"Do you understand the importance of this lesson?" My father asked me. He stood there, leaning up against our beat up counter, looking to me for an answer. I avoided making eye contact with him, as I didn't see the importance of learning how our Earth was destroyed. I wasn't alive during that time period, obviously, so why should it matter now? Earth is the way it is. I don't care why. Plus I already knew. Everyone did.
When I didn't respond, he furrowed his eyebrows, "Damnit, Holden this is serious." He said it with an angry voice that was hardly intense. I didn't know how to respond. I never do. He's hardly around, and when he is, he's fixing our broken house, drinking, or sharpening his knives.
He's the blacksmith and Armory Keeper of our Outlet; Trydinte. He issues the weapons that he makes and collects, to the people within our walls, and sometimes, even travelers. He is important to our community and has a high rank in accordance to our Mayor, but not to me. The Outlets were what we called towns. They're nothing special. I don't know why we don't just call them 'towns'.
"I know." I responded with a sigh. It was the only thing I could ever say to him. I couldn't exactly tell him about wanting to leave Trydinte. He'd lock me in the basement if he had to. Everyone knows that it's dangerous out there; crazy bandits, evolved predators that could gut me within seconds, and who knows what else. Even though those are just rumors, it's what I crave: Adventure. I've been here my entire life, seen people arrive, leave, or stay. Nothing interesting happens, except our occasional riot at the bar. Not that I've ever seen one. I'm tired of sitting in here doing nothing. Knowing that there's a whole other world out there, and I'm just living in a dust spec.
My father sighed, grabbed his coat, and left. He didn't say anything on the way out, and I didn't even need to ask where he was going. Either work, or the bar. Just like always.
I walked up the set of shabby wooden stairs that ended at the beginning of a small hall, which led to my room and my father's. As I walked, the boards squeaked as if they'd give in at any moment. Once in my room, I removed the sheet metal wall, and proceeded to the exterior of our house. I then climbed up the wooden pegs that I had installed to the surface earlier this year. On my way up, I could feel the desert wind go through my hair. Since I couldn't see over the Outlet's fortification from my bedroom window, I built a way up to an area where I could get a view. I sat on the flimsy roof that I had stabilized with wood from the dump on the edge of the farm, and looked out over the horizon.
Surprisingly enough, compared to other houses, ours was pretty stable. It consisted of a kitchen downstairs, two bedrooms upstairs, one bathroom that only produced cold water, and an armchair for a living room.
I sat on the roof looking out over the town. It was small, and mostly flat except for the cliff-like hill that my father and I lived on. It had several houses built up the side, and a few on top, including ours. The barricades around us are about fifteen to twenty feet tall, so living on the hillside was the only thing that made it possible for me to see over them, even though they extended up the cliff and met behind our house. The sun was setting, and just over the walls and gates I could see the dry landscape that everyone feared except me. It was of the same biome that our town was. Mostly dry, rocky soil with patches of dead, or dying plants. I didn't see any monstrous creatures. I never have. I've had this balcony-thing built on top of my house for about a month, and I've still never seen anything but people, and about two other Outlets in the distance that I've drawn and shown to Dennis at the library.
"Holden!" Someone yelled from below, sending me hurtling out of my daydream. I looked over the edge of the roof to see Lane and Chrys looking up at me. They were my friends. I grew up with Chrys, but Lane arrived a few years ago with his parents and siblings. They bought a house just below mine, and we all started hanging out with one another. We'd parade through the town causing mischief such as chasing Anne's chickens through the streets. We work for her for a good portion of our week; looking after her cows, chickens and sheep, and occasionally helping her cook. "Come on, let's go." Lane shouted up, cupping his hands over his mouth to try to boost the sound.
"Yeah, okay. On my way down!" I yelled. I made my way down to the front door, sliding on the banister on my way down. I then grabbed my brown leather jacket of the counter, and left through the front door, locking up as I left. They were waiting for me when I got there
"Where are we going, again?" I asked them, as we marched down the steep path away from my house. One of the downsides of living on a hill is that it's a pain to get back up. That's why Chrys and I made makeshift stairs. On one of the days that I rained several years ago, we drove several slabs of wood into the ground to make the grip better. After that, we'd taken a wheelbarrow full of mud from Anne's place, and packed it around the wood hoping that it would stay. Surely enough, the next day the heat dried up the mud and ensured the permanency of our stairs.
