The Feral Sentence - Part One (5 page)

“
We have to run,” she said.

My heart was pounding, and my ears were ringing. I wanted to
object, but I couldn’t speak. Nothing came out. She pulled on my
hand, tore through the front of the tent, and ran out toward the
Village’s outer wall.

I heard an arrow whistle right by me and more voices shouted
from afar. I glanced back—something I shouldn’t have done—only to
witness a woman running in all directions, lit on fire with several
arrows protruding from her body. Several others ran to her aid,
attempting to fight the flames with torn pieces of
clothing.

Many tents were engulfed with flames; others were punctured by
arrows. I heard a few more arrows whistle through the air, followed
by shouts of rage. Ellie pulled us against the Village’s barrier,
through which I knew we couldn’t pass. It had been woven together
so tightly, with little to no space in between the materials. I
suddenly realized that the attack was coming from above…from the
trees.

She brought us to a corner, where we knelt in an attempt to
camouflage ourselves with the surrounding greens and browns. She
was still holding onto my hand, squeezing so hard I wondered if my
fingers were breaking, but I couldn’t feel anything.

What felt like hours may have lasted mere minutes. I watched
as wounded women were dragged away from the center of the Village
and into one of the larger wooden cabins at the south end. I could
only presume that this was where the medic resided. The shouting
had faded, only to be replaced by moans and cries of sorrow and
agony. The fires had subsided, and now thick gray smoke hovered
above us all. I felt sick to my stomach.

I turned away from Ellie just in time for acid to come pouring
out of my mouth—burning my throat raw in the process—before I
collapsed.

* *
*

For a moment, I thought I was being attacked.

“
Told you she wasn’t jungle material,” I heard.

I wiped the lukewarm water off my face and away from my eyes,
then glanced up. Trim was standing directly in front of me, with a
shell-shaped piece of bone I could only assume was meant to be used
as a bowl. Behind her were Rocket and Fisher, whose arms were
crossed over their chests.

“
Well, she’s still alive, isn’t she?” Rocket said, eyeing
Fisher.

“
Luck,” Fisher said.

I could tell she wasn’t impressed by the way she gazed down at
me as if I were nothing more than a rock in her way.

Trim raised a hand, silencing them both instantly, before
kneeling down onto one knee in front of me. I suddenly realized
that Ellie wasn’t anywhere near me. Trim must have sensed my panic,
because she smiled, and said, “She’s at the cabin, helping the
injured women.”

I
sighed.

“
You okay?” she asked.

I wasn’t sure whether to nod or cry. I wasn’t sure what to
feel.

“
The Northers attacked us,” she said,
matter-of-factly.

“
W—why?” I asked.

Trim looked away, then shook her head. “That’s just how things
are here. We’re at war.”

“
Yeah, but they’ve never attacked us in broad daylight!” Rocket
shouted.

Trim
grimaced and waved a hand behind her head.

“
Is anyone hurt?” I asked.

I noticed both Fisher and Rocket’s eyes wander away from
mine.

“
Do you wear glasses?” Trim asked me, cutting right through the
silence.

I shook
my head, not quite understanding the relevancy of her
question.

“
Many women on this island do—did,” she said, “when they were
living in the real world.”

“
Like me,” Rocket said, attempting to smile. “Your face is a
bit blurry from here.”

I didn’t understand why they were talking about glasses when
we’d just been brutally attacked by wild women from the north. Why
wasn’t anyone devising a battle plan? What if this attack had been
a warning of sorts—a precursor of something much worse to come. I
wanted to ask, “What’s your point?” but I’d always been taught that
if I had nothing nice to say, it was best I keep my damn mouth
shut. So, I did.

The
stupefied look on my face may have given away my
thoughts.

“
Look,” Trim said, “Eagle’s been hit, and
Murk’s already trying to gather potential archers. She’s the best
we had—the best we
have
,” she corrected.

Rocket refused to make eye contact. I could tell she was
hurting, which made me wonder how long she’d known
Eagle.

“
What are you asking me?” I asked.

“
What’s your vision?” Fisher asked, stepping in
closer.

“
What?”

“
You got twenty-twenty?” Fisher asked.

I hadn’t been to an optometrist in several years. I’d never
bothered to go because my vision had never posed any real problems.
I’d always been one of the lucky kids in class who was able to sit
at the back corner and still make out the many mathematical
equations written on the chalkboard by Mr. Adams.

I
nodded.

Rocket scoffed. “Lucky… Wish I hadn’t played so many video
games growing up.”

Fisher elbowed her. “That ain’t what caused your shit vision,”
she said.

“
Yeah, it is!”

“
Guys, shut up!” Trim hissed. She gazed at me from head to toe,
cocked an eyebrow, and extended an open palm. “Come on, Murk wants
you assessed.”

* *
*

Some women were crying; others excitedly mimicked archers
shooting at invisible targets across the Village. It was clear that
being the object of analysis for the purpose of creating soldiers
hadn’t been voluntary.

“
There hasn’t been an Assessment like this in years,” I
heard.

I
glanced behind me to where the voice had come from. There were two
women facing each other within the lineup, gabbing away about the
history of Kormace Island and the changes brought forth by Murk
over the last ten years.

I stood near the back of the line, behind dozens of other
women, waiting to enter Murk’s cabin. The Assessment was being
performed on an individual basis, which was not only intimidating
but also terrifying. I wasn’t ready to be a fighter. I didn’t want
to be a fighter. I was perfectly content sewing leather together
for the next three years. The only fight I’d ever been in was in
fourth grade, and it had been over a boy stealing my peanut butter
and jelly sandwich.

