setting it down again. She didn't know exactly where her place was in this new,
altered reality. She wanted nothing to do with her parents, her friends were
like painted, porcelain dolls, and she was now living in a house with her
ex-boyfriend and sleeping across the hall from him and his new girlfriend, who
incidentally hated her. To top it all off, she was having very strong feelings
toward another boy, who by all accounts she should never have met, was
considered a monster by her people, and could too easily end her life.

The only thing that made sense to her
now was that changes needed to happen. The people of Eadin needed to be made
aware of what their world was actually like, and the people of Quell needed to
be treated with respect. But how to accomplish these grand feats completely
eluded her.

She wiped the fog from the bathroom
mirror with her towel and paused to look at the eyes that stared back at her.
They seemed changed now, too. They were harder somehow, less innocent. She
supposed that her eyes reflected the truth, because wasn't she now harder, and
less innocent?

Back in the bedroom, she threw on a pair
of jeans and a baggy sweatshirt over a tank top. She pulled her hair up into a
pony tail and walked out of the room without even the desire to do anything
more to her hair, or to apply any make-up - not even lipstick. She marveled at
how much time she saved in not having to do these tasks. And anyway, what was
the point of taking the time to look pretty for a world that was so ugly?

The group of five had gathered in the
kitchen, where they were sipping coffee and munching on muffins. Clover poured
herself a cup, snagged a muffin, and leaned against the counter to eat it.

Sera eyed her angrily. “Shouldn't you be
leaving now?”

“Actually...” Her voice was calm as she
made of point of sneering back at Sera, “...I was thinking I would stay.”

Zander gaped at her. “Clove, you
promised.”

She took a sip of her coffee. “I know.
But that was before. I think you might have a good cause here, and I'd like to
be a part of it.”

“Clove, you don't even know what the
cause is.”

“I know enough to understand that you're
all opposed to the milk drugging. So am I. And I suspect that you're also all
opposed to what happens on the other side of the Wall. Not only am I against it,
but I've seen it with my own eyes. I watched my own father bash someone in the
face with the butt end of a knife - for absolutely no reason at all.”

Everyone was sitting around the table,
except Zander, who was standing. They were all watching her intently and
listening. “Now I don't know what you're all planning, or even if you're
planning anything at all. But I do know this: you should be. We've been lied to
and drugged. Our friends are out there being lied to and drugged. I don't know what
we can do about it, if anything. But I'd like to try.”

Smith was smiling slightly and nodding
his head proudly as he watched Clover speak. Luas and the skinny boy whose name
she still hadn't figured out were shrugging and nodding. Sera was chewing her
lip and watching Clover carefully. She could tell that Sera agreed with what
she was saying, but Sera had yet to decide whether she would support Clover
joining the group of not.

Zander crossed over to where she leaned
and took her by the hand. “You're right,” he said. “Everything you just said is
right. But I don't want you involved.”

She pulled her hand away from him and
stared at him incredulously.

“Seriously, Clove. We don't have a plan
yet, but there's a chance that things could get dangerous. I just want to keep
you safe.”

“Oh, shut up,” she snapped. “I'm not a
child. And I'm no longer your charge, either. I can take care of myself. I
don’t need you or anyone else to
keep me safe
. I don’t want to be
kept
anything ever again.”

She could've been wrong, but she could
have sworn that the crooked smile Sera was giving her was one of pride and
admiration.

Zander looked helplessly to the rest of
the group, all of whom only shrugged.

Clover needed to get them on her side.
And she knew just how to do it. The power she'd felt the day before surged into
her veins. She was beginning to like this new found independence. It felt good
to be her own person.

“Whatever you're planning,” she said,
looking at them each in turn, “I'm sure you can use all the help you can get.”

She paused and licked her lips, shocked
at herself that she was about to reveal her secret. “I have a friend who lives
on the other side of the Wall. Maybe he can help. Apparently there’s been talk of
an uprising with some of the Carnae.”

All faces swung to hers.

Zander’s eyes were bulging from their
sockets. “Clover! You…”

“You know about the Carnae?” interrupted
Smith.

“Yes.”

“Then, I say she’s in,” said Smith.

Then skinny boy spoke up, “A yep from
me.”

“Maybe pretty girl could be useful after
all,” said Sera with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“What friend?” demanded Zander. Oh, poor
Zander, she thought with satisfaction, doesn’t like to know that I’ve been
keeping secrets from him too.

“Let’s move this into the living room,
shall we?” said Smith as he picked up a chair to take with him.

Skinny boy got up from the table and stuck
his hand out. “I’m Gart, by the way. Welcome.”

She shook his hand and turned to follow
them to the living room, but Zander grabbed her by the arm and spun her around.
She stared coldly at him.

“What are you doing, Clove? Are you
trying to get yourself killed? You have no business going over there in the
first place. You promised you wouldn’t go back there. And now you’re making
friends with…with them.”

She rolled her eyes. “Really, Zander.
And you have no business telling me what my business is.”

