I can't believe what my eyes are seeing. I stand in the Eastern Society with Arlo by my side. I'm gaping at the view, but Arlo doesn't even seem to notice it. The grass is impossibly green and flowers decorate every available surface. In the North everything was so crowded, but here everything is spaced out and even. The beauty is breathtaking in more ways than one. Its outer beauty stalled my breath, but its inner cruelty completely took my breath away and not in a good way. Adults mill around chatting with each other, laughing as if what they are doing is completely normal. Almost every adult has a leash and connected to that leash is a child. Even from across the city I can see their glowing, emerald eyes. My hand finds Arlo's shoulder for stability as my feet start to sway. The adults occasionally stop their conversations to bark orders at the child cowering at the end of their leash. Each emerald-eyed child is skinny beyond belief and dirty stains decorate their faces and clothes. Where everything else is beyond clean and pretty, the unnatural green-eyed children are just the opposite.
"There's so many of them," I whisper. I thought there would be only a few, never would I have thought of this number. There are over a hundred people walking in the city today and more than half have an ungifted child on a leash.
One adult yanks particularly hard on the leash, choking the child. I take a step forward, but Arlo stops me. "We have to be careful, we can't save everyone."
"So what do we do?" I watch the people in the crowd and several mishandle the ungifted children. They slap their faces and pull at their hair and yank on their leashes. A few extremely cruel individuals replaced leather leashes with metal chains. "We have to help them," I tell him.
"We wait and watch. If there's an execution today, it could provide a useful distraction."
"Did you really just spin an execution to benefit you?"
"I never waste an opportunity." Arlo's voice is remote and I wish to hear some type of emotion-anger, sadness, guilt-anything to prove that he's capable of feeling something.
Arlo drags me behind a city building and we fade into the dark alley. My eyes are covered by sunglasses and I'm covered head to toe in black. The only thing visible from the alley is my ivory skin. Arlo is dressed very similar to me-all black and sunglasses. He covers his icy blond hair with a black hat. When he knocked on my door this morning wearing that beanie I remarked that he should wear hats more often. He didn't like that very much, but I was simply stating that they framed his face very well. When I said that, his frown deepened even more.
With the black shadows covering us, I almost feel invisible. I try to imagine myself as a veil-how wondrous it must be to have a gift. I think people don't appreciate their gifts as much as they should. I also think that if I could choose what kind of gift I could have, I would choose the gift of flight. I've always been a little envious of racers and their ability to fly. In the palace I would watch them as they soared, effortlessly in the sky, and they always looked so free. I've convinced myself that flying must be a sort of freedom unattainable by those bound to land.
A tap on my shoulder has me shoving any thoughts of flight out of my head. I look at Arlo who is gesturing for me to be quiet and follow him. All my life I have followed people, so it comes naturally to me now. I slip alongside Arlo as we make our way deeper into the cities. The alley provides perfect cover and we make it to the heart of the city unnoticed.
A huge crowd gathers around something, but I'm not sure what. If I have to guess, I'd say today is an execution day. To check my guess, I ask Arlo. "Yes," he says. "It looks to be a public execution."
"A perfect distraction," I say, morbidly. Arlo nods and points to a few children standing off the edge of the crowd. The Ungifted, they all look away, while the adults search eagerly for a glimpse of murder and death. Do some people deserve to die? Yes. Do some people deserve a humiliating public execution? Yes. Should public executions be practiced? No.
I take the dagger Tulsa gave me earlier today out of my ankle sheath. When she handed it to me, I immediately cowered away from it and refused to carry it. She said, "you need it to protect yourself and more importantly, to protect others." I decided to set aside my fear and take the knife from her. Now I hold it, my hands slightly shaking. I look to Arlo, who is searching every face of every ungifted child. His eyes settle on a young boy around twelve years old. He cocks his chin towards the child, "that's our target." I look to see if he'll point out more children, but he doesn't. "We're only taking one?" I ask, incredulous.
"That is the mission."
"So we save one kid and leave the rest here to suffer?" I can't do that.
"We can't save everyone. I was told to extract this kid and that's what we're going to do."
