16. Sawyer #2
I watch her face pinch as she considers my words. Always so considerate, so hungry to learn. She might be a little loony, but out of all the women I’ve met in this compound, she’s most tolerable.
Zephyr doesn’t say a word as we approach the back of the large crowd peering up at a pale young woman with red-rimmed eyes and greasy hair.
She looks like she’s trying to smile but is in too much pain to be joyful.
Thorne stands by her side, an uncharacteristic lightness in his stance while Aurelius converses with a teary-eyed middle-aged woman.
She has the same color hair as the girl, similar facial features. They must be mother and daughter.
“So how are things with the girl?” Zephyr asks after a few minutes of silence.
I peer ahead into the forest as Keepers approach like a pack of wolves strutting from the forest in the direction I’ve spent countless hours exploring.
One of them has the coiled weapon I’ve seen before, only now it’s elongated and slung over his back.
Oh, it’s a whip. A metal whip with a handle that looks like more than just a handle, like it’s got a button on it. An electric whip. Odd choice of weapon, but all right.
Now where the fuck did they come from?
“Sawyer?” Zephyr prompts, placing a hand on my shoulder. I’ve counted fifteen Keepers before I turn to her.
“Hmm?”
They came from the mines, the money. There’s no other explanation.
“You okay?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I nod and flick my gaze at Aurelius who’s stepping onto the stage.
Their arrival must be his cue to begin. By the look of this crowd of several hundred people, the whole compound must be in attendance.
“I was just wondering where they came from.” I nod in the distance at the Keepers. “And why they have weapons.”
Zephyr doesn’t follow my gaze. Her eyes stay locked on mine like she knows exactly what I’m talking about. “They guard the mines.”
She speaks matter-of-factly, but the way she watches me suggests she knows what I’m thinking. I face forward as Aurelius calls for our attention.
He raises his arms as he breathes in, yoga-style. “Brothers… Sisters… We gather here today to celebrate the many bountiful years of our sister, Elsa. Because of her, our society has grown. We’ve prospered. We’ve been filled with her love and drank from her joy.”
Drank from her joy?
“Is everyone here?” I whisper to Zephyr.
Her eyes straight ahead, she nods.
The girl on stage beams as Aurelius turns to her.
Her smile is so girlish, I peg her to be no more than sixteen despite her youthful glow missing.
She wears a silver dress that might be pretty if it wasn’t swallowing pure skin and bones, and it’s confusing.
The color should make her an Elder, but there’s no way that’s the case.
“Father will never allow you to visit the mines,” Zephyr says in a low voice that draws me to her as Aurelius yammers on.
I stare into pretty green eyes and wait for her to continue.
“He doesn’t trust you,” she whispers. “For the record, I don’t feel the same. You should be given everything required to complete your task. The girl’s purification ceremony is in less than a week, and we’re all counting on your success.”
I hold back a smile, instead drawing my brows together. “Is there anything that could change his mind? It isn’t the end of the world, but I do believe it would make my job easier if I could give the girl a tour… Maybe even have a few Dregs around looking especially somber.”
Zephyr looks off serious for a moment, her sweet eyes squinted, her lips pursed. “I could talk to him.”
“Are you sure? He won’t punish you for it, will he?”
Her head doesn’t move. Neither do her lips. Which is fair enough because it was a silly question.
My head turns back to the show at the sound of a heavy machine being rolled in front of the stage.
I squint at the metal positioned just in front of the woman.
It’s like a vertical tube, yellow paint chipped around the sides.
There’s an opening up top and a spout that leads toward the crowd who are backing up.
It looks like a woodchipper.
“What is that?” I ask, unable to help myself. Hairs stand up on my arms as Zephyr and I move back with the crowd. She doesn’t answer, and I think it’s because she’s still thinking about our conversation, but when I look over at her, her head is bowed. Everyone’s head is bowed.
“Let us thank our sister,” Aurelius calls.
