Chapter 16
I do fall asleep, drifting in and out of consciousness, getting up only long enough to eat and drink. When I finally wake up for good, Flynn is standing nearby practicing his knife throwing. My legs are stiff from sleeping for so long and I still feel weak, but otherwise my dehydration symptoms are practically gone. From the lighting, I can tell that it is late afternoon, but I am unsure how many days have passed since the Endrone let me go. When Flynn sees me, he stops his practice and comes over.
“How are you feeling?” He asks.
“Pretty good,” I answer, “How long have I been out? I really don’t remember much since we left Endrone and I first fell asleep.”
“You’ve been sleeping on and off for about a day and a half,” he explains. He slides me a handful of strange nuts and berries, “Here, eat these. You haven’t had anything since yesterday so I assume you are starving.” I actually am hungry, so I accept the food. The berries are bitter and the nuts rather tasteless but I manage to choke them down and feel better afterward. When I am finished, I head over to the stream and take a long drink and splash my face. I turn around to see Flynn waiting for me, his knife already in hand. “Do you feel well enough to travel?” He asks.
This surprises me; usually we are careful to avoid traveling at this time of day, “Won’t we risk meeting up with a patrol?”
“No,” Flynn replies, “We have crossed into no man’s land which is inhabited by the Unaffiliated. And they usually avoid traveling by daylight. We should be able to get a few hours of walking in before dark.”
That evening, we take cover in an abandoned wooden shelter. The ceiling is low and the inside is damp and musty. Still, it is better than sleeping out in the open. “Are you sure no one lives here?” I ask nervously.
Flynn nods, “I’ve stayed here several times before and nobody has ever bothered me.”
I hope that isn’t going to change today.
For dinner, we eat a few more of the berries that Flynn scavenged. As we eat, I notice that Flynn and I are sitting unnecessarily close to each other, our arms brushing whenever one of us moves. When we are finished, Flynn takes out the wooden training knives and tosses one to me. “Are you up for a little practice?”
I catch the knife, grinning. “Absolutely, it’s time for you to meet your match.”
Flynn rolls his eyes, “You have a lot of confidence for someone who just a few days ago didn’t even know how to hold the knife right.”
“You should never underestimate your opponent,” I reply.
Flynn leads me to a small clearing. I take up my stance and face Flynn, feeling nervous. Although we are only practicing with wooden knives that won’t cause any real damage, I still find the prospect of facing someone as talented as Flynn to be somewhat daunting. Reflexively, I tighten my grip on the knife to steady my hand, but immediately Flynn corrects me.
“Relax your hand,” he instructs, “Keep your grip supple.”
I relax and he nods his approval. “Ready?” He asks with a grin. Before I can respond he jumps forward. I instinctively raise my knife to meet his and manage to deflect the first strike. But he recovers quickly and before I can defend myself, his knife is pointed at my throat. I freeze and Flynn laughs, “Not bad for your first attempt, let’s try it again.”
We train for the next forty five minutes until I am too exhausted to continue. I flop down on my back and try not to move my sore muscles. Even though the practice knives won’t kill, I still managed to get numerous cuts and bruises from where Flynn’s knife hit its mark. However, I am definitely improving. Towards the end of our training session I was able to exchange five or six blows with Flynn before he would defeat me. I stare up at the sky. It getting dark quickly and the first stars are starting to come out. For some reason, lying here with Flynn nearby, I feel insanely happy. I know it is crazy; I am on Murderers with more than one clan pursuing us and death seems more and more likely each day, but for the moment, I feel blissful. I lie here until night falls completely and then head back into the small hut.
Flynn is already there, sitting against one of the walls. His expression is unreadable, but there is a stormy look in his eyes. I wonder if he is thinking about Marek. His expression clears when I sit next to him and we sit in comfortable silence. Eventually, I feel something running down my face, and I realize that one of the cuts on my cheek has started to bleed. I stem the flow with my sleeve, but Flynn notices the blood and he leaps to his feet looking concerned. “Brie, are you alright? You’re bleeding.”
“It’s okay,” I try to reassure him; “it’s just a cut from training. It isn’t even deep.”
