Beyond the Wall

The bald crow cried thrice to signal the Sun’s altering hue. Prin gazed at the now pale green orb and sighed. Pulling her scarf tighter around her face, she slid from the bar and vaulted over the crumbling wall into the street. The Traveller’s sign creaked a final farewell to her as she trudged towards home. The growing breeze carried forgotten waste down the road, swirling and dancing along the pavement, an imitation of life that had long since ceased. Due to it’s immediate proximity to the wall, the small village had been one of the first to be stripped bare and had thus been rather peaceful of late. Prin stuck to the path and turned right from Main Street along Chestnut Grove, the only chestnut in sight a small, worn etching on the side of dustbin. She gazed with longing at the dark alleyway which connected Chestnut to Rose Way but continued without altering her course. Without rules, we are no better than them. Rick’s voice, carved into her memory. She walked all the way to the end of Chestnut, took a left and weaved through the mess of houses, sticking to the cover of shadows as she moved. Passed Boundary Gardens, passed Cherry Tree Lane, passed Acacia Avenue and finally passed Rose Way, where she quickened her pace. Beyond Rose Way, a barren wasteland, the white wall looming in the distance. Her feet knew the way, they followed the path that they themselves had grooved into the sandy earth.

A land devoid of life besides one girl and the wild birds circling over head, swooping ever nearer, curious, hungry. Prin eyed the birds lazily as they tested her, seeking a reaction in order to plot their next move. On the surface, two completely different species, bird and human and yet their only purpose unanimous, survival. Prin had once regarded the birds as distant companions, never to interact with, but as the narrow wall between alone and isolation. As the years had dragged by and the numbers of both species had dwindled- along with the few remaining food alternatives- the overriding desire to consume one another had put a strain on the friendship. Prin walked on, through the thickening haze and the birds retreated, until the next day at least. Her eyes followed them until they were dark green specks in the fog, she had long stopped wondering where the birds sought refuge during the dark hours, she found it tedious to waste time on questions she could not answer.

By the time Prin had reached the wall the haze was practically palpable, the familiar smell of decay seeped into her scarf and clung to her clothes like bitumen. She dragged her sleeve across her goggles, smearing away the slick residue that had gathered so she could just make out the glowing banner above her. A middle aged woman beamed out across the wasteland, arms outstretched ‘It is never too late to admit you are wrong- join the Sanctum Capital and The Mother’s loving embrace.’ Prin’s lips twisted beneath her scarf as she stared at the banner. Her eyes lingered on The Mother’s, the warmest face she could ever recall seeing, soft green eyes with a slight crinkle at the corners, plump cheeks spread in a gleaming smile and smooth red hair falling to shoulders decorated with a crisp floral dress. Prin’s hair clung to her damp neck as her mind buzzed and boiled as it so often did when she afforded too much time to the lifeless picture. She briefly lowered her scarf to spit on the ground, her eye’s pinned, for one last time, to The Mother’s. The acrid taste of the haze filled her mouth so quickly she had to question whether it was worth it, yes, she answered without hesitation. She lifted the dog eared corner of the banner, that homed the small print ‘Safety for the bargain price of 750,000 Dolts.’ and much smaller ‘Scan your finger here to see if you qualify >>’

She ran her hands over the smooth wall until the tips of her gloves dipped into the familiar groove, she retrieved the key and smoothed the banner back down. The haze had grown so thick now that all that could be seen was the unnatural white of the wall and the many banners that adorned the surface of it. She ran her hand along the dim light cast by the wall until she felt the loose bolt, from the bolt she turned and walked exactly 31 paces north, careful that her paces were equal and straight. She crouched down and fumbled with the key in her thick gloves, the wind whipping around her body and rattling her goggles. The sound of a distant howl whirled around her before being carried away on the torrent of air. She quickened her hands, urging her fingers to find the key hole. She wiped her goggles on the back of her sleeve once more but the residue settled again almost instantly. Another howl, closer now, the sound lingered on the winds with more confidence than before. Prin found the hole and rammed the key in, turning it desperately. She didn’t hear the brittle crack over the wind so she tried once more, the end of the key coming away in her hands.

‘No...’ She turned to the direction of the howl, vibrations disturbed the ground. She banged on the steel door, her fingers crunching inside of their gloves. A low raspy breath was drawn mere paces to her right, the haunting sound of fluid rattling around lungs. The ground exploded in light as the vault door flew open, Prin threw herself inside and the door slammed behind her. She lay on the floor, tearing at the scarf around her mouth, her chest heaving, desperately trying to gulp in oxygen.

