As only a silhouette in a cast shadow, a small, diminutive shape of a young boy turned in the streaks of orange, red, and yellow in the painted sky. A chilly, morning breeze blew at allay, passing through the figure and ruffling his chestnut hair. The rigid grass alongside him whistled faintly then went still, the wind only being a memory lost in time. The figure stood prominent, but within a few moments nattered himself to the other figure some few yards behind him
“I don’t really know.” The boy said with a shrug, quarrying his feet through the dark sidewalk.
The taller, manifest figure, a girl, took a few steps forward towards the boy. As another breeze went by, her tied back tresses blew back weakly as if being breathed on. She froze, tapping a foot impatiently.
“But Olive, what would some weedy kid like you be doing outside at this time in the morning? The clocks don’t even start for another hour.” The girl alleged, her voice being somewhat low and deep, but with a pang of foxiness.
“I would say so yourself, Viv.” Olive, the boy said; standing his ground as he pushed up his round, clear glasses.
“It’s the only freedom I’ve got.” The girl held her head high, pushing a lock of exceptionally dark brown hair back on her tanned skin. “At this point, I don’t even care if I’m caught.”
“I do. I don’t want to be troublesome.” Olive stuttered. “But lately I’ve just gotten urges, Vivian. I can’t explain them. They make me want to go somewhere. Do something. And I can’t rest or sleep because there’s that urge. Just like now. I’m not like how I was before. I have changed. And no matter where I go there I am. And here I am now. Just following the urge, Viv.”
“The leaves change, so do we.” Vivian crossed her arms, perceiving her surroundings.
It was, only the truth, on the subject of change after all. Vivian wasn’t the same person Olive met five years ago on a beating hot, tranquil day. Back then, Vivian was a shorter girl. Skinny. Still with her tanned, dark sort of expression and the piercing hazel eyes, but she grew like all human beings were meant to do. Her body filled out, becoming taller and more like a woman as the years went by. To Olive’s bewilderment, Vivian even grew a chest and the expressions she wore went from a doll-face to an expression in which one glance would have you lazered. But small Olive wasn’t quite like that. He never did grow, or fill out, or becoming any more of a boy then he was before. It was hard to believe a moral fiber like Vivian would somehow become to know Olive, a nobody’s-business boy of all people. In a society of equality and order, citizens would not pick on a boy like Olive, but neither would they join comrades with him. Same went with atypical Vivian. As outcasts, strays, and independent essences all secrets stayed within their spirit bonds. At least, that’s what was believed.
The two lonely shapes exchanged glances momentarily on the rich, warm dawn that befell on them. Time slowed, the pair inching closer along the sidewalk, astrayed from the rest of society. Nothing had a bearing in the moment, that was, until the rolling, squeeching sound of raw, rubber tires traced on the perfectly smooth, dark road could be heard from not too far off. Olive froze in place, his young, freckled and boyish looking face full of shock as he astounded, opened his mouth and looked back and forth across the way to Vivian, who in contrast loosened and lashed out with her legs towards Olive.
“Olive, towards the hills! Run!” Vivian hissed, her pushing back her straight hair in the loose ponytail she wore it in. “Don’t look back!”
The boy, called to his senses, suddenly leapt up and half-ran, half-stumbled through the stalks of dark green grass, which progressively turned into pampas as he went along. Vivian, having the advantage of her longer, filled out legs easily caught up to Olive and gave him a shove before they reached the most elevated point in the grasses. The vociferous automobile slowed, the motor strident as it overstepped the point where the silhouettes stood before. It paused, unmoving as it ran on gas idly. Vivian and Olive, unaware of the state and location of their fear, continued running along until Vivian, the bold and daring looked over her shoulder and just managed to make out the shape of the car on the road.
The car, discerning anyone there at a point had departed by now, slowly and vigilantly motored on down the road. Vivian took a deep breath, but carried on with ramming Olive on, persevering as they marched up a slope littered with dead grasses, tall and live ones, and treacherous, meshed roots. Olive, now laboring, put a hand on his knee and sputtered, glancing back every so often at Vivian as if to queue her into speaking, or even a simple command would have been enough to him.
