Dwindle

  Chapter Twenty-six: The Path for Coming to Terms

  “Foot!”

  I flipped around. The voice broke everything I’d achieved.

  “Iris, no!” I shouted.

  “Foot!”

  He flipped around to her and the moment, the realization, the life, the mentality of my best friend wilted and died. His neck was exposed to me then, and I took my opportunity. My hands shook as they twisted to my larger gun. I pointed it and stood on the frame of the building.

  “Myth, no!”

  I looked away, whimpered like a beaten dog, and fired the gun. A sickening hole appeared and sprayed his blood in various directions. His body swayed for a moment, already dead, and fell with a crunch louder than either of their chewing had been. I stared down at it with shaking hands as I wrapped my gun about to my waist. I stared down at him, knowing he would spread disease. I would have to set them both on fire, like all the rest. I just didn’t feel like, in those moments, that I could do anything but stare wide-eyed.

  And also in those moments was there a revolution inside of me. It could not be replayed or told as it would be similar to describing color to a person without eyes. It was alive, a thought. I looked up at the horizon to the destruction and chaos that was spread as far as I could see. It was terrible, and it was a horrible, unhappy hole for people to go and…die. Dying, surely, could not be the purpose of living. To die? Impossible.

  I knew that, in my heart, my mind was set. I was to do what they had done – my parents – and I would die fighting if I had to. But I would not aim, as so many others had, to live and then die. There was more than that. I just had to find it. That had always been my job…

  “I have to get out of here,” I whispered to myself.

  I began to climb back with that, back to the place where the best and worst years of my life had been spent.

  “MYTH!” Iris shrieked at me.

  There was commotion below me, but it made me not move faster as I climbed back into the city of Hand. Iris was immediately upon me, spewing, screaming useless drivel that I could not hear, nor would. It bothered me not until she pushed me, after I had turned around, and the action reminded me of how she had taken Foot from beneath my nose.

  I turned around to her. She was breathing heavily in the silence of the crowd. I saw Ollie behind her, watching for me to attack, anxious and nervous for Iris. He was the only one who had ever seen me angry, and I knew he didn’t like me when I was angry. I glanced at Fudge, worried and waiting for the same thing also.

  I smiled at her suddenly. I walked up to her and in one, fast, fluid motion, I swung. My knuckles made contact with the larger part of her face, but the action sent chills of pain up and down my arm to my injured shoulder. It pleased me. I turned away from her, quite finished, and felt an urgency I couldn’t explain. If I waited, it felt like I would lose my chance to live and to escape and to be brave. I wanted to live. I was excited that I would finally get to.

  Ollie ran up next to me. He was breathless and worried. He would be leaving soon. I didn’t know why he was wasting his prized words as he began to speak with me. I never understood. In fact, right then, I didn’t even listen. His confusion for me was exhausting and upsetting, and I couldn’t sleep for wanting his approval. I didn’t know why. And I didn’t want it anymore.

  “What are you doing?” he asked breathlessly. “What are you – hey, come on, what are –?”

  I jogged into my house to see if there were belongings there that I held dear enough to carry with me to my probable death. I threw off my bloodied shirt and picked up another one.

  “Hey!” He waited more. “Hey!”

  He grabbed my arms and turned me to him. I was only half dressed, but neither of us noticed. Well. Maybe he did. For a moment.

  “What are you doing?” he asked breathlessly.

  “I’m getting out of here.”

  I smiled, too. It was the first time I had smiled in a long time. Too long of a time. I shook out of his arms. He looked stunned with disbelief.

  “I’m getting out of here!” I said louder.

  I actually laughed. It was a real laugh. It felt good to laugh. Only a small part of me felt wrong at laughing so soon after the death of my family, but it had, in reality been a long while. It had been nearly two weeks. Two weeks was a long time to go in my world. A lifetime of things had happened.

  I smiled again, realizing how much would be happening to me in my next two weeks.

  “I’m getting out of here…”

  “What?” Ollie asked after a moment. He looked a little dazed.

  “I said I’m leaving.”

