Chapter Six

Katalene felt nothing but the hotness of her head planted in the sand. Her body felt squirmy and disorderly, like it was making the transition from being a solid to a liquid. That was the broken ribs and whatever else she felt. It was difficult for her to differentiate consciousness from herself drifting into a dream-like state. At the very least, she could feel herself fading as the hot sun beamed down at her.

She squirmed, exerting herself to the utmost of her ability to break free from the ropes. Alas, she hadn’t the strength to pry apart the thick rope that bound her, and doubted she’d have been able to in a better state.

The ropes contorted her limbs to an awkward and uncomfortable position, leaving her with nothing to do about it except for suffer. Most of her focus was dedicated to her arm wearing the gauntlet, knowing if she could simply extract the blade again, she’d be able to free herself. It was no use though. Katalene hadn’t the faintest idea of how she drew the blade the first instance, and instead, simply wiggled her arm in a pathetic attempt.

She would die, tied up like an animal, in some nondescript area in the Whispey Deserts. Father Ark and Mother Jane would be proud, she sure did prove them wrong about their way of life. All Katalene’s former grit and determination felt dried up beneath the sun, left in the dust in the midst of her current agony. She would’ve harvested a million stock, collected the eggs out a thousand chicken coops, all if it meant being able to leave the Deserts. To be able to have her brother back.

2

Auntie Pearl was a wonderful woman, of whom, Kat loved very much. Pearl was thoughtful and kind, and always seemed happy to have visitors. An older woman, much, much older than Mother Jane, she was Grandma’s sister, and had wrinkly skin that resembled what a grape looked like when it was under the sun too long. Still, she never came off as grouchy or mean. Unlike old man Frank, who always seemed angry about something or another.

Auntie Pearl’s house was small, but cozy. Wilson did their best to take care of the elderly, rewarding them for their many works and exertions. They rewarded her by including her in the rations, same as everyone else who contributed to Wilson. They supplied her food and shelter, and allowed her to enjoy the years she had left in retirement. Often, Pearl would visit Mother and help with the children. It got her out of the house.

Katalene shared compliments with Auntie Pearl for a times, Auntie was a wise woman and with her wisdom came the need to share it. Pearl told stories about herself as a child.

Life wasn’t very different now from then, the biggest societal changes could be seen in Jerleak or other larger cities in Zeal, small villages like Wilson and other territories in Tuncid were far less developed. Tuncid was the back-bone of Zeal as it stood.

Auntie Pearl told stories she had heard, ones that had been passed down from her mother, and the landscape long, long ago was much different from how it is now or when Auntie Pearl was a child. She said the world was once absolute chaos. When God first put humans on Zeal, they didn’t know how to treat one another or how organized society should work.

Men, women, and even children, it was difficult to differentiate the bad people and who was just trying to survive. It didn’t really make a difference either. Back then, Pharaohs and other powerful men would run contests in the Whispey Deserts, The Trials of Calpera, they were called, battles to one’s demise. Whether it be through combat or devised obstacle courses, it was all done for riches or by force.

Katalene was scared by the stories, but intrigued. In a way, it did sound exciting for obstacle courses and contests to be had. Wilson didn’t have anything of the sort, after all.

When she returned home, however, she returned home amidst an argument. And, it was a spat on her behalf.

“I didn’t think it’d upset you this badly!” Mother Jane pleaded, sounding indignant.

It wasn’t immediately apparent who Mother was speaking toward. Katalene stood in the yard of their small abode, another example of a cozy home, albeit, much more crowded than Pearls’. Their house was of plank wood, and Katalene stood just outside the window which led to the kitchen, and led to where Mother spoke.

“Tradition is a valuable commodity to be instilled into our children. Echelons and specific duties, not done through prejudice, but done because each job is best tailored to each specific person. Our daughter should not venture outside her own skill-set, it will only stretch her beyond her means and lead to her getting hurt, Jane.”

At that moment, Katalene noticed the horse and buggy up front for the first time, Rooven and Father Ark have returned from their travels.

“I think you’re underestimating our daughter,” Mother Jane answered, she had some oomph to her voice that Katalene hadn’t ever heard before, not from her.

“I am not discussing this with you, Jane.” Father Ark didn’t lose his temper, there was no inflection of anger in voice, just definitive finality. The conservation’s end.