‘Should’ve let ‘em have you this time.’ The light was obscured by a small hunched man peering down at Prin. She tore her goggles off and rolled her eyes, holding a hand out for him to help her up. He grabbed her by the forearm and helped her to her feet, though the look of disapproval still stained his old face.

‘He ain’t got long.’

‘I know.’ Prin said quietly.

‘You should’ve been here.’ Prin didn’t respond, she busied herself with removing her outer layers and wiping the grime from any patches of skin that had been exposed.

‘Thank you, Donald.’ She inclined her head to the hatch above them. Donald followed her eyes and looked between her and the hatch shaking his head, his old mouth gnarled in disgust. Prin slipped through the small door beside the ladder and slumped down on her bedroll. She caught a glimpse of herself in the small shard of mirror she had glued to the back of the door and grimaced. She rolled onto her side and grabbed the old hair brush from the box by the door and attempted to run it through her hair. It became entangled and painful by the top of one ear so she yanked it from the knot it had united itself with and tossed it back into the box with a shrug.

‘Prin.’ Rick’s voice croaked over the intercom, it was weak but still impossible to disobey. Prin’s stomach tugged uncomfortably at the sound and her feet began to move to automatically to Rick’s room before she had given them permission.

Rick was laying in his bed, pale and emaciated, his broad chest rose and fell rapidly with shallow breaths.

‘Where have you been?’ Prin felt an unexpected pang of longing for the growl the words would have once held.

‘Scouting.’ She tried to keep her voice level and casual. Rick narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to retort but decided against it, instead he patted the bed beside him, inviting Prin to sit. She tentatively perched on the bed, careful not to touch Rick so as not to cause him any further discomfort.

‘I won’t see morning.’ He said it casually as though he may be late for a meeting, only the rasp in his voice betrayed the severity of the words. Prin’s stomach lurched, painful this time but her face remained stoic, she had known this already. Truthfully, she was surprised. He had fought the infection far longer than anyone else had been able to. ‘You know what you must do?’ Prin nodded but remained silent, she stared down at Rick’s frail hands, the hands that had once built this home in the ground, the home that had saved so many. Her fingers twitched, longing to inch closer, to take Rick’s hand and offer him a small amount of comfort in his dying moments. She folded her hands in her lap instead and met his impatient gaze.

‘Oh, sorry...’ she muttered ‘I must go beyond the black door, beyond the city walls and I must find Jeremy Han in Sanctum West.’ Her words were quiet but sure. Rick turned his head slightly away from Prin, the dim light from the back up generators cast a haunting shadow across his gaunt face. The sickly pallor of his skin had been a constant fixture in the bunker as long as Prin could remember, she had just hoped she would never have to see it worn by Rick. She focused on a crack in the wall behind his bed, the bunker too was beginning to show signs it’s time was coming to an end. Rick was silent for some time, even his breathing calmed and Prin wondered if he had finally left her.

‘There’s more Prin...’ the words sounded strained and Prin leaned forward hopefully ‘I need you to find a locket.’ Rick sighed as though the words had been sitting on his tongue, unable to escape for years. Prin’s shoulders sagged, it was just another job.

‘A locket?’ She kept the hurt from her voice.

‘You will know it when you see it, the shape of a heart, silver and red… it will give you answers.’ Rick turned to look at her, guilt lined his face as if he had confessed his darkest secret.

‘Is that all?’ Bitterness laced her tone and tears pricked at her eyes. Rick held her gaze for a moment before inclining his head and turning away from her. She rose from the bed and paused at the door.

‘Goodbye Father’ but no response came.

She cleared the space between Rick’s room and her own in a few paces and pulled her door across until she heard the quiet click. She gently slid down to the floor, pressed her face into the nook of her elbow and allowed silent tears to wash over the day’s grime.

The night passed in fits of agitated sleep. When Prin awoke her eyes felt swollen and numb, she pinched some life into her cheeks and joined Donald in the kitchen.

‘3.04am’ he said softly. Prin didn’t look at him, she knew what it meant, she nodded casually but swallowed hard. Donald cleared his throat but didn’t say any thing else, for which Prin was grateful. She quickly ate a can of fruit before dressing and grabbing her rucksack for the black door.

She stood before the door, while Donald searched for the long forgotten key, fruitlessly trying to ignore the rapid pounding in her chest. He finally resurfaced, key in hand and set about undoing the years of security the door had been forced to endure. He stepped back and allowed the door to swing backwards, beyond, a musky darkness. He looked at her with a small smile and a kindness his eyes had mostly been devoid of as long as she had known him.

‘Be safe Prin.’ She swallowed again, and nodded at him. Words failing her, wondering how this man, had encapsulated the feelings her father had never been able to. She stepped over the threshold and into the darkness, the cold, damp air crawling across her skin.