"There's two of us, we can save two children." Anything is better than just taking one child, especially when we could've taken more.
"We can't jeopardize the mission."
"What kind of mission is saving only one child?" I almost forget to whisper and barely stop myself from shouting.
"Look, I don't like it any more than you do, but I have to follow orders."
"Why him? Who decides who gets to be saved and who gets to stay and suffer?"
"I don't know. All I know is that this kid is important and he is the reason I'm here. You said you wouldn't be a distraction, so stop being one."
I huff, annoyed he won't event try to help more than just one child. "So what's the plan?" Arlo thinks for a long time, "When the executions are full swing, we cut the leash and lead him away as quickly as possible."
"That's it?" Somehow I felt like it would be more complicated.
"No, that's not it. Sneaking away will be difficult. We will have seconds before that child's owner realizes he's escaped. We have to grab him, quick, and run as fast as possible. I have an escape route planned so follow me and don't fall behind."
"I won't fall behind. How will we know when the executions are in full swing?" From our vantage point, there are too many people blocking the view, so we won't be able to actually see the execution.
"The crowd will tell us." His answer is strange, but I trust that he knows what he's doing. "So, what exactly will I do?" Arlo looks down at me, "If I can't get a clear shot at the boy, I will need you to provide a bigger distraction. Pay attention to me because I will gesture for you if I need you."
"What kind of distraction?"
"I don't know, bump into someone, ask the owner a question, think of something that will work." Arlo is clearly frustrated. I hold my hands up in surrender mode. Arlo grabs my left hand and tugs it down, "will you put that away."
"Why? Don't I need it?"
"Are you being attacked?" He asks me.
"No."
"Then you don't need it." I put my knife back in its sheath and rub my hands together. Arlo looks down, noticing my behavior. "Nervous?" I look at him, wishing I could see his eyes, "yes." In a gesture so unlike him, Arlo puts a hand over mine. "Don't be, there is no room in this revolution for nerves." His words are sharp, the complete opposite of his gentle touch. I lower my hands and place them behind my back. Arlo looks down at me, but says nothing.
Suddenly cheers from the crowd erupt and Arlo's head snaps up. "It's time, be ready." I nod and Arlo walks away from me. He gently taps on a women's shoulder and she steps aside for him. He does this until he reaches the target. The child stands as far from his owner as possible. I watch as Arlo leans down and starts messing with his shoe. His head tilts toward the kid and he's saying something to him. I watch Arlo closely, waiting for a signal. The child next to Arlo shakes his head and Arlo's head drops. He then looks in my direction and I take that as my signal.
I try not to be nervous, but I can't control my emotions like Arlo. When I make my way through the crowd, my ears start to ring. The cheers from the crowd are deafening and I resist the urge to cover my ears. When I get to Arlo I tap his shoulder. He stands and I lean towards him on my tiptoes. I lift my mouth to his ear, "distract her." Her being the child's owner. Arlo nods his head and turns to the lady. When she is fully engaged in a conversation with Arlo, I crouch down in front of the boy. I remove my glasses and place them on the top of my head. I look the child directly in the eyes and he gasps, "your eyes..."
"Are kind of like yours aren't they?" I say to the boy.
"They're gold. Mine are green" He says pointing out the obvious difference. "Yes, but the colors are very unnatural, don't you think?" He bobs his head in agreement. "You know; we can take you away from here to a safe place." The boy points up to Arlo, "That's what he said."
"He's telling the truth. I know he looks scary, but trust me, he's not. You know I have a friend who has the same eyes as you and you want to know how old he is?" I don't have time to wait for his answer. "He's eighteen."
The boy immediately shakes his head, "We're killed before we reach that age."
My heart aches for this boy and every child like him. "People like us aren't killed where we're from. Come with us and you will have an eighteenth birthday. No one will hurt you, I promise." I take his hand with my right hand, "What do you say?" I ask as my left hand goes to my ankle.
The child looks up at his owner and down at me, "She'll hurt me if I try to leave her."
My hand finds my dagger and I slowly remove it. "We won't let her."
