We, The Enemy

To call this night cold would be kind, much unlike its frigid embrace. She had spent weeks learning everything she could about her surroundings, and now was the moment it would all come together. Though the warming idea of a fire and loving touch had crossed her mind more than once during her time here, she had nowhere to go and neither family nor friends that she could call on.

Unless she counted the girl whose bloody, lifeless body lay but a few feet away as a friend.

Did people kill their friends? Though in the history of humankind, this surely was no special occurrence....

“Sorry,” she murmured to her maybe-friend and loosened the grip of her right hand. A black-handled knife fell from it and onto a cushion of snow, staining it with fresh ink. She turned to the gruesome sight and with a deep breath came down on the body, shuffling quickly through the numerous pockets of the dead girl’s trousers.

“Not sorry.” She withdrew from the body before pausing to observe her prize, a small black book that had been the cause of this murder. She spared a moment to caress its pristine cover. These would be the last moments she could sacrifice - she was now the enemy, and time was hers.

An owl preparing for its slumber brought her attention back to the strange forest. She had studied its width and breadth - its trees laden with leaves despite the uncaring winter. Its animals were in constant motion, eager to provide a meal to the hungry; it was thanks to them that she had survived these past weeks while she hid in wait for her unlucky, human victim.

“I would bury you if it made sense,” were her final words to the corpse before she stuffed the book in her pocket and took off in the direction of the rising sun. An hour’s walk and she would arrive at the forest’s edge. An hour’s walk to freedom.

She took careful, measured steps. In her time here she had tested all manners of movement - jogging, running, sprinting, skipping and the like - and decided that this was the perfect pace. Quickly enough that she could be out before the sun completed its ascent, slowly enough that she would not disturb the animals who lived around her, thereby drawing attention to her chosen route.

But she still had to consider the others. How many of them were left? What would she do if they caught up to her? Why didn’t she go back for the knife? She stopped short of cursing herself, remembering that only one token was allowed. It was either the book or the knife. She retrieved the book from her pocket and held onto it, afraid that it might somehow grow limbs and make an escape. This was the right choice.

This was the only choice.

Was it?

What if, instead of risking herself like she was now, she had killed them all and then taken the book. Then she would have no enemy to fear - no need for the knife at all.

She shook the terrible thoughts from her mind. She was no murderer. The thirty-nine wounds she had inflicted on that poor girl were necessary. She was… collateral damage. If anyone else died here it would be no fault of hers - it would not be at her hands.

A bird cried out somewhere in the distance and no sooner had she heard it than was there more disruption behind her. If the vultures found the body it would draw attention to the scene of the crime and the others would be on her tail.

Her mind tumbled back to the countless fires, killed animals and unforgiving nights this place had offered her. She was not willing to let this suffering be in vain.

The trees were thinning and the edge of the forest was in sight. Mere feet beyond rose a foreboding brick wall. She had walked as much of its never-ending length as she could manage, but there was no gate, no entrance to what lay beyond, and its perfect surface provided no means for even the most skilled climber to make their way up and over.

She knew the book would have the answer. It always did. She held it close to her bosom.

A snap from high above broke her cocoon of silence. She turned too fast, tripped and landed on the bed of snow. Her eyes scanned the dense canopy for any figure that might slip through the first rays of the sun’s hello. She saw a figure briefly disrupt the light as it hopped to a new tree, cat-like.

She scrambled up, careful not to let the book slip. She tripped and fell again. Tears clouded her vision and she heard another branch snap, not very high above her now. She was so close. She swiped away the tears and opened the book, skipping quickly past familiar pages.

“C’mon,” she pleaded. A sketch of the wall stretched across a double page, the words “Eat Me” floated above in careful script.

Her chuckle was cut short as the figure from above landed on the snow, a sinister smile etched on their gaunt face.

“Give it here.” The scratchy voice made her skin crawl. She saw overgrown nails beckon from stumpy fingers for the precious book. “Give it here and I won’t kill you.” The enemy moved closer.

She crushed the book and it crumpled willingly in her palm. She ate it.

“What are you doing?” they cried out and lunged forward.

She scrambled back, but her potential killer was knocked out of the air and into a tree by another person - larger and capable of causing more harm.

“She’s mine,” the newcomer snarled.

Her heart in her throat and her feet leaden with fear, she stood with newfound will and ran for the endless wall. Her mind was overtaken with images and numbers, flora and fauna, formulae that she could not name and some which she could.

