Circles in the Dust (28 page)

             
“I needed to see you. Have you found out anything about the man who died? Who it was?”

             
“David…” Her eyes were wide and David saw that it was not only with surprise; there was fear there, as well.

             
“What is it? Was it someone important?”

             
“If it was someone important, I would have known who it was right away. There aren’t that many of us, you know.” Her words were calm and nonchalant as ever, but her voice held none of the unspoken laughter it had previously been rich with. David’s blood chilled.

             
“David, the Mayor wasn’t lying when he told Mitch that no one in the Base had died,” she whispered. He leaned in closer, waiting for her to go on, but she only lowered her head.

             
“What do you mean?” he asked.

             
“I mean,” she raised her head, heavy with grief and wet with despair, “no one has died, David.”

             
Confusion sent his head reeling as he tried to decipher the reason that would make her so morose. No one died, that was a good thing, right? Why the tears, then?

             
“No one died…? Is that bad?” he asked, mimicking her hushed voice.

             
“No one died, but that’s not what the Mayor has been saying,” she said. “He keeps telling everyone that members of the Base are dying. When you look around, it’s easy enough to see who it is. He gave me the names, and sure enough I couldn’t find them. But there was one name that didn’t make sense. Pat. The Mayor said Pat was one of the casualties, that he died over a month ago. But I saw him after that. One night, I was in the kitchen after everyone had gone to sleep. I was getting some bread to eat because I couldn’t sleep. He came in with a big pack. I said hello to him, but he just smiled and ran through the door. He’s not dead, at least he didn’t die that way.

             
“So I started asking around. Men have been dropping off, but everyone was so angry it was easy to believe the Outliers killed them. Now that I had the names, I started asking around. I found one other person who had seen Rick, another one who was supposed to have died. They saw him hopping the south wall early one morning. They’re not dying. They’re leaving. I don’t know why, but that’s what’s going on.” David cocked his head skeptically. “And when they were buried,” she went on, “no one saw their bodies. There was a hole being filled in, by the Mayor or one of the guards, but no one ever saw them being put into the hole.

“I tried asking the Mayor what that was all about. He sent me here to my room and told one of the guards to watch the door and make sure I don’t leave. I guess he forgot only one of the shutters is nailed shut though.” She looked over at the shutter hanging open and rose to shut out the night while David’s head whirled.

              “So no one has died?” he repeated. “It wasn’t just this last guy that wasn’t real, it’s all of them?”

             
“The most recent ones, at least. I know some people did actually die in the beginning, but that was before the wall went up and before the Outliers formed into one group. I think when Mitch arrived, that put an end to most of the raids, at least for a while. In the last few months, they’ve started up again, as you know.” Her voice was still hushed, but grew even quieter as she finished. “I think the Mayor has been lying about the Outliers.”

             
“You don’t think they’ve been killing anyone inside the Base?” David realized he must sound like a parakeet, but so many questions were buzzing around his brain they dominated the outflow traffic. “But why would the Mayor—” He stopped mid-sentence as the gravity of her words sunk in. She was staring expectantly at him as he cracked the code. The Mayor was turning the people of the Base ever more against the Outliers, while the Outliers were breaking themselves against the wall and reducing their own numbers.

How had Mitch not seen this coming? He was always brash and overconfident, David thought, the fire that tempered the steel of David’s caution. He had dug himself quite a hole this time. But was it just a hole, or a grave?

“They’re going to kill them tomorrow,” David breathed.

“Tomorrow?” Elizabeth asked.

“Yes, tomorrow. I overheard through the windows,” David told her. “The Mayor is going to march on the Outliers’ camp. And Mitch is going to see it as an escort, all the men coming out, a sort of summit. He’s going to make all the Outliers leave their weapons and welcome the men of the Base, and the Mayor is going to smile and embrace them, and then he is going to slaughter them. How could we not see this coming?” His hands reached up into his hair and tugged the damp strands desperately. He thought he had more time, he was supposed to have at least another week, and it was supposed to be the other side that he was concerned about starting the hostilities. This was all wrong.

David rose and stepped back toward the window.

