The Essence of Water

NEW VERSION Chapter 6

The sun is gone but there is still light when I open my eyes. I stare at the dark underbellies of clouds and wait for the feelings of what I have done to come rushing over me with panic and guilt. It doesn't.

I sit up, my head pounds where it hit the ground and my arms ache from where Mr. Handler gripped me, I don't doubt that I'll have bruises. They are still passed out next to me and the road is silent. I get to my feet and lean heavily on the car. I get to the driver's side and grab the keys from the ignition. I know better than to steal the car, so I throw the keys as hard as I can over the stone wall and into the field. I find the button to open the truck and retrieve my bag. I swing it onto my back and tighten the straps. Then I take a deep breath and accept what I'm about to do.

I'm about to run. I'm about to condemn myself from ever having a chance at a normal life. Misfits who run are hunted down. But what life do I have if I go with them willingly? I look at the Handlers. They wanted to drug me and it wasn't concern I saw in their eyes, it was fear and aggression. They talk about treatments and diagnoses but no one has ever been deemed a Misfit and is seen again. We disappear. I look to the road. I'd rather take my chances. Even if I'm dying I'd rather die free.

So I run.

I let go of emotion and thought. I breathe and exhale when my feet hit the road. When my lungs stitch I slow to a walk. Darkness consumes everything and the temperature drops. My breaths swirl out in front of me. Headlights shine behind me and I turn, there is a vehicle headed towards me, moving slowly down the twisted road. The lights are too far off the ground to be a car, so I'm confident that it's not the Handlers. I take a sharp breath and say it the word aloud.

"Handlers." My eyes widen. Of course their names weren't actually Mr. Handler and Ms. Handler. They are Handlers. It's not who they are but what they are. Men and woman sent to collect Misfits like me. No wonder they were so alert and on edge, they'd been trained to expect something like this. I look at my hands, they were expecting it...

The truck crests the small hill and I stick out my hand and wave it down. The truck slows and the driver's side window rolls down. A woman with gray hair sticks her head out and asks, "You need a lift?"

I squint against the lights and nod, "I'm just headed to town if you're going that way."

"Sure, hop in the back." She sticks her thumb back towards the bed of the truck and rolls her window back up. I swing my bag up first and jump in. The cold hair lifts my hair and slips down my neck, cooling the sweat against my skin. I pull my knees close to my chest and burry my nose in them to keep warm. It feels like it takes forever to get back to town but when the truck stops outside the gas station I thank the woman and start running again.

I know it's a bad decision, but I'm going back home. I know the Handlers will come here; it's the first place they'll expect me to go. It's the only familiar place I know. But I'm not staying. I tell myself that over and over as I run. Get some supplies, keep running, get supplies, run, supplies, run, supplies, run, supplies, run. I repeat the words in my head over and over while I fight air into my lungs.

When I finally make it back the sky is rumbling with a threat of rain. I pray it comes soon. I step up to the darkened house and slowly open the back door. It's always unlocked, perks of living in the remote country and owning dogs.

The door squeaks and Jack start barking and growls. "Jack! Shush, it's only me," I whisper harshly. He stops immediately and I hear his nails hit the floor as he gets out of his bed, then his nose is at my feet and then his warm tongue is on my hand.

"Good boy," I say and rub his head. I softly close the door behind me. There is barely enough light to see by but I can't risk turning on any of the lights. I walk by memory and count the drawers to find a lighter, the flashlight, and extra batteries. I open up the third cupboard and pull down some canned goods. In the light I think I can see that there are beans, tuna fish, peas and a pack of beef jerky. I pop open the fridge and the light splashes across the floor, illuminating Jack who is watching me curiously. I take two bottles of water and close the fridge. I stuff everything into my backpack, leaving it on the table I slowly walk down the hallway. I use the bathroom and wash my hands and face.