"Well, well, well. So it is true." The voice makes me pause mid-stretch. Atlas and I look over to see Israel sauntering towards us, a grin on his face. Atlas comes out of the stretch, already biting his inner cheek. I smile softly, both at Atlas's reaction and my relief at not having to try the one-legged stretches again. In the week since I learned about my Mark, I've gotten better at them. Better enough that Atlas doesn't have to physically adjust me anymore, but not better enough to hold them for more than a few seconds. Part of me wants to mess them up just to feel his touch again, but the other part of me knows how ridiculous that is.
"Hey, Israel," I greet, and Israel grins over at me, giving me a slight wave before turning his attention back to Atlas. I watch the two men intently, excited to see what this interaction will bring. Taryn told me on my first day that Israel was Atlas's second-in-command, but it wasn't until later that I learned they were also best friends. Up until now, though, I hadn't had a chance to see them together in a relaxed setting. Sometimes I would see them together in passing, but for the most part, the only time I'd seen them was when I learned about Matt. And that was not exactly a relaxed setting.
"What's true?" Atlas asks.
"That Mr. I-Strech-Alone actually has let someone join his little morning routine," Israel answers. Atlas stares at him for a moment, before easing up on his inner cheek and giving Israel a smirk.
"You know, it must be a day of surprises. Mr. I-Always-Sleep-In is actually awake at sunrise," he counters, and Israel laughs a little bit.
"What can I say? Rosalie woke up early and since Annalise was already working on breakfast, my daughter made sure that I knew she was awake," Israel says with a shrug. "Rosalie ran off to spend time with her mother, and I came over here to see if the rumors were true. And they are." He crosses the distance to Atlas and throws his arm around the taller man's shoulder, looking over at me with curiosity. Atlas looks down at his friend with a look of boredom.
"Are you here for something or are you just here to bother me?"
"Who says it can't be both?" Israel wonders, before nodding his head toward me. "I'm just wondering what's so special about her that you're letting her stretch with you."
"I... uh... well..." Atlas stammers and Israel's brows raise in amusement. I have to admit, mine might have done the same thing. It was a question I'd asked myself but had never voiced. I'm still not positive I want to know the answer. I'm content with keeping those emotions unspoken. I'm content with whatever relationship we have between us and not questioning it or trying to put a label on it. I'm content with the way this is now. I don't want words and questions changing it.
"Ah, I see. Is it because...?" Israel drops his voice and speaks in Atlas's ear, hiding his next few words from me. Atlas's brows furrow and he bites his inner cheek as Israel talks before his face goes slack and his eyes go wide. He takes a step and pushes Israel away, shaking his head in disbelief.
"I do not," he argues in a low voice. Israel bursts out laughing, and against my better judgment, I softly laugh with him. I don't know what was said and I don't need to. It's amusing enough to simply watch the two men. They certainly act like best friends, giving each other shit in such an easy manner. It's a crime I haven't gotten to see this side of them before now. An absolute crime. There are few things, I've found, more enjoyable than watching two grown adults act like absolute children around one another.
"Are you sure?" Israel asks as Atlas glares over at him. "Because that's not what it sounded like the other night."
"What does that mean?" Atlas questions.
"Yeah, Israel, what does that mean?" I wonder, and Israel looks at me with a wide smile.
"Ah, now, see?" Israel says as he walks over to me. This time, he throws his arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer. At first, I'm thrown for a loop by the ease Israel has around me. We haven't talked much, but clearly, he's deemed me acceptable. Maybe it's just because of my willingness to help him tease his friend. I'm not sure that I care about the why. In the City, I didn't really have much in the way of friends, apart from Cassie. I was friendly with all of my patients, but I'm sure any of us were ever actually friends. It's a nice feeling, to have friends. And Israel seems like someone I'd want to have as a friend. "Let me tell you all about it."
