The Offensive

I do n0t mind dirt…at least the smell of it. It’s the scent that wakes me up in the morning and it’s starting to grow on me. Laying there, I breathe it in, feeling my skin stretch against my ribs which reminds me of how hungry we all are, day after day. But, today, I’m not that hungry…maybe I’m used to it.

“Get up!” shouts Jayva. She’s my rack-mate – we live in barracks, although they are nothing like barracks…we were provided old, rotted doors that lay on the ground to act as beds, high enough to delay the bugs rather than prevent them. We are surrounded by thin walls made of junkyard-looking pieces of wood, roofed with holed, sagging tarps. “You know that’s what they want. For us to spit on their rules. They’ll shove us past the barrier, Rael.”

They…the Faith. The only people that stayed as a group. My parents were in it.

“Sorry.” I sit up to the same stiffness in my back and neck I would normally feel thirty years from now.

We do not know what is passed the barrier, not anymore. Well, at least most of us do not. The barracks are protected by a fortress of sticks wrapped in barb that are in front of stacked cinderblocks, growing upwards every day. Higher and higher. High enough to protect us from what’s out there, so they say.

My sister would have loved this to an extent, the outdoorsy type she was. Come to think of it, I think she could have survived anywhere in the world at any time…desert, snow, rain, whatever. Not me, though. I never wanted to be outside, which is exactly why I’m here and she’s not. I wouldn’t survive past the barrier, not alone.

I’m lucky to be here – to be alive.

Not many people are – alive I mean…especially at my age. It was The Offensive – what they titled it anyway – that changed everything. What ruined everything. Initially it was a side note, an afterthought, but it boiled over and eventually became uncontainable. Including myself, everyone began to stress out…this came out of nowhere and was unprovoked. The way people were – on edge and ready to combat nearly every word or act.

At first, people just argued. Then it turned into a heated disagreement. From there, it grew…it festered. You couldn’t think straight. All you knew was, you had to do something about it, aggressively.

Along with few others, I was able to keep my thoughts and actions mild. I avoided conversation…even eye contact. I would rather appear as a coward than combative and those that did would survive.

Small disputes became fatal reactions. People were breaking into establishments, taking what they pleased, and if anyone dared get in their way, that would be it – small, explosive feuds and one of the people, if not both, would be gone. Dead. Others started with a simple disagreement online, but with advancements in technology rushing the future, some would become so bothered, they would physically locate their disagree-er and end the argument for good.

My family had done their best to keep me away from all of it. My sister especially, Jamie, who was two years ahead of me. It’s funny, my fading memory of her still clings to this sort of call we used to get each other’s attention – similar to a laser, the sound would carry and we did it all the time and it worked because I always knew it was her.

I do think about them sometimes, my family. I couldn’t stop at first, and as Jayva and I slide our stale boots on to get ready for our day of repetition, a bitter image of my family slips into my mind.

That locket. Just as Jayva looks the other way, I lay on my stomach, facing the nearest wall as if I am praying. Carefully, I scoop a handful of dirt from beneath the wall where there’s a tiny hole I had dug out. In that hole is where I keep the heart-shaped locket – the thing I am not supposed to have and the reason my parents were thrown from our community as hypocrites.

My mom had kept it as a memory, a keepsake, and it kept her going…it was my grandmother’s before they’d taken her in the first public riot. And, from my mom to me, like it’s being handed down through survival.

But, it’s metal, which is something we are not supposed to possess, other than the weapons bin. They had caught her praying over it one night after someone had delivered the rumor, backstabbing my family. Before pushing my family through the barrier to exile, the deal was, only one of us could stay. And that one was me. There is no way I would survive out there on my own and my family knew that.

Still lost in thought, I place the locket in my pants, proceeding to get up and join Jayva at the doorway. I push our shaggy, cloth-door to the side and am greeted with a far-too-bright sun. I turn my head as if I had just seen something that I did not want to. Living in open land is not forgiving when it comes to the sun. I miss the scrapers and huge buildings of the city.

The first whistle goes off, meaning there’s only a few moments to get to the podium. At that, Jayva and I take off through the narrow, dusty lanes of the community.

If it hasn’t been noticed by now, we do not have much. From our sleeping arrangements to our clothes, we all have the same modest stuff. It was the Stipulations of Value that had been developed to keep us all equal, no one was better than the next. And my parents were a major part of this – which is why they’d been exiled as hypocrites for having the locket. The truth was, we gave everything away to people that wanted it, just to avoid any form of confrontation. Once this happened, we were safer than those fighting over the valuables. Eventually, no one came around and as far as we knew, there’d been no one left. That’s when we started to build.

