Drowning in Deception (9 page)

He looked like
he might explode. He stood up and whipped around so she couldn’t see his face.
She watched fearfully as his back expanded and contracted with the long deep
breaths he was taking. When he seemed to have calmed himself, he turned and
faced her again, taking his place back down on the blanket. “Can we get this
over with?”

She stared down
at the book and attempted to begin to read. Her teeth chattered and her
shoulders involuntarily shook, making it impossible to get a clear word out.
The weather had been hinting of the arrival of winter. Why hadn’t she dressed
warmer? Even Arma’s dress and shawl weren’t helping.

She looked up at
Rye, embarrassed that she was visibly shaking. “I…” Her teeth chattered again.

Suddenly Rye
stood up. He let out a frustrated grunt as he moved to stand behind where she
was seated. Clover froze, wondering what he was doing. She was alone with this
person, this boy who clearly felt ill-will toward her. And she could sense that
he was dangerous in the wildest kind of ways. Afraid to look over her shoulder,
she held her shaky breath as he sat down directly behind her.

He slid his body
right up close to her back, straddling her from behind.

Both fear and
her breath jammed in her throat.

He leaned his solid
chest into her back and wrapped his arms around her, clasping his hands tightly
against her stomach.

“What are you
doing?” It was a hoarse whisper. She was thankful he couldn't see her face. Her
wide eyes were full of fear and she was sure her cheeks were devoid of blood.

“You were
shivering,” he said flatly. “You're cold, so I'm warming you up. Now can we get
on with it?” His words, which she felt teasing the nape of her neck, quickened her
pulse so that she could hear it beating chaotically in her own ears. She
swallowed, hoping he couldn't hear or feel her crazy heartbeat, and then she
slowly proceeded to read him the three stories from her book, two times each.

“Pretty easy to
remember,” he commented after she'd closed the book. “And your drawings help
too. I'll tell Abilee the stories tomorrow and then return your book in the
evening.”

Clover turned slightly
and adjusted herself to face him. She was looking right at his face, close up.
His eyes stared back at her, cold and listless.

Their time
together was over. She'd done what she’d promised Arma she’d do and now she
would never have to see this daunting boy again, come to this side of the Wall,
or step over the boundary line ever again. This gave her comfort.

“No,” she said. “Keep
the book. Abilee can have it.”

She expected
that her generous offer would soften him, but it seemed to have the opposite
effect.

“No. You’ve done
too much already. I don’t want to feel as though I owe anything to you or your
kind.”

Clover got to
her feet. She felt braver looking down at him in his place seated on the
ground. “My kind? I’m not a god. I’m just a girl. Please, take the book. You
owe me nothing.” Her voice squawked slightly at the end of the sentence,
causing her cheeks to flush.

Rye seemed to
consider it for a moment before getting to his feet. He moved within inches of
her, staring her coldly in the face. They were very close, too close; they were
practically breathing each other's air. Clover squirmed and attempted to
swallow whatever seemed to be choking her.

“No,” he snapped
in a whisper, causing her to flinch. “Come back here for your book tomorrow.”

She stepped back
and nodded solemnly.

He didn't move,
so she picked up her bag and left the bushes. She walked herself to the door,
where she paused and turned around.

He was still in the
nest of bushes. She could see the soft glow of the lantern making the leaves on
the bushes glimmer yellow, and she could see a large shadow that stretched long
and eerily within. It was then that Clover realized it was not only very cold
out, but also completely dark. She watched her breath linger in the crisp air
as she closed the door behind her and quickly stripped herself of Arma's spare
dress. She would have to make her way back through the woods all alone in the
dark. Her only comfort was that she was now on the side of the Wall without the
monsters.

A pounding
headache was Clover's wake-up call the next morning. It throbbed nonstop, making
every speck of light burn her eyes and every tiny sound reverberate through her
brain. She wondered briefly if she had caught whatever Abilee was suffering
from.

But no, Arma had
said Abilee was throwing up, and aside from having no appetite, there was
nothing wrong with Clover’s stomach.

She felt
helpless to do much of anything aside from lay down with her eyes closed all
day. She didn’t even have the energy to go see Zander.

Her mother found
her in bed later that afternoon. “Are you not feeling well?” she chirped as she
perched herself on the side of the bed. She looked like perfection in her crisp
blue pantsuit and bright smile.

“I’ve got a
headache. That’s all.”

She lovingly
took her daughter’s hand. “Can I get you something? A refreshing glass of milk,
perhaps?”

Clover tried to
smile back. “No. I’ll be okay. Thanks.”

“Okay, then. You
let me know if you change your mind.” She placed a kiss on Clover’s forehead
before rising and turning to go.

“Mom?”

She turned back,
eyebrows raised, a toothy smile invading her face. “Yes?”

“What do you
know of gods? Are there people that actually believe in all-powerful beings and
worship them?

The smile slowly
faded from her mother’s face and was replaced by a look of deep concern. She
clasped her hands in front of her body. “Why do you ask such a question?”

Clover did not
normally question anything. She felt her mother’s apprehension and it disturbed
her. “Oh, um… It’s just a book I recently read. About gods and stuff. I was
just wondering if there was any truth to it.”

The big smile
quickly returned as her mother breathed a sigh of relief. “Of course not.
You’re a writer, Clover. It’s just fiction - someone’s imagination.”

Clover nodded
and rolled over. Just fiction, she thought. Rye had it wrong.

***

It took a bit of
work to convince her mother that she was feeling better that evening. And that
was probably because she wasn’t. The headache persisted. She’d taken her supper
to her room but hadn’t touched any of it, and had dumped her glass of milk down
the bathroom drain.

