Outside the Box - Chapter 8

8

The next few days are a whole bunch of nothing. 

Unless, of course, you count the terrified stares, the nervous whispers, and the rumors about me and Gretchen. None of the Hidden want to sit next to me anymore. They think I’ll stab them, but in truth I haven’t been let around silverware since the incident. 

Gretchen hasn’t been left alone. She always has someone guarding her - namely Lawrence. The boy looks nothing like me - which I suppose is why they chose him. After all, we don’t want another one of Gretchen’s episodes. 

Miguel seems to think I attacked her first. Aspen isn’t exactly sure what happened. 

Ezra believes me, and he thinks that I make Gretchen suffer from flashbacks. I told him what happened and he seemed interested in the fact that Gretchen seemed to remember me. I can’t prove any theories, though, because I’m not allowed anywhere near her in the first place. 

It’s dinner several nights later by the time anything interesting happens. 

Everyone is avoiding me, even the Hidden who used to worship me. Ezra is the only one who willingly sits near me, and I’ve seen the others talking to him about it. Part of me wonders if Ezra is being used as a spy, but I doubt it. If Miguel wants to talk to me, he can come over here and do it. I’ll gladly talk to him. 

Gretchen is in the kitchen with Lawrence and Quinn. The two of them are keeping her away from me, and perhaps me away from her. Gretchen apparently can hardly stand being in the same room as me. 

I try to take the situation without offense. At first I wonder if it’s maybe a phase, something that will blow over in a few days. But I’m still being treated like a bomb about to explode. Miguel and Aspen are sending glances my way - I’m trying to ignore them. Ezra is talking to me about his favorite recipes, although I’m listening only halfheartedly. 

In truth, I’m bored out of my mind. With only Ezra speaking to me, I have no one. I’m extremely lonely, and because we have nothing to do but keep Gretchen and I seperated, I’m extremely bored too. 

“Oh, and when you add nutmeg? It’s amazing, gives the meal a sense of spice,” Ezra is saying loudly. I send a glance at Aspen, who meets my eyes and immediately looks down. 

Aspen doesn’t approve of Ezra being so close to me. 

I sigh, dropping my head to the table. The others become silent, I think all watching me. They think I’ll attack at any chance. They think I’m someone who works for the Box. 

I pick up my head and meet Aspen’s sapphire eyes once again. She frowns before dropping her gaze once again. Everyone else is still staring at me, food on Caspian’s fork halfway to his mouth. 

I slam my fists down on the table, done with keeping up this charade. “Look, what do you want from me?” I ask them, and the Hidden and Lost avert their gazes. 

“Jake, it’s just…” Aspen begins to say quietly. 

“It’s just I ‘attacked’ Gretchen. Yeah, I know. You all make it impossible to forget,” I mumble, glaring at all of them. “Yup, I’m the new guy. It means I can’t be trusted and no one will take my word for anything. In fact, I must be working for the Box all along. Well, news flash, I’m not.” 

“Jake,” Aspen tries to interrupt again. 

“Why don’t you just kill me?” I continue, ignoring Aspen’s pleading expression. “I mean, if we aren’t visiting the other clans, I have no purpose to you. I’m no help in the Box, after all - I might be a double agent.” 

“Jake, please,” Aspen looks straight at me, and once again I ignore her pleas. 

I grab the knife off the table, brandishing it in the air. They all know it’s a butter knife, it can’t do much damage - especially with the blade so dull. They flinch, I can see in their eyes that they are scared. Instincts tell them I am a predator. I attacked one of their own, I must be bad. 

“I see how you look at me,” I inform them, bitterness and resentment seeping into my voice. “I can hear your whispers, I know about the rumors. You don’t trust me. I’m the new guy - the one with the mysterious past and capabilities. They always say; die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become a villain. I think that needs to be rephrased as; your hero will always be a villain to someone else. I used to be your hero, and now I’m your enemy. 

“In fact, if you really want me to be your enemy, I’ll leave right now. I’ll go back to the Box, I’ll tell them where you are and what you plan on doing,” I’m spitting now, on my feet. The Hidden have wide eyes and open mouths. They don’t appreciate the blunt truth. “Or maybe, maybe it’s better if I kill myself again. It’ll save you the trouble. One less mouth to feed, one less person to set Gretchen off. This knife - what if it goes into my chest? Will any of you try to save me? Or will you wipe away your tears and tell yourself ‘it was for the best’?” 