"Israel, I don't know what you think you heard, but-"
"So there I was a few nights ago. Rosalie was up all night, getting rid of the last of the shit her cold left in her lungs. I just got her back to sleep when I heard-"
"Israel!" Next thing I know, Israel is stepping away from me as Atlas tries to tackle him. Israel side-steps easily, but Atlas doesn't seem to be going down without a fight. He tries to tackle Israel three more times, failing each time. Eventually, the roles reverse, and before I know what's happening, the two men are simply chasing each other around. Israel tries to continue the story every time there's a lull in the action, but he never gets more than a few words out before Atlas is back on him.
I start to laugh hysterically as they each continue to get the upper hand on the other. I don't even care about the story anymore. I'm much more interested in seeing who's going to win. They seem to be equally matched. While Israel is probably stronger, Atlas is surely faster. It's only a question of who is smarter at using their advantage. Israel stops suddenly as Atlas charges him, stepping to the side at the last moment and sticking his foot out. Atlas tries to stop himself, but his momentum keeps him going and he trips over his friend's foot. Israel catches him and wraps his arm around his neck, securely holding Atlas in a headlock.
"And what do I hear from your tent," he finally continues as Atlas tries to get out of the position. "But you moaning her name?" My laughter dies suddenly in my throat. Neither man notices my silence as Israel starts to rub his knuckles on Atlas's head. Clearly, Atlas was having a particularly enjoyable dream, but who was it about? No, scratch that. I don't care. I don't care. Then why, why does the idea of Atlas having that kind of dream about somebody else put a lump in my throat and a pain in my chest? It makes no sense. Neither of us has spoken it, but we're friends, and that's all we are.
"He was moaning whose name?" I ask quietly, and they both look at me. Atlas breaks out of the headlock and straightens himself up, brushing some dirt off of his pants. He takes a deep breath, composing himself as he runs his hands through his long hair. It's still as messy as it always is, but at least he tried. He gives me a small smile, but it doesn't ease the ache in my chest. If anything, it makes it worse.
I know we could never be anything but friends, and I'm not sure we can be that sometimes. Not when our friendship is built on lies. My lies. I'm sure he has his secrets, too, but mine would be too damaging if it ever came out. How could he be friends with someone whose sole purpose for coming to the Outside was to destroy his way of life? To destroy his people? Even if I decide not to complete my mission, the fact that it existed would be devastating.
But even if that didn't destroy our friendship, there was something else to consider. Something that might keep him from going any further. My age. Now, I don't really care about it. I'm an adult and can make my own decisions. But I don't know about him. I don't know if he would ever want to be with someone as young as me. Someone that he knew when they were a child.
But, technically, this is all a moot point. Clearly he isn't interested in me because he's fantasizing about someone else. And that shouldn't bother me. It really shouldn't. But, for some reason, it does, and I'm not sure how to deal with that. I'm feeling something similar to the emotion I felt when Cassie left, and that's leaving me all sorts of confused.
"Anyway," Atlas starts, pulling a blade of grass off of his forearm. "Is there anything else you wished to discuss with me, Israel?" The clipped tone in his voice didn't escape me. He was being far too formal, trying too hard to brush off what had just happened. It made the whole situation just a bit more awkward. It didn't escape Israel, either, and he shook his head, chuckling beneath his breath. Thankfully, he was far more relaxed and easily dissipated the awkwardness.
"A message came from Lee yesterday. They're getting antsy. They want to return to camp, but they can't until someone comes to relieve them," Israel explains, and Atlas nods.
"That really is past due, isn't it? Alright. We'll have to ask around and see who's willing to travel to the north. I have a few possibles, but I'll need to discuss it with them further," Atlas responds, looking out at the camp.
"How about we walk and talk? The job you and I are doing is going to take some time, and we want as many hours of daylight as we can get," Israel suggests, and Atlas smiles over at him.
"I think that's the only smart thing you've said today."
"It happens occasionally."
"What are you two doing?" I ask, and they look over at me as if reminding themselves that I'm there. They look back at each other, and Israel shrugs, returning his attention to me.