"Anne offered to cook for us tonight. Which you would've known, if you'd have shown up today." Chrys said, giving me a sarcastic look out of the corner of her eye. I sighed, and rubbed the back of my neck. She knew how my dad could get, but he wasn't the reason I'd skipped work. She continued, "Y'know Holden, I really would like to think you were just helping your dad with something at the blacksmith..." She trailed off.
"I'll have you know, I was actually at the library. Dennis showed me a new book that a traveler left... and..." I stopped. I knew they thought my obsession with the world was... well, rather obsessive, so I just stopped. I don't know how they could stand to be stuck in here. They don't even try to be interested in what goes on outside of these walls. Aren't they just a little bit curious? Sure, when we were younger, Chrys and I would draw maps of what we thought it would look like, and we'd pretend that we were sailing vast oceans, or fighting vicious creatures, but she grew up. I didn't.
"Well. Dinner is where we're going." Lane said with a goofy smile. Dinner sounded good. An actual dinner, I mean. Not just slimy, pink spam directly from a can that made a slushy plop as it hit your plate. If you even had a plate. However Anne is an amazing cook, and no matter what she was making, I knew I'd enjoy it.
"Sounds good." I said, chuckling. We avoided silence for the rest of the walk. Then Lane brought up Chrys' crush of some sort, Drane. He was a muscular guy of average height who worked at the bar for his father. He and Chrys had only ever hung out twice, but she talks about him all the time.
"I'm just saying, if someone isn't interested in you, maybe you should look into someone who is." Lane said, pointing at himself. He just doesn't know when to stop, does he? Lane's tall, with hair that was the closest to black without being black, and olive skin. He has brown eyes that always looked mischievous. He's fairly muscular, but nothing too exciting. He's smart, though he has a serious case of immaturity. Still, I swear, even the chickens find him attractive.
"How many times have I turned you down now? Are we going on 6? I thought for sure by now that trial and error would kick in, and you'd give up." Chrys responded, sort of flipping her hair as she looked back in front of her. She is of medium height, and pale. She has dirty blonde hair that almost looked bronze, but it wasn't orange or red. I mean I guess I would call her pretty... I mean if she weren't like a sister to me. I mean... She's mildly attractive, I would say. She's thin, and seems fragile, but her words can kill. She's one of the most sophisticated people I know, besides maybe Karen and Dennis from the library.
"Okay, point made. But still, why try with a guy who hardly knows you exist?" Lane responded, shrugging. She laughed and shook her head. I just kind of stayed silent and watched them bicker.
"Okay, hey. We hung out at the bar for a while the other day. He at least knows I exist." She said, trying to prove him wrong. I couldn't help but think hanging out in a bar would be awkward. Drane knows she's too young to drink, so he must've known she came to see him. I laughed at the thought, and passed it off as laughing at her statement. Lane gave up on trying to convince her for today.
By the time we made it to the farm, the sun was down. The sky ranged from dark indigo toward the east, and intensifying to lighter blue-green to the west. The lights of the town weren't as visible in the fields, so you could see the stars glittering in the sky. We maneuvered through the barbed wire fenced in the pasture, instead of taking the front entrance. When I say pasture, I mean fenced in areas filled with dead grass and hay. Our livestock don't get much fresh grass. Bach, Anne's Australian Shepherd, barked a few times and ran over to us, particularly me because I was the one in charge of feeding him. I laughed as I patted his back. He followed us around back.
Anne greeted us at the back entrance. "Just in time!" She said, " The roast is about done now. Come on in and sit down." Anne was one of few in the town that could afford luxuries like paint for the exterior of her home, and place mats for the table. Because fresh resources are such precious materials for today's society, Anne gets quite a bit off of selling her produce to people of the town, and even travelers, whom we rarely see.
We sat down at the wooden table that had six chairs sitting around it. She pulled the roast out of the oven and put it on a heating pad on the table. The dish was incredible. The beef brisket was decorated with tomatoes and bell peppers from her garden behind the house. "The thyme and basil just finished growin', so I melted up some of Bessie's butter and soaked it with the herbs." She told us as she sat down at the far side of the table. Bessie was one of Anne's cows.