He pulls me up and turns me so he can see the scrape. He still looks anxious. “It’s fine.” I say again, “See, the bleeding’s already stopped.” I drop my arm so Flynn can see for himself. He looks at it, his thumb caressing the cut, and slowly he leans in. He hesitates, our faces separated by only a few inches. Then our lips meet and he kisses me gently. The kiss deepens until it becomes desperate, Flynn pushes me up against the wall, his body pressed tight against mine. I kiss him back hungrily, relishing the taste of Flynn’s lips, the feeling of his hands on my waist. Flynn pulls back slightly; his lips brush my cheek and then my neck before, much too soon, he pulls away completely. Passion is still burning in Flynn’s eyes and I am short of breath.
“You should rest now.” He whispers, “We have a long walk tomorrow.” Flynn kisses me one more time before stepping back.
As I lie down on the cold dirt floor, Flynn’s arm wrapped protectively around me, I can’t keep my thoughts away from Flynn. I don’t even remember falling for him, but now I ache to be near him. I allow Flynn’s steady heartbeat to drift me off to sleep as I try not to think about what will happen once we make it back to Innocents.
It feels like I have just fallen asleep when Flynn shakes me awake. Early morning sun streams in from between the cracks in the walls and the air is chilly enough to see my breath. I start to shiver and I rub my arms to warm up. Apparently I still haven’t acclimated to sleeping in the cold. Flynn notices and he wraps his arms around me, lending me some of his own warmth. Being so close to him causes my heart to do a little flip with pleasure. I close my eyes and enjoy his nearness. We stay this way until I finally work up the nerve to ask the question that has been gnawing at my mind. “Flynn, what’s going to happen with us once we arrive on Innocents?”
I can feel Flynn tense and a few moments pass until he answers. “I don’t know.” He finally says. I start to pull away, but Flynn hugs me tighter, “We can worry about that when the time comes,” he whispers, kissing my collar bone.
I shake my head, “We can’t put off thinking about it. Once we get there, you will be a fugitive, it will be impossible for you to stay on Innocents without getting caught. And as soon as I make it back they will force me to take my Occupational Test and ship me off to work on one of the Islands.”
“Escape to Mainlands with me,” Flynn urges, “we can disappear entirely, find a place where nobody will find us. It can just be you and me.”
I inhale sharply; I had never considered the prospect of leaving Innocents. I have a life that I could return to, a career that I could be happy doing. Sera and Livi wait for me. Was I really willing to throw that all away for a boy I just met?
Flynn turns me around and rests his forehead against mine and whispers, “I can’t lose you, Brie.”
And I may be stupid, foolish, and hopelessly infatuated when I whisper back “Okay,” but I don’t care. Flynn gives me that smile of his that causes my heart to flutter and steps away.
We eat the last of the berries for breakfast, but Flynn assures me that he will be able to find more along the way. “Ready to face Murderers again?” Flynn asks when we’re done eating and I groan. The happiness that I have been feeling for the past day had overshadowed the fear that I constantly feel on Murderers. However, now that it is time to start traveling again, the trepidation returns
in full force. Flynn seems to sense my nervousness and takes my hand. “Hey, don‘t worry”, he says, “It is going to be fine. We are in No Man’s Land. I can handle any attack here.”
“I know,” I say quietly, “I’m just not sure I can handle seeing any more people die.”
“It’s only a few more days,” Flynn reassures me, “And then we will be free from it all.”
I nod and take a deep breath. “Okay, I’m ready.”
We walk hand in hand for most of the journey, following the path of a shallow stream. Flynn is obviously more relaxed now that we have crossed into the unclaimed territory. He still keeps his knife in hand at all times, but his arm is relaxed and at his side. Along the way, Flynn manages to kill a rabbit. “We can have a fire now that we are out of clan territory,” Flynn promises me, and I smile. It will be nice to eat something other than wild berries and nuts.