  I laughed again. Though I was grieved more than I could say, I was ready to move on past the deaths of my friends. It saddened me, but I had lost souls all my life. I would not go through it again because there was no one left to lose. That part of my life was over – the losing.

  It was the purpose of that end. The people in my life had died so I could start again. The knowledge of completion satisfied every particle of my body and I felt chills of pleasure. It made so much sense to me. I was done my obligation to lose everything I had. When I had nothing, I was done. I had nothing left to take. I could live for the first time. I didn’t have anything to guard. I was free. I was finally free. It was my purpose. I thought maybe Ollie would understand.

  “But what about Hand?” he asked.

  “I hate Hand.”

  I looked up to him as I jumped to the backroom. I saw nothing there but my small, empty, deflated bag (besides the book, which I shoved into it). I emptied my bag at the Gallery. I would have to go there to get my belongings.

  There seemed to be an internal battle going on the inside of Ollie, similar to Foot’s. He wasn’t angry with me like he usually was. He felt excitement for an odd reason. I read it in his eyes. Ollie wanted to say something, but he was struggling to keep it down.

  “But you will survive in Hand,” he said.

  His words contradicted his manner. He wanted to say something to me.

  I laughed, but it held a sense of such determination to Ollie’s reckoning that he even smiled, impressed.

  “I don’t want to survive. I want to live.”

  I was strangely happy.

  I walked out and saw the Outlanders standing in a group, guns and bags and all.

  “We’re leaving – now, Oliver!” Pierce was watching him follow me.

  “Where are you going, Fisher?” Paige asked, eyes on my gun and bag.

  I turned to her.

  “Ellie.” I laughed. “My name is Ellie!”

  “Where are you going?” Ali called.

  I turned to them and to them all. There was still a sizable group of people in the clearing. They seemed confused.

  “I’m leaving!”

  I saluted them as I began to climb the framework to leave the town. The gate hadn’t been opened in the days since Chess’s death in mourning. I wouldn’t be the first to open it. The people wouldn’t know how to close it at night, if I did open it.

  “OLIVER DARK!” Pierce boomed.

  He jogged up to us with his bag. He grabbed Ollie’s arm when he reached us on the other side. I didn’t look back at the town. I already knew what it looked like.

  “You disobeyed a direct order!”

  “I didn’t!” Ollie said defensively.

  He hoisted up his own bag, which he had subsequently picked up while I was getting mine. His whole group was walking quickly behind me.

  Paige caught up to me as they began to argue further. Her face didn’t understand.

  “Where are you going?”

  Her eyes spoke with awe and surprise. It was surprising that a human could admire me like she was, as I was inferior. Or I had for so long appeared to be.

  “I’m leaving Hand,” I said confidently.

  “But where are you going?” she asked.

  Her face turned worried. She grabbed my arm and turned to Pierce and Ollie,
as if to speak. She couldn’t. They were both arguing some point that neither wanted to back down on.

  “I’m going to the Gallery.”

  I remembered she knew not what it was.

  “It’s the place of my fortune,” I clarified.

  I pulled out of Paige’s grip gently.

  “With the light bulb?” Ali asked in disgust.

  She sulked at being sidelined.

  I turned to her, deciding whether or not I wanted violence on her. I decided against it as she was soon to be less than a memory of mine anyway. I glanced back at the two of them and was deeply impressed and surprised that Ollie was winning their argument.

  “What are they arguing about?” I asked Paige quietly.

  She frowned.

  “You.”

  We reached the Gallery with quick time where Ollie and Pierce were finishing the conversation less heatedly than usual. I unlocked the door and reentered cautiously. I needed all the safety I could get. If I died within minutes of leaving Hand, I was worth nothing to anyone as a Cartographer or otherwise.

  Ollie was behind me. His presence surprised me, if not annoyed me, and I wanted only to get on my way. His sudden desire to be with me made me angrier than annoyed. I hadn’t talked to him since his confession. He had used me, yelled at me, and lied to me. He’d tried to kill me. I kept my distance, in line with his desires.

  I did not know what else there was to say.