He was about to say more, but Sera, who
had been hovering in the background spoke up sharply before he could. “She’s
right, Zander.”

His shoulders rolled forward in defeat.
He gave Clover one final sad glance before grabbing Sera’s hand and making his
way to the living room.

Smith sat at the coffee table in the
chair he’d brought from the kitchen, Zander and Sera snuggled together on the
loveseat, and Luas and Gart were on either end of the sofa. That left only a
spot sandwiched between the two boys. She sat down and sank into the ugly old
couch so much that both boys were forced to lean into her. They quickly
readjusted themselves.

“So,” began Smith. “What can you tell us
about this uprising?”

All eyes waited for her response. Her
surge of power fizzled out as she realized she had nothing more to tell them. “Well,
not much. It’s only a rumor, I guess.”

They all made loud sighs or grumbling
noises as they looked away from her and at each other.

“I can get more information,” she said
quickly. “But first I need to know what you’re planning. You know, so that I
can pass it along. Maybe both sides can work together.”

“No. You’re not going back there,”
Zander shot at her, which earned him an elbow in the ribs from Sera.

Smith, ignoring Zander’s comment, said, “I
like the way you think. Working together is a very good idea. You’ll have to
ask your friend if he knows Turk and Delila.”

“Okay. Who are they?”

“They’re the Carnae that took me in and
protected me when I was dropped over the Wall. They work a vegetable farm on
the far side of Quell, and they hid me in their cold storage cellar. They gave
me clothes and food and shelter for a long time. They even helped heal me when I
tried to destroy the tattoos. They told me I could stay for as long I wanted,
but I was afraid I would bring harm to them if I was discovered.”

“How would that bring harm to them?
Wasn’t the danger that you would be killed by a Carnae who had transitioned?”
Clover wanted to understand everything.

“I was safe from the Carnae in the root
cellar. But your father… I mean the gods, sometimes come and do random searches
of the factories, houses, and farms. If I’d been discovered, then Turk and
Delila would have been killed. So I left after about three months, eventually
finding the door in the Wall. I lived in the forests for a long time, but I
needed more food to survive. So after a time I snuck into town and eventually found
Luas.”

Clover looked at the quiet red-headed
boy beside her. He was nodding at Smith.

“He brought me food and then the rest of
the group here helped hide me, and now here we all are. Anyway, Turk and Delila
are very kind people, and I know they would be willing to help in any way they
can.”

Clover watched Smith as he explained and
it occurred to her that his scars weren’t nearly as horrific as she’d first
thought. He was a nice man, a good man, and that seemed to radiate to his
outward appearance as well. Much as Rye’s scar was no longer menacing in her
eyes.

“Smith. I’m still not sure I understand
why they did this to you. Tattooing you and dropping you to your death seems a
pretty harsh punishment for teaching history.”

He scratched his chin and nodded. “The
journal that I found states that any and all crimes committed shall be punished
in this way. No exceptions. But it says nothing more about it. My personal
guess is that it swiftly takes care of the so-called criminals before they can
cause any more trouble, or create a rift within the society. And I think that
they feel they are somehow appeasing the Carnae by dropping the criminals over
there. Like an offering of sorts.”

It was just so horrible, so inhuman. “The
crazy thing about it,” Clover told them, “is the whole tattooing words on the
bodies. The Carnae don’t even know how to read.”

“Yes,” agreed Smith. “I learned that as
well. Now, where were we?”

Everyone seemed to be waiting for Clover
to say something, so she tried to remember where the planning had left off
before her question. Her eyes darted around the room. “Yes. Turk and Delila.
Got it. I’ll ask about them. Okay, so what’s the plan?”

They all seemed to squirm awkwardly. “We
haven’t actually gotten that far yet,” explained Gart. “Originally we thought
we should find more people to join us. Five people, well…six now, doesn’t seem
like a big enough group to make much of a difference.”

“All right, then. Where do we find more
people?”

“We don’t, pretty girl,” Sera said with
a sneer. “It’s not like we can talk about any of this to all the content people
walking around out there in Zombieland.”

Clover’s cheeks flared and she could
feel her ears burning. “Why do you keep calling me that? You know, maybe if
you’d put some effort into your look, you could be pretty too.”

Sera shot to her feet, hands clenched
into fists. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Clover rose to her feet too. She didn’t
know why Sera hated her so much, but she wasn’t about to let her push her
around. At least not anymore. “You tell me. You’re the one who keeps calling me
pretty girl. Must mean that you think you’re not.”

Zander took Sera by the hand and pulled
her back down beside him. Sera looked Clover over carefully. “Well, it’s just
all that colorful, shiny crap you wear on your face. And your perfect little
hair-dos. You think it all makes you look pretty, but it only makes you look
like a big phony.”

Clover was still standing. Looking down
at Sera, she smiled. “Yet another thing we’ve agreed on today. You’re right. I
was phony, even if it wasn’t my fault. But do you see any colorful, shiny crap
on my face today?”