I was so involved in my memory of young Steven Poulis, I
failed to hear how silent the Village had grown. I peered over one
of the women’s shoulders and toward Murk’s cabin which appeared to
be attracting many eyes.

Murk had stepped outside, surrounded by Trim, Fisher, Flander,
Biggie, and Rocket. There were two other women standing tall on
either side of her, who I assumed were her personal guards. She
walked forward, and the women around me began to kneel. I followed
suit and placed the weight of my body onto one knee.

“
Women of Kormace,” Murk shouted. Her chest heaved and her
fingers wrapped around a spear. “Today came to us all as a
surprise.” She paused for a moment, eyeing each person with such
care and empathy that I realized she thought of her people as
family. I understood how she’d earned everyone’s
respect.

“
A beautiful life was taken,” she said, raising her voice as
she spoke, “but this was not in vain. Today has shown us how
uncivilized and cruel the Northers have become.” She took another
step forward and raised her spear. “We will not allow this to
happen again!”

There were shouts of angst among the women, but all I felt was
fear. Several other spears and weapons were thrown up toward the
sky, and I suddenly felt surrounded by animals. Everyone wanted
blood.

“
We’ve spent years surviving with our divisions of Farmers,
Needlewomen, Medics, and Hunters who have also been our Battle
Women. But today, this changes.”

Another uproar shook throughout the Village.

“
We need more Battle Women to protect our people—to fight for
what’s ours and to defend what we’ve worked so hard
for.”

I was knocked in the back by one of the islanders who was
throwing her fists into the air, shouting nonsense with
determination. I wanted to push her back but knew she’d tear me to
shreds. All she wanted to do was fight.

“
Let the Assessment begin!” Murk said.

I covered my ears to block out the surrounding screams and
cries of motivation to murder. How had I managed to be dropped onto
a remote island that was in the midst of war? Trim’s crew had been
right when they first found me—I wasn’t island material.

I was shoved from side to side a few more times by
overbearingly loud women practicing their fighting skills. They
were tackling each other to the ground and pulling at limbs and
joints, acting like young boys.

“
Hey, stranger,” I heard.

It was Ellie. She stood directly behind me with her arms
crossed over her chest, a grin stretching her face. Although still
upset by the fact that she’d completely abandoned me the moment I
lost consciousness, I was happy to see her.

“
Sorry about earlier,” she said.

I frowned, but all it did was make her smile grow
wider.

“
For the record, I slapped you at least a dozen times before I
left,” she said.

I rubbed my cheek; it was tender to the touch.

“
Thanks for trying,” I said.

“
You’re welcome.” She patted me on the arm. “Couldn’t sit by
your side all day. I knew you’d wake up eventually.”

“
Yeah, well—” I started, even though I had no clue what to
say.

“
So what’s the deal?” she interrupted. “You’re taking part in
the Assessment?”

I
cleared my throat. “Guess so.”

“
Voluntold, not volunteered?” she asked.

“
Pretty much.”

She
nodded, eying the competition around me.

“
It’s a noble status to have, I guess,” she said, “being a
Battle Woman and all.”

I shrugged. I didn’t care about statuses. All I wanted was to
live a quiet life for the remainder of my sentence, and if that
meant being the Omega of the pack, so be it.

“
Is it hard?” I asked.

“
Is what hard?” She tilted her head to the side, scrutinizing
every inch of me.

“
Being a Hunter—a Battle Woman,” I said.

“
For you, probably,” she admitted. “No offense.”

“
What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

She laughed, even though I’d shown no sign of
amusement.

“
You aren’t exactly built for battle,” she said.

I couldn’t argue. I’d never been one for sports, let alone any
type of physical activity. The only exercise I ever performed on a
daily basis was bending over to scoop my cat’s litter box. I’d
always been the scrawny kid in class, and in high school gym class,
I’d once been used as a bench press weight by one of the
guys.

I
sighed.

“
Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Ellie threw an arm around my
shoulders and pulled me in. “Everyone has a purpose.”

I scoffed. I wasn’t buying it.

“
Murk’s desperate for Battle Women,” she said, leaning in
closer. “Her standards aren’t what they usually are.”

Was this supposed to make me feel better? It definitely
didn’t. This was equivalent to offering someone a job not because
of their qualifications, but due to an unexpected layoff and an
immediate requirement to replace the former employee.

It sounded so official—the Assessment—like something so
monumental it could only be experienced through a form of ceremony.
But there was no ceremony. In fact, there was nothing special about
it at all. I watched as women were brought into Murk’s cabin one at
a time, led by two Amazonian-built women on either side. Some women
were escorted from Murk’s cabin within mere minutes; others did not
return.

Everyone stared as one woman came storming out, cursing and
swinging her fists into the air. You could tell she was a fighter
by nature. Why hadn’t Murk selected her? What was she really
looking for?

“
Brone,” I heard.

I swallowed hard. It was finally my turn. I glanced at Ellie,
who was leaning against a tree not far from the cabin. The sun had
begun to set, casting an orange hue across the Village, and I
couldn’t tell whether she was smiling or grimacing at
me.

“
Your turn,” Trim said. She didn’t smile; nor did she make eye
contact.

I walked into Murk’s cabin, holding onto the comforting image
of my immediate release. I wasn’t cut out for this. Surely, Murk
would come to realize this and demand to have me removed from her
presence. But what I saw carried no comfort at all. Murk was
sitting on a wooden bench of sorts, sucking on a wooden stick, and
exhaling a cloud of gray from the corner of her mouth.