“But, why can’t she come, I mean, just cause she’s a girl, she’s a good one, Dad,” Rooven intercepted at last minute. His small boy voice trying to carry some courage behind it, but it failed. Simply put, his voice was just too squeaky to convey strength at his age.

“Mind your tongue,” Ark calmly stated.

“But, I’m just,” and that was it, that was as far as Rooven was able to get before Father Ark smacked him across the room. It wasn’t vicious or harsh, more like a love-tap, but it was the act itself that surprised all three of them, even Mother Jane. Rooven sold it like an arrow to the chest, diving backward and falling flat on his bottom. He sobbed, more emotionally hurt than physically.

Katalene felt a sense of anger as well, the whole situation brought on by the simple fact that she was a girl! The anger didn’t subside either, her frustration stayed with her. If Father Ark didn’t believe in her, in her to do something as simple as going to Jerleak, she would go by herself.

Nay, she would go with Sol.

3

“Katalene … ?” A voice called out, a familiar voice, but she couldn’t place it.

She, drained and depleted, didn’t feel the desire to raise her head up from the sand from which it was planted. Her body felt leathery and broken, burning from the blistering severity of the sun, and her throat felt dry as well. And, yet, she felt all too dead to dignify her suffering with a response, and instead, simply continued her slow decomposition in quiet solitude. It felt as though she couldn’t remember a time before all of this.

Katalene didn’t have it in her to feel, didn’t feel the need to mourn for her brother’s death, didn’t feel the fear of her own. She simply laid, hogtied like an animal in the middle of the Whispey Desert, and rotted.

“Katalene…?” The voice called out a second time, a trick of her mind, the residual remains of a happier time piercing through the inner confines of her psyche. Nobody she knew would be coming to her rescue. “I want to help you, Kat, but, first, I need you to wake up.”

Katalene obliged, eventually, bringing her head up from the sand, grains stuck to her face like they’d were glued to her, and her eyelids could barely open. First, she saw the feet of a barefoot child, tanned skin, up and up, to his legs up, he wore pants, grayish brown, worn and made from cheap clothe, the clothes looked about like what the children of Wilson dressed in. The child did not wear a shirt, a countermeasure to the beaming sun overhead. As Katalene met eyes with him, she recognized him with a small bit of shock or as close to shock as she could feel in her current state.

She recognized the small child, “Sol?” She asked.

4

Traveling to Jerleak would be difficult. Mostly because she hadn’t the faintest idea of where to look. She knew of the general direction. To head East, eventually, in a day’s time or so, she’d come face-to-face with the city herself.

She was stealthy on her mission. She brought a small bag with her, filled with bread and water, only the essentials. A couple of coin, her birthday money of previous years. A souvenir or two is all she was looking for, something to commemorate the actions that would likely make Father lock her up until adulthood.

She waited until night-time. The fighting amongst them died down fast, with Father Ark’s final statement and action being the end of it. As everyone went to bed, she snuck her way through the house with her supplies in hand, cracking the door open just enough to slip her small frame through.

The night-time sky was beautiful, filled with stars, but still, a little scary. Katalene usually had no prejudice against the dark, but something about knowing she’d be walking amongst it, hand in hand with the creatures within it, made her uneasy.

Shutting the door behind her, Katalene made small footsteps forward. The reality of what she was doing started to set-in, but she smashed down the worrisome thoughts, opting instead, to be brave. She absolutely would adventure to Jerleak!

Next-door to the cornfields, she walked, the distinctive sound of small frogs could be heard, coming from a small pond out and away, Marius Pond, it was called. Other than that, around her was quiet, silent and nondescript, the most evident night characteristic being the frigid air breezing about, the chilliness soothed her red-hot, burning chest, eased her nerves.

She remembered the way that Father Ark and Rooven left a few days prior, that’s how she distinguished which way was East. East was also the direction that led opposite the Whispey Deserts, an area that brought Uncle Morgis many riches.

“You sure you really want to do this?” Sol asked with a look of concern and angst.

Katalene looked at him, nodded her head, and, like that, Sol vanished. Sol was like that, bringing her own thoughts out from the surface, perpetuating her fears. It was all from a place of love, however, Katalene knew she needed to find Jerleak. Father Ark doubted her, and him being as strong and as smart as he was, made doubting herself all too easy a feat. She needed to find Jerleak.

She followed the dirt path that led deeper into the forest. Looking about the houses to her left. They looked very different at night, very empty and desolate, though, she knew that was really because everyone was asleep. Still, it was a different aesthetic than she had made herself accustom. Wilson was always up-and-about during the day, with folks hard at work, harvesting the crop or tending to the needs of the animals.