"Annalise needs some more meat, and since none of the animals in the paddock are ready, we're going into the woods to see what we can get from the snares. We leave the big game alone per our agreement with the gryphons, but the smaller animals are ours," Israel explains, and I nod. That makes sense. I only wonder how often they go out and check the snares. "Do you want to come with us? Three sets of hands are better than two."
"Israel, I don't know if-"
"Are you kidding? That sounds like a good time. I'm in," I say, and Israel smiles brightly, sending a wink to Atlas.
"We don't have the supplies for three people," Atlas argues, and Israel waves him away.
"I told Annalise and Gemma that I was thinking of bringing a third person along, so they gave me extra supplies to accommodate said third person," he says, leaning close to Atlas and again speaking in a voice I can't hear. Atlas keeps his face straight, but after a moment, the corners of his mouth quirk up in a smile. He chuckles softly and puts his hand on Israel's face, pushing him away. Israel laughs loudly as Atlas walks over to me.
"Well, are you ready? For once, Israel is right. We need all the daylight we can get. We've got a lot of ground to cover," he tells me, and I tell him that I'm ready. We look to see Israel already heading to the woods, and we jog to catch up with him. He stops by the tree line, pointing to the supplies he had gotten from Gemma and Annalise. We load up with everything we need, and once everyone is ready, we dive into the trees.
I'm glad that Atlas and Israel know their way through these woods, because the deeper we go, the more lost I become. Since my journey with Aubriana, I haven't stepped foot in the woods again. I haven't needed to. At least this time I have a proper set of boots, courtesy of Gemma. It's much easier to traverse the rough floor of the woods in these boots than the shoes I had inside the City.
It was a shock, the day I woke up to realize that I'd given away almost everything that tied me to the City. But, unlike the assumptions I'd made on my first day, none of the Renegades had pressured me. They hadn't ever brought it up. Every time I gave up something from inside the City, it was because I had gone to Gemma and requested the replacement. I'd asked her for the boots and handed over my shoes. I'd asked her for a canteen and given her the old bottles. And I'd asked her for stripes to put on my clothes.
Everyone else in camp has stripes, and in time, I realized my lack of them made me stick out. Even if no one said it, I felt that until I picked out those stripes, I wouldn't belong among the Renegades. It'd taken time to decide what color I wanted. I'd looked at everyone else's stripes and studied them. Israel had one red and one pink stripe that crossed over his chest. Gemma has two yellow stripes around her thighs and a brown one around her left wrist. Savannah has a red stripe on her left bicep, similar to the armband the Citizens wear. Annalise has a pink stripe around her stomach and a black one around her chest, and even little Rosalie has pink stripes in random places.
And Atlas has four purple stripes, one around each arm and leg. He's the only one with purple stripes, and I often wonder why that is. But, I suppose, it doesn't really matter. In time, I'd chosen mine. One red stripe and one yellow on each of my sleeves, and, running just above the tie on my jumpsuit, was one long stripe. A stripe that was the same blue as the sky. As of now, the only thing I have left from the City is my bag and the pictures I keep safely inside of it.
"So, who are you thinking of sending to the north?" So far, the journey has been silent. I'm almost thankful when Israel breaks it as he crouches down to inspect a snare. Atlas tilts his head as he inspects another. A few feet away, deep in the brush, I spot another and head to it. Ensnared in the trap is a rabbit. I call for Atlas, and he quickly comes over to show me how to get the animal out of and reset the snare.
"Oskar wants to go, and honestly, I'm all for it. He does his tasks well, but he's a bit... well, you know. It'll be nice to have a break from him. Aubriana also wants to go. I don't see any reason why she can't," Atlas explains as we head for the next snare. "I want to send at least one more. Between Oskar and Aubriana, I see a fight happening. And my money is on Aubriana."
"Oh, I agree. Oskar is quick to talk shit, but he's even quicker to fold once someone challenges him. Didn't Taryn want to go?" Israel asks.
"She did. But now that she knows she has a chance with Matt, she wants to stay here. Maybe Sabella will go," Atlas suggests, and Israel shrugs. I've only talked to Sabella once, so I don't know much about her. So far, all I've learned is that she was the Renegade Savannah told me about. The one that used to have a Mark on her stomach. The conversation drifts to easier things as we continue through the woods, and I'm more than willing to let the two men talk. It's more entertaining than trying to join in on the conversation.
