The Feral Sentence - Part One (3 page)

“
And Murk is your leader?” I asked.

Trim was
suddenly standing in front of me, her cold blade pressed against
the base of my throat.

“
Yours too,” she said, glaring. “Or would you rather go find
the Northers?”

I
swallowed hard.

“
That’s not what Brone meant—” Rocket said.

“
Shut up,” Trim ordered. I felt the sharp edge of her knife
press harder into my skin. “Well?” she asked.

“
No,” I said. “No. I just meant… I was just trying to
understand the hierarchy. I don’t know how things are run here… I’m
sorry if I…”

She
suddenly pulled away and stored her weapon.

“
Good,” she said. “Just making sure.”

I noticed a satisfied smile curve at the corners of her lips,
but I failed to see the humor in her reaction. My heart was racing,
and my mouth was completely dry. Why was I being treated like the
enemy? I wasn’t here to harm anyone.

“
Don’t take it personally,” Flander said, tapping me hard on
the back. “She wouldn’t be a good leader if she didn’t instill fear
every once in a while.”

I resentfully accepted this advice and decided it was best to
continue following, despite my anger toward Trim. We continued
through the jungle for a while, Fisher and Eagle alternating turns
pulling the boar.

My legs
were about to give out when I finally noticed light being cast
through the trees. As we moved closer, the light expanded, and I
realized we were exiting the forest—or at least, nearing an
opening. Had we crossed the island? My feet were throbbing and my
muscles burned. I wanted to collapse. As we moved closer to the
light, I realized that the brightness was not being cast by the
sun, but rather, by its reflection over a beautiful bed of green
water. The water was surrounded by some of the tallest trees I’d
ever seen—walls built of greenery that formed a natural
enclosure.

A cool
mist floated in the air. I parted my lips, allowing several
droplets to land on the tip of my tongue. I swallowed hard, my
throat sticking, and I wanted nothing more than to dive into the
water and drink until my stomach blew. I’d never felt so thirsty in
my life.

A
consistent static echoed in the distance—the sound of water
crashing against water. I knew we’d reached a waterfall. We stepped
out into the opening; it was encircled by tall trees and a rocky
surface, and I immediately realized we weren’t alone.

Surrounding the large circular shaped body of emerald green
water were women with similar attributes to those who’d found me.
They were wild looking with their tangled hair, their tattooed
arms, and their suntanned skin. The ages varied—from adolescents to
elderly who required assistance with their bodily
movements.

There were women skinning animals and removing their bloody
body parts for meat and other materials; women working with some
type of contraption in the sand, which appeared to be a handmade
water filtration system; women sewing leather to construct clothing
and shelter; women chopping away at logs of wood; and women working
the earth, cultivating and planting a multitude of fruits and
vegetables—a society working together to ensure all basic needs
were obtainable.

We moved in closer, and I felt several eyes turn my way. These
women stood tall, their chests heaved and their shoulders drew back
as if preparing to face a potential threat. I didn’t blame
them—they didn’t know me, after all. I could have easily been a
Norther or even one of the outcasts, as Fisher had
explained.

A young girl, maybe in her early twenties, was the first to
approach me. She had frizzy, dirty blonde hair that was tied back
and a fresh cut across her lower lip. She smiled, and I knew it was
genuine. She reached out her hand, as did I, but there was no time
for introductions.

She was instantly propelled into the air by a woman twice her
size, who I could tell ate enough food to feed an army. She had
rolls on her arms, her belly, and her legs. I couldn’t help but
wonder why she was so obese while everyone else was so muscular and
lean.

“
You don’t talk to da newcomers, stupid girl,” she said, her
ugly face contorted as she eyed me with disgust from head to toe.
She waddled away with such confidence that I couldn’t help but
wonder if she was Murk.

Rocket
chuckled. “Welcome to paradise.”

CHAPTER 3

There was no Hogwart’s sorting hat.

In fact, there was nothing magical about it at all. She just
sat there against the leather of her ruling chair, gazing into me
so intently I felt as though I’d be billed for the psychiatric
evaluation upon exit.

She smiled, and there was something genuine about it. She
didn’t look menacing or mistrustful, yet there was something
intimidating about her. She had crystal blue eyes and short silver
hair that looked white in comparison to her suntanned face. There
was red paint, or blood, smeared across her cheeks, and she wore a
necklace made of sharp canine teeth. She leaned back in her chair,
then crossed her legs and interlocked her fingers over her
knees.

I had been led underneath the large waterfall, through a damp
cave that smelled of mould, and into a room illuminated by
wall-mounted torches. I’d been told to get on my knees and bow the
moment I saw her, and I realized then that the bully I’d run into
earlier had not been Murk. This woman was Murk.

“
Welcome,” she said.

I was told to stand, and I did so—for what felt like
hours—being scrutinized by the leader of the island. I realized the
power she had over me. With a click of her fingers, she could have
me dragged away from their society and fed to the sharks. It was
best to remain silent until asked to speak.

“
What’s your name?” she asked.

“
L—Lydia. Lydia Brone.”

“
Why are you here?”

I swallowed hard. I wanted Trim, Rocket, Fisher, Eagle,
Biggie, or Flander to speak on my behalf, but the only other person
here was Trim who was standing silently at the cavern’s entry
point, arms crossed over her chest and eyes focused away from
us.

“
Well, the government—” I started.

She
waved a hand and shook her head.

“
I know all about the government. What did you do? What
crime?”

“
M—murder,” I said.

“
Cold-blooded?”

I shook
my head. “It was an accident.”