Some nights, the animals remained awake and made that fact apparent, the ducks would quack, and the pigs would oink, roaming about in their slop with no particular agenda. Even at night-time, Wilson was hardly ever quiet or peaceful. Nobody really noticed them anymore, like the smells of the farm, regulars became accustom. There was something special about tonight though, it was a little more tranquil than usual.

“Who the fuck’s there!?” A voice yelled out.

Katalene flinched fast, nearly jumping out from her skin. Once she regained herself, she recognized the voice as belong to Old Man Frank. It was dark, but she could still see the outline of the Old Man standing on his porch, shaking his fist around, a stick of tobacco in-between his lips.

Katalene found herself hiding behind a small fence, trying to keep herself hidden. He hadn’t saw her, or, at least, she didn’t believe so, only heard her footsteps. She peeked over from the edge of the fence, feeling her chest beat faster when she realized that Frank was walking in her direction, his hands, clutched in fists, rocking back in fourth at his side while he did so.

Katalene trembled down to her knees, the fear she felt toward Old Man Frank was irrational, but she remained petrified, nonetheless. Old Man Frank neared her, until, then, the loud sound of something smacking together became apparent.

It was enough to take Frank’s attention off Katalene, as he turned himself to look to the location where the noise originated. They both saw it, large, sharp teeth chomping together in the night, only vaguely visible. The sound of growling came next, a snarling growl that sounded wet and with evil intent, like a wolf or a coyote, but much larger than that.

Old Man Frank gasped, clearly as taken by the sight as Katalene. “What, uh, what,” is what he might have been trying to say, but what came out instead was mumbled hysteria. Frank backed himself near the side of the fence, not far from where Katalene had herself hidden.

“Run!” a shouting whisper exclaimed, and once more, the teeth started chomping away, moving toward Frank.

Old Man Frank obliged to the creature’s request, running the path leading to his porch and slamming his front door shut. Frank moved much faster than Katalene had ever seen him move before.

The thought amused her some, but soon, the harrowing reality set in that with Frank gone, she was now alone with the creature. She made no hasty movements, partly because she was near petrified with fear, but also because she didn’t want to risk alerting the beast. Seconds passed, she stared off, only faintly seeing the outline of its teeth, other than that, she could hear its breathing, gently, but distinctively in the silence.

“Kat!” A voice on the other-side of the beast called out.

She recognized the voice.

“Rooven?” She asked in a shouting whisper, watching as the beast’s mouth, which turned out not to be a mouth at all, dropped to the ground with a thud. As Katalene cautiously neared her brother, she soon discovered the teeth were in-fact a pair of rakes he’d been slapping together. “You idiot!”

“You have a very strange way of saying thank you,” he calmly commented in a quiet whisper.

“I had it handled,” Katalene lied. “What are you doing out here, Roo?”

“I saw you sneaking out from the house and decided to follow you. What are YOU doing out here, Kat?”

Katalene looked around in the night, as if, half-expecting a worthwhile lie to leap out before her eyes and help her weasel her way to freedom. When it didn’t, however, she opted for telling the truth instead: “I am going to Jerleak!” She announced, carrying a small amount of pride in her announcement. Her hands on her hips, looking out to the stars like she was prepping herself to accomplish an amazing feat. And, in a lot of ways, she was, she thought.

“Why do you want to do something stupid like that for?” Roo asked, not impressed by his little sister’s confident posture.

“Excuse me?” Katalene asked, finding herself going over a whisper in her retort, offended, she readjusted herself back down to a whisper, “You and Dad went to Jerleak, it’s only fair I get to see it.”

“You’re really not missing much, I mean, it’s a big, crowded city, horses galore and barely enough room to stretch your arms in. Wilson has it beat, honest.” Rooven said, his body turned away from her as if he was trying to lead her back toward the house.

“Anything is better than Wilson! I want to see plays and hear music, I want to see something other than the same boring fields, all everyone does here is work, work, work.”

“Villages like Wilson are the backbone of Zeal, Kat. Places like Jerleak are lazy and unproductive, you don’t want to be like that, do you?”

“You call them lazy, but they have us doing all the work while they have all the fun! They’re the smart ones, all we do is work, and then what happens, we find ourselves to our graves, a life not lived.” Kat turned her body away from Rooven’s and began walking toward the forest, her mind was already made up, she was going to Jerleak.

