Untitled - Chapter 2 - The Outsiders - Seg.3

{segment 3 of chapter 2 - Avalia}1

Two days of following Sasher across the plains has lead us close to the City. We’re perhaps only ten kilometres from the wall. My Father seems almost insane with excitement. Perhaps he is losing his sanity in his old age. I wonder why I was born so late in his life. He’s 68, so… what’s 68 take 18? So he was 50 when I was born? That’s so old for having children. And what about my mother? He tells me so little of her.2

We stop to rest and eat our daily rations right where we are. This place is as good as any; there are just plains for such a long way. I can’t be bothered eating now. I feel sick, so I’ll save today’s ration for tomorrow when I’ll doubtless be starving.3

I look over at the twins. They are two middle-aged, muscular women who have hated each other since I can remember. Today they look particularly irritable; eyeing each other venomously as they eat. My eyes sweep my surroundings until they stop on Sasher. He’s looking at me in that unsettling way again. Realising that I’m looking back at him, he starts to smile, but we lose eye contact as one of the twins leaps at the other. They scratch and claw at each other furiously until two of the men pull them off each other. The attacker spits at the other and I turn away. These people are so… 4

“Look!” my father’s raspy voice tries to shout. I look up like everyone else. “The wall is opening! The wall of the City is opening!”5

I stand up slowly. “You’re… right.” We all watch in revered silence as the far off wall opens up. A strange craft drifts out and the door closes. No one says anything. We watch for a long time as the hulking black shape gathers speed along the plains. It flies faster and faster, making the grey dust come up in small plumes beneath it and in its wake despite the fact that it doesn’t touch the ground. It’s running almost adjacent to our route to the mountains. As it crosses our path only three kilometres away and suddenly makes a sharp turn. I swear I see something pushed off of it as it turns, and it speeds back the way it came.6

My father exclaims and takes a feeble step for the ship as it heads back to the City. What was the point in that, I wonder. It came out here, turned around, and now it’s leaving.7

But then I see. Something really was thrown off the craft. Amid a swirling cloud of grey dust, a figure stumbles to its feet. I squint at it. From here it looks like a man, but I can’t be sure from here. The person, whatever gender, moves through the dust and kicks something in our direction. The figure continues in our direction, kicking the thing in front of it. It holds its arms above its head in friendly greeting. By the look of it, he is a male. We all look to Sasher. He looks to us. 8

“What’s an Insider doing out here?” I ask. “And why was he dumped here? It didn’t look like they were gentle with him, so he mustn’t be on their side. Do you think this is a new sort of punishment they have for their criminals? Dump them out here?”9

“Maybe,” Sasher frowns. “But they don’t have criminals. They already have everything.”10

His stubborn belief of what we’ve always believed annoys me. “Maybe things aren’t as peaceful in the City as we think,” I say. “Things can change even when hidden behind a wall.”11

No one says anything. They’re used to my saying such solemn things after all these years.12

“He doesn’t seem like a criminal,” one of the twins mutters.13

“Oh, and you can tell that from here?” I ask. How can you judge a person from one sight, let alone a sight from three kilometres away?"14

The woman scowls. “I can see his body language. He raised his arms in greeting, but if he were a criminal getting punished, or even an Insider at all, he wouldn’t be so friendly. I would expect him to have run away the moment he saw us.”15

I blink and look back at the approaching man, gradually walking toward us. I’m surprised. The woman is right. Violent as they are, I should remember these people still have brains like any other person. I’m humbled. “You’re right. Any Insider would run from us. So, what? Does that mean he’s an Outsider?”16

Sasher stirs. “I don’t know. But it seems safe to speak with him. Even if he’s really an enemy and decides to attack us he’s not going to beat all of us. We should be cautious though. Come on,” he decides and shoulders his pack, heading in the direction of the stranger. One by one we follow.17

“Maybe he can get us into the City,” father whispers to me excitedly. I don’t answer.18