But, eventually, my attention is pulled in another direction. In the distance is a clearing, one I haven't seen before now. It's nestled deep in the woods, but I can see something in the grass. Something that doesn't belong. Before I know what I'm doing, I'm walking towards the clearing, desperate to satisfy my curiosity. Once I'm at the clearing, it's clear what caught my attention. Scattered among the grass are wooden crosses, each one with writing burned into it. I go to the first one I see, kneeling down to get a better look at the inscription on it.
Alyssa, 3. Daughter of Idelle and Cale. There are two other crosses next to the one I saw, and my breath catches when I see the inscriptions on them. Idelle, 23. Wife of Cale. Mother of Alyssa. My hand goes to my heart when I see the next one. Cale, 25. Husband of Idelle. Father of Alyssa. I stand up and look around at all of the other crosses in the clearing. I know exactly what this place is.
It's a graveyard.
"I'd meant to show you this place. But I couldn't find a good reason to do so." I turn to see Atlas leaning against a tree on the edge of the clearing. I look between him and the graveyard, seeing the differences between the Renegade's and the City's. The graveyard in the City is deathly silent and smells completely of ash. This one is filled with the sounds of wildlife and the air smells clean, completely in balance with the nature surrounding it. But the biggest difference is in the inscriptions on the headstones.
"You don't put on there how they died," I mention, and Atlas nods curtly.
"Because how they died isn't important. What's more important is how they lived. That's why, if they had a family, we inscribe those relationships. If we didn't, we put down that they were a friend, or if they had a special role, we put that on there. That's how we want our dead to be remembered," Atlas explains, and I think back to my one time visiting the graveyard. Neither of my parent's headstones had their relationship to each other or to my sister and me. They would always be remembered for how they died, but not how they lived. And if I had stayed and surrendered myself to the Coliseum, I would have been, too.
For the first time, the thought makes me sick to my stomach.
"Do you bury them?"
"Yes. But not here. We believe in water burials. Water makes up such a huge part of the body; it seems right to return the deceased to it. The river flows east, so we place the body in it with a compass in their pockets. It's believed that the deceased's spirit will use the compass to keep heading east," Atlas tells me, and I look in the direction that I think the river is in.
"What is the Renegades' fascination with the east?"
"The sun rises in the east. It's associated with light and life and new beginnings," he says. It's not much of an explanation, but it's all I need. Even I'd been enamored by the sun- it was the only thing I remember fondly from my childhood experience in the Outside. And once I was back in the City, the sun was the only thing I missed from the Outside. And if I were to die, I would want to be set off in the direction that the sun rose from. I'd want to ride the sun and let it take me to the afterlife, whatever afterlife there may be. "Well, now you've seen it. Shall we be on our way? We still have a lot of ground to cover."
"Yeah, that sounds good. I'm not too fond of graveyards."
"No one really is." He gestures into the woods, and I follow him willingly, leaving behind the graveyard and all the Renegades memorialized there. The only other time I've been in a graveyard, I was searching for two people. This time, I have no one to search for, and I don't care to spend any more time there. We meet back up with Israel, who had just finished collecting a bird he called a grouse from a snare and resetting it.
As the day goes on and the shadows in the woods change positions, our bags become heavier with the game we've collected. I wonder how long Annalise can make this meat last, and how she stores it. Several times we have to leave something in the snare behind because, according to Israel, it had been dead too long and wouldn't be safe to eat. Part of me feels bad that the animal had lost its life for nothing, but Israel assures me that the body won't go to waste. Other animals, insects, and even plants will use it to feed themselves. It's just a part of life. It makes me feel better, but it still leaves the question of how Annalise stores the meat we collect so it doesn't go bad. I'll ask her when we get back.