  “What?” I asked after a moment.

  “Why are you leaving Hand?” he asked.

  “Don’t try to talk me out of it and don’t try to own it.”

  I looked up to him, still remembering, with anger, the conversation and confession he had had with Pierce and the rest. The confession he had had to me. He wanted to kill me. He was going to kill me.

  “I am not property, Ollie.”

  I laughed. It wasn’t my laugh again; it was the sick laugh. It was his, not mine.

  “I’m leaving.”

  He was frustrated, and he closed his eyes to contain it.

  “But…where were you going to go?”

  “I was going to leave for the horizon,” I said.

  “What were you going to eat?” he asked.

  “I’m a Cartographer.”

  “What happens when you run out of ammo?”

  “I’m a Cartographer,” I said again.

  “What happens when you get injured and are bleeding in the middle of the night without ammo? Being a Cartographer doesn’t justify everything!”

  It took me a moment to decipher his words. Ollie was trying to confuse me with his fastness, so I decided to reciprocate.

  “Then I will die, won’t I, Ollie? Just like you should have, but I saved you.” I was hurt by it. He understood. “I don’t need your voice of reason – I know what I am better than you do.” I paused, quieter, slower.

  “Besides, I’m just an Aio…”

  He put a hand on my shoulder, gently. I was too busy packing things to notice or care. It felt odd there though, after what he had said. I didn’t want his hands to touch me.

  “Ollie, just leave me alone – I’m an Aio…I’m sure I can handle it.”

  “Do you want to handle it?” he asked. Without waiting for an answer, he said, “Listen, I have to tell you something…”

  I braced myself for more news. I couldn’t imagine what more there could be. I could imagine his next sentence, but he stopped as I tensed and turned around.

  “What?” I asked suspiciously.

  “It’s just that…”

  “What?” I asked, more exasperated.

  “I don’t know if…”

  He seemed so unsure of himself. It was new for him. It was almost childish, in a way, and it made some of my anger lessen.

  “What if I…would you…”

  He breathed out with frustration as I stared at him. It was almost like when he did he became confused. But he finally looked up and asked,

  “What would you say if I asked you to come with us?”

  I was stunned.

  “What did you say?”

  “Do you want to come with us?” he asked.

  It reminded me of Pierce’s words on how I could not come. They clicked into my own suddenly. They wanted to keep what I was from me – a Deviant. They thought I would not figure it out, and I wouldn’t have without Ollie. They all thought I was this weapon to be had – I was nothing more. They wanted to kill me for it and now, they wanted to use me for it. I was tired of being used.

  “I thought I wasn’t allowed to go.”

  I scowled at him and continued on with what I was doing. He had expected me to at least listen to his words or to get excited. However, they hated me, so I couldn’t get excited. If I had learned anything about his world, it was that it was not a good one. It wasn’t a place where I aspired to go.

  I began,

  “I can’t go with you.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Why do you say that?”

  “I heard you talking about it. I shouldn’t. It was disallowed. Besides, why would you ask me anyway?”

  “What is your problem?”

  I rolled my eyes to him, but he couldn’t see because I had my back to him. He flipped me around, but I twisted that wrist and put my other hand to his shoulder to keep him away from me.

  “Don’t touch me, Ollie!” I yelled.

  He was surprised and let go sadly. He knew what I felt.

  Fear.

  “I am tired of you grabbing me! If you do it again, I will break your arm!”

  But then I regained myself, smiling viciously.

  “I’m not special. Not particularly kind or smart. I never have been.”

  Realization dawned in his face. It had been what he said. I turned around to continue my work to avoid a considerably awkward situation.

  “You said it yourself, Oliver,” I snapped. “I was just necessary. Good thing I’m not anymore.”

  He hesitated only briefly before whispering,

  “Those words weren’t meant for –”

  “Shut up, Ollie!” I shrugged angrily to the far wall. “I heard everything you said. And…and if even half of what you said is true, you know that I’ll die where you’re from.”

  I glanced at him and saw how uncharacteristically small he looked. I sighed, and he looked up at me. The look in his eyes was different than before. We were suddenly grown-ups talking like grown-ups.

