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The Outcast and the Survivor: Chapter Four

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He doesn’t answer, but his eyes do, shifting from me to my pack. I don’t know how or why, but this has everything to do with my coming here, or at least with the object I’ve brought with me. All of this death we walk among was caused by me, and that thought nearly brings me to tears.

Wade’s lips tighten as though he wants to say something but thinks better of it. He instead turns around and continues up the stairs like I never asked. I follow him and similarly try to push the thought out of my mind, not that it does much when we emerge into another tomblike room filled with more dead.

A single stairway exits the room at its far side, and we take it, finding after hundreds of labored steps that we have reached the top of one of the fortress’s tallest towers. The view it gives is breathtaking, making me temporarily forget those entombed in the halls beneath us. The tower stands high above the canyon walls, giving a wide view to the north, east, and south.

Sanctuary seems much closer now, less than a day’s journey for certain. The thought of reaching it, however, has lost its appeal for me as I hesitate to imagine what me might find when we get there. Wade tries to reassure me that that is unlikely, but I have a hard time believing him and just assume that he is saying that to try and calm my heightened anxieties.

I feel a little more at peace once darkness fills the world that surrounds us, mostly due to the warm aura created by the lava in the canyons below. At this height, the collective glow all around creates a pool of light that rises from the several canyons within view, casting shadows upward and away from the depths of the trenches. I kneel hunched over the edges of the tower and admire the landscape for a while before finally lying down and forcing myself into a deep, exhausted slumber.

Wade wakes me up in the morning by covering my mouth. I want to jerk away from him, but the grave look he

gives me stops me from reacting. He needs me to immediately realize that I must remain quiet because we are no longer alone.

Very carefully, I ease myself up against the wall behind me and angle my head so that I can see down toward the entrance through a broken portion of the tower. Soldiers, at least a couple dozen, are marching toward the entranceway. Their movement is slow as their eyes lurch around at anything suspicious. Though the light of day has returned, it is still faint, and there remains a lot of darkness to be wary of.

“Who are they?” I say softly to Wade.

“Guards from Sanctuary,” he replies.

“Then we made it,” I give a relieved sigh.

“I wouldn’t be so sure. With what they’re about to discover, they may be no friendlier to us than those who executed this massacre. It might be best if they don’t see—”

“Hiding makes us look like we were a part of this,” I interrupt.

“No,” Wade corrects, “it stops the people in Sanctuary from immediately associating your arrival with death.”

I stop arguing there as the guilt I felt last night comes back.

“Then what do we do?”

Wade pauses.

“We wait and hope they leave. There is no secret escape from these canyon forts, at least as far as I know. The people who died in here had no other choice because they were trapped.”

A long silence

follows, interrupted periodically by the chatter and movement of the soldiers. I wait nervously in my spot, my eyes focused on the entrance hopeful that the soldiers will leave and my ears fixed on the stairs behind me fearful that the sound of footsteps will begin echoing up toward us.

After a long while, another unit of soldiers emerges from a canyon to the north. Wade, who up to this point has remained idle, becomes more attentive as they approach. They are dressed in the same sort of strange armor and uniforms that the others are wearing, but something about them seems to agitate him, perhaps the tall soldier leading at their front.

“Who is he?” I ask.

“Severin,” Wade replies tersely, as though simply saying the name produces a sour taste in his mouth. “He’s captain over the forces that protect Sanctuary.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” I suggest, sensing Wade’s obvious displeasure at seeing him.

He doesn’t respond, nor do I get the impression that I want to hear the answer, so I just watch as Severin ushers his men across the bridge and into the fortress. My unease worsens with each passing moment. I gaze at the top of the stairway, anticipating the inevitable sound of footsteps, which eventually begins clattering up the tower. They are coming.

I look around to see if there is some place we could hide, somewhere I might have missed, but nothing stands out. The top of the tower is simply a large platform covered with stone roofing, something that seems strange since the only covered towers in Kalepo are decorative ones. Such an extravagance feels altogether out of place here, that is unless this fortress needs protection from both the ground and the air.

The thought frightens me a little as I recall the two animals we saw fighting after we crossed the Lethe. Considering the rich diversity of the plains, anything seems possible, including the existence of great winged creatures. I heard many myths in Kalepo about flying beasts, not that I ever believed them. Now, I’m not quite sure what I believe.

Wade gestures at me to come where he is, and I hurry over, kneeling behind him at the far side of the tower. Once I’m in place, he situates himself even more in front of me so that I can barely see the arched exit to the stairs. He is just placing the palm of his hand over the handle to his gun when Severin and two other soldiers emerge from below.

Severin immediately steps back when he realizes that he is not alone, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he looks past Wade right at me, studying me like he doesn’t know what to make of me. Finally, he opens his mouth, but his voice still lacks any semblance of emotion.

“This is the girl?” he asks, his eyes shifting to Wade.



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