After what feels like an eternity the kid agrees to come with me. I lift my arm and start cutting the leash off from around his neck, "stay still," I tell him. He does as I say and once he's free, we're maneuvering our way out of the crowd. The second we escape the crowd we dash, hand in hand, across the field. I look behind me to see Arlo following us. I start to smile, but I stop when I see the mass of people chasing him. I watch as a few people take to the sky, flying faster than they can run. I try to swallow the fear down and look around me. I have no idea where to go. I start to panic and my steps falter.
Hands coming from behind me lift me up, "What did I say? No falling behind. Now, run faster before we get trampled." Relief surges through me as Arlo takes the lead.
I pump my legs faster and follow every turn Arlo makes. We climb over fences, dodges between houses, and speed through alleys. My legs strain with the exercise and I take a breather. The strong winds make my hair whip across my face. I look behind me and sag with relief when I don't see anyone. I look down at the kid, who is gasping for air. I was scared he wouldn't be able to keep up, but he held his own.
"I think we've lost them." Arlo says clearly. I look over at him and he doesn't even seem winded.
"Does that mean we can stop running?" I ask, panting.
"Yes, but we have to keep walking." I'm thankful that we are far enough from the East that we no longer have to run, so I don't argue as I settle into a slow walk. Now that we aren't running for our lives, I look down to the boy and try to say something to break the silence. I remember how friendly Winn was when we first met and try to copy him. I form my lips into a wide smile and ask for the young boy's name. "Nome," he squeaks.
"It's nice to meet you, I'm Arie." I even hold out a hand for him to shake, which he does. "What's with the smile?" Arlo randomly asks me. I take my eyes off of Nome to look at Arlo. He regards me with his usual blank stare and frowning lips.
"What do you mean? I was just trying to be friendly." My hand flies to my lips, have I done something wrong?
"Nothing, it's just that you never smile."
Surprised, I say, "I smile all the time." Arlo shakes his head, "Please, you smile just as much as I do."
"You never smile," I say warily. "My point exactly." I turn away from him without another word. I glance down at Nome, who is limping ahead silently.
"You look hurt," I tell him. "Would you like me to carry you?" Nome looks up at me with wide eyes, making him look like a kicked puppy.
"You wouldn't mind?" He asks. "Not at all," I say as I open my arms. He leaps into them and I settle him on my hip.
"I can carry him, if you'd like." I look at Arlo but I refuse his offer.
"I can carry him," I say. He starts to shake his head, but I stop him. "I may not be strong in the traditional sense, but I am most certainly not weak."
Arlo looks at me with that guarded expression of his and says, "I'm starting to see that." Sometime during our run his glasses must have fallen off. I squirm under his gaze and look away. I grab my glasses and push them on the top of my head.
I may not be weak, but after walking twenty minutes with this added weight, I get real tired. I finally give in and hand Nome to Arlo. He shifts the child in his arms and Nome falls fast asleep in minutes. Maybe I was wrong about this child's age. Sleeping makes him look a lot younger than twelve.
"What's going to happen to him when we get back?" I ask.
"I don't know. Usually kids are sent to stay with the Caretakers, but I have a feeling he's special."
"How so?"
"Earlier, you said we should take more than one child and usually we do, but this mission was different. I was specifically told to only take one child. They showed me a picture of Nome and stressed how important it was to focus solely on him."
Scared that somehow being special is a bad thing, I ask, "Will they hurt him?"
"What? No." Arlo sounds so sure about his answer, but his words don't ease my worry.
I fix him with a steady glare, "I told him we wouldn't hurt him. Don't make me a liar."
This time when Arlo looks at me, his guarded expression slips, letting a little emotion show through. "I promise; I will do everything I can to keep him safe. I know you don't trust words, but trust me." His eyes are soft, but harden a second later, as if he just remembered to hide his emotions away.
"Why do you do that?" I ask, too curious not to.
"Do what?" he asks cautiously.
"Guard yourself from feeling anything?" It's like he won't let himself care for this little boy. He says he will protect him, but how far will he go to keep him safe if he doesn't care about him?
"Feelings can get you killed," his voice is steady and without remorse.
