The Orchard.

''Stop!''

A commanding masculine voice ordered. It was coming from behind me.

I froze in fear and tried not to let the precious pears fall from my folded up shirt. Blood drained from my face, and my lips trembled with terror. Anyone caught stealing food from the orchards could be shot on sight. No questions asked. No mercy shown. A thief was a thief.

I knew the risks, and so I had set out just before dawn, and climbed the stone wall in the half light, hoping I could go in a and out before anyone could spot me. If I returned home with nothing, we would go hungry again until I could steal or forage something else.

''Turn around.'' The guard spoke clearly and with confidence, but I could detect no malice there. Most guards enjoyed the power, and they liked to show it. Dreadful crimes against women were illegal, but brushed under the carpet. The Leader was a merciless misogynist, and women who complained or appealed for help were either executed, or 'given' to the guards. Instead, we relied upon going unnoticed. We wore bland clothes, showed no skin, and kept our eyes down.

And so, as I turned, I kept my head ducked low, a sign I was no threat, and didn't intend to resist. I prayed he would take pity on me and let me give back the pears. Let me run home to my family. They would still be hungry, but at least I would be alive, able to hunt or scavenge another day. I would be extra careful in future.

I stood there, shaking, clutching the precious pears I had harvested from one of the many pear trees in this orchard. Mother could make so many lovely things with these pears: tarts, scones, stew them with some cinnamon she'd swapped with another mother for some of her home grown garden peas. We would not waste a single ounce of these fruits, unlike the Leader's cronies who left half eaten meals and deserts to simply rot in bins. I knew, because my cousin, Pearl, had tried to scavenge from the Manor's bins. She only just managed to avoid a bullet, before she could run off into the shadows.

The Leader's 'people' were starving. The recent dry spell had lasted longer than usual. Climate change was picking off the poor one by one. With not enough water, crops had withered, and the potatoes we relied upon so much, were mostly no bigger than marbles. Not enough to feed families. And with malnourishment came sickness. We weren't entitled to any health care. Local healers did their best, but without modern medicine, a lot of our people suffered. The lucky ones died quickly. Like my father.

''Emerald?'' The voice of a young man, commanding, but curious spoke my name. Still I didn't look up. I was too afraid.

''Emerald. Look at me.''

I slowly looked up to the eyes of the guard, and I gasped, almost dropping my stolen fruit.

''Onyx!'' I couldn't help the mixture of warmth and joy that came from my lips. But, he was a guard, chosen by the Leader because of his skills in languages and interpretation. Onyx could listen in to the enemy's conversations and send translations right back to the Leader. My best friend had been sent around the world to spy and listen, and to send back messages to enable the Leader to continue his plot to take over the world.

My brows came together in a frown and I sneered at him. How ironic that the onyx stone was a symbol of love and protection. My friend was now, to me, a symbol of betrayal and brutality.

He lowered his weapon and took a step forward.

''Emerald,'' he whispered, taking in my rough clothes and my scraped back hair. I knew he could also see the dark circles under my eyes. His eyes were full of shock.

''Emerald, you ...you've changed. You're so thin. Your hair, it's...Your eyes...''

I knew he couldn't speak aloud the words. I had changed. I was thin from near starvation, my eyes were dull and tired, and my clothes were worn thin. I was a product of a regime: bitter, tired, underfed and exhausted. He, however, had become even more handsome. His beautiful blue eyes hadn't changed: they were still full of youth and light, yet there was something in his face that spoke of hardship, too. But I couldn't pity him, not when I had been living in the shadow of poverty for more than three years.

I glared at him. I felt betrayed. We had been best friends since we could walk. We had played in the woods; we had camped out; we ate most meals together; we had loved one another. And then one day, Onyx didn't come for me anymore. He was being 'trained' his mother said, with bitter tears in her eyes. She told me to stay away, and I was so hurt, so angry at her, at him.

I found out a year later that he was being sent away to 'help the Leader with his work.' It took another year for me to understand what that meant. I often listened at doorways to my mother's conversations with Onyx's mother. I listened as she sobbed, and was consoled by my mother. I listened as she cried out in a language I didn't understand, but which I knew was full of pain.

''Onyx.'' I hadn't said that name in so long, and it almost sounded foreign to me.

''Emerald, I'm so sorry, I...But you must go, before someone comes. You will be shot.''

I nodded, and went to hand back the pears, but he stopped me, his hands clutching my wrist. My eyes flew to his, and for a moment blue eyes met green. His hand was so warm, so familiar and a sob clutched my throat tight. He stared down at me, emotion filling his face. I broke away. The pain in my throat was suffocating me. I couldn't breathe.

''Take them, Emerald. I won't tell anyone.'' His voice was full of longing and of fear.

I turned to go, looked at him with an agony that clutched my heart and squeezed it. But I knew I had to go, as he said.

''I will find you, Emerald. I will find a way, and then we can run,'' he called to me.

I sobbed, and fled, clutching the precious pears to my hollow belly.

Before I began to climb the stone wall, I turned to him and I smiled.

'' I will wait for you,'' I whispered.