The crowd chants in unison words I can’t understand. I’ve been all over the world and can’t tell you what language this is.
“What are we doing?” I ask Zephyr, but she just keeps on chanting.
“In another life!” Aurelius calls.
All heads rise as words slip off their tongues like they rehearsed it in choir. “In another place!”’
Thorne hands the woman a bouquet of lilies that she walks to the machine. It whirs loudly as it’s turned on, and finally, finally, I get what we’re here to see.
My breath catches as the woman closes her eyes and steps into the woodchipper. It makes a crunching sound that makes my gut suck into my body, and when red, thick sludge shoots out the bottom, I double over with nausea.
“Sawyer…” Zephyr grazes my shoulder with a light touch I can’t help but shake off.
I can smell it. I can smell the gore.
I cover my mouth only to slap it on my knee as I vomit in the grass. Several people turn to watch. There’s a low murmur that’s hardly audible over the sound of the machine and my dry-heaving.
“Are you okay?”
Zephyr rubs my back, her concern for me making me even sicker. There are no screeches for the young woman who just ended her own life, no sounds of grief. It’s the outsider puking that has their attention.
This is normal for them.
My hand collects sweat as I rub my hair back.
The woman’s red eyes. Her pale face.
She was ill.
“Sawyer, please, stand up.” Zephyr bends so she can whisper toward my ear. I hear her voice from the first night I found a baby abandoned in the forest.
Our society only has room for those who bring us value. That’s how we stay strong.
They have no room for the elderly. Or the sick. Or the babies.
“Sorry,” I force out, wiping my bottom lip. “I think I ate something bad.”
Zephyr sighs and helps me up. I can’t get away fast enough as she walks me back along the path, her hand on my back like I’m a child who still has use.
“It must be tough getting used to the food here,” she says, her voice sweet but cautious. A warning of sorts. Like she’s scared I’d speak out about what I just saw.
For most of the walk back, I hunch just to keep up the food poisoning appearance that can’t possibly fool anyone. Zephyr tries to take my hand, but I pull it away. I don’t want her to feel it shaking.
My mind doesn’t stop spinning. And I realize this is why I haven’t done a better job of learning the cult’s practices. This is why I’ve let things go over my head.
Because I don’t want to know. I really don’t want to know anything that goes on in this godforsaken compound.
I think about the girl who just…
I think about Wilcox’s initiation.
I think about the babies.
And though I’ve promised myself I wouldn’t, I think about Luna. The more days I spend with her, the colder I get.
She’s a job. A distraction from a job, really.
It isn’t my fault that she’s here. I didn’t kidnap her. I didn’t choose her. Whatever fate lies in front of her is out of my control and out of my conscience.
I’ve told myself this a hundred times. Every time she sleeps facing me, her face soft and guiltless, I flip over. Every time she tries to start a conversation, I steer it away from anything personal, anything revealing.
I hold her hand, but I would never let her hold mine.
I kiss her lips, but the moment I feel her relax, I pull away.
I am her ‘initiator’ only because I must be. I’m doing this only because I have no other choice. I promised myself I would never slide back into what could even be considered human trafficking, and as far as I’m concerned, I haven’t broken that promise.
This is fake. It’s pretend. It doesn’t count.
I don’t want to know what will happen to Luna when the game is over. I truly don’t.
But I’m caught in a moment of weakness when Zephyr and I reach the training house. She waits for me to walk inside, a frown on her face, concern in her eyes.
“I need to ask you something,” I say, knowing I shouldn’t. Knowing I shouldn’t. I’m transported back in time to a year ago, thinking about all the decisions I could’ve made differently. All the ways I could’ve protected my island if only my conscience hadn’t gotten in the way.
I’ve been accused of being a sociopath, and though I resent it, I wish it was true. Morality is a curse.
Zephyr stares at me patiently.
I take a breath and ask the one question I promised myself I wouldn’t.
“When I’m finished with the girl… What’s next for her? What’s a purification ceremony?”