"Y'know, Anne, I hate to ask but... which one is this?" Lane said gesturing toward the steaming dish, smiling. Chrys hit him in the shoulder, hardly gently. "What?" Lane said, acting as if he didn't mention it on purpose to bug her. The question didn't seem to bother Anne, though. She answered honestly.
"Well, this time it was Harold. Unfortunately he was getting old. I figured he'd want to be some glorious entree." She giggled. Chrys furrowed her brow in concern.
"Well Chrys..." Lane intruded. I looked at him to stop before he went any further, but to no prevail, "We can't all be a perfect vegetarian like you." He smiled sweetly, but with obvious sarcasm. I waited for her to shut him down; say something clever with big words that we didn't understand. Alas, she surprised me.
"I'm not a vegetarian. We can't afford that. Nobody can." She said, looking at her plate. She looked up at us, "So are we gonna eat or what?"
Anne laughed slightly, and began dishing up our food. We sat and ate until our plates were clean, as well as the dish in the center of the table. "So where were you today, Holden? The chickens missed you." Anne addressed me. She always seemed to be supportive of my fascination, but Lane and Chrys are probably tired of hearing about it. I couldn't lie. I already told them. I opened my mouth to speak, but Chrys did instead.
"He was at the library with Dennis. They were looking at a new book together." Chrys spoke for me.
"All day?" Anne looked puzzled. It really did take all day. Considering we finished it. The book was a journal about an expedition that took place a few years ago, maybe. It had dates and times in it, which made me feel like I was part of the story. It had so many entries. We read all the way to the end and then my father, a drunken mess, found me, and took me home.
"Yeah. We uh... We finished it." I responded for myself this time. Alas, Lane spoke up and ruined my certainty.
"The book was about the outside world." He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. I'd like to think that my friends weren't completely throwing me under the bus, and that they were just worried about me, but this was indeed an intervention.
"It was a journal. So... not necessarily a book, or novel." I said, correcting him. Nobody seemed to care. I decided to take control over the conversation and steer it back to where it was supposed to be. "I could uh... come in tomorrow and work the weekend, if you want." I offered.
"No, you're good. I just won't pay you for today." She said, smiling, and tossing Lane and Chrys a bag that contained the day's worth of coins depending on how hard they worked. Another difference between Lane and Chrys. As soon as Lane got hold of the bag, he opened it up and started counting. Chrys, however, quietly put the bag into her backpack.
To me, it stands out. Lane is impulsive, and he likes to know what he has, when he has it. Chrys doesn't mind mystery. Lack of certain knowledge is welcome with open arms, until the necessary time.
"Understood." I responded. I checked the time on Anne's kitchen clock. 8:00. It was getting late, and I never told my dad where I was going. I doubt he's home by now, but if he is, he'll be pissed.
As if she read my mind, Chrys spoke up, "Thank you so much for having us, Anne. The meal was amazing, but it's getting really late. Our parents might get worried." Chrys had a mother and a father. They were both compassionate and incredibly caring. When I was little, and my father couldn't leave me on my own, he would drop me off at their house. They were completely fine with it. She and I are both the only child in our families, so we stuck together for companionship.
Lane's family is a mess. In an artistic way, I suppose, to say the least. He's the oldest of five children, and his mom is the only adult around. I met his dad, a few times. He was tired all the time, and when he wasn't asleep he was yelling or drinking. The story goes that Lane's dad spent a couple hours at the bar, downtown. The town... Prostitute, to put it kindly, asked him if he'd like some time, and he accepted. Lane's mom walked in on them, and told him to leave. So he did. Packed his bags, and left Trydinte. Since then, things have been chaos at the Framer's residence. They live below us, on the hill; one house down. Lane seems ignorant, but when it's about his family, he's a whole new person. He'd do anything for them, and I admire that.