“I don’t think the officials are going to get us this time.” Vivian mumbled, continuing to press on. “Better get over this hill just to be safe.”
After a good minute of exertion and tension, Olive alas finally stumbled over a particularly nasty looking root and it felled him. He rocked to the fore, and fell onto his chest in a most maladroit matter. Of course, Vivian hadn’t even lost her footing once, but Olive was the sheer opposite. As he rotated around and arranged his glasses, he snuffed up his nose and fraughtly looked up into Vivian.
“Oh please Vivian, I can’t go any longer.” Olive bleated and griped, the sweat trickling down his face.
“Whatever.” Vivian pushed Olive to the back of her mind, biting her lip as she put their situation into consideration.
She glanced into the light orange sky, her eyes narrowing in extreme odium and incense. She slammed a foot into the earth, the rich, thirsty soil crumpling under her effort. It was already breaking dawn, and Vivian knew she had to get Olive and herself back to their neighborhood before the end of the hour. If caught out of their homes before the official commencement of day, the officials would find the outcasts and punish them of some sort. Town talk said they had to work off their mistake, some say they have to go to a special building. But either way, citizens who are caught are never, ever seen again.
Vivian began to pace, her thoughts shifting to even the most acute ones. Lifting her ringed, spidery fingers into her hair she drove them through and tasseled with each strand. At first she guised at the direction of the neighborhoods, and then off to Olive who was miserably sprawled out on the ground. Hastily, she stepped off in the other direction off the edge of the hill. Where, curiously, it dropped slightly to reveal a rocky sort of gulch. The grasses gradually became to none, the soil becoming slabs of stone. Vivian, curious, continued to look around and about until her eyes met a bleak, gaping dim hole in the side of the gulch and to the right. Licking her perfectly white teeth, the girl swung around to face Olive with one of her typical, shrill gazes in which she dealt upon Olive.
“Why, Viv, it looks as though you wish to eat my soul.” Olive inadequately squeaked to Vivian. He cowered back.
“Maybe I will.” She quarreled sarcastically. “Anyway, we are going to go down the hill. Into the gulch here.”
“What? Are you crazy?” Olive, startled, almost leapt from his clothes. “What about returning?”
“Oh, Olive.” Vivian sighed, rolling her eyes in provocation at the boy. “Do you trust me?”
“No.” Olive stated, like a blank white page.
“Well, good.” Vivian shrugged, her expression hinting of radiance for only a moment. “Someone needs to be the voice of reason here.”
“Vivian, please.” Olive pleaded inconsolably. “This is not a time for you to go on one of your outbursts and get us all in trouble.”
Vivian hastily turned, lackadaisical. “The key word, kid? Incognito. Now come on.”
Olive, particularly vexed edgily came to his feet, the stiff weight of his body like lead. He dragged his feet along towards the edge of the hill where Vivian stood, aspiring that somehow she would change her mind. However, the sadistic girl stood stock still, unmoving until Olive alas made it to her side. She prudently craned her neck at him, and then motioned down the hill with her head, arms crossed. Olive, flabbergasted, gaped and looked into her callous eyes. Vivian narrowed them, once more flicking her head down the treacherous gulch. Olive shook his head, as Vivian stamped her foot impatiently.
“Vivian, can’t you go first?” Olive asked desperately, his eyes darting around.
“No.” Vivian obliged tediously. “If anything goes wrong, you can die first. And I’m fine with that.”
“You know, Vivian.” Olive objected coldly. “Your not too nice sometimes.”
“Look, kid.” Vivian chuckled coldly. “I’m not a bitch, I’m just honest.”
Olive’s eyes shot open, and he opened his mouth to speak and argue with Vivian once more. But she, the vice, gave him a light shove on his bony back and sent Olive tumbling down the sharp incline. Vivian cackled, but softly. Sure, she had a malevolence mind but all in all was too languid to put all heart into her laughter. She didn’t mind the fact Oliver could have hit his head on one of the large, flat rocks since it didn’t particularly have much to do with her. Pain for Oliver, but no different for herself was how Vivian saw it.