Everyone is silent, I can hear the clanking of dishes in the kitchen. 

And then I drop the knife, it clatters to the floor and becomes still. I walk away, leaving the knife on the floor, heading straight towards the door. 

“Jake,” Aspen pleads once again, and I turn to see her standing. She looks worried, but I know that no one here cares for me. Gretchen is their friend - I respect that. And if they want to choose her over me, that’s fine. 

“Goodbye, Aspen,” I’m about to leave when a piercing wail slices through the air. 

I cover my ears as Aspen turns to her computer in the corner. The screen is flashing red, but Aspen’s face goes pale as she looks to Miguel. “It’s the Ninjas - they’re attacking Social, taking adults and children alike.” 

“An army,” Miguel mutters under his breath. Then he straightens up, standing to his full height as he addresses the others. “Suit up if you’re one of our soldiers. The rest of you, stay here. We have some people to rescue.” Miguel then turns to face me, looking at his feet instead of my face. “Well, Jake? You want to prove your worth? Come with us.” 

I nod once, a new knot of panic forming in my stomach. 

A few of the others return with what appears to be armor of a sort. Aspen hands out weapons while Miguel boards everyone into the jeep. Noticeably, I am not given a weapon. I think Miguel just wants to see if I’ll run to the Ninjas or if I’ll stay with the Lost and Hidden and fight. I have already made my decision. I will fight, fight for the children in the south who are probably prisoners of the Box now. 

Miguel helps me climb into the trunk, making me squeeze in with the boxes. It feels appropriate for me. Right now, I am nothing to Miguel. Maybe fighting will change that. 

“Shouldn’t I at least have a weapon?” I ask as we begin to slow down. “Or can I ride somewhere more comfortable?” 

Someone drops a gun on my head. Miguel's voice carries over the seat. “One wrong move and you’re gone.” I sigh, strapping my gun onto my back. His attitude is reasonable, of course. If someone appeared to attack my friend, I wouldn’t trust them either. But still, if I wanted any of them dead I would’ve attempted it by now. 

The jeep stops and the trunk opens, letting me into the warm air. The Hidden are wearing clothing that looks like the sand, but seems to have built in armor plates. They’ll last for a while, even if they get hit. I’m vulnerable. 

We crouch in the sand beside the jeep. Tall skyscrapers are just ahead - I assume they’re part of the eastern clan. 

“We’ll get as close as we can and peg some of them off. Then we rush in and overwhelm them,” Miguel whispers to us. “I see four vans, more children than adults - but some are older than ten. We’ll have help once we get down there, but I don’t know how many we can save. When I say retreat, you retreat. Are we clear?” 

Everyone nods, including Aspen who is playing with a thick band on her wrist. “Distractions are set. Anyone Box member inside the clan won't stand a chance.” 

“Go, Aspen,” Miguel whispers to her. Aspen presses something on her wrist and there’s a loud boom from the city. The van drivers look around. Some are escorting children, others adults. Most of the prisoners are conscious, some still fighting. 

The vans are below - Aspen dropped us on a ridge where we can see the Ninjas and target them. 

“Fire,” Miguel orders. I aim at the nearest Ninja.
Apparently, my gun fires some weird bullet. It seems solid, but when it strikes the Ninja, a watery substance covers him and solidifies, forming a clear prison around him. There are about ten of us on the ridge, and about ten Ninjas fall so we all have good enough aim. 

“Fire at will,” Miguel whispers to us. “I’ll tell you when to attack.” 

I continue to fire, my finger pulling the trigger quickly and efficiently. Because my bullets are different, I can see how many Ninjas are actually down because of me. There are about eight down, each one incapitated by the clear substance. 

The children and adults drop to the ground, covering their heads. A few attempt to fight but give up against the Ninja’s guns. The Ninjas are beginning to suspect our position, so Miguel orders us to advance. We run down the hill, guns ready. I wonder briefly about reloading, but a tiny bar on my gun tells me that it instantly reloads, ammo not needed. 

A Ninja launches a bolt of light at me, but I duck. It grazes my ear, barely missing me. I hit him in the chest with one of my own bullets. His expression is surprised as he falls to the ground. 

Another Ninja is aiming at me, and then another. Aspen takes down one by tackling him as the other shoots my gun out of my hands. 