Our families are all entirely different. They care about each other; the Framer's and the Keller's. However, my dad and I... I have no idea what's going on there. The only time we ever talk is if it's about me wanting to learn more about the outside, or about my mom. I have few memories with her. Stuff like being tucked in at age two, or refusing to eat the peas she cooked at age three. My dad says she left, but he's never said it with anger, or disappointment. He talks about her with expressions that I never see on his face. I remember the day he got the letter stating that she'd passed. That's the day everything stopped for him. As if gravity just quit working in his world. However, I like asking him about mom, because when he talks about her, he's happy. Still, I've never figured out why she left. She must've had a good reason, right? I can't help but wonder if she left because I was too much work. Kids are hard to raise. Either way it doesn't really matter now.
"Alright, well thanks for stoppin' by and keepin' me comp'ny. I appreciate it." She said with a smile. The cows and chickens were never enough for her. All they can do is listen. They can't really carry a conversation.
"Would do it again. Seriously though, Anne," Lane said, standing up and grabbing the pack off of the back of his chair, "Maybe you should give up the farming and become a cook at the bar." He laughed.
"Oh, but I'd miss all the animals, and even the plants. They are alive, too, you know." She giggled. She really was in touch with her garden. Most of the time we see her out there, trimming the dead ends off of the tomato plants, pulling up onions and potatoes, or watering the melons. I think it's her favorite part of the day. She never has us work in the garden; we've always taken care of the animals, from day one.
The walk home seemed to be longer than the way there. I guess when you have people to talk to, it distracts you from the fact that your legs are burning, and you're wishing you were home. Lane stayed back to use the coins he earned from today to buy some food for his family. He wasn't embarrassed about it. I remember him telling me that if he didn't have such a big family, things wouldn't be as hard. He'd be financially stable, and he wouldn't be hungry as much. Then he said, "But I wouldn't trade it for the world on a silver platter." He was proud.
Chrys walked with me for a bit, but she had to turn down the road that led to the schoolhouse. Her family lives down that way. We haven't gone to school since grade eight. That's all that was required by our outlet. After that, education was optional, and most opportunities involved apprenticeships as a blacksmith, welder or construction engineer, or internships at the courthouse.
I walked across the intersection where the library, the bar, the market, and the Mayor's office/courthouse met. In our outlet, we don't have street torches, so it was dark. The only source of light was the moon and the stars. I read in a book that stars can be different colors. The bigger ones are usually less hot, and colored red or orange. The smaller ones are the hottest, and they're white or even blue. Yet, all of them that I can see from here are white. I read that it's because of distance. The closest star to us is the sun, and it's still years and years away from us.
"Hey, Holden." Someone said. I looked around. It was coming from the front steps of the library. Dennis was outside smoking a cigarette.
"Oh hey Dennis. I thought you gave those up." I said. Not that it's that important. I didn't care much for others choices.
"No, son. That's just what I told ya. I figured it best if ya didn't know 'til now." He puffed. Why did he tell me he quit then? It doesn't bother me. Why'd he feel like he had to hide it?
"Why until now?" I questioned, sitting down beside him. I figured it's because I was older now, but that didn't make much sense seeing as how I've been 18 for half a year now.
"Well, I suppose it wasn't just you. Karen didn't want me smokin' inside, so I moved out back, few years ago. Once you asked me if I was still doin' it cause you hadn't seen me in awhile... ya just had this look that was hopeful. I mean we all know it's bad for me, but..." He rambled.
"Dennis... It's fine. I really don't mind." I reassured him. He always felt like he'd never given me enough. He's more of a father than my actual father is, and Karen, my mother. They have been, for a good six or seven years. When Karen and Dennis first turned half of their large home into the library, I was too intrigued to ignore it. I was one of their first customers. I'd come daily to check out books, and eventually Dennis and I found thing in common with one another. He always said that if he hadn't married Karen, he probably would've left the Outlet.
"Well, kiddo. It's pretty late. Don't want your dad mad at me anymore 'n he is now." He responded after a few moments of silence. I really wish my dad didn't blame him for my ambitions. Dad told me, "He ignites something in you that is pushing you to leave."
"Alright. Maybe I'll see you tomorrow then?" I said, standing up and making my way down the shabby brick steps. The center of town had the best buildings, like the Mayor's office. It was sturdy, and clean, unlike most houses. Jan did do a good job of sharing his wealth with the town, though. He's a good Mayor, for the most part.