Eventually, I understand the route we're taking. We're making a circle through the woods, and if I'm right, we'll end up right back where we started. With every stop, I look around the woods, taking note of our surroundings and studying intently. I want to see everything, but I still make myself useful and clean and set the snares occasionally. Israel and Atlas are much more practiced, and they make much quicker work of it than I do. We stop once to eat the lunch that Annalise packed us before we continue on our way.
It hits me like a brick wall when the mood violently shifts. I don't know what causes it, but suddenly, the air around us seems to drop several degrees. Before, there was an easy, amicable atmosphere around the three of us with plenty of jokes to be had. But that's gone now. I'm not sure why until I see Atlas rooted in place, completely silent and so tense that I immediately go on high alert. He's staring off into the distance, but whatever he sees is hidden from me.
"Why are we here?" he asks, his voice choked with emotion. He's breathing heavily, biting his cheek with such force it's a wonder he hasn't bitten a hole through it yet. Instinctively, I start to reach out for his hand, wanting to put it over my heart and calm him down, like he's done for me twice now. My hand is mere inches away when I stop myself. I'm not sure that would help the situation right now, and besides, that might be a bit too forward.
"Because someone set a snare here," Israel answers easily.
"Who set a snare here? And why?" Atlas asks, his voice going dark. I'm caught between not wanting to know what happened here and needing to know. What if whatever is hidden around here gives me some of the answers I've been searching for? What if it reveals the truth about Skye?
"You can't hide from this forever, Atlas. You'll have to face it eventually," Israel says, and Atlas whips around to him. I stare in the direction Atlas had been, and in the distance, I see something. Something that doesn't belong among the trees. There's a dark presence there, and my feet start moving without my brain telling them to do so. I head for the dark presence, the need to know far outweighing the desire not to.
"You think I want to be reminded of one of my greatest failures?"
"You couldn't have stopped it from happening, Atlas. What happened here isn't on you."
"I disagree. And I think that we should leave these snares alone and just get out of- Macy?" When Atlas finally notices I've gone on without them, I hear him loudly swear. Twigs snap and leaves rustle as he runs after me. "Macy! Get back here! Macy!" But it's too late. I push a branch out of my way, and that's when I see it. When I do, my heart sinks into my stomach.
Ruins. That's the only word I can use to describe the scene in front of me. Wooden buildings are rotting and in disrepair, most of them falling into themselves. Remnants of tents are spread out throughout the clearing, most of them only charred tent poles. Some of them still have some burnt fabric clinging to them. In the center is what used to be a firepit, burnt logs and rocks spread everywhere. There's a small cliff on one side of the clearing that makes up part of the mountain, and at the bottom lies a sizeable pile of rocks. Even some of the trees around the clearing have been completely burnt, no longer able to produce leaves and only still standing by some miracle. The grass in the clearing is the only sign of life.
My jaw drops when I realize what I'm looking at. This was the old camp. This is where I was taken when I was a child, where all of those old memories occurred. Atlas said they'd been forced to move, but I'd come to think that it was because there were too many Renegades to fit in the clearing. I had no idea that something like this was responsible for the move. As Atlas and Israel come up behind me, I only have one thought.
"What... what happened here?" I ask in a whisper, and both men sigh.
"The Vultures happened," Atlas says, and I turn to face him. There is so much emotion on his face, but the predominant one is guilt. When he raises his head to look at the ruins, I swear I see tears in his eyes. "It happened thirteen years ago. I was still fairly new to being the leader, and I'd gone into the City. I was captured and very nearly lost my life."
"How did you get out?" I want to ask what he was doing in the City in the first place and how exactly he nearly died, but neither of those seems important at the moment. Maybe I'll ask later. But for now, how he got out seems the only question pertinent to the story.
"Savannah. We were both in a bad place when we met, and she got us both out. It was only when she was nursing me back to health that she agreed to be our Doctor. But even she couldn't stop what happened next," he answers.
"And what was that?"
"While Atlas was gone, an epidemic devoured the camp. Without a proper Doctor, there was nothing and no one to stop it. By the time she got here with Atlas, all of the children but one in the camp had already died. Savannah was able to stop it from spreading, but she couldn't save anyone who had already been infected. She tried. By the sun, she tried. But in the end, fifteen people died. Nearly half of camp," Israel explains.