“It’s the boy!” I hear someone shout. “The escapee, Source #4 said he’d be here. They want him alive, but they didn’t say anything about harm. Everyone else can die.” 

So they want me alive. I can use that to my advantage, if they can’t kill me. Of course, they can injure me. But still, I’m relatively safe for now. The others, however, … 

“Aspen, watch out!” I cry as one of the Ninjas attempts to bring down a gun on her head. Aspen wheels around, kicking him in the knee so he falls to the ground where she shoots him without hesitation. 

I hear a bullet whiz towards me and leap out of the way. I spot my gun on the ground a few feet away, but there are several Ninjas between us. 

Instead, I run at the Ninja who shot my gun away. He doesn’t seem to expect me to run straight at him. I slam my body into his chest, which knocks the wind out of me as we roll to the ground. I land a few feet away from him and struggle to regain my balance in the sand. 

It’s growing warmer, sweat is pouring down my back now. I lunge at him again as he tries to sit up. Another bullet flies by my head, hitting the sand with an electric cackle. 

First I’m on top of him, and then he’s on top of me. The Ninja has lost his gun. He pushes down on my throat, but I bend my legs and knee him in the rear, flipping him over my head. He scrambles to his feet but I grab his ankle. He kicks sand into my mouth, making me release him so he can land a kick on my shoulder. 

I grab his ankles again and pull, making him fall to the ground where I jump on top of him. My legs hold down his arms and my hands grab his mask, yanking it off. I toss his mask away and land a punch on his face. I hear something crack, and blood spills from his nose. 

The Ninja looks up at me, his nose swelling and crooked. Then I feel something slam into the back of my head. I fall off the Ninja and see another one behind him as my vision blurs. 

I can’t pass out. Not now, not when my friends need me. 

“It’s over, kid,” someone grabs my neck, strong fingers cutting off my air. 

I try to yell, but no sound comes out. I flail about, hoping to dislodge my attacker. But my vision is going black and I can feel myself slipping out of consciousness. 

Suddenly, the pressure disappears. I gasp for breath, sitting up as my vision returns. Aspen is standing over me, her hair wild and her face covered with blood. I don’t think it’s hers, there are no scratches. 

“C’mon, Jake. Miguel said to retreat. We can’t save everyone,” Aspen helps me to my feet. Two Ninjas lay a few feet away, either unconscious or dead. 

I hobble back to the jeep, my hand clutching my stomach. I think I might be sick. 

“You’re bleeding!” Aspen cries as I withdraw my hand, finding it coated with blood. “How did that happen?” 

“Don’t know,” I manage to mumble, still recovering my breath. “The others?” 

“Miguel had them split up and take the two vans and the clan members we could save. We were trying to find you, since you had disappeared and the order of bringing you alive was made. Miguel trusts you now. He’s in one of the vans,” Aspen explains as she helps me climb into the passenger seat of the jeep. “Here, hold this on your stomach and see if you can remember where you got the wound from. Ezra will treat it.” 

“With what, a steak knife?” I ask, trying to be funny. My stomach hurts more than I’d care to admits. 

“Ezra is a good medic,” Aspen doesn’t laugh. She climbs into the driver’s seat and we start to move. I apply the cloth she gave me to my stomach, but it doesn’t turn red. I think I’ve stopped bleeding. 

I lift my shirt and discover my stomach is clear of wounds, with the exception of a narrow wound, nearly healed. “Uh, Aspen?” 

She peers over at my now healed wound. “Jake, what did you do?” She gasps suddenly and I peer back down. The wound is opening again. I feel a wave of nausea and open the window to puke. Aspen stops the car and ties the cloth around my stomach. 

“It isn’t deep, thank heavens,” she tells me - but it sounds like she’s saying it more to herself. 

“It was healing!” I protest when I’m finally able to roll up my window. “I saw it.” 

“You were hallucinating, idiot,” Aspen hands me a black ball absentmindedly. “They dropped this on the field, I figured I would take it back to Ezra and Miguel. It wasn’t a good strategy - everyone went crazy for a few minutes.” 

I groan, mad at myself. Mad at the Ninas. Mad at Gretchen. Mad at everyone. “So Miguel finally believes I didn’t attack Gretchen?” 

“I think so,” Aspen sighs. “After he saw the Ninjas go after you he was pretty sure that you weren’t a traitor. But it still makes me wonder about Gretchen. How could she have seen you?” 