Gradually we cover the ground between us and the stranger. I walk to the head of the pack so I can see him clearer. Soon I can see he clothes. They’re tattered and dirty like our clothes. But he doesn’t look weak or hungry like us either. In fact he looks quite strong and healthy, so it crosses my mind that he might be an Insider pretending to be one of us for some reason. His palm will clear that up for us; it’s said that all Insiders have a symbol marked on one of their hands so that they know if you’re an outsider or not. It’s pretty stupid if you ask me. If you need a mark to know the difference between us, then we can’t be all that different in the first place. Now, can we? 19

We walk for a while. It’s weird being face-to-face with a stranger but not being able to say something. If anything, politely avoiding eye-contact is awkward. Soon we’re only a hundred metres apart and I can make out this man’s features. He has short light brown hair and greyish eyes. The thing he’s kicking in front of him is his pack because his hands are chained together in front of him. He certainly looks like a criminal to me. But he seems quite casual and not at all worried about meeting us. He can’t be an insider. He holds up his hands as if reading my thoughts, showing both his palms. 20

So he is one of us.21

Instantly the tension in the air lessens. He kicks his bag again and it lands in front of us, so we stop while he closes the rest of the space between our two parties. Seeing the scabbed cuts on his face, I realise that he must only be so healthy because he fights for it. He walks smoothly and confidently, and he’s broad shouldered and strong-looking. Sasher must feel threatened. I look over and see him cross his arms.22

“Who are you?”23

“Nrag,” the stranger replies, seeming to find his own name amusing. “But I suppose my full name is Nragath.”24

Sasher nods. “Why are your hands bound? And why did the Insiders dump you out here?”25

Nrag laughs. “Funny story. My friends and I managed to get into the City a couple of days ago. But practically the moment we got in we got caught, and… I was the only one they left alive to question. Once they got out of me how we got into their precious City, they decided there was no point in killing me after I was so cooperative… Well, I was cooperative at the end, anyway. So they decided to just dump me out here.” He indicated his chains. “This was the punishment. I wouldn’t be able to defend myself or do anything much out here with these on. In theory.”26

I frown. What does he mean by ‘in theory’? Does he think he’s so great that he can still survive out here alone with his hands tied?27

“What do you want from us then?” Sasher asks. 28

“Well, if you don’t mind, it’d be great if you could break these chains for me,” he grins. “Other than that, I’m happy to leave afterward if you wish. But if you didn’t mind, I would like to run with you. My previous gang is now dead. I can offer my skills.”29

“Which are?” our leader raises an eyebrow.30

Nrag considers the question. “I hunt well. But if scrat meat isn’t to your taste, I can also fight well. If you don’t mind my saying, your small troop could use all the help it can get.”31

“Another mouth to feed isn’t much help,” Sasher points out.32

“I just said I could prove my worth. But if you really want, I can feed myself separately with whatever I can get on my own.”33

Sasher exhales deeply and knits his brow, calculating. “Alright,” he says finally. “We have a deal. You will travel with us as defence, but essentially we work separately for now.”34

“Fantastic!” Nrag enthuses. “Now get me out of this shit.”35

“Avi,” Sasher throws me a large heavy file. “Get to work for us.” He and the entire troop immediately finds a comfortable spot and sits down, talking among themselves about the stranger. I look from the file to Nrag, then back at the file. Where did Sasher get this? It doesn’t matter. He didn’t give me this task for no reason. He knows I’ll know what he wants, and he wants more information. Sasher may be creepy at times, but at least he acknowledges my intelligence instead of assuming like most men (including my father) that I’m an idiot. I move closer to Nrag and he holds out his wrists. 36

“We might as well sit down,” I say. “This might take a while.”37

He wordlessly obliges and I get to work on the thick rings of metal. With so many layers, this really will take a while. Unless the knot comes undone after I just cut this first layer.38

“Avi,” Nrag says. I don’t look up. “That’s a strange name.”39

“It’s short for Avalia,” I mutter in a tone of voice that signifies the end of a conversation. I have to seem uninterested at first or I won’t get any information. No one ever wants to tell people things that they want to know. Nrag silences momentarily. 40