He walked away with the rest of them, looking over his shoulder like a wounded animal, like he expected me to follow him.
We were left staring silently at the wall that encapsulated our worst fears. The fear that we had not come to a better place and this was exactly the same as where we had come from. The thought hurt a great deal, pushing old memories I had barely buried back up to the surface.
Matthew stood with us for a while, and then broke the quietness. “It’s not what you think.”
“You don’t know what we think,” I snapped without thinking. It felt like this was all a trick. The very small amount of trust I had afforded Matthew sprung back to me like it was attached to elastic. The need to protect my family, my new family, whose bonds were tenuous as it was, was overwhelming. I took a deep breath.
“I’ll go with Matthew. I’ll check it out. Then I’ll come back for you. If I’m not back in thirty minutes, leave,” I said, trying to sound sure of myself, but I was shaking as I talked.
“No,” Joseph said. His eyes were panicked, wide and pricked. I felt the same way at the idea of us being separated but this seemed like a decent compromise and I didn’t trust anyone to do it other than myself.
“It’s not up to you,” I said. “We’ll vote. Out of everyone here, who is the most suspicious, the least trusting?” All eyes were on me. Not proud, but satisfied, I continued, “Then it should be me.”
I kissed Joseph gently, his lips were still, set so hard it was like kissing his elbow. “Take care of Orry. I won’t be long,” I said. He didn’t respond.
I turned away from the group and put my hand on Matthew’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”
As we peeled away from them and made our way up the incline to the great wall, I wasn’t afraid. Apprehensive maybe, but not afraid. I was half hoping I was going to hate it and we could leave. Return to the woods. Matthew’s mouth was turned up at the corners. Clearly he was amused by our behavior, which was infuriating. He didn’t understand where we came from. He didn’t understand the kind of dread that a walled-in town would fill us with. A little ball of hate that had been seething in the pit of my stomach grew a little. The Superiors had damaged us all.
We were both quiet, just the crunch of our boots in the snow. I felt hot under the sun. Hot in anticipation. Slipping and falling as we struggled to find a foothold near the base, Matthew gripped the bricks of the wall and swung himself into a small hollow. Holding out his hand, I took it and he pulled me in. There was an iron gate, which was already propped open with a rock, and dark, unlit stairs wound upwards. Matthew flicked on a torch and I followed him up the narrow staircase. Everything was wonky, like there was little thought put into how the stones might fit together but somehow they just did. It was dusty and smelled stale.
We came out of a hole and stood on top of the wall. I looked down at my hands and traced the letters carved into the rock, ‘LH was here 1983’. There were hundreds of similar carvings. Ancient scrawl, the only thing left of a civilization now gone. Another one caught my eye: EV loves RJ. These people were long dead but their little dedication of love survived. It was kind of sweet. I remember someone got caught scratching words into the wall of Ring Four. They had their fingers crushed with a stone while everyone watched.
I expected to see other people up there but the survivors were nowhere.
The wall was very different to the Rings, which was a relief. It was as wide as a road, a low barrier on either side. And when I stood and surveyed the greater area, the sight baffled my eyes.
It looked like the spine of some gigantic creature that had laid itself gently across the hills and breathed its last breath. The world grew up around its remains. The tail of the monster was endless. Curving and following the hills until it disappeared to a line and then a point. Sandy grey stone perforated the forest but seemed a part of it.
Matthew was grinning, hands on hips, so pleased with himself that I wanted to slap him.
“Where’s the settlement?” I asked. Looking over the edge of the wall, all I could see were trees—the place was thick with them. I couldn’t for the life of me see any signs of people, no houses, no light, just woods. It was like Gwen and the others had stepped into the clouds.
This was all a big joke to him but I didn’t get it. Then he walked over to the edge of the wall and pointed to a small, metal disc that was stuck to the parapet. When I observed the sides more closely, I could see they lined the whole side of the wall that faced away from the train station. I walked back over to the opposite side and waved at Joseph and the others but they didn’t respond. Then I yelled. Heads moved in my direction but they still couldn’t see me. Confused, I walked back to Matthew.
He took my hand and placed it in front of one the metal discs. The sky flashed and a shaft of a view appeared before me. Roofs of houses nestled in amongst the trees. Little cabins with light-colored, wooden shingles covered in snow, narrow roads with people walking along them. I gasped and then I smiled, big and full, the grin splitting my face. I removed my hand and the view was replaced with the woods again. Then I covered another one, revealing a slightly different view that was connected to the one before like a sliding puzzle. Further out, past the wooden shacks, I could see a city in the distance. The most important thing I couldn’t see was another wall. The land was divided by the great structure but not surrounded by it.
Matthew explained. “This was once called the Great Wall. It spans most of the border between Mongolia and China. We didn’t build it, but it was perfect for our needs. I think it’s at least a few thousand years old.”
I wasn’t really listening. I was thinking of those little cabins surrounded by trees. Each looked different, each one was handmade, not handed over, with a character of its own.
“How do we get down there?” I asked, jumping a little, curiosity sending shivers of excitement through my whole body.
“There are some stairs a bit further along. We just walk down.”
“Then what?” I felt confused, but only wanted to know more, the instinctual runner in me didn’t kick in this time.
“You’ll have to go through quarantine and then you can choose a place to live.”
“Ok,” I said excitedly. “Show me the stairs.”
Matthew showed me the entry point, a neat set of metal stairs held up by scaffolding, which led to ground level on the other side of the wall, and then we went back to the others.
They had taken some convincing, aside from Joseph, who still wanted to walk head first into danger without a second thought. Watching him dipping his shoulders and trying to squish his hulking form up the narrow stairs was amusement enough. Now we were all standing up there—they looked so confused. Apella stared this way and that, as I had, looking for evidence of people. Alexei blinked like a mole staring at the sun. Deshi distractedly squeezed Hessa’s chubby little arm too tight and he started crying.
It was mean, but I couldn’t help myself. They followed me and we walked along the wall a way. I’d asked Matthew to be quiet and let me explain it to them but I hadn’t told him what I was planning to do.
Without warning, I stood on a parapet, talking as I walked. “It’s pretty fascinating really, this wall was here way before the war, before the Woodlands, all of it.” Jumping from parapet to parapet and back again, I pretended to lose my balance, teetering and flailing my arms. I stepped off the wall, concealing myself behind the projection that kept the town camouflaged. Crouching on the first step, I snickered as I heard them scream and gasp. Then I popped my head back up, my body cut in half by the projection, like half of my body was missing and I was a floating torso in the sky.