Dennis nodded and sent me on my way. The hill wasn't far from the intersection in town. I continued straight until I came to the clearing in front of the path, where Chrys and I built a clubhouse when we were ten. Of course, we haven't used it in years, so it's really beat up. It hasn't caught my attention for a while. Nowadays, it's just a pile of junk that slightly resembles a house, but not then. It used to be glorious. The kids in the village always wanted to join us, but we wouldn't let them. I don't think we continued to use it when Lane got here. I don't even know if he knows it exists.
I proceeded up the hill, to my house, and unlocked the door using the key under the doormat. "I'm home. Sorry I'm so late..." I turned after shutting the door, "Anne invited us -- " I stopped. There was a note on the counter. I walked over and picked it up.
Holden,
I haven't been completely honest with you, and I'm not about to make excuses for myself in attempt to make things easier, because, quite frankly, there's no easy way to tell you this. I haven't been honest about things. Things regarding your mother. She had the same wants that you have; the same longing for adventure, I mean. She used to spend hours at the Library with Karen, before it was a library. It always made me nervous how excited she was about the area outside of Trydinte. When you were little, an opportunity arose. You see, she was a nurse, and an Outlet called Kingston had burned to the ground not too many miles from our home. So she left with a group of others, in attempt to help. She had every intention to come back, but she never did. After years of wondering for her safety, I assumed that she was dead. So that's what I told you. I can't believe I told you that, Holden, but I did.
Yesterday afternoon, I received a letter. It was given to me by our Mayor, addressed to me, from the Mayor of a nearby Outlet. The letter states that a scout of theirs reported evidence that your mother is still alive.
I hope that you'll be able to forgive me. By the time you read this, I will have gone to look for her. I have given you as little information as possible in attempt to keep you safe. Here.
It's been 14 years since I have heard anything regarding your mom. I thought she was dead, Holden. I really did. But now, evidence suggests otherwise, and though it's just a little, I have to go on it. If you care at all... please...
Don't come looking.
-Dad
I stood there. Glued to the floor. I re-read the note three times, but struggled to analyze it. My father lied to me. He told me that he knew she was dead. That he knew! I spent ten years of my life believing that my mother left me, and died for nothing! He let me believe that she was a monster that left him, rotting in alcohol soaked clothes, and deteriorating houses and bars in which he spent his time fixing things because he was too sorry to fix what he'd done to me. To her. If he thinks he can find her, he's got another thing coming. He doesn't have the skill to find her; the knowledge to guide himself to her. I do. If he thinks that I'm just going to stay here, all by myself, enjoying my time feeding goats and pigs, eating spam, and being chastised by my friends who don't really see me. He's wrong. I know what I've got to do.
I marched upstairs and grabbed a pack off of my bed. I dug through the maps and books that I had checked out from Dennis, and took one that read, "Map of Kingston and Surrounding Area." I folded it up, and slipped it into an outside pocket. After that, I ran downstairs stuffed around 15 cans of Spam into the pack, and topped it off with two bottles of water. I rushed upstairs and shoved the entirety of last weeks income from Anne's into the bag along with my pocket knife, and a small handgun that I had found in my dad's room a few years back.
I left the house with my pack, and an attached sleeping bag. I didn't bother to lock the door. I might as well mark "For Sale" on it.
***
Once on Lane's balcony, I knocked on the shabby glass-windowed door, focusing on the hazy light of a lantern in the corner of the room. About ten seconds later, the door frantically opened. "Holden! Dude, what the hell are you doing here? My siblings are all sleeping!" Lane whisper-yelled. I peered inside and saw the many bunk beds lining the wall of the room. I gestured for him to come outside, and he did, gently shutting the door behind him.
"My dad lied, my mom's alive, and he left to look for her, so I'm leaving to follow him." I said, spewing the story out faster than I should have. He just kind of looked at me like I had eaten some fermented berries. "Come with me." I said. He was my friend, whether he understood or not. He leaned back on the railing of the balcony and sighed.
"Man, I think it's great that your mom's alive... And I think you should do what you've wanted to, dude... but... I can't go with you. I've got stuff to do here, man. I can't leave 'em like dad did." He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.
