Within the Walls

Chapter 2

"They don't think for themselves," my father used to say. "The other hunters give in too easily." Although, I knew he was also referring to everyone else in the Floodgates. Even though the River also separates the Convex and Concave from one another, everyone fears it. People keep their distance as if the water might leap from its bed and attack. The River is a monster many are afraid to look in the eye. They say the water carries the virus. It has left half a city scared of life's vital element.

Not that I blame them. We've all, at some stage, witnessed what the Drown virus does to people. It begins with a First Cough. Once you have it, that's it. They require us to report a person in this case. But many don't. That's when the virus begins rapidly reproducing in the lungs, producing toxic chemicals that literally burn your lungs away. It often ends with the poor soul coughing up the bloody remains of their lungs. Not a pleasant death, I can assure you.

"Isabelle!" I cry and hurry over to her.

As I kneel at her side, she throws out her hand and pushes me back. "Stay away from me, Elle! I don't want you getting sick."

"You're not sick, it must be a stomach bug," I say, hearing the shrill panic in my voice.

"Don't be stupid, Elle. I'm coughing up blood."

"I don't understand." I stumble back to my feet and stare at her like a weak animal. She leans against the couch, hunching into her knees.

"Well, I must have had some tainted water," she says like it is obvious.

"But we boil our water," I say, trembling. "You don't have the drown."

"Shh!" She snatches my wrist, digging her nails into my flesh. "I don't want to end up like mum and dad."

"You won't." I shake my head, pulling my hand away. "I'll see Aston and we will find a remedy. His grams must have something."

"Stop, Elle," she hisses before coughing into her elbow. She stares back, a hollow look in her eyes as crimson trails from her trembling lip. "Look at me. I have the drown. You need to report me, Elle."

"What?" I gasp and shake my head again. "That's ridiculous. You just said you don't want to be banished?"

"Of course, I don't. But if we do not report it, they will shoot you."

"No. You don't have the drown, Isabelle. I will find you a remedy like I said."

I spin around, march right back out of the door, knowing she is too sick to follow. She shouts curses after me, anyway.

Outside, I navigate through the streets towards the square. The tight-knit buildings throw strange shadows on the paths and walls.

I pass through the square. I cannot help but notice the stake on the stage, and the telltale stain of blood, as if whoever cleaned up yesterday missed a spot. I catch the gaze of a Tranquillity Patrolman, who clutches his rifle over his chest, eyes following me as I disappear back into the streets. At last, I arrive at the end of the Convex Sector. I enter the Trades, which is really an alleyway of markets.

I allow myself to be swallowed by the disarray of senses. Hooves clatter as horses pull carts of black-market goods, the metal wheels rattling along the cobbled ground. People shout greetings at one another, and they huddle in small groups and flit between the stalls. Burnt metal and charcoal make my nose wrinkle and my stomach protests as I ignore the smell of warm stew. I pick my way through the stalls as my eyes accommodate the dim lighting. I use the small quota provided by the government to purchase a loaf of bread, potatoes, and a couple of logs of firewood. Meanwhile, Isabelle's blood splatters stain my vision. As I round a corner, with my sights set on a stall selling oils, someone hollers my name across the aisle of vendors.