When I was small, I found a dilapidated tannery (still working) that had a crumbing side in the alley that one could climb up if you were motivated enough to get off the street. The roof is flat, and over the years I had managed to build an almost snug shelter up there. As I found more Muffins, I had added onto the structure, and now it is a beggar’s version of a rabbit warren. The tannery keeps it warm (and smelly, but I could live with that), it is easily defendable from other rooftoppers, and it is hidden from below. Basically, it was perfect. Unless you had to get up there with a big-ass adult. Who was unconscious. And you had a bad leg. Yup.
Almost to the wall, I find a strip of fabric almost two feet long. The stranger is already half tied on, so I used the cloth to tie his legs so I can let go of him. Experimentally, I swing from side to side and almost fall over when my left knee buckles under the weight. I catch myself on the wall and decided there is nothing for it but to start climbing.
I would never admit this to Tiph, but just between you and me, I almost don’t make it. The climb is long enough that I need all four limbs to get myself up, but with the added weight of the stranger, I get halfway and think I am going to fall. I grit my teeth and keep climbing, focusing on just one more handhold, one more step with my gimp leg, one more handhold… and then the stranger shifts. “Motherffff-“ I am shaking from the strain and I glance up to see how close I am. Three more feet and I will be at the roof. I summon any strength I have left and drag us to the top by shear will power. As I make it over the edge, I feel something in my knee pop and the pain is instant and excruciating. I flop down (that’s all I can do) and struggle to untie the stranger. He is moaning and moving when I finally get him untied and let him plop gently onto the floor next to me. I sit there, trying to breathe and not throw up as I wait for the pain in my knee to subside. It doesn’t. Shit. I give myself five minutes, then I make myself move over to check on the stranger. He has stopped moving and moaning, which is probably bad, but it gives me another minute. The cut on his head isn’t deep, but it looks like he has been hit pretty hard, and it looks infected.
I glance around and was considering my options when I see Bunny, the newest and youngest Muffin, watching me wide-eyed. She is maybe three? I don’t know yet. She’s only been with us for two months and hasn’t said anything yet, just stared at us all while clutching a stuffed rabbit (hence ‘Bunny’ until she can pick her name).
“Hey Bunny,” I say, doing a great job at sounding like this is not an emergency. (I’m serious, I sounded very chill!) “Do you know where my robot leg is?” My robot leg is an outdated and poorly sized metal brace that I am supposed to wear around my left leg to help bear my weight. She nods. “Can you bring it to me?” She turns back to the shelter without saying anything, which I choose to interpret as a yes. A few minutes later, she comes back, dragging it behind her.
I wince as I move my leg to put it on. It’s a barbaric device: it is a metal scaffold that encases most of my leg. It has a bar that goes under my foot and two straps that need to be tightened painfully around my thigh, but with it, I can walk without putting any weight on my knee, which is what I need right now.
After I’ve got myself strapped in, I stand up and grab the stranger under the armpits. I lift him as much as I can and drag him the rest of the way into the shelter. I glance around as I go, looking for Bunny, but she has vanished. In fact, the shelter, which is usually full of Muffins, is deserted, silent, and none of the lights are lit. I should be worried about it, but with the stranger and with my knee, I don’t give it more than a passing thought. I maneuver the stranger over to the sleeping corner, the warmest and most cushioned spot we have. I lay the stranger down and turn to get the lights on.
I light the structure and see Bunny clutching the ratty bag I keep our med supplies in. “Thank you, Bunny,” I say as she hands it to me. “Do you mind helping?” she nods and carefully puts her doll down and crouches with me over the stranger’s head. He is young, a year or two older than me, but in really good health for the lower districts. His skin is dark, and his hair is red, he is tall and muscled: he doesn’t look like he is even from the upper districts. I begin to think he is not from the City at all.
There are people outside the walls. Everyone knows it, but the City is sealed off and no one speaks of what is outside. We know there are people out there, because that is where the Spoiled are sent, presumably, but I think everyone assumes the people out there are a sort of mindless, living dead group, incapable of trying to get back into the City. I know a little bit more, though.
I know that the people outside are healthier than us, but I also know you need to be strong to survive out there. I know your chances of surviving outside the walls as a spoiled are slim to none. I know that sometimes, for reasons I cannot fathom, the people on the outside want to come in. I am fairly sure the stranger is one of the Outsiders.
I examine the stranger’s wound while Bunny careful cleans it. It’s illegal for anyone except a MedKinght to treat the injured or sick, but down here in the lower districts, it’s a matter of survival to learn. He must’ve been hurt only a few days ago, but there is a bad smell and puss coming from it. I look in the med bag for inspiration, but there is nothing to save him from dying in a few days. I could try to steal something from the Upper District, but I am not even sure if what I need exists. It’s okay, though, I have another trick I can use.
For as long as I remember, if I concentrate, I can feel the life energy in the people around me. I can feel everything that is wrong with them, like dark spots in their energy. If I focus, and if I know how they are supposed to go back together, I can pull out the dark spots and pull their energy back into what it is supposed to be. I can’t do it for everything: when I tried to remove the Spoiling from a Muffin, I passed out for eight days and had a raging headache for over a month. It was so bad I couldn’t see straight. That was the last time I tried to cure something that big. I have never met anyone else who can heal people, although I can’t exactly go around asking “Hey, can you illegally heal people? No? Just me then.”
Right. As Bunny finished washing the stranger’s head, I close my eyes and concentrate. Threads of pulsing blue light weave and tangle together to create the stranger, and there, at his head, is a dark know to be untied. I frown, double checking, but I was right about the stranger being from outside the walls: he doesn’t have any Spoiling at all. Mentally, I reach out and untangle the knot, tugging loose the rotting thread that is the infection. I can feel the wound sealing up, and I hear Bunny gasp a little. I smile, but I keep my eyes closed.
I have dark brown eyes, but when I pull my little trick, they turn the bluest blue and stay like that for a little bit afterwards. When I think my eyes have returned to normal, I look at Bunny. She is excited and gesturing for me to look and the stranger’s perfectly healed head. He doesn’t even have a scar. “Pretty cool, isn’t it, Bunny? You have to keep it a secret though, okay? You can only tell the Muffins.” She nods seriously.
I look back at the stranger, now sleeping. He’ll wake up soon, and I need to tie him up in case he is less than appreciative. I gather some ropes, then hear a small voice behind me. “Um, Derick?” I whip around, and it’s Bunny. “I’m Betty,” she says.
I grin. “Good to meet you, Betty.”
A/n: My writing style will inevitably shift and change as the story goes, since I am still writing it. Please be patient: Once the story is complete, I will edit it to be more cohesive. What do you think so far?
Brenna Marie 