"Oh, shit. I didn't even think. No, I couldn't expect you to do that. It's okay." I responded, feeling immediately guilty for asking him to go. His siblings counted on him. His mom worked a lot, so did he, and his younger sister, the second oldest, watched over the toddlers and baby while they were out. It was mainly him. They needed him.
"I'm sorry. I want to help you with this, I really do, but I'm stuck here. I wish you the best of luck, Holden." He said, genuinely. A long pause fell between us, "Where you headed now?" He finally sighed.
Chrys. She was too important to leave behind. "I'm going to Chrys's." I responded with determination. I know she'll come if I say the right things.
"I'll go with you. I want to hear more about this." He laughed, and shook his head. The whole situation was pretty unbelievable.
***
"So what...? We just throw pebbles at her window 'til she answers?" Lane said, snickering at how dumb the idea sounded.
"I like how you said that as if it's something you've never done before..." I laughed, and threw a rock at Chrys's lit up window. Lane pouted off to the side like his ice cream just melted.
She opened the window, and looked down at us with disbelief. The look on her face said that she wasn't humored. "You guys are literally the most immature people on our hemisphere," She laughed, "What's up?"
"Well, Holden's daddy issues got a little severe considering the fact that his dad lied about his mom being dead, then left the outlet to look for her, and so now he's going after them, and he invited me but I couldn't come so now, it's up to you!" He smiled sarcastically, and put both his hands on his hips. I glared at him. There goes my chance to make things sound better than they actually were.
She looked at me, concerned, "You've gotta be kidding me, right?" She said, with hope. Her face soon fell as she realized that I'm telling the truth.
"I have the note my dad left me. You can read it if you want," I paused, trying to find the right words, "But Chrys –"
"Holden..." She said, "You can't leave. It's just too... You can't go out there... I mean, do you even have a plan? Supplies?"
I looked at her with as much hope as I could possibly put into a facial expression, "The note says Kingston is where she originally went. I say we go there. I have maps of the surrounding area, and how to get there. I have food, water, weapons, and everything! I know we can get there, but I need your help. We used to dream of exploring out there! Now's our chance!" I begged her. When we were young, we'd talked about this. Going to a nearby Outlet, meeting new people, and discovering new things. As she got older, she cared less about adventure and more about staying safe, and working, and responsibility.
She sighed, looking at me with kind, but disappointed eyes, "Holden, I know. I know we used to dream, but that's exactly what they were. Dreams. It's crazy to think that we could make it out there. You know how terrifying it is." She was genuinely worried, but she was wrong.
"Chrys, nobody knows. It can't be knowingly terrifying if nobody knows what it's like." I needed her to come. I needed her.
"Because nobody lives to tell the tale, Holden!" She raised her voice, throwing her hands in the air. It surprised me. She'd never really acted angry towards me. It finally struck me that she was just as desperate for me to stay, as I was for her to leave with me.
I paused, struggling to find words; stumbling over finding the right thing to say. Finally, I spoke up, "I understand... Why you don't want to come, but I don't know if I can do this without you; without someone."
"Then don't do it, Holden. Just stay here, and hope that they come back together. You don't have experience. You need someone with expertise." She said, trying to convince me.
I heard crunching from behind me; the sound of footsteps hitting the dry, hard ground beneath us. I turned to face Dennis, standing three feet away from me, carrying a large hiking pack, "You may not have expertise, but I do." He said, proudly.
How did he know? Who told him? Did he see me leave home? "How did you--?" I asked.
"I saw your dad leave. I asked him where he was going, and he told me the story. I knew you'd be leaving soon after. I know I can't stop you, so I'm coming with you. Will Chrys be joining us?" Dennis replied without letting me finish my sentence.
I looked at him, and then looked up at Chrys. I needed one last thing to sway her, "What do you have here?" I said, "How long before you waste away within these walls, without knowing what's out there? I'd rather die knowing that I was brave, and that I did something with my life, than die knowing that I decided to take a weak route; a scared route. I know you're scared, but we can do this together. No offense, Lane." I said, serious until the last bit. Lane nodded and shook his head, chuckling.