"You cannot live life without caring," I say.
Nome snuggles closer to Arlo, murmuring in his sleep. "I care," is all he says. "About what?" I ask, doubtful he actually has an answer.
"About this cause. I don't risk my life for nothing."
Hmmm. "How did you get started here anyways?"
Arlo looks at me with a scowl, "they found me and took me in." His words are angry and sets his ruby eyes blazing. They hold a fire that not even water can extinguish.
"You don't sound happy about that," I say. Arlo shakes his end, ending the conversation. I try to ask more questions, but he shuts all of them down. It's not long after our conversation that we end up at the abandoned subway that leads to the underground tunnels.
When we start to enter the tunnels, Nome wakes up. He yawns and looks at Arlo, "I can walk now." Arlo sets him down and he asks, "Where are we?"
"We are going to meet with other Ungifteds. We live down here and-"
"In the tunnels?" Nome asks, interrupting Arlo. "Yes, in the tunnels." He looks at me, "You live down here to?"
"I actually just got here," I say. We walk and talk at the same time, which makes me lose focus on my footing. I hit a rock and stumble.
"Watch where you step!" Arlo reprimands.
Nome grabs my arm to stop me from falling on my face. "Thanks," I say. "No problem," he says as he lets go of me.
There are no lights in the tunnels, so everything is dim, the only light provided is the sun-which we are losing every step we take further into the tunnels. "It will get darker so you have to be careful. Just grab onto my shirt and keep walking forward. Soon we'll get closer to the others and there will be lights." I listen to Arlo and grab onto Nome's shirt and Nome grabs onto Arlo.
"What's going to happen to me when we get there?" Nome's high voice echoes in the darkness. Arlo's deep voice answers the echoes, "I'm not sure, but you will not be treated like you were in the Eastern Society. You're not a slave anymore." Nome rubs his neck, where his leash left a dark bruise. "Why are your eyes red?"
"I'm from the Southern Society. Ungifteds born in the South have red eyes."
"What about you? I get red symbolizes fire for the South, but gold?"
"I'm from the North," I say as an answer.
"So shouldn't your eyes be like blue or something?" I shrug because I don't really have an answer for him. Nome stays quiet, waiting for an answer so I throw out some theories. "Gifteds have blue eyes, maybe Gifteds and Ungifteds cannot share eye colors. Or maybe blue is just too natural a color."
"Ungifteds are known for their unnatural eyes," Arlo says. I start to respond, but a snap in the distance freezes my whole body. "Tell me I'm the only one who heard that?" I whisper. "You're not," a voice screeches in my ears.
I scream and turn away from the new voice. "It's a Veil!" I shout. We may be hidden in the shadows, but there's still some light left from the sun. I can see the outlines of Nome and Arlo, but not the person who has joined us.
The Veil wraps his hand around my hair and pulls. My head is ripped backwards and I scream from pain. "Arie!" Arlo shouts, saying my name for the first time. "Grab Nome and run!" I tell him. I let go of Nome and run from them. The Veil still has me in his grasp so he stumbles along with me.
"Not without you!" Arlo shouts back at me. "Don't be stupid." I grab onto the Veil; whose grip tightens on my hair. "They want the boy, not me." The Veil tries to get free from my grip, but I clamp down on his arms tightly. I twist my body around and the Veil loses his balance, sending both of us tumbling to the ground. I hold onto what looks like air, but feels like two scrawny arms.
Suddenly the Veil uses strength I didn't know he had and flips us over so he's on top of me. He growls angrily and nasty breath is puffed in my face. I twist my head to the side when hear scuffling in the background-there has to be more than one attacker.
"Leave the boys, we have who we want," says the Veil on top of me.
My eyes widen, his words falsifying what I just told Arlo. They don't want Nome, they want me. "Who do you work for?" I ask as I struggle to get free. He doesn't answer me, instead he pulls my body up and slams me down on the ground with such force I see stars. He does it again and my head slams on the ground so hard I start to lose consciousness. Why can't I go outside without being kidnapped? Is it sad that that's my last though before I blackout completely?