Shadow Lands
Chapter One (Zoey Adams)
Darkness…I could see why it’s called the Shadow Lands. The sun shines normally just like everywhere else, it just never seemed to reach you. The warmth of it doesn’t penetrate your skin. I have been here long enough to nearly forget how it felt like. Its light washed over my bare face and I closed my eyes, but the soft burning sensation on my skin never came.
46 weeks; it might as well be 46 years if you asked me. This was not what I imagined when I was brought here. When someone tells you that you are going to “jail”, fifty years ago you would have pictured a large building with double fences, barbed wire, barred windows… Instead, there are abandoned buildings and houses, with broken windows and missing doors. Looted stores with no bounty left to give. The roads are empty of cars, although you can find a car once in a while. If you were lucky there might still be some gas in them, but you have to be extremely lucky. Our punishment is now just plain exile. From your family, from your life, from society; you are dumped into this deserted land, and doomed to watch as it slowly fills with just trouble makers and convicts.
I looked down between my feet and stomped on the weeds that grew between the cement of the steps, pushing them around with the tip of my boot, just like the government did to us.
“Zoe, get off your ass, Boss is coming in any minute and we haven’t finished looking over the maps yet.” barked Raul, his hot breath clouded away and slowly disappeared into the air. My heart lurched at the thought of seeing the Boss again after so many weeks, but part of me was curious about what he had to say about his trip down to Boston. Standing up from the front step where I was sitting, I wiped the dirt off of my palms and lifted the scarf over my mouth to warm up my chilled lips. We entered the abandoned apartment building behind us, well I guess I shouldn’t say it’s abandoned; it’s been my home for the last ten months.
I followed Raul up the stairs to the third floor, no light to guide us, but on second thought, it wasn’t needed. These steps are burned into my recent memory; I couldn’t trip on them even if I tried. Muscle memory influenced with habit, told me to turn left into the first apartment. The door had been taken off of the hinges to allow easy access.
Eight men stood around the neatly stacked crates that made up our makeshift dining table and maps were spread out, covering its flat surface. Crates were used as chairs, tables, stands, and even as crates once in a blue moon. I joined the group and glanced at the circled areas that decorated the faded maps. The main cities of Massachusetts were contained in red ink corrals: Boston, Worcester, Springfield, Lowell, and Cambridge.
“This might take weeks….maybe even months. Does he really think he can convince so many people to get up and leave what we have here to go to Boston?” said one of the men. His hat and scarf hid most of his face, but his green eyes almost shone; Marcus.
“Look at what he has done with Manchester alone! We were all on our own trying to survive, but he pulled us together. We are not just surviving here, we are thriving.” said another man, his voice dripped with untainted admiration. I rolled my eyes in annoyance, but I couldn’t really blame the man to be blinded by power. Marcus’s gaze caught mine and his eyes reflected the smile that was hidden under the fabric.
“What do you think, Zoe?” he asked me. I held his gaze and tilted my head to the side.
“I think the attack is futile,” my statement came out with a tone of indifference, and it caused a ripple of murmurs and whispers, “however,” I spoke up over the group, “…I suggest we just help other colonies the way Boss has helped us. Unite them. Teach them how to work together to be productive with their energy. There are too many cities living in chaos that run under the law of survival of the fittest. If that continues, they will kill each other off and then we will truly be alone on this side of the wall. I think attacking each other will only hurt us, not make us grow stronger.” I finished and looked around, meeting every cold gaze directed at me. They must be thinking I’m a traitor, but I can tell they knew I had a point.
The room fell silent seconds later as a new presence joined us. I turned around and watched our boss enter the apartment. Matthew Parker, aka Boss. His steps creaked over the wooden floor, every movement seemed calculated; intended. I felt my heart skip a beat. I hoped he didn’t hear my words…these guys were one thing, but Boss? He would kill anyone if he simply suspected they were traitors. It took me nearly six months to work my way up and finally be invited into his trusted confidants; I didn’t want to risk all of my hard work because of a stray comment at the wrong time. He pulled the scarf down allowing his breath to escape. In a fraction of a second, his light hazel eyes scanned the room. Casually he slipped out of his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. Disappointment tugged at his expression, causing his lips to turn down in a slight frown.
“Where’s Gonzales?” He said evenly. If I didn’t know better I would have thought he was concerned for the absent member. Marcus was the one to answer, “He…will no longer be joining us. I fear he was leaking information to the guards about the workings of our…organization.” He cleared his throat and my blood ran cold when his gaze met mine briefly. The boss nods his head slowly as if lost in thought. Then he simply shrugged it off and started to talk.
