Page 18 of Calico Descending

“You don’t need to go with them!” I chide her, and the way her eyes skate to the side tells me she’s embarrassed.

Wrenching her arm out of my grasp, she tightens her lips in anger. “You’re not my mom! You can’t tell me what to do!”

“You’re right! I’m not! But she wouldn’t want you acting that way, either!”

“She isn’t here!”

“Because she’s dead!”

“She’s dead because of you!”

The bite of her words slices into my heart, and it takes every ounce of effort not to tear up at her words. Sometimes, I forget that Bryani is young. She doesn’t understand the heartbreak of simple words. They fly off her tongue with little to no remorse, because no one has ever spoken to her that way. I could never bring myself to hurt her.

I stand dumbfounded for a minute, watching her storm off with the other girls, toward the fence. Beyond the barrier, groups of boys in blue uniforms, my age and older, form groups. Some stand around talking. Others smoke. Some stand at the fence, calling out to the girls.

A guard shuffles the boys off, setting my stomach at ease, and I wait, observing my sister with her newfound friends. They park themselves beneath a tree at the corner of the yard, sitting in a circle, clapping their hands in play.

As I glance around the yard, I note that all of the girls look the same, a sea of bald heads and yellow uniforms, making it nearly impossible to distinguish one from the other. Even Bryani doesn’t stick out from them as easily as I hoped. I’ve never seen so many girls and women in one place before. It’s as if they gathered up every last one in the world and brought them here. The question is, what for?

To keep my observations from looking too obvious, I make my way across the yard, noting where everything is, scanning for holes in the fences, objects lying about that can be used as a step for climbing. Or weapons against the guards. Not a single means of escape in this place.

Opposite my sister, I back myself against the fence, from where I can watch her.

I wish I could be that innocent. So young and naïve. Blind to the dangers I can see through this false shroud. What bliss it would be to pretend that this is the kind of place where friends are made and life is better than outside the walls. Judging by the haggard appearance of so many of these girls, though, I get a sense that isn’t the case.

“Check it out. We got a newbie!”

The unfamiliar voice from behind draws me out of my musings, and I turn to see a stocky girl standing behind me. Scattered freckles complement the pale tone of her skin. Narrow, beady eyes, set too close, don’t seem to be all that friendly.

“What’s your number, Newbie?”

Shrugging, I turn to blow her off, noticing my sister isn’t sitting under the tree anymore.

“Hey! Don’t ignore me, bitch.” A shove from behind nearly knocks me to the ground, and I scowl back at her.

“Back off.”

She looks beyond me, cupping her hands at either side of her mouth. “Eh! Sixty-five! I got a newb!”

Following the path of her stare has my gaze landing on one of the older kids in the yard next door. He breaks from his group, subtly tossing a cigarette aside, as he makes his way toward the fence. Bright green eyes and tawny skin with a strong jaw, he looks to be eighteen, or nineteen, maybe. Handsome, but the glint in his eyes is pure trouble.

“Yeah? Let’s see her.”

“Get up,” Freckles commands.

“Piss off.” I don’t curse as a general rule, unless someone pushes me over the edge, but after today, I’m already halfway to the bottom of the cliff.

Grabbing a handful of my uniform, she yanks hard, drawing me to my feet. My muscles, still too weak from whatever drug I’ve been given, are of little use in fighting her. Bent forward, all I can do is scratch at her arms while she drags me along the fence, nearly tugging my shirt to my breasts, where the boy stands.

“Stop! Stop it!”

She guides me around the tree, and at the first sound of clicking and growls, my guts feel like they’re about to expel what little I’ve eaten.

I scream, but my pitch is no match for the collective growls that grow more excitable. The girls around me laugh as Freckles tugs me closer, close enough I can feel small spasms of pain as the monsters scratch their nails over my skin.

“You have a choice, girl. Let the Ragers flay you right here, or touch my friend’s junk.”

Nails digging into her skin, I scratch at her hand, and she releases me.

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