Eleutheria | Chapter 4

Outside

I let Jordan help me up, and he eases me outside. I can feel fresh air on my cheeks before we have even stepped on grass. Grass. There is grass. Actual grass- I can feel it on my feet. The blades tickle my toes. I had forgotten what grass felt like.

‘Grass…’ I say it out loud because I cannot really believe it. My voice is unrecognisable. It is cracking, not because I am emotional about standing on grass, but because I am beginning to get unwell. We have chesty coughs all the time- it’s difficult not to. But mine sounds like it is barely there. A breaking croak belonging to some dying frog. I haven’t seen a frog in years.

‘Grass,’ Jordan says triumphantly. He brings me further down the grassy ridge. Our new home is on top of a slight hill, which overlooks the reservoir and a forest. Trees. Greenery. It’s incredible. In the sky I see the moon and the stars. I start to cry a little. A bit more than a little.
‘Worth it?’ Jordan asks. He is pleased with himself. He has delivered to me what every man wishes he could give nowadays aside from freedom; the moon and the stars.

‘Worth it.’ I say. My voice is really dying now because of the tears I am choking back. Everyone needs to see this. But right now I don’t want to share it. It’s all mine.

Jordan lifts me and jogs down the hill, but how he even has energy I have no idea. We are approaching the reservoir, so I cling to him in reluctance. He gets closer and closer to it until I am sure he is going to stand right on the edge or chuck me in.

‘Jordan stop,’ I am really getting terrified. He is almost at the edge and there is no fence. It’s just a deep mass of water lying there waiting for… something. ‘Jordan- stop!’ I hiss. I couldn’t shout if I wanted to. But you mustn’t shout nowadays, shouting attracts unwanted attention. He keeps running until we are right on the concrete edge of the reservoir. I can hear the water gently lapping every so often at the concrete sides. It isn’t unruly. It just sits. He teeters and I am about to fall in. I struggle in his arms and try to let out a scream but start coughing hysterically. Something is coming up in thick clumps. I think I might be vomiting but Jordan doesn’t seem to notice. He thinks it is fun. His arms release and I am submerged.

Everything is black. I am vomiting or choking or something but whatever it is just dissolves into the water and is lost forever. I think I might be lost forever. I wonder if Jordan is waiting for me to emerge or if he is in the water too. I feel a tug at the end of my body. Someone is pulling my foot. I am being dragged downwards. Or upwards, I don’t know because the water, though serene and all too calm on the outside, is now swirling around me with ferocious force.  I feel the bite of winter air.

‘Fun,’ I think it is Jordan’s deep voice chortling. I feel like death. I don’t know how far from the edge I am but I swim. I struggle and paddle and flap myself to what feels like an edge and I dredge myself out. I heave but cannot hold my own body weight. A hand grabs at my arm and tugs, but the owner isn’t strong. They tug and tug with all their might and I feel my body slowly being pulled onto the ground. I am safe. I am a Survivor once again.

‘JORDAN!’ A voice screams. It echoes through the forest, bouncing from every lurching spiny tree. The voice screams his name again. I open my eyes. Everything is blurry. With exhaustion I realise I am not having much luck at the moment. Then again, no one is having much luck at the moment- the only constant in our lives is that we are all victims. However, I never thought I would ever be the victim of one of my friend’s conscious stupidity. I realise the voice belongs to the blurry small shape in front of me- Georgia. She has saved me; the spindly, skinny freckled thing has saved me. Georgia screams Jordan’s name once more. She holds my face with her cold, wet little hands and promises me she’ll be back as quickly as she can humanly can.