“Where are you going?” Elizabeth asked him from the floor.

“I have to go back, I have to warn them. The Mayor is going to march in the morning, and they’re going to have no idea he’s coming. They have watchmen, which makes more sense to me now, so they might have a little notice, but they’ll be expecting a ‘welcome to the Base’ committee, not an army. But that’s what they’re going to get, and they’re all going to die. Mitch has been telling them nothing but the best about the Base, and most of them believe it, I think. I have to help them, Elizabeth.”

Uncertainty plagued her features as she looked at him, ready to leave her.

“You have to go,” she agreed with a whisper. He strode back over to her and pulled her to her feet. “What are you doing?” she asked. “You have to go. Now.”

He smiled a knowing smile as he gazed at her bright emerald eyes, floating above troubled freckles on a milky sea. He placed a grimy finger on her lips and led her to the window.

CHAPTER 36

They made it over the wall in a few minutes. Elizabeth knew the best place to sneak over just as Mitch knew the worst place. On the opposite corner from where the lumberjacks had tried their luck, there were almost no guards watching over the wall, and the one that was there and should have been covering the corner was clearly asleep, head propped up on a blunt log of the palisade. Elizabeth had to help David over the wall as his hands were close to useless. He had not realized how jagged the edge of the windowsill really was, but when he went to lower himself from her window he found out. They had been delayed by Elizabeth’s insistence that they bandage his hands before setting off. He wanted to get to the Outliers right away, but she argued that would never make it there if he couldn’t use his hands to get over the wall, and if he cried out in the attempt, they wouldn’t even live to see the morning. He acquiesced, though he could not put much pressure on the wounds despite the rags wrapped around them.

Once over the wall, they rushed across the open grass to the trees. They did little to hide their escape on the plain, but once in the trees they slowed down and resumed their stealthy flight as they circled around the Base. It wouldn’t do to be caught now, not tonight. Not together.

             
It was still late in the night, and the darkness swallowed up everything around them. The sky was pitch black, a starless sheet of obsidian. Even the moon was hidden. Their eyes were well-adjusted to the gloom by the time they made it to the trees, though it was still hard-going. At one point they stepped out into the grass by accident, and David nearly soiled himself.

             
They trekked on and on, speaking little, Elizabeth following behind David despite the fact that he had almost no idea which direction the Outlier camp lay in. Wandering for a while, they finally stopped when David tripped and put his hand out against a wizened old tree to save himself, only to have pain go ripping up his arm. He bit his lip until it bled to keep from crying out, not that it would make any difference if they were alone in the wilderness.

Maybe that was just the thing to do, yell and hope one of the roving Outliers found them. They would know which way it was back to the camp, despite the oppressive darkness. But they would also see Elizabeth, and David feared what their reaction might be. He didn’t want to have to kill one of those he was trying so hard to save. He loosened the revolver in his pants and wrapped his hand around the grip, curling his finger as if it were on the trigger, just to be sure he could still use it.

They continued after resting for a minute. Elizabeth asked if he knew where he was going, and he admitted that he was lost. She followed along anyway, telling him that she was just as lost as he, that she could barely see her hand in front of her face.

After a while David heard the crackle of a boot on dead pine needles and they crouched down. David could hear the sounds of approach and a host of butterflies took up residence in his gut. Whoever they had run into was coming closer and closer, and would be on them before long. David turned around and held a finger up to his lips and gestured for her to stay where she was. Elizabeth nodded, and even in the scant light, David could see her shaking.

He stood and zigzagged through the trees toward the unseen stalker, gun drawn. “Who’s there?” he shouted when he guessed they were perhaps a hundred feet away.

“Who wants to know?” a gruff voice said defiantly.

“Mort?” David asked, thinking it sounded like the leathery rasp of the gnarled second in command of the Outliers. There was a pause. “Mort, it’s David. I’m lost out here. Which way to camp?”

Mort came shambling out of the darkness, speaking not a word until he was in sight. He had a formidable shotgun propped against his shoulder, the sight trained on David’s heart. The gun dropped when he got closer, but only to his hip, and the muzzle was still staring at David’s chest.