Oliver went head over heels a few times, but in the end landed harmlessly on the bottom of the gulch. He coughed and sputtered a few times, rubbing the dust off of his shirt and pants. He adjusted his glasses and came to his feet, Looking back up where he fell. And there Vivian was, easily stepping down the slope, putting her feet in each crook and cranny coolly. When she finished her hike, she bounded forward a few steps before composing herself again.
Vivian lifted the tips of her mouth into a faint smile, first at Olive and then into the cave. Just like before, it’s mouth was like a deep, obscure grave except this time it loomed ahead by only a few yards. Vivian took a deep breath, lifting her head and studying it a few times over. Olive pouted, clearly humiliated, and he looked into the arid earth expressionlessly.
Vivian, being headstrong padded forward until she was at the entrance of the vast tunnel. She breathed in, the metallic mineral smell wafting into her senses. She looked about ready to plunge in, but she turned to Olive who at this point was shaking tensely.
“Come on Olive.” Vivian called to him, motioning with her hand. “Let’s go. I have a plan.”
“Viv, I really don’t think so.” Olive pleaded, going to his knees. “We really, really could get in trouble with the officials for doing this…”
“Olive.” Vivian stepped up to him, grabbing the weedy boy by the top of his shirt and lifting him up. “You can agree with me, or you can be wrong. Your choice.”
“Fine!” Olive hollered, escaping from Vivian’s grasp. He huffed and puffed, storming forward until he was at the mouth of the cave.
“You coming?” He said under gritted teeth.
“That’s the spirit, kid.” Vivian cackled under her breath.
The two figures ventured into the darkness, their bright, elaborate figures becoming only a blur in the new dim setting. The mouth of the labyrinth appeared to swallow each of them whole, and at first there was a load of bumping and scuffling in the bleak light. After a bit, Vivian had pushed Olive at the wall, lifted his hand and placed it on the cold, stone surface. She did the same, and the two of them scooted along, feeling their way in.
It took them more time than necessary to finally adjust somewhat to the light, and even then they could hardly see a thing. Both of the children’s vision had only changed enough to allow them to see layers in shades of black and purple. They could perceive well enough to distinguish the walls from the remainder of the tunnel, but that was all that mattered. Eventually, the rebels tore their hands from the wall and carried on in a normal fashion down the tunnel. Occasionally, one would stumble over a small, diminutive rock but it was not enough to slow them down.
“Vivian, mind me asking, but what are we doing?” Olive asked, bemused.
“Hiding.” Vivian replied, patently. “Council doesn’t care if we don’t show up to where we need to be. Council only cares if we get caught doing what we weren’t supposed to. But it’s not like they’ll find us here. So we’ll just camp out here till night, and we can sneak right back.”
“Well, what about the night guards, Viv?” Olive said back, vexed.
“Haven’t thought of that yet.” Vivian replied blankly, making a hand motion in the process.
They continued down the cave, going on and on. For sure, the children thought soon it would taper into a nary path and then stop, but the cave simply didn’t. It seemed to go on and on, never ending. There were points where it twisted, where it went down, but every time it went down it always surfaced again. Olive had his doubts, and even the proud Vivian seemed to falter. The morale was low for the first thirty minutes of walking the solemn, dim path. But not too long after that, Vivian, the most sure-footed in the group let alone the town, rammed into a slab of wood and nearly toppled over herself.
The next few seconds were particularly hazardous, with Vivian screeching to a halt and Olive ramming her from behind. Olive’s glasses smashed into his face as he glided into Vivian, then bounded backwards ineptly. Vivian hissed under her breath, whirling around to the boy, then back to the wood slab that jutted out from air.
“Vivian, what’s that?” Olive asked in trepidation.