“
I don’t need the details,” she said.

“
What did you do?” she asked.

I wasn’t sure what she was referring to. I’d just explained to
her what I’d been convicted of.

“
Well… I… Um. It was a complicated situation. It all happened
really fast.”

She cut
me short again with a wave of her hand.

“
What was your profession?”

“
Oh. Cashier. Local flea market.”

She smirked. I immediately knew that I wouldn’t be of much use
to her.

“
Are you strong?” she asked.

I knew I wasn’t the toughest of girls, but I needed to sell
myself.

“
I’m not weak,” I said.

“
Ever been in a fight?”

“
Does fourth grade count?” I asked.

“
No.”

“
Then no,” I said.

I wondered if I should have lied, but there was something
about the way her eyes gazed into me that made me want to reveal
only truths. If I lied, she would somehow know.

“
What about your parents? What do they do?”

I
hesitated.

“
Well, my mom doesn’t work, and my dad… Well, I’m not sure… I
haven’t spoken to him in years.”

She nodded slowly.

“
My dad worked in a warehouse—when he was around, that is,” I
continued.

She shook her head. “That’s fine. What do you like to do for
fun?” she asked. “Any hobbies?”

I felt like I was being interviewed for a salary-less job. How
many more questions did she have up her sleeve? And how did my
hobbies have anything to do with my life as a prisoner on Kormace
Island? It wasn’t like I’d be given a flat-screen TV with a cable
box that fed off some magical source of electricity. My hobbies
really didn’t matter.

I
shrugged. “I like to cook.”

“
Anything else?”

“
I like to read.”

She was
still staring at me, and I knew she was unimpressed.

“
I like beading and bracelet-making. I don’t earn money doing
it, but they make nice gifts.”

No
response.

“
Look, I’m just the average person. I spend most of my time
watching TV, which is obviously something I won’t be doing anytime
soon. I have a cat at home, but you know how cats are… pretty
independent. I don’t take him to the park. I don’t have many
friends or a social life. I’m nothing special—I’m sorry. I know
you’d rather have a doctor land on the island, but that’s not me. I
don’t have any special talents, but I’m a quick learner, and I’ll
try anything.”

I hadn’t meant to ramble for so long, but I couldn’t bare
another minute of her analytical gaze. It made me feel not only
judged but completely unworthy of living among the other women on
this island. She had a way of making me feel comfortable while also
completely helpless and in need of her guidance.

“
Trim,” she said.

Trim
turned her way.

“
Have her join the Needlewomen.”

Needlewomen? Who were they? I’d wanted more information, but I
knew I wouldn’t receive it. Murk simply smiled and nodded at me as
a way of saying good-bye. I met Trim at the entryway, and she led
me out through the cavern.

“
What’re Needlewomen?” I finally asked her, but she ignored
me.

The sound of the waterfall crashing into water grew louder as
we approached the exit. I would have had to yell to communicate, so
I remained quiet and allowed Trim to lead the way. We slid out
through the side of the waterfall, and to my surprise, all eyes
were on me—the women working in the open space and around the water
stood still, eyes fixed toward the waterfall. What were they
looking at?

Trim led me up a crooked path, away from the fall. I realized
then that my paranoia was warranted. They were all staring at
me—watching me. We finally reached the path’s peak—an elevated
surface that sat on a rocky wall. A cliff, almost.

There was an unlit torch jabbed into the earth of the
platform. Trim wrapped her fingers around it, almost ceremonially,
and threw her fist into the air before shouting over the people,
“Brone! Needlewoman!”

There were shouts of anger and resentment and then shouts of
joy, but I couldn’t tell which were coming from where. I scanned
the crowd in hopes of spotting one of the women I knew, but I
couldn’t see them.

I was led back down the cliff, alongside the waterfall and
through the crowd of wild women. I received several glares, most of
which I could tell were attempts at intimidation.

“
This way,” Trim said.

We approached a group of women situated farther away from the
body of water in the forest’s cool shade.

“
Savia, this is Brone, your new girl.”

There was a woman—Savia, I presumed—sitting against the root
of a tree with her head tilted back against its coarse bark. Around
her were several women who’d been sewing a variety of items, most
of which I could tell were garments, but they all stopped to look
at me.

Savia smiled at me. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.
She seemed good-hearted, yet I knew no one on this island could be
trusted. She had frizzy silver hair tied in a braid at the side of
her head and emerald colored eyes. There was a pink, unsightly scar
above her right eyebrow that took attention away from her crooked
teeth.

“
Grab a needle, m’girl,” she said.

I glanced at the woman nearest me. She must have sensed my
discomfort, because she threw her head sideways, signaling me to
sit beside her. Trim walked away, and I wondered how long it would
be until I saw her again. Although Trim and her group of women had
basically kidnapped me, I felt as though I’d made new friends only
to have them immediately taken away.

“
You ever sew before?” Savia asked.

I shook
my head.

“
Jeena ‘ere will show you,” she said, pointing a loose finger
at the woman next to me.

“
Hi, Jeena,” I said.

She tried to smile, the corner of her lip twitching, but she
didn’t respond or look at me.

“
You can talk to her all y’like, but she won’t talk back,”
Savia said.

I glanced at Jeena, whose eyes were fixed on the ground. She
seemed like a sweet girl—like someone who wouldn’t hurt a fly. She
was very petite, light skinned, and frail looking, and all I wanted
to do was protect her.

“
Got a bad infection in her mouth ’while back,” Savia said.
“Had to take out most of ’er teeth and part of ’er
tongue.”