"Holy shit," I say under my breath. I wonder if that small family I saw in the graveyard were victims of the epidemic. But as a former Doctor, I understand the pain of trying to heal someone and failing. I'd probably want to quit being a Doctor, too.
"I had still barely begun to get my strength back when the Vultures came," Atlas mentions.
"But why?" I ask. "Why did they come then? And why do you call them the Vultures instead of the Cardinals?"
"Because they feed on death." Israel's answer is so simple that it takes my breath away. The Cardinals... they do what? Part of me doesn't want to accept it. But the other, more logical part of me understands that it makes sense. Why else would they push so hard for the Citizens to complete their Deaths? Why else would they try and glorify a public, violent end? It's because they feed on it. Everything starts to click into place, including one of the questions they had sent me out with.
"That's why they came. They're attracted to it. They're empowered by it. If too much time passes without a death in the City, they start to grow weaker. The only time they can get to us, then, is when there's the presence of death. It's why we take such care in handling our dead and choose to celebrate their life instead of mourning their death," Atlas tells me.
"That's why they can't get to you normally. Your will to live protects you from them." That's the boundary that the Cardinals can't cross. That's why they couldn't get to the Renegades on their own. That's why they needed me to do it for them. The Renegades have such a strong will to live that it keeps the Cardinals out.
"Yeah. But that time, there was so much death in the camp that even our will to live couldn't compensate. All seven of them came, and they attacked. We tried to defend ourselves, but eventually, our only option was to flee into the woods. Once we had, they set fire to the camp. They destroyed everything and made it so we could never come back," Israel explains. "That's when we moved out onto the cliff. So that next time we can see them coming."
"Is that... what happened to Savannah?" I ask, and they both sigh.
"It's not my story to tell, but... yes. She was protecting someone else, and one of the Vultures- Satanus, if I remember correctly- shot an arrow into a loose bunch of rocks on the cliff. Savannah was crushed," Israel responds. I suck in a breath, picturing Savannah in my mind. All of her injuries... she was telling me the truth. It wasn't the Renegades, and it was not an accident. I was right- the Cardinals had done it. She was crushed by rocks because of them. The broken fingers, the broken nose, the offset hip and hands, it was all because of the Cardinals.
"I've spent every day since then trying to make up for my mistake. They needed their leader, and the day it happened, Israel had to carry me out of there because I could still barely walk," Atlas says, and I hear the guilt in his voice. Is this what he's been carrying around on his shoulders? Israel was right- that's not his fault. He'd nearly died and was still healing from it. There was nothing that he could have done to prevent this from happening. But I know full well that he won't hear a word of it if I was to tell him that.
"The only silver lining was that everyone who had died was already dead for long enough that the Vultures couldn't take their souls," Israel says, and I whip around to him.
"They couldn't do what?"
"Oh, yeah, they can do that. That's why they're always at the scene every time someone dies in the City. Part of their power, especially Lucifer, is taking the souls of the deceased and trapping them in those neon headstones. Having all of those souls close by increases their power. I'm not sure exactly how it works. All I know is that what happens," Israel explains. The energy in the graveyard. Is that was that was? Souls? The voice I heard and the presence I felt, was that actually my parents? But then something else makes sense.
"That's why you destroyed the graveyard fifteen years ago. To release all of those trapped souls," I surmise, and Atlas nods, a fond smile crossing his face.
"Yeah, that was actually Skye's idea."
"Wait, what?" How could that have been Skye's idea? How were they in any position to listen to Skye? Unless... Unless...
"You... you don't know?" Atlas asks, and my eyes go wide as I stare at him.
"Are you... Are you saying that Skye was a Renegade?"
"You really don't remember," Israel breathes, and I look over at him.
"I don't remember what?" Both of the men stare at me, and I stare right back at them. Israel is the one to finally speak.
"Skye wasn't just a Renegade. She was our leader."