Vivian did not respond to the question, her ego not daring to admit she didn’t know. Better to not say anything at all instead of sounding like a fool, she thought. Once she regained herself, the girl stepped forward and put her hands over the wood. Now that she had a better look at it, she realized the wood was the top of a wide, broad table. As she ran a hand over it, the wood splintered and dust stuck to Vivian’s finger. It sure was old, she concluded. She cautiously stepped forward a little more, feeling more along the table.
The same feeling seemed to drone on, as she continued to explore intrepidly. But suddenly, just then, Vivian’s hand hit something new. She curled back, the feeling coming as a shock because she had never felt it before. But Vivian, daringly, challenged herself again and reached down. In her grasp she pulled up a fluttering, dusty feeling strip of something she couldn’t quite put her tongue on. She couldn’t see, but she ran her hands along it. The surface was smooth, very smooth, and it was extraordinarily flat. When Vivian shook it, the strip followed the wind she made then went back to drooping down.
Vivian dropped the strip, watching it sway in the air before sliding across the stone floor. She returned to the table, looking quizzically around and sliding her hands along the surface. She felt many more of the strips, and curiously shuffled them along the table. She went farther and farther, running her hands along the table until at one point she hit a more solid object. Vivian closed her hands along it, lifting the object into the air. On the front, back, and left she felt a solid, closed sort of material and the front had ridges. Curious, she felt along the rest of the object and noticed several hundred of the strips were one on top of the other in between the hard swathe.
“Olive, I think I’ve found something.” Vivian spat coolly over to Olive, who cowered against the stone, frosty wall.
“What is it?” The boy solicited, slowly padding over to Vivian who held up the dusty object.
“Hold this. Tell me what you think.” Vivian shoved the pressed together strips into Olive’s grasp, furrowing her brow in confusion.
Olive tossed the object a few times in his hands. It would flutter a bit and open when in the air, but it would fold together and land back in Olive’s hands on the way down. He lifted the hard top, and flipped strip after strip. Neither of them could see a thing, so all the rebels could do was touch until they found light.
Vivian was already pacing around the room, feeling the smooth and damp walls. She glanced around and about, looking up and down as she went. Occasionally, she would look back to the center at the table where Olive carried on inspecting the peculiar thing. Vivian stamped the earth impatiently, gritting her teeth as she tried to find a light source.
“Olive, do you have anything we could use to make light? Anything?” She quarreled, on the edge. “A Lucifer? Even a, dare I say it, old flashlight?”
“No. I don’t know about you but I was sure when I left this morning I wouldn’t have to run on end into a dark cave.” Olive cackled sarcastically. “We’ve got nothing.”
“Figures.” Vivian shook her head, banging her fist against the wall, her muscles tightening from her force. But in the end, she turned around with a sigh, and slunk against the wall, closing her eyes. She held her hands to her face, digging her fingernails into her own flesh.
“We can’t do anything until we do.” Vivian sighed, letting her body relax. “So for now, we’ll just wait here.”
Olive, too, let himself drop. He mumbled, just loud enough for Vivian to hear. “Vivian, I’m hungry.”
“I know, Olive. I know.”
The two spent the vast remainder of the day feeling the strange materials and objects, and speaking to fill the silences. And alas, when both Vivian and Olive’s eyes began to drop, they knew it was time to head back. The trip back through the mouth of the cave took less time then it did before, because of the sheer fact they had learned to get to know all of the crooks and crannies. Before long, the rebels had erupted out of the entrance and into night. The land was just as it was before, except this time the shades had gone down to grays and blues, and the sky was a dark tone of navy. All specked throughout there were little twinkling white gems, the light to the darkness of night. The pair, at that point, had to go through the effort of climbing back up the gulch and hiking through the rough, itchy grass. When they alas reached the flatter terrain on the outskirts of town, both children glanced both ways on the streets. Every few blocks a lone, solemn figure walked rows. Up, and down, his hand always resting against something glittering and silver in his pocket. Vivian and Olive dared not to know what it was, though, but they never should. One should never have to make eye contact with a night guard, and this was no exception. But the two managed to slink away, silent and blending with the night as the slipped into their homes.