  “You know that, Ollie,” I said. “I…I can’t go back there.”

  He was holding his breath. I still felt strange fear.

  “If it’s your job to kill me, they’ll want you to do that.”

  “Are you…” Then, I heard anger. “Do you think I actually will?”

  Maybe in disgust. Maybe in fear. I couldn’t tell who he was angry at. He wasn’t really yelling at me though, he was simply yelling. Maybe at himself. Maybe that he would. Maybe that I thought he would.

  “Do you?” he pressed.

  I shook my head.

  “Ollie, I –”

  “Tell me – do you think I’ll kill you?”

  “I think, Ollie, that you were supposed to already!”

  I waited a few seconds, calming down again.

  “Isn't that right?”

  Silence. Then,

  “Yes.”

  I let out a long breath.

  “I think you breathe, eat, and sleep for this man – uh, this –”

  “My Master,” he said, his face falling.

  He was enslaved by his loyalty but it wasn’t as if he could change it.

  “He will want me dead, as you describe. It matters not if I have whatever cure for Undeath you think I have.” I paused, looking him over. “Or if I’m a Great Deviant…Your Exteriors will wipe me out.”

  I surveyed him closely. He was so appealing to me, suddenly. I would certainly miss him where I was going.

  “I’m going to die if I go with you…”

 
I continued shoving things into that bag.

  “Is it…”

  He was tentative again. I had never seen him so shy about anything.

  “Is it because of me – I mean – me?”

  I turned to him with the hint of a smile on my face. He was worried. It was cute.

  “Not…not really. You are who you are now, right?”

  I folded my arms tightly, nervously. I was still afraid of his hands.

  “So…no. I don’t think the choice is yours. Never has been.”

  “I made the choice to kill all those Deviants,” he said stiffly.

  “And you chose…not to kill me. That counts for something to me.”

  “Really?” he asked after a moment.

  He had expected the exact opposite, I could tell.

  “Just keep your hands off my skin or I’ll break them, you hear?”

  I was joking. He took it as encouragement.

  “Then are you coming with us?”

  I sighed.

  “Did you just listen to what I just said?”

  I sighed again, my back still to him. I actually felt bad for having to do it.

  “Listen, Ollie…we’re…we’re going to have to part ways. It’s fine.”

  “Are you breaking up with me?” he asked sarcastically.

  I rolled my eyes again with aggravation.

  “No – not like – Ollie, come on. Seriously.” I shook my head. “Just let me go and we can be done with it.”

  He flipped me to him again.

  “I will not be done with it; you’re going to die!”

  “And since what time has that mattered to you, my friend?”

  There was a long silence.

  “Are you afraid?” he asked suddenly.

  I knew it was just to provoke me into yelling with him. I wasn’t in the mood. I knew I had to be in the mood to yell at things, often times. I wasn’t in the mood then so his provocation didn’t bother me much. It only got me to thinking. I was embarrassed to admit that yes, in actuality, I was afraid.

  “Why do I have to explain myself to you? I’m not even real.”

  He looked deep into my face angrily, and we were both content to hate each other for a moment.

  “What are you afraid of then?” he asked angrily.

  My voice shook with fear as I claimed,

  “I’m not.”

  “What are you afraid of?” he asked again, more persistently. “Are you afraid of me or are you just concerned with the fact that you might actually be something in this life?”

  He was very, very close. His grip on my arm was legendary and his anger was absolute. I didn’t know why I made him so angry. Then, I remembered. I was a Great Deviant.

  “Well? Which one? What is it?” He demanded an answer. “What are you afraid of? Me or Probe?”

  I looked away and then back at him. My bag hung loosely in my hand. I tightened my grip on it with difficulty.

  I finally said,

  “A little of both, Ollie.”

  I gently took his hand from my shoulder. I found my hand sliding down his arm to his hand, holding it there away from us.

  “I’m afraid.”

  “But I haven’t done anything to you,” he said weakly.