“Maybe they walked her through the main rooms where everyone is asleep,” I shrug. “Gretchen’s mind is beyond me.” 

“It’s beyond anyone,” Aspen becomes quiet. She stays silent for a few moments before turning to look at me. “You should rest, Jake. Ezra will take care of you when we get back. Besides, we rescued some more children. You should be happy.” 

And as I look into her eyes I realize that I am happy. 

But more than that I am free. 

I doze off, and I dream of the Box. I dream of the city I was born in and the parents I left behind in their clutches. I dream of Eryl, the kitten who never really existed. 

And I learn what I’m fighting for: everyone imprisoned in the Box. Those who haven’t had a chance at real life. I will fight the Ninjas, I will tear down the Box. I will destroy the system so that others can live a free life. 

I think that should be proof enough to Miguel. 

“Seriously, Jake,” Ezra rolls his eyes. “Wounds don’t heal overnight. I still don’t see how to managed to not realize that you were injured, but whatever.” 

Apparently, I slept all night into the next morning. Ezra wakes me with a plate of breakfast before he asks me if he can change my bandages again. The new Hidden are being welcomed by Gretchen and Miguel. Gretchen’s feeling better, according to Ezra. 

“Aspen told you about the hallucinations and stuff - ouch,” I push Ezra away as he touches my stomach sending a sharp jab of pain up my spine. 

“That doesn’t explain how you didn’t feel the pain,” Ezra mumbles to himself, peeling the bandage off my stomach. “Unless, of course, you were in shock. Stop fussing, I’m trying to look at it.” 

“I can’t believe I’m letting a twelve year old work on my stomach like a surgeon,” I complain when the bandage is off. 

“I’m thirteen, thank you very much,” Ezra says, inspecting the wound carefully. “The good news is, you’re healing quick enough. With the medicine I found, you can be back on your feet at lunch and you can go back to your ‘normal activities’ tomorrow.” He begins to rewrap the wound. 

“Thirteen? Have you lived here your entire life?” 

“More or less,” Ezra shrugs. “Mum and Dad worked here for a while - when the technology was still functional. I don’t really remember much of my childhood, not until I was about six. That’s when my parents died. Aspen wouldn’t let me help in raids until I was eleven, so I learned to cook and heal. Then, all the adults died.” 

The boy seems on the verge of tears, so I don’t push the issue. 

Ezra lets me know that I can get out of bed about an hour later. The bunker is full now, or nearly so. We managed to save about six adults and about twelve children. 

“So the zombie lives,” Miguel laughs when I take a seat next to him at the overflowing table. Gretchen is still absent, most likely she’s been hidden away from me again. “I was beginning to think Ezra got the best of you.” 

“Haha, very funny,” I mumble, taking a bite of the meal. “I still have my reservations about being ‘treated’ by him. How long did he go to school for medicine?” 

Aspen rolls her eyes. “You’re lucky the cut wasn’t any deeper. Ezra’s itching to try out his new stitches, but we don’t have painkillers or test subjects.” 

“No painkillers?” 

“Used them all about a month ago actually,” Ezra hands Aspen a plate of food. “Aspen’s right, though. I was looking for a test subject.” 

“And you got one,” Miguel points to one of the other bedrooms. He turns to face me. “One of the new Hidden was shot in the leg, but the wound opened more during the battle or something. Ezra got to fix him up.” 

“Darn right I did,” Ezra smiles, handing Miguel his food too. 

“So, what’s next?” I ask as Ezra leaves with my now empty plate. 

Miguel and Aspen share a look before Miguel shrugs. “I don’t know, Jake. You seem restless today, don’t you. I was thinking about paying a visit to the north, see if I could get a few more recruits. But seeing as everywhere we go, someone gets injured…” 

“What about the dam?” Miguel drops his fork and Aspen shakes her head. 

“I told you,” Miguel sighs. “You’d burn alive before you got there. Rain season isn’t for a month or so from now. There’s no way you could get there.” 

“Even if we took a jeep?” 

Miguel thinks for a second. “Even if we took a jeep, the sun would be too hot. There are not working air conditioners on the inside and therefore we would die from heat exhaustion. Not to mention, our water supply is limited enough as it is. The Box provides water for the clans - and for the bunker as well. But we wouldn’t be able to carry enough water and food.”

I sigh, and so does Aspen. “Once the rain season starts, we can send a search party to the dam. Until then, it’s best we wait.”