“What are you doing all the way out here, boy?” he asked.

“I—” David realized he had no real response to that, especially considering he had no idea where he was. Why would he be out here? Might as well go with the truth. “I was at the Base. Something’s gone terribly wrong. I need to get to Mitch now. It’s so damn dark out here, I got turned around. Which way back to camp?”

He replaced his own weapon in its place against his belly, and looked around while he waited for Mort’s response, which was long in coming.

“You know,” Mort said as he took a step closer, “I don’t know about you, David.” He said the name with distaste, and David wondered for a moment if there were simply something wrong with it. “You come in out of nowhere, just when the shit’s about to hit the fan, and suddenly people start dying and you’re always off wandering through the woods. Makes a man wonder whose side you’re on.” David glanced down at the barrel of the gun as it rose to his face.

“Mort, I’m on everyone’s side, okay? That’s why I’m here. I just need to get back to the camp right now, or a lot more people are going to die. Trust me,” he pleaded.

Mort’s eyes were blank as he debated.

“Mitch seems to trust you,” Mort said. “He thinks pretty highly of you. You two knew each other before though, didn’t you?”

David realized that Mort had taken his getting close to Mitch as a threat. His throat grew tight and sweat broke out on his face. He wished he had been slower to holster his weapon. “Mort, I’m just trying to help. You, me, them, everyone. I’m not trying to take anyone’s place or
—”

“Ha!” Mort shouted. David cringed; the man’s laugh was oddly reminiscent of the pulling of the trigger on a large firearm. “You think I’m that petty, do ya? I’m just trying to look out for my own. You seem kind of shady to me. Never seem to talk very much, always looking around. Counting us, maybe?” He raised an eyebrow. “And why would you be going back to the Base now? They were the ones that locked you up, weren’t they? I would have thought you’d steer clear of that place.” He was no more than a ghost, a pale specter in a black band t-shirt riddled with holes, only spots of him visible in the low light, no more than the part of his face unshielded by his grizzly beard, the spots of skin visible through his shirt, and the barrel of the gun still trained David.

“Mort, you have to believe me—”

“Drop your gun right now, you ugly son-of-a-bitch.” The shrill command came from behind David, and he cringed as he heard it.

“What the—? Who’s out there?” A bullet tore through the bark of a branch next to Mort’s head, and he jumped. David worried he would fire in fright, but he refrained.

“Drop it!” the female voice commanded, sounding more authoritative than David would have guessed possible.

There was a pause while Mort’s grip tightened on his weapon, though he reluctantly let the muzzle of his gun graze the earth at his feet. David drew his revolver from his belt and trained it on Mort’s heart out of instinct.

“I thought I told you to stay where you were,” David growled when Elizabeth strode up to his side.

“We’re running out of time,” she hissed.

“Still, I was handling this,” he grumbled. “All right, Mort, which way back to camp?”

Mort stared at the pair with confused and discerning eyes. He said nothing.

“Dammit Mort, just tell me. Everyone’s going to
—”

David’s words were cut off by a second gunshot that set his ears ringing. He whirled on Elizabeth. He was about to shout at her when Mort spoke up.

“That way,” he blurted, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. The caution had gone from his face. Terrified instinct had taken over.

David took a few steps forward and snatched Mort’s weapon. “I’m going to take this, just to make sure you don’t shoot us in the back. We’re on your side, Mort, but for Christ’s sake, we’re in a hurry.” He took a step back and stopped. “Sorry,” he shrugged.

Elizabeth hurried to keep up with him as he blazed through the woods, kicking rocks and sticks out of the way, barely aware of them. That was not the way he wanted to handle that, and he didn’t look forward to his next meeting with the muscled man. He glanced over at Elizabeth and saw her shaking, clutching her body with her arms, looking terrified.

“Are you all right?” he asked her.

Her eyes were wide as a deer’s. “Yeah, I’m fine,” the words rushed out. “I just,” she stopped and looked away. “That was—”

“Terrifying, I know,” he finished. He smirked. “I wouldn’t have thought you had that in you.”

