Page 25 of Beyond The Maples
"I’m so sorry," Leo mutters through clenched teeth, "but I can’t let you hurt my new friend, OK?"?
I step forward to help Leo subdue her.?
The waiting men push me out of the way and grab the girl, yanking her roughly towards the back of the truck.
"Hey! She’s unarmed! She’s just a kid. Be gentle with her!" I scream at them as they throw her to the ground beside her partner and begin cuffing her. The officer gives me a look and I clamp my mouth shut, despite having a few more choice words for the giant men manhandling the teenage girl.?
I turn away from the truck, pressing my still stinging eyes shut, and take a deep breath.?
"Hey, you OK?" I hear a quiet voice beside me ask.?
I nod. "Yup, just need a minute for my eyes to get all this dust out. I’ll see you in the truck. Thanks for the help."?
He leaves me without another word, and I finally open my eyes again. I pause a second to take in my surroundings. I look over the rolling hills, the sharp peaks of sand and dust that seem to dance with the wind. The stumps that litter the golden packed plains.?
Far off, bare trees splinter up through the burnt orange landscape like small pieces of dark lightning. I wonder how many full trees are left in other areas of the country. If the dead forests are still standing thick, idle and haunting, waiting for leaves that will never come. There are so few standing tall here now, firewood being a necessity. Even though they’re barren, they’re still beautiful. I prefer them to the stumps. The stumps seem so… final.?
I’ve never seen this area before, and I try to imagine it covered in green plains instead of tawny packed earth and rock. I try to imagine blooming trees and animals and blue-kissed skies, but I can’t. A lifetime of deprivation has stunted my imagination.?
Breathing deeply, I turn back towards the truck, hoping we miss the thick clouds I see coming towards us over the rolling hills behind.?
As I pass the driver, he gives me a curt nod before I hop back into the truck. The last one in again.
They’ve secured the two raiders at the far back, everyone giving them a wide berth as they sit there, hands tied together. The man sits stoically. The girl, however, has silent tears steadily streaming down her face. I feel for her. Her fate at The Centre won’t be a good one. They don’t keep prisoners long, our ever-dwindling resources making for quick sentences. I pray whatever punishment she gets is merciful.?
As we stop, I peek through cracks in the canvas. We've pulled up to the city's iron gates. The concrete walls loom over the vehicle, and I start fidgeting, cracking my knuckles to relieve the tension from the ride.
Leo lifts the screen fully so we can look out the back. As we roll through, my eyes widen at what I see. This city is different; I knew it would be, The Centre originated before the fall of Arcadya, under another name I can no longer remember, but it was the one place that never fully fell apart thanks to the Council’s intervention.
I knew it had somehow survived the war, but I didn't expect this. The city seems to be thriving; people wandering the streets, children laughing and playing happily. I glimpse the main square, and wonder why everyone seems lighter and cleaner here. A pang of jealousy surges through me. Even the air smells fresh. In theory, I know the high concrete walls around the city keep out a lot of the dust clouds, but I hadn't expected how vastly different it would feel.
People are ridingbikes, old, refurbished bikes with baskets and trailers, easing their everyday chores. I wonder how they keep them all going. There's evidence everywhere that at one time this place was spilling over with greenery. The heavier, empty pots lining the streets are like tombs to a lost world.
I'm captivated by the residents' faces, each one less haunted than those from my home town. I glance towards the rest of the passengers, wondering if I'm the only one thrown off by The Centre's inhabitants, but they all seem wide-eyed and pensive. The combinations of awe and shock sit heavy with us as we make our way further into the city.
For a second, I'd wondered if only our region was as bad as it is, but the looks on surrounding faces tell me they haven't seen this type of community in a long time, if ever. My chest tightens the further into the city we go. The more people I see, the more I think of my family, my friends all struggling to breathe most days through the thick dust.
I wonder what it would take to get my family here, for Willow to live in a place like this. I imagine her lungs would improve dramatically. I think of Linden here, riding a bike, and going to the big university that looms in the far distance. Then, I wonder about Deacon. Imagining him here is easy. He'd waltz in with his big smile and broad shoulders and everyone would love him. A thought strikes me. In all his traveling, has he never come here? Surely, he would've said something.
He would've questioned why such a small portion of the country was living so... differently. I have so many questions, but as my thoughts spiral through all the obvious inequalities, I also feel a renewed sense of purpose. If I can get Willow and Linden here somehow, things could be different. I take a deep breath, trying to ground myself.
I look out and notice we're away from the center of the city. Concrete, industrial-looking buildings tower over us on our left, the thick grey walls around the sunken city. The outside walls made higher by the natural valley. The vehicle stops and we all exit, dazed. Most shucking masks, scarves and hoods.
Rounding the corner, the officer leads us towards the doors of a giant industrial compound. There are large bays and garages to the left, and I hear the distinct clamor of people working and shouting things at each other. At first glance, it feels almost like a tiny city within the city. Made differently from everything we saw coming in. Immediately, I notice how all the windows seem to be actual windows. No boards or covers. There are two tall structures peering from the far right, connected by long narrow strips of concrete. Further back there appears to be an older part of the building, its worn red brick looking distinctly at odds with the grey metal and concrete.
Barking orders to get inside and line up against the wall, the officer hauls the captives in through another set of small doors and disappears.
Two men appear in the tall bare room. The younger one holds a clipboard and glances anxiously at the other, a middle-aged man who has a permanent scowl on his face. His white mustache matches his snowy hair, and despite his years, he's intimidating. He commands attention, his face weathered and stern.
"My name is Captain Jim Kethler. I'm here for your intake and will be the commanding officer in charge of your initial testing and training. It is wise to follow orders, and to not piss me off."
The nervous young man to his left fumbles a little with his clipboard, his glasses catching on something as he tries to straighten himself out. The Captain looks annoyed immediately, and this seems to only stress glasses out more.
The Captain clears his throat. "This is cadet Wesley Hoover. We have assigned him to clerical here. He'll take your information first, show you your assigned bunks, and give you the official tours. Tomorrow morning, you'll all begin assessments and be put into trainee unit crews. Once your general training is done, you'll be assigned a section. Those of you with exceptional aptitudes will be assigned spots in specific practical fields, like engineering or medical, but I'll warn you, those positions are scarce. The last cohort of cadets were exclusively assigned to our general infantry."
The Captain scans all of us, as if making sure everyone understood, then turns abruptly and walks out the way he came.
Wesley's features relax the second the Captain's footsteps fade into the hall.