Jayva and I shuffle to a stop and look around, nodding to each other approvingly since we did not arrive last. Being the youngest in the community, like Jayva said, we had eyes on us. Especially me, because of what happened with my family. People our age were known for irresponsibility and laziness – two things that were not tolerated here, not like it had been before. And not just us, they were eager for anyone slack and they’ve proven to act quickly, without hesitation. Food was limited. Having only a few brave gatherers – the only job that wasn’t involuntary – we didn’t need some weak, lazy person gulping down food that producers needed. The gatherers were the strongest of us and needed the energy. I agreed with that.

“Marx…Hansley…you’re on food preparation!” shouts our leader, Liam, from the podium. “Maggs…Golfin…water distillation!”

This would go on until everyone would be assigned a job for the day. Ours typically was Scraps. “Rael…Jayva…” He laughs to himself and shakes his head. “Scraps.” He slides two large, thick bags towards us.

Heads down, we grab the bags and throw them over our shoulders. Scraps…we just pick things up that are not supposed to be there. In a community without much, it’s mainly bones from food. Disgusting really, especially when Jayva and I are competing with these vicious vultures. It’s a job no one wants, but must get done each day, quickly, so more mangy animals do not show up. We need to finish by half-day so the distributors can dispose of the scraps. Each job has its purpose. The scraps are laid out as bait for the gatherers to hunt.

Each day, we start our route near the barrier to sneak a peek at the gatherers with their machetes, bow and arrows, hammers, and slings – all strapped to their bodies like they are going to war. Part of me wishes I would want to be a gatherer.

They and the distributors are the only ones that have permission to leave the community. The only way they can get out is after some of our strongest people push a huge piece of concrete out of the way…pushing this concrete is their only job since it deflates them for the rest of the day.

“Get on with it, kids!” shouts Liam, as if he just sits there all day and commands the rest of us. All equal? Sure.

We snake through each lane of the community, the sun scalding the back of our necks. It’s not like it’s a long walk, but the heat really gets to you, especially once the sack gets filled…although that happens rarely.

“Do you miss them? Your family?” Jayva asked. Come to think of it, we never really talked about it.

“Sometimes, Jamie mainly.”

“What do you think happened to them?” Javya continues.

Emotionless, I answer, “Not sure. I guess they’re gone. I mean, there’s no one left right?”

“I don’t know,” Jayva responds then looks ahead.

“How about you? Did you have family?” I cannot believe it has not come up. I guess we never really talk.

She gazes ahead and I can’t determine whether she did not hear me or if she is unsure how of to answer. After a moment, she quietly says, “Liam killed them, my mom and brother…in the middle of the night.”

My heart dropped. “He did?”

“Your parents tried to stop him, but the other leaders held them back.” Jayva shakes her head and bites her bottom lip. “He killed them because my mom had a piercing. It’s not like she could take it out…with infections…we have no medicine.”

I only listen as we near the podium, completing our route.

“My brother forced me to stay with you, but I crept out. I saw it hap –”

“Your through, already?” Liam looks down at us with a demeaning expression.

“Yes,” we say in unison as we remove the bags from our shoulders and aim to toss them on the podium.

Just as I rear back to toss, my bag gets caught on my pants. I shake it a couple times. It comes loose, but in that moment I remember what the bag could have gotten stuck on and it appears…visible to everyone. It shimmers in the daylight as it falls to the ground. The heart shaped locket.

We all freeze. I look to Liam and then back to Jayva.

“Rael, run!” Jayva screams.

I swipe the locket from the ground and sprint in the direction of the concrete wall. Liam leaps down. I look back to see him trip over Jayva’s outstretched leg. “Why, you…” He shouts at her.

I move as fast as I can, but can feel him gaining on me.

My eyes focus on the concrete wall that has been moved away for the distributors to return for the scraps.

Tears start welling up, I’m scared…horrified. What if he catches me? What if I do make it through the barrier? How long will I last?

“I’m not letting you get out, I’ll kill you my –”

A loud sound, as if someone had fired a laser, echoes just beyond the barrier. I know that sound! My heart skips as I look ahead to see a small vehicle without wheels, just hovering in the air. There is someone looking my way behind a tinted windshield. She’s wrapped in furr. “Duck, Rael!” Jamie yells.

She pulls out a black handgun. I somersault forward rolling towards her.

It goes off.

I look back to see Liam grasping his neck, falling to his knees.

“Get in, Rael.” Jamie reaches for my arm.

As we pull away, I look back just in time to see Jayva lying on the ground, waving to me.