Most importantly, however, she knew what she needed to do to escape. She pushed herself off the ground and went head-first into it, her mind chanting a formula her grandfather had repeated to her time and again during her childhood.

She felt her pursuer’s meaty hand take hold of her left foot, but their attempt was too late. The wall consumed her and everything went black.

She came to slowly - not with a big gasp. Her eyes opened and the light that greeted her vision was just right, perfectly prepared for her awakening. She used her arms to sit upright and observed many needles penetrating her skin. Their presence made her re-entrance into the real world easier.

“It’s good to see you.” She was greeted by high cheekbones and an arctic gaze daunting enough to make even the strongest heart skip a beat.

“Is it over, Amelia?”

“It is.” Amelia’s cheekbones rose higher yet as her lips stretched into a toothless smile.

She observed the room around her. There had been forty beds, each with a volunteer. Now, excluding herself, there were six. She looked to Amelia,

“Where are the others?”

“Dead.”

“Why aren’t the ones who survived waking up?”

Amelia chuckled.

“Why aren’t they waking up, Amelia?” she enunciated each word, as though English was not Amelia’s natural tongue.

“The particular cure needed to wake them is costly and hard to come by.”

“You lied to us.” Her tone became a cobra’s venom. Her breathing quickened. “We were told that the information in that book would save Earth. That is as far from the truth as it could possibly be. The information in that book destroys what little remains of this planet. It destroys human life.”

“The information you learned from that little black book gives us what we need to launch the ship directly to the New Planet,” Amelia explained. “If anything, it saves human life. You know that there aren’t many spaces left on the ship. Just one, actually.”

“I will never tell you what I learned. You can torture me all you want, you can -”

Amelia snapped her finger. “There will be no need for torture.” She gestured to a screen behind her. “Everything you saw, we saw. Everything you learned, we learned. Everything we need is here.”

She shook away Amelia’s words violently. Tears made paths down her face. “So you leave them in here - in there - to die?”

“Hm.” Amelia pulled out her phone and her hands moved skilfully across the screen.

Her own phone vibrated on the table beside her bed. She retrieved it.

The words ‘$20,000 received from AMNPTF’ flashed across the screen. She held it up to Amelia, “What is the meaning of this?”

“That is enough money for you to either get yourself on the ship off Earth or to get what is needed to wake the others.” And as an afterthought she added, “Just in time for the end of the world.”

“I won’t let you do this.”

“Is that a threat?” Amelia was amused. “By coming here, you let us do this." She didn't allow time for a response, "Tell me, how did you know to wait in that forest all that time? How did you know that the wall was your route to freedom? How did you know anything about that place?”

She clenched her jaw.

“We know your grandfather wrote that book. That your father hid it in that place. You knew the rules of the game and how to win. We needed the other thirty-nine to initiate the game, but we always knew you’d be the victor. The only one who could figure it out.” Amelia tapped her elbow pit.

She hadn’t realised before, but none of the others were as connected to machines as she was. “This is why my father kept me away from that book. Why he wouldn’t let me read any more of it after my grandfather disappeared.”

“He’s on the ship, you know. Your grandfather. You can see him again. Make up for lost time.” Amelia’s voice was void of emotion.

Her blood boiled. “He’s a murderer. He can rot in hell.”

“The only hell there’ll be to rot in is Earth once we leave.”

“Then why leave? Save the planet instead,” she pleaded.

Amelia approached her and placed a surprisingly soft hand on her leg. “You and I both know that isn’t possible. There is only one way to preserve human life and that is by leaving Earth.” Amelia began removing the needles.

“With the hundred thousand people aboard that ship? What about the three billion that remain?”

Amelia shrugged them away, “Collateral damage.” Her job complete, she headed for the exit. “The choice is yours, Thana. Wake them or get on the ship. We leave tomorrow at dusk.” She was gone.

Thana stood. Her balance unimpeded by her near month-long sleep. She walked over to a bed where a girl she knew to be dead lay. Her body had not yet been removed. It was her maybe-friend. She did not even know her name.

“Sorry,” she whispered. Images of the murder threatened to surface, but she pushed them down.

She had to save them. She had to use the money to wake them. She would not kill anyone else. She headed for the exit. She would not be the murderer her grandfather intended.

A thought crossed her mind: If she saved them, she couldn’t get on that ship. They would die. She would die.

Wasn’t suicide murder?

She closed the door on her way out.