But she had told
Rye that she would return for her book that night. Part of her wanted to just
leave it there, and pretend that Rye, Arma and Abilee had been nothing more than
something she’d dreamed up for a story. But really, how long would it take to
go and get the book? It would satisfy Rye so that he wouldn’t feel like he owed
her anything. And she wasn’t sure what a person like him would do if he felt he
was indebted to someone.

Rye was waiting
for her outside the nest of bushes with his usual bored-looking scowl.

As she
approached he held up her book, which she took and placed in her bag. She was
about to speak when she heard the sound of the helichoppers approaching. Rye
grabbed her and forcibly shoved her down along the side of the bushes. He
crouched beside her, his heavy arm draped across her shoulders, making sure she
stayed low to the ground.

Clover knew too
well that the helichoppers came to deal with the monsters. She’d seen it
firsthand on her father’s swollen lips. “Oh, no,” she whispered. “The monsters must
be out tonight. Rye, what should we do?”

It was then that
she realized their faces were touching because she felt him grind his teeth as
his jaw clenched next to her cheek. “Just shut up and be still.”

She did as she
was told, watching as the two choppers’ search lights scanned the woods and the
outskirts of Quell before moving on and landing somewhere near the residential
area.

He released his
hold on her and stood up.

The second she
was standing, two loud booms rang into the night, startling her into his chest.
Without hesitation he wrapped his arms around her.

She looked up at
him wide-eyed. “What was that?”

“Gunfire,” he
answered solemnly.

“Rye, I’m,
I’m…scared,” she stuttered. Being in the strong arms of this strange, angry boy
suddenly felt like the safest place in the world.

“Shh,” he
whispered into her hair. He was taller than Zander, his chin level with the top
of her head. “You’re safe. The
monsters
are all far away, over there.”
His hands caressed her back, comforting her, and slowly bringing her thudding heart
to a normal rhythmic beat. He seemed to be inhaling deeply as his nose nuzzled
into her hair.

After a minute
or two, she stepped away from him. “Thank you,” was all she could think of to
say. She couldn’t fathom how a person who seemed to hate her could so easily
offer such warmth and comfort.

He said nothing,
only looked on somberly in the direction of where the choppers had landed. She felt
bad for him and for the harsh life that he and his people lived. They had
nothing, and they had to share their city with monsters. It was no wonder he
was so callous. She suddenly felt the need to offer him something, anything.

She mustered up some
courage. “Rye. You owe me nothing, okay? But I would like to teach you to read.”
In her mind, perhaps if she could help educate them through the use of books,
they could find a way out of their impoverished lifestyle. There must be dozens
of books written on how to do things. Surely there were people that enjoyed
writing such books as much as she enjoyed writing fiction.

“We have no
books here to read.” His eyes lingered off into the distance.

“I could lend
you some.”  

After what felt
like an eternity, he turned to her with pain sketched across his face. “There
is something.” He searched her eyes. “It’s not in my nature to ask for
anything, especially from your k…someone like you. But I’m not asking for me.”
He rubbed a hand harshly over one eyebrow. “This isn’t easy…”

She nodded,
encouraging him to go on.

“It’s…” He
stooped into the bushes around the corner and pulled out the drink container
she’d left the night before. She’d forgotten all about it. It was now empty and
washed clean. “Can you bring more milk? I gave this to Abilee and she seems
better today.”

She shook her
head, confused. “Don’t you have milk here?”

“Nevermind. I
shouldn’t have asked.” He turned to walk away.

“No. No. It’s
okay.” She reached out and grabbed his arm to turn him back around. “I would be
happy to bring more milk. I was just curious, that’s all.” She couldn’t believe
the words came out of her mouth. She really was curious. Her head started
pounding again and Rye’s expression changed when he noticed her wince in pain.

His voice was
quiet. “Yes, we have milk. But the gods ration it. The amount that was in this
container is how much each house gets in one week.”

She began
rubbing her temples as she nodded, though she wasn’t sure she understood. According
to Rye, the people of Eadin were their gods. Why and how would they be limiting
the milk consumption of the people of Quell?

“Clover. You
should go home. You don’t look well.”

She nodded
again. “Yes. You’re right. I don’t feel good.” She dropped her hands from her
head and looked up at him. “I’ll make you a deal.”

He narrowed his
eyes slightly.

“I’ll bring more
milk if you let me teach you to read.”

He grumbled, but
nodded in agreement. “Fine. Now, come. I’ll walk you to your boundary line.”

“You don’t have
to do that.”

“Yes. I do.” He
took her by the arm and led her to the door in the Wall.

This time as
they walked together, he silently allowed her to set the pace.

***

The headache was
excruciating by the time she flopped into her bed that night. She’d never felt
such pain before. Whatever was wrong had killed her appetite, but her thirst
seemed unquenchable. She found herself getting up numerous times throughout the
night to drink water. That was the only thing that she craved.

She stayed in bed
all morning, interrupted only by her mother entering her room, feeling her
forehead and leaving a fresh glass of milk on her bedside table.  

When she finally
decided to pull herself from her bed, it was mid-afternoon, and the headache
had finally waned to a dull ache. She swore under her breath as she stretched. She
had put off sorting things out with Zander again, and that was priority number
one. She was also feeling bad that she hadn’t seen her friends for a few days.
They must be wondering what was going on with her. If only she could talk to
someone about everything. But what was there to say? She wasn’t sure what was
happening with Zander, and how could she tell anyone about Rye, Arma, and
Abilee without confessing that she’d broken the law - more than once?