“Let’s not do that again, okay?” she said, a small smile breaking through her terror, though her arms stayed clasped around torso.

“That’s not going to be the last time you have to be brave,” he said gravely.

“I know,” she said, though her voice was reluctant.

They walked on in silence, though it was not long before the trees fell away to be replaced by large blocks of distilled night, a ring of them around the glowing embers of a fire. David picked up his pace as he stepped into the cleared area, running for the cabin where Mitch slept. He reached the door and turned to see Elizabeth holding back, eyes darting nervously back and forth. David ran back to her and grabbed her by the hand. He looked into her eyes and tried to fill his with as much reassurance as he could. She had shown so much courage just in coming here. Admiration for her dauntless spirit washed over him. Even with her features fuzzy and gray in the wan light of the night just before dawn began its approach, she was beautiful. Her eyes were full of frightened tears and her cheeks were flushed with terror, and she was gorgeous.

Knowing this may be his last chance, he stooped to plant a kiss on her lips; mid-stoop he aborted and aimed for her forehead. He was closing in when her face puckered and—

She sneezed.

He caught the brunt of the blast on his chest, though a few droplets came to rest on his chin. He wiped the mucus away and smiled. She returned his with an apologetic grin. He wished there were time to try again. Resolving to make time later he opened the door, gun in his left fist, Elizabeth’s clammy hand clutched in his right as he led her inside.

“Mitch,” David called softly into the absolute darkness within.

He could hear Mitch rolling around and grunting, unhappy at being woken in the middle of the night.

“Mitch, wake up,” David said again, louder this time.

“What do you want?” Mitch slurred.

David turned and propped the door open, which had swung shut after they had entered. The dismal light that entered the room was not enough to see Mitch any better, so David used it only to find his own bed and sit himself and Elizabeth down while they were enveloped once again in darkness by the creaking door.

“You need to get up. Now. It’s important.”

“Ugh,” was the only reply from the other side of the oppressively small room.

“Mitch, they’re coming.”

Mitch froze.

“They’re coming?” he repeated breathlessly. “It’s time?” He sounded excited, like a boy about to walk into the backyard on Christmas morning in search of a new bicycle.

“Yes, Mitch, get up. Wait, no, it’s not what you think,” David gushed.

“What do you mean it’s not what I think?” Mitch asked. “Is it not someone from the Base?”

“It is, Mitch, but they’re not coming to welcome you home,” David said. There was only silence from the other side of the room. “Mitch
—”

“We shouldn’t talk here,” Mitch interrupted. “You can never be sure who’s listening, especially at night.” David could hear more shuffling, the slip of a foot penetrating a boot, and the crunch of dirt underneath it. Mitch pushed the door open. “Let’s go.”

David rose and took a step forward, right into Mitch’s outstretched hand. David saw that his eyes were engrossed with something behind him.

“This is Elizabeth,” David said, turning and holding a hand out to her. She took it and strode up beside him. “Elizabeth, this is Mitch, leader of the Outliers.”

“Unofficially,” Mitch said as he held out his hand. She grasped it awkwardly. Mitch looked over to David and mouthed, “She from the Base?” David nodded.

Mitch looked impressed as he led them into the night. He moved quickly, stepping back behind his own cabin and around the outside of the ring of them. There was not a sound made in acknowledgement of their wandering from any of the Outliers as they arched around the camp and through a dense thicket that led up to the crest of a small hill where a handful of stumps dotted the otherwise bald head. Mitch took a seat on one and gestured for them to do the same. They leaned their heads in close.

“So, Elizabeth, you’re from the Base,” Mitch began.

“Yes, I am.” She looked scared and unsure of how to act around Mitch. He had an air of nonchalance that was disarming to most, but perhaps being introduced as the leader of her people’s longtime enemies was not the easiest way to start a conversation, David reflected.

Mitch turned to David. “She’s very pretty,” he said as if she were not sitting right in front of him. David blushed.  “I think I get it now,” he went on. “Why you stayed at the Base for so long.” He snickered.

“Shut up,” David chided. “We have more important things to talk about, Mitch.”