We manage to pass the day without meeting another person, and by the time we stop for the night, I am feeling more relaxed than I have in a long time. While Flynn is preparing the rabbit, I take out my knife and start practicing. I am still stiff and bruised from sparring with Flynn, but I disregard the pain, determined to improve. Flynn’s voice goes through my head as I practice my first maneuver. Keep a wide stance, don’t let your grip become rigid, your hand must be an extension of the blade. Aim for the heart, eyes, or throat. Know the difference between a death shot and a wound. One mistake can be the difference between survival and defeat. I slash my knife down and mimic a strike to an opponent’s heart. Soon I become lost in the world of the fight, and when I return to reality, I am exhausted yet exhilarated. I see Flynn has come over to watch me and I turn towards him, expecting critique. He saunters over and drapes his arms around my waist, “You’re getting better, pretty soon I won’t even be a match for you.”
“I have a good teacher,” I reply and Flynn smiles.
Flynn and I sit together while we eat. I had never eaten rabbit before and the meat has a pungent taste that takes getting used to. However, it is nice to have actual meat for a change. While I eat, I think about what I would have been like if I had been born on Murderers. If I was born here, would I be like Flynn? Able to defend myself against all enemies, find food, and beat the odds in order to survive? I wonder if I have what it takes. Even after being on Murderers for two weeks, I am still completely dependent on Flynn for everything. From protection to finding food, without Flynn I am helpless. I think of the way he sent his knife spinning through the air, killing the rabbit before it was even alerted to our presence. I had never learned to throw a knife; it was a skill that was regarded as useless on Innocents. However, here, that seems like a dangerous gap in my training that must be remedied quickly.
“Will you teach me how to throw a knife?” I ask Flynn.
He hesitates, “I can try. But it isn’t a skill you can master overnight. It takes months of practice to become consistent. I doubt it will help you much here.”
“I still want to learn,” I insist, “Besides, it may come in handy back on Mainlands.”
“Alright,” Flynn says, standing up, “Let’s get started then.”
First, Flynn demonstrates how to properly throw the knife. I study him carefully, taking note of his every move. He first points the blade at his target, a tree about three meters away. Then Flynn draws it back to behind his head before swinging his arm forward and releasing the knife. It sticks easily in the middle of the tree and Flynn turns toward me, “Your turn now.”
I try to copy Flynn’s stance, left foot in front, both knees slightly bent, weight on the balls of my feet.
“Turn your hips slightly,” Flynn orders, “Make sure you are square with the target.” He comes up behind me to correct my positioning and when he is done; his hands linger on my waist, causing warmth to course through me. “You should keep your left arm pointing straight at the target as a guide and release the knife when your right arm is even with your left. When you release continue to swing your arm back. That’s called a follow through.”
I nod and focus my attention on the target.
On my first attempt, the knife arrives at the tree in the middle of a rotation, causing the handle of the blade to hit instead of the point, but at least I managed to hit the target. Flynn has me continue practicing until I finally get a good stick. By the time I manage it, my shoulders are aching with fatigue, and the jarring motion seems to have aggravated my bruised ribs, but I manage to hide the pain the best I can. I know Flynn would refuse to teach me any more if he thought it was hurting me.
I wander off a ways into the woods until I find where the stream crosses my path. I’m filthy and the water only comes up to my knees, but I manage to wash myself the best I can. My clothes are also dirty from travel, but the night is too cold to wash them now. The best I can do is shake them out before redressing. I brush through my hair with my fingers and then examine my reflection in the gently flowing water. I grimace; my time on Murderers has dramatically changed my appearance. My cheeks have hollowed out and my hair is a mess, despite my best efforts at controlling it. However, the biggest change is in my eyes. The brown irises have taken on a hard look that reflect the danger and fear I have been living in. I look away and head back to our encampment. The last light has long since left the sky, and I can tell it is late.
Flynn is still awake, waiting for me. He sits against a tree, lazily spinning his knife on the ground. “If you took any longer, I was going to go looking for you. I was getting nervous that something had happened,” he says when he sees me.
I roll my eyes, “I was barely gone for fifteen minutes. And besides, I’m not helpless anymore, I can handle myself.”
“You were never helpless,” Flynn remarks, “You’re one of the strongest people I know. But I still worry about you, I have told you before, you attract trouble like crazy.”
There is too much truth to deny what he is saying, so I choose not to argue. Instead I lie down next to Flynn. He slides his arm under my head, cushioning it against the ground and I slowly fade away.