  “And how do I know you won’t?” I asked aggressively. “How can anyone know that? You said it yourself; you’re a murderer and a liar. You aren’t qualified to give advice because half the time things coming out of your mouth are lies anyway.”

  He looked sad. I wouldn’t be moved.

  “Well? Aren’t they?”

  “Yeah…” he muttered, trying hard to look away from me and failing.

  “It’s…I’m just afraid of – of what could happen. To you. To me…I don’t know. To both of us.” I was sheepish. I wasn’t quite sure why I cared. “This is the right choice, Ollie. Just trust me – come on.”

  His face was desperate.

  “But –”

  “It’s not you, Ollie. It…it really isn't.”

  I could see that he didn’t believe me. He had expected me to hate him for being a murderer. Or maybe he had hoped that I would.

  “I just can’t – I don’t know.”

  He didn’t say anything. I was closer to him than I remembered him standing.

  “I just…You’re still a good friend, you know. For telling me. For…for not doing it. You could have and you didn’t.”

  I actually smiled. It was small. It was uncharacteristically shy.

  “Thank you.”

  There was a moment where we didn’t hate each other. It was just a moment, but a moment all the same. A very, very close moment. I stared up at him and I felt the beginning of my new feeling, despite everything he had done, everything I was, everything he meant for my existence, I felt safe. I hadn’t let go of his hand and I wouldn’t, no matter what, look away from his eyes. Safety felt good. So good it almost made me cry with happiness.

  Paige came down the steps and was all smiles – he let go of my hand fast without my realizing he had grabbed it. He had been holding it tight and close, bringing me. I dropped his hand. We both glanced at each other awkwardly, and we didn’t know why. We looked back at her, both of us flushing. She didn’t notice.

  “Ellie is such a pretty name!”

  She looked at my face. Hers changed. She seemed to sense my resistance.

  “But you have to come with us!”

  “She wants to go and get herself killed,” Ollie said quickly.

  He glared, and I looked at him imploringly – exasperatedly. I was about to speak when she asked,

  “Has he told you about our world? How different it is?”

  I didn’t understand but I felt another secret, another legend, was about to unfold. I glanced at him. I wondered if it was common knowledge what he had told me. By the look on his face, a look of agonized imploration, it wasn’t. He didn’t want me to tell her of his past. It was our secret. It was fine for me to understand that he wanted to keep secrets, but I wanted to know more of their world, secret or not. I always wanted to know more. I wouldn’t know more from him if I told his secret. He would never tell me anything again. I let him know I was on his side, at least in this endeavor.

  “No,” I said.

  I looked at him. He didn’t look at me, for once. I could see he was relieved and he squeezed my hand next to me, behind us, hidden from Paige. I felt satisfaction at finally doing the right thing for him. At finally having his satisfaction.

  “I guess he hasn’t.”

  I turned and continued to pack things in.

  She laughed.

  “We’re from beyond the Great Gate, but we live far, far beyond the Mists.”

  “Is that possible?” I asked, fumbling with the light that I was about to stuff into my bag.

  “Our world is run by science,” she said. “And science can be grand.”

  “I…”

  I felt shaken. Things like this didn’t happen – they weren’t supposed to happen to me. They were supposed to happen to other people, and I was supposed to look at them and pity them, but they did not happen to me.

  Paige grabbed my shoulders.

  “You need to come with us, Ellie. You’ll die if you don’t.”

  “But I don’t know anything!”

  I was so defensive of the fact, despite the fact that it had embarrassed me for so long.

  “I mean I…I know some things like how to stay alive and cook and that kind of stuff…Like counting and cooking and mending. But I don’t know anything useful – why?” I shrugged. “Why am I so different? Why do you want me so – badly?”

  Paige shrugged.

  “Because we have to.”

  I stared at her, suddenly, and I knew it was a threat. Even if I didn’t want to go, I had to follow them, wherever they were going. It might have been the end of the “Earth,” but I would never know. The threat was silent and was never acknowledged, but it was a decided cruelty,
at best. I packed up the flag, left the Gallery (never to return,) and I walked off with them into the darkness of day.