“As you know, we have been considering expanding our borders. New Hampshire is a small territory compared to other states within the New England Pen. Resources are running low; we can hope the crops we planted over the warmer months bear fruit soon. The corn is almost ripe and the potatoes are already maturing nicely. But I don’t think it is enough to feed an entire community. Currently, we have 3,845 people living in our territory…People will be human; it’s only a matter of time before chaos kicks in again and people start to get greedy for supplies. So these are the two ways I’m willing to move forward: we can either select the very loyal out of our community and move South towards Massachusetts or, we could kill off half the population and have a comfortable winter, with plenty of food for the rest of our group without having to move.”
I felt my jaw clench; it was so hard to hold my tongue at a moment like this. How could any logical person even utter such words? Not to mention, a calm tone so tamed, it sounded like he was debating what to order for dinner. I had to remind myself: I’m one of them, who was I to judge. That didn’t stop my heart from hammering against my chest when he opened his mouth once more to speak.
“Since this is a drastic choice, I’ll give you…” he glanced at his watch nonchalantly, “one hour, to discuss and then we vote on which route to take.” Without another word he grabbed his jacket, slipped it on and left the apartment, leaving us with a heavy conscious…or at least mine was. I lifted my wrist and looked at the digital watch. 12:57 pm. Its rectangular shape covered up most of my Crime Stamp. I pushed the plastic body down slightly enough to read the permanent reminder of why I was here: Thief. Inside I grin; at least I’m not a murderer.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
I remembered the laser as it burned into my skin. The scent of burning flesh filled my nostrils as my eyes locked on the clear letters being formed on my virgin skin. I don’t remember screaming, although my throat was sore after the laser finally turned off. The pulsing ache merged with my rapid pulse. I felt it spread into my fingertips like venom in blood vessels. The stinging in my eyes was a pinprick in comparison. I always wanted to get a tattoo… I just never thought that my first one would say, Thief.
The metal cuffs were released from around my forearm and I sighed in relief…it was over. Or so I thought until the guard bent me over and place my head on the table. He held me in place; his hands gripped my wrists together above my head. The laser-heated up and I felt the burning ache return as it marked my neck as well. I could almost see the numbers as they were etched into my body. 6827032. I screamed as the eight looped over itself, and I wondered briefly if this could be considered torture. My palms got sweaty and I felt my abdomen twist into an ugly knot.
Even with all that pain…the outcome would be worth it.
“Put her back in cuffs and bring her to the sterilization center. Once they are done with her she can be shipped over to New England Penitentiary,” said the guard. I felt drained… I was finally going to get in.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
The group dispersed to different corners of the apartment to discuss in hushed whispers. I gazed around the room and watched as they broke into pairs. Murmurs reached my ears of whispered questions about what to do next. I knew my choice. Without drawing too much attention to myself, I drifted off towards one of the empty bedrooms at the back of the apartment, but Jason Martinez blocked my path. His sideways grin always managed to force goosebumps to break out over my arms. I remembered reading his name in the local newspaper when he was caught by the cops; he raped 38 women before he slipped up.
“Excuse me, Martinez,” I stated firmly. I crossed my arms over my chest, grateful for the first time that my many layers covered every inch of my body. It made me feel a little safer from his looming gaze. He licked his lips and reached up to touch my face and I instinctively pulled away.
“It’s been a while since I’ve had fun with a cutie like you. Strange that Boss keeps you so close compared to the other women in our camp….but then again…” he bit his lip and readjusted his scarf around his neck, “…none of them are as pretty as you. How did you manage that huh?” his face suddenly darkened and I felt my heart skip.
“How about you mind your own business, and while you are at it, keep your filthy hands to yourself.” I spat out, fear turned into adrenaline and I pushed past him, walking straight to my original destination. I tried to walk confidently, and when I didn’t hear footsteps following me, I felt my pulse calm down slightly.
Once inside the first bedroom available, I leaned against the window frame, careful not to get too close to the broken glass that kept me inside. The room was empty except for some crates and empty cans of what looked like vintage beer. A stained and old mattress took up the corner furthest from the door. I wondered which of the men in the living room called this room home.
“What are your thoughts on this matter?” Marcus’s voice rumbled behind me and I turned to face him. I hate how he always managed to creep up behind me. He had pulled down his scarf at some point, revealing his lightly tanned skin which made his eyes shine even brighter. Some scruff had started to grow on his face, and something about his features always caused my insides to twitch. I shrugged at his question. I always figured it is best to keep my thoughts to myself in these moments; he always tried to squeeze things out of me the instant we were separated from the rest of the group. He grinned and I tried to return the gesture.