“We find ourselves to our graves and go to Heaven, Katalene. That’s our reward, a lifetime of work in-exchange for eternal bliss.”

Katalene said nothing for a moment, choosing her words wisely, “Well, I’d like to live a bit as well too, just in-case it’s not that simple.”

She made way toward the forest, hearing her brother’s footsteps follow behind her, “You don’t have to come with me. I have Sol accompanying me, and I don’t want you to get in-trouble for a choice that’s not your own.”

“Your my sister, Katalene, I’ll always choose to help you, whether I completely understand it or not.”

“Then, you best get your own supplies, we’ll take turns carrying the water jug.”

5

“If that name makes you most comfortable, Sol, is fine,” the small boy answered back, a stoic expression painted on him, he wore a wide-brimmed hat and beneath that, his shaded, dead eyes stared back at her.

“Sol, what are you doing here?” Katalene asked, the heat had gotten to her, on some level, she knew as much. She was asking a figment of her imagination why it had decided to stop by on such a monumental occasion.

“Looking for you in the sands, can’t find your whereabouts, sensed you were under duress,” Sol answered back, no tone to his voice at all.

“I’d say you found me, wouldn’t you?” Katalene asked, her limbs ached badly, being contorted in such peculiar positioning for as long as they’ve been.

“No, looking for you in the sands, can’t find your whereabouts. Can’t … find your whereabouts. Go to a landmark, describe it, then, I will arrive shortly.” Sol said, his eyes never wandered or looked away from Katalene’s, locked on her, like she was the center of his universe, that was by design, she supposed.

“I can’t very well do that all tied up, now can I?” Katalene fired back, she founded like him, no inflection in her voice either, but she had no emotion because she couldn’t find the strength to provide enthusiasm.

“You’re tied up?” Sol asked. “Can you escape? Your gauntlet has a secret compartment with a blade, use it to cut yourself free from your predicament. Go to a landmark, describe it. I will arrive shortly.”

“I can’t move at all!” Katalene hollered back, then, immediately let out a dry, hoarse cough.

“Who tied you up?”

“I don’t know,” Katalene began, “Men riding sand-rays, the sand-rays had chains on them, pulling giant black boxes.”

“Know those men,” Sol commented. “Use your gauntlet’s blade to free yourself. Go to a landmark, describe it. I will arrive shortly. I will begin heading toward general direction in mean-time.”

“You’re a figment of my imagination,” Katalene replied.

“Our imagination,” Sol corrected.

“I can’t break-free from the ropes, I can’t maneuver myself to trigger the switch on the gauntlet,” she said.

“Trigger? What trigger? The gauntlet is not triggered, attack the ropes.” Sol answered back. “Attack the ropes and your blade will extract.”

“I can’t move,” Katalene reiterated.

“You don’t need to move. Attack the ropes and your blade will extract. Go to a landmark, describe it. I will arrive shortly. I have begun heading toward general direction in mean-time.”

“Attack the ropes,” Katalene mumbled to herself, and then, thought about it for a second.

When her gauntlet’s blades first extracted, it was because she’d attempted to fight off the men, it didn’t seem as though there was a secret button or switch. She assumed it a motion that had caused it, her fist being thrown in someone’s direction, activating the hidden blade. That didn’t seem to be it either.

She wiggled about, her fingers extending as much as they were possibly allotted. She tried again at breaking free from the ropes, tried at picking at them with her fingers, in search of loose threads that might help break it down. Little resulted from such acts, and with what little she had left, used all her strength at fighting them, at breaking them apart, with each failure, she grew madder and madder at the situation, until, at last, … the blade extracted, cutting through the ropes and freeing her. The feeling of relief as the restraints no longer contorted her body was appreciated even before she even fully wrapped her mind around the fact she’d been freed.

The very second the ropes became a non-issue, Katalene’s limbs went flat against the sand, lying dormant. The feeling was of great comfort, but also of exhaustion. “There,” she said quietly, still resting her head against the sand and breathing heavily.

“Good.” Sol replied, with little joy in the matter. “Now, go to a landmark, describe it, then, I will arrive shortly. I have begun heading toward general direction in mean-time.”

Katalene touched her hands against the sand, they shook like wobbly table legs as she pushed off them and they felt entirely numb. She fought with all her might, finding enough inner-strength to bring herself to a push-up stance, that is when she fell back to the sand.