Flock

Chapter 4

"We are more than just their servants," Bogan Oswald boomed. His voice seemed to bounce off the cement walls and reverberate through the room as the crowd murmured their assent. I stood next to him, eyes wide.

"We shouldn't be relegated to the shadows! Or forced to hide in these ruins while they sit high and mighty above us - waiting for us to deliver their precious Kryifem from the mines."

I twisted my hand-me-down skirt in my fingers. The fabric gritty from the sooty streets and watched the angry adults before me. Elections were coming, and while the city still voted, it was the Kryjia who had the final say on who would lead us. What Bogan was saying now, down here in the basement of a dilapidated house; hidden away from the prying eyes of the Kryjia, was not the same speech he gave when we were in the city square.

If the Kryjia could hear him now, he would be publicly executed on the spot. Dissent amongst the humans was not allowed. The Kryjia expected us to be thankful, thankful for allowing us to continue to exist beside them on our planet.

"How will you do it?" a voice from the back of the room called. Silence descended upon the room, and the crowd peeled away like the skin of an onion—one layer at a time—until the speaker was revealed.

She was short, with a red pixie haircut and bold blue eyes. Her arms were folded across her chest as she repeated her question, "How will you do it?"

"Do what?" Bogan asked her.

The woman snorted, her eyes rolling none-to-daintily in her head. "You call for injustice; do you plan on working towards equality with the Kryjia? Or are you another whining puppet that uses our fears to your advantage? Who are you? What will you do for us?"

Bogan was smitten. I could tell.

"Equality is nowhere in the near future, Miss?"

"Clark, no Miss. Just Clark."

"Equality is nowhere in the near future, Clark. Instead, we need someone to take the first steps to protect our workers in the mines, to provide more food, to begin the underground rebellion. We can't just storm the castle and expect to win."

Clark narrowed her eyes and let her arms fall to her sides, her fingers curling into fists. "Puppet it is."

She didn't wait for a response, instead, she turned on her heel and the crowd parted for her immediate exit. Bogan laughed nervously, the crowd intently watching Clark's retreat. He was losing them. Their low murmurs were not in angry collusion but in awed whispers—of Clark.

I tugged on Bogan's shirt, attempting to bring him back into focus. He looked down at me for a moment before he cleared his throat and addressed the crowd once more.

"Clark has her sights set too high, too soon. We'll get there eventually, we will - but it starts with small steps. Like this," Bogan said pointing at me. I blinked up at him, silent as usual.

"Olivia wandered into our town from beyond our borders. She is proof that there is life outside of Javink. People who may not be living under the thumb of the Kryjia. We have potential allies, we just need to search for them."

A small bubble of light floated towards me down the corridor. My breathing hitched and I waited for the light to approach.

"You're slow."

I let out the air I was holding, as the Kryjia I was traveling with appeared with the light. He handed me the lantern and tugged on my shirt. "Follow," he said. "Quicker."

"I'm moving as fast as I can," I grumbled. My breathing slowly returning to a more normal exertion-based state. "One step of yours is like three of mine."

"Quicker, and silent. Others may hear you; you're louder than a newborn."

"Others? You mean Kryjia are living down here? Why?"

He whipped around and slapped his palm over my mouth, his other hand coming up to indicate silence. I had a second of thought where I was willing to argue, but he looked nervous.

I nodded once against his palm, acquiescing to his instructions. His hand left my face to take my free hand, the other was white knuckling the lantern he had given me. I had so many questions about what was happening, but deemed it best to wait for a proper time to interrogate my kidnapper, or life-saver depending on how the rest of the evening panned out.