Chrys sighed, looked down, and thought for a minute, then said, "Give me five minutes." She then closed her window, and we waited.
Dennis approached me, "Kingston, huh?" he stood silently, puzzled, then continued, "What happens when we get there?"
"In my dad's note, he said they had scouts there. We've read about scouts. I say we talk to the leader, and see if he can direct us to the scout that saw my mom. After that, we talk to him. See what he knows." I responded. I didn't know if my plan would work, but it's all I've got for now.
"Any idea where we'll be staying?" Chrys said, walking out of her back door. When we didn't respond, she said, "My parents are asleep... I left them a note saying that I'd be back soon. I hope that's true." She looked down at her feet.
I touched her shoulder, "We'll get you back," I said, "I promise." She looked at me and nodded. "As for where we're going to stay, I'm not sure. First we gotta get past the gate though."
As we made our way through town, toward the front gate, everyone was solemn. Lane remained with us; he planned on going home after we left.
We came to the hotel that was across from the main gates. It was here for travelers who came in and out of Trydinte. As I peeked around the corner, I could see two guards on ground level, and two guards in the towers on opposite side of the gates. I turned around to face Dennis, Lane, and Chrys. "They'll know it's me. They all know my dad, so they'll know to keep me here. How're we supposed to get out of here?" I asked Dennis.
He pointed to the man in the left tower, "You see him? The bald guy up there? That's Benson Grieves. He's my cousin." He paused. Then pointed to a Hispanic looking woman with a horse drawn cart toward the right side of the stables, "And that is Cornelia. She's a trader that lives in Kingston. I've purchased books from her before, and she stayed at our house because the Inn was too much. She became close with Karen, and said whenever she could repay me, she would. I think now's the time." He looked from Cornelia to Benson, and the back to me.
"I don't follow," I responded. Chrys nodded in agreement.
"Cornelia owes me. I go inside and buy capes with hoods so the guards don't see you two, and Benson ensures that we make it through without trouble." He responded, and then walked around the corner. He then waved to Cornelia, and proceeded into a shop to the right of us. We waited for him to return.
He walked out of the shop with Cornelia, and two capes, both being dark grey. Chrys and I threw them on over our clothes, and buttoned the top part so that we could put the hoods on.
"Alright, are we ready to go?" Cornelia said, looking at us up and down.
I turned and looked at Chrys and Lane, and frowned a little, "Yeah... I think so." I responded.
Lane walked up to me, and pulled me into a manly hug in which began with a handshake. Being guys, we hardly show affection for one another, so it caught me off guard. He pulled away and said, "Good luck man. I mean it." He said, and then turned to Chrys. He let out a sigh, and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, "Guess you never fell for me, huh." He said with a laugh.
She hugged him, and said, "Maybe when I get back."
And with that, we waved goodbye, and headed toward the wagon. Cornelia said we could just sit in the back along with her supplies and our bags. Dennis sat up front with her, and we began moving toward the gate. Trydinte security wasn't as bad as Kingston's, so they still required checks of luggage when people came in, but for people who were leaving – They didn't care too much. I looked up and saw Benson nod at Dennis as the gates opened.
I couldn't help but think about Chrys. Her parents would wake up in the morning, and they'd wait for her to wake up, but soon realize she's not there. They'd read her note, and what would they do? Would they curse my name; blame me for convincing their daughter to leave? I promised that I'd get her back, but what if it was wrong of me to bring her in the first place? Either way, I'll get her back. I swear it, I will.
In the chaos of our journey out of Trydinte, I forgot how much of a big deal this was for me. I've been dreaming about this moment since I was old enough to read, and now that it was actually happening it just seemed so insignificant. I doubt Chrys thought the same thing, because as our wagon began moving closer to the outside, her eyes got wider. They darted around, as she didn't know where to look. I touched her arm, and she looked at me. I smiled at her, and held my arms open, gesturing to the world around us. She seemed calmer as we got far enough outside our outlet to feel the cool desert wind. The land around us was dark, as so was the sky. Gentle hills rolled as far as I could see. There were no trees, only rock, and dead grass, but it was still beautiful. The moon continued to gleam above us, allowing us the only light we had.