I can open my eyes properly. I roll my dead weight on to my back and promptly choke. Bad idea. I heave myself back round and manage to curl up a little. I can see Jordan on the far side of the reservoir swimming in the moonlight. I can get up. I get up, just not very effectively. The pain in my leg is unbelievable, as is the pain in my chest. I can limp though, and I struggle up onto the grass in a kind of half crawling position. I go further. I didn’t walk all that way in the tunnels, so I should have more energy. I should, but I don’t, not really. I cough involuntarily. I choke for a moment because I am about to vomit again. I swing around automatically and heave. Nothing comes out. I gag and heave again and I vomit everywhere, the force knocking me to the ground. My knees have collapsed and my chin is on concrete and my guts are spewing up into the reservoir. Jordan calls my name from across the water. I don’t have time to look over because I am vomiting again. And again. My body is too tired for the upheaval. My life is literally being drained into the pit of water. I have a spare moment and I think perhaps I am okay. I have time to draw breath and I do so frantically, struggling to keep myself from panicking. My throat is numb. My chest and ribs are being ripped apart- in fact, I am sure for a moment that something is eating me from the inside out. I shuffle back from the reservoir and look up for someone who might be around. The night sky looks at me with an empty expression as Jordan starts to jog over from the other side of the water. I sit back and try to move further from the edge. I twist my body, and the action promptly forces me to vomit again. This time it happens all over my front because I don’t have the energy or the strength to bend my back over to direct the force of it all. I choke some more because I fall onto my back. I have a few seconds to regain my breath and I pull myself up to a sitting position again with whatever strength I have left, if any. I am hyperventilating slightly… manically. I pull a hand up to my chest and try to force my jumping heart back into my ribcage. Jordan reaches me through pools of vomit. He drops to his knees to be at my height.

‘Hey, hey what happened?’ He says. His eyes are running over me wildly. It is so dark he won’t be able to see a thing.
‘I…’ I can’t talk. I want to tell him I was sick. Thundering footsteps come from behind. Noreen reaches us and pushes Jordan out of the way with more force than I have ever seen. A bright light flashes in my eyes. There are a lot of whispers that I can’t hear because I think my ears have popped. I can hear crying though. The whimpering little Georgia stands a safe distance from the drama. I manage to mutter ‘don’t cry,’ but I don’t think even she heard. Maybe I didn’t say it, maybe I just thought it. Noreen grabs at my face; she pushes my mouth open and looks inside. She pulls my eyelids open and studies my eyes. She lifts my wrist and shines the torch onto my veins. She moves the light up to the inside of my elbow and studies the veins there too. Finally she drops my arm and straightens up. She takes a step back and breathes steadily.

‘Georgia, go back inside,’ she says slowly. Her voice sounds dry. Georgia is frightened by Noreen’s vacant expression so she runs off to the building with one last look at me. I am frightened by Noreen’s expression as well. Jordan stands near the reservoir so he isn’t invading Noreen’s space, but he looks impatient; his arms are taught around his chest, holding in whatever emotion boils inside. I feel better now, so much better. I threw up whatever I needed to get out.

‘Get me the medical supply box,’ Noreen turns and says to Jordan despondently. Jordan, glad to have a task to do, runs at helter speed to the building. I wish I could stand and move around but my leg is still painful and isn’t healed enough for me to put pressure on it after the force of the water. Noreen is still standing far away enough from me to make me worry she is angry that Jordan and I were messing about. Noreen can be scary. Not as physically scary as Jordan, who can be terrifying, but scary because of her brain. She can be very quiet. Sometimes she’ll be looking at you and talking, but you know she is thinking something different to what is coming out of her mouth. She is often cool and calculated and her emotions only ever run wild when people sound as if they have given up hope. Noreen can’t bear pessimists. I am studying her and her body language closely when Jordan approaches with the big clear box, which is now near empty. I don’t think it has ever been full. Noreen tells Jordan to sit with me and wrap the wound on the side of my chest again. She says she will be back; she has to find something that should have been in the box.

‘What’s wrong with Noreen?’ I ask Jordan quietly. Just whispering makes my throat burn.
‘Why are you concerned about her? You should be worrying about yourself,’ Jordan states. He won’t look into my eyes. I know he feels guilty as he studies the wound. The stitches he wove himself have split open with the force as I was thrown into the water. I keep still while he bandages me up. I look up at the glinting stars and try to imprint the sight of them into my memory forever. Noreen returns, carrying another box with her.