“What about you?” I asked, deflecting his question while I undo my own scarf out of casual respect to be face to face in a personal conversation. The cool air seeping into the room cut just as deep against my exposed skin as if I had brushed my arm against the broken glass that failed to contain it. His green eyes met mine, almost challenging my avoidance.
“I asked first,” he stated.
“What are we, children? Just tell me.” I tried to play it off casually but the glint in his eyes was more than playful, they were determined. He raised his right hand up and scratched his scalp under the edge of his hat. I caught a glimpse of his CS tattoo, Murderer, before it disappeared under the hem of his sleeve.
“How about a different question?” he offered and I lifted an eyebrow, “Tell me why you are really here? In the Shadow Lands? I know every guy’s background in our entourage but I don’t have a single clue of who you were before we met…” his voice trailed off as if giving me a chance to come clean or something. I tried not to hesitate so I parted my lips to spit out a bull-filled story when one of the other men interrupted and spoke.
“The guys want to talk to you, Marc.” He said and Marcus nodded in acknowledgment, though his eyes never left mine. He bit his lip slightly, something I’ve always found adorable when he thinks. He turns to leave and I follow him back into the main gathering room. Three other men approached the table with Marcus. I glanced at my watch; I still had a little over 45 minutes to cool down before Parker returned. I fixed my scarf and made my way down the stairs to sit back out on the front steps. Part of me wanted to trust Marcus; he was after all the reason I’ve survived this long in such barbaric land, but he was still Parker’s right-hand man and that was too close to comfort for me.
There were steps behind mine, and I hesitated. I turned around and something hard slammed against my forehead. The instant ache stabbed deep into my head and I was blinded for a fraction of a breath. I stumbled and fell against the plastered wall of the hall.
I blinked a few times, trying to get my vision to focus but the blurry outline of my attacker quickly darkened as they got closer and I cried out when I felt my hair get pulled. I screamed slightly in an involuntary reaction, unable to fight back as I was pulled into another empty apartment. The pain dulled but it didn’t take long for the horror to return when I finally saw the face of my attacker.
His hand closed around the base of my throat while a shiv pressed against my neck. I felt the cool metal sting as warm beads of blood dripped down my throat. I tried to stay still, but every fiber of my being was trembling.
“You musta sucked lots of dick to get in our ranks so quick…” he growled and I felt my stomach drop. Out of all the people that could have cornered me, why did it have to be him!
“Are you jealous Martinez because you weren’t one of them?” I smirk and tried to buy time as I gripped on his arm, trying to loosen the hold he had over my airway. I held on the best I could, but he had a lot of weight on me. Brawn wasn’t going to win this battle for me. Nobody was going to help me; everyone in the area was a criminal…they’d probably just take turns. His face crumpled up with anger at my remark and he growled something vile under breath as he dug the shiv deeper, making me scream with anguish. The tip of the blade dug along my skin, following the slope of my neck as he dragged it over the hollow of my throat.
“You know…I could kill you easy. I just haveta push this knife right....here.” he whispered and I bit back a whimper.
“Yeah? And what would Boss think if he knew you killed me? He’d cut your head right off without thinking twice about it!” I bluffed and I felt the strength leave my legs and I held my breath as hesitation flashed in his eyes. I took the chance and clawed at his face. My nails cut against his cheeks and I dug deep into his flesh until he yelled and released me. I did my best to run for the open door and back into the main hallway.
His heavy footsteps haunted mine and eventually, I felt his rough hands grab my jacket from the back and pulled me towards the floor. My face hit the broken tiles and I felt the blood as it trickled down my face. He pulled me up by my hair once more and I felt pride in my handy work to his face.
“You’ll regret that you little bitch!” he howled and pulled the shiv back to propel it forward. The rest was a blur. A fist appeared out from the darkness of the hall and made full impact against Jason’s jaw, an audible crack resonating in my ears. The shiv dropped from his hand and I watched Marcus catch it and in a skilled movement, cut across Jason’s throat, tearing right through his jugular. Blood squirted out and some landed on my face as his shocked body fell to the floor. Marcus wrapped an arm around me and led me to the stairs where I sat and watched Jason bleed out before me.
Marcus lifted my face and pulled my gaze away from Jason. He lifted his arm and used his sleeve to wipe the blood away…his gaze was steady, though I thought I saw genuine concern. He must have seen I was fine because he grinned and said, “Now will you trust me with your past?”