‘You’ll need this,’ Noreen says quietly and pulls out two rucksacks. She throws them on the ground in front of me. She rests the box on the floor and pulls out various objects. I see a first aid kit being packed into one of the rucksacks; some light food, bottles, a few cleaner clothes, and shoes. Then she chucks two coats on the ground on top of the bags. My mind goes blank. I know the reason that she’d pack two bags but I don’t believe it. She really wouldn’t. She couldn’t. Jordan is now standing to his full height. He towers over Noreen, but she doesn’t shrink back.

‘You can’t be serious,’ Jordan says. He is furious and we all know it, but he controls it with his disbelief, his voice full of strangled distress.
‘I couldn’t be more serious Jordan. I can’t have anyone infected in the colony. You know that. There’s a good chance you will be too if you…’ Noreen trails off. She thinks we’ve been intimate. She thinks we’ve fucked. I don’t register the word infected at first. I’m not infected. I’m a Survivor. Noreen shines her torch on me again. I look down. The place down my front where I vomited isn’t brown and stained. It’s crimson. Blood red. Blood. Oh.

‘If she’s sick you have to let her stay Noreen,’ Jordan keeps his voice low, even, steady, but he is visibly struggling. ‘She needs your help, she needs the supplies, and she needs shelter. You can’t throw her out like a dying dog,’ Jordan spits his words at the end. He is losing his temper rapidly. Noreen doesn’t reply. She doesn’t even look at me. She turns and starts walking back to the building, but she barely gets two feet. Jordan stalks after her. He is screaming and shouting and swearing and calling Noreen every name he can think of. I’ve never heard anyone say things so disgusting. I know things will get physical. Yes. Noreen came prepared; she wears a knuckle-duster and sloshes him in the face. Jordan takes the full blast and holds his face for a moment while he recovers from the blow. Noreen has started walking again. Jordan turns around to her again and yanks her back by the shoulder, he physically turns her body to face him and he punches her in the face with more force than any knuckle-duster can do. I can’t believe he hit her. Our mother. Who deserted me. Jordan is done. He paces back towards me, and puts one rucksack over each shoulder. He stops and thinks for a moment, then pulls one off. He delves inside and finds what he was searching for. Noreen packed us a handgun for protection. Jordan is planning to protect his pride. He lifts it and aims at Noreen, who has just reached her feet again. I scream and bite Jordan’s foot. He kicks out at me and catches my face. I don’t even feel it. I manage to scramble nearly to my feet and I try to fight him for the gun, but he is ignoring me. He stands like a brick and doesn’t move. He keeps his aim steady. I can only do what I know will stop him. I struggle forwards and stand in his way. Noreen turns and walks to the building, not once looking back. Jordan roars with anger and shoots into the night sky instead. I am sobbing I think. Not because I have been left, but because I am confused. I don’t know what I am doing and everything hurts. Jordan shrugs the rucksacks back onto his shoulders and stalks off into the forest, leaving me on the grass next to the reservoir.

I am beside myself for I don’t know how long. I sob hysterically, and when I feel it get too much I struggle to even my breathing so I do not vomit blood everywhere again. I have to survive. I am pathetic. I cry instead of save myself. The longer I stay here the longer I am at risk. I have to get into the trees but I don’t want to see Jordan, he might kill me. It sounds dramatic but it is true. If he has been banished too, the last thing he needs is someone who will slow him down and make him more at risk. But he won’t want to leave me bleeding and sick in the forest, so he will kill me so nothing else can. I have to survive. I will be the best fucking Survivor there ever was. One day people will write stories about how much I survived and how good at it I was. I will survive. I am going to survive Noreen. Jordan.

I limp into the forest in a different place to where Jordan skulked off. I am already in so much pain, I don’t know if I can go any further. I have only just reached trees. I can now no longer see the reservoir or the building, I can only see nothing. I don’t have any food or water or lights, Jordan took everything. I am alone.