The next day, the dire rebels met at the same time in the same place along the road. The sky had the same, painted look and same shades as yesterday, only this time the artist had done a different precedent and a different blend of colors. On this day, the wind blew and thundered in, sweeping the grass in different formations. Olive, stock still on the concrete, had a bag slung over his shoulder, which occasionally would catch in the wind and rock back and forth. Vivian, boorish to the conditions, dragged beside him with her straight, dark hair blowing.
Olive opened his mouth to speak, but the wind continued to whistle and there was no doubt an impendeding storm was on the way. Vivian put a hand forward, hushing Olive, and motioned for him to cut into the lush, sweeping grassland. Each long stalk of the lush plant was like a snake, coiling from the wind, then snapping one way or another ready to strike. This time, no car interrupted their escapade, and they could easily pace themselves along the route.
After some good minutes of departure, the pair alas made it over the hilltop. It was as solid and noble as before, but the nearly dead tree with a few, dismal leaves fluttered around and swayed. The twisting solid seemed to shake the earth, and as the minutes passed by the light wind began to roar. Both rebels stumbled down the gulch, the wind knocking them to the side.
Vivian shuffled into the mouth of the cave, darkness engulfing her. Olive was not too far behind, and he stumbled inside of the deep hole, wind swept and confounded. Vivian sighed, fixing her now scruffy hair, and then turned back to Olive who was frozen, wild-eyed.
“Olive, fetch me the Lucerna, will you?” Vivian half-heartedly asked Olive, who furrowed his brow and reached into his pack.
He dug around a bit, before pulling out a small, bronze object with a smooth, navy side. Olive threw it over to Vivian, who skillfully caught it between her hands. She glanced over at it, running her fingers along the bronze, cold to touch ridges until she tightly squeezed the navy strip with her fingers and the top part exploded open, shooting extremely bright light around the figures in an eight-foot radius.
The flashes of light struck the walls around them, revealing shimmering and damp blue-grey walls that went up and down, in no particular pattern. Ahead, the tunnel drifted right, so Vivian chuckled, shaking her head. She grinned, walking forwards with the circle of light following her as she went. Olive trailed behind, his feet already beginning to ache.
“Oh Vivian, do we really have to go so far?” Olive droned, tired from his weaker body.
“Oh Olive, do I really have to listen to you complain?” Vivian mimicked, turning to him with a sarcastic frown.
“Ugh, Vivian!” Olive cracked in an annoyed, frustrated and defeated tone. He gritted his teeth, kicking a small rock.
Vivian smirked, power walking along the cave. Now that they had light, it was much easier to see where they were going. Vivian, fit with her muscles rippling expeditiously went on. Olive, now cranky, went at a slower pace. From his fatigue, his legs were like solid shards that stayed straight and stiff when he moved. For every time Vivian easily sprung off her feet, it became a little harder for Olive.
At last, the two dissenters made way to the great room on the end of the hallway. Vivian then stopped, and sprang to the side to Olive who, huffing and puffing, tilted forward and caught his breath. Vivian, without wanting to waste Olive and hers breath, pulled the zipper down on Olive’s pack and dug her hand on. She pulled out a gold gimmick, much like the Lucerna but with a spout on one end. By the handle there was a protruding end, which could be pressed in, and Vivian swapped the Lucerna for the new object, a Lucifer. She held it in her hands and aimed point blank into the large hall, pulling in with the piece. A great, bright ball of light shot out of the spout and went into the middle of the room. It hovered for a few seconds, like a sun up high, but then rays of light stretched from the ball and engulfed the room with light. That was the moment when both Olive and Vivian were in awe with the room they could now see perfectly.
The first place their eyes drifted to was the long table in the center of the circle-shaped room. The wood seemed somewhat rotten, and resembled an abnormally long picnic bench. On top, like before, were the rectangular-shaped strips only this time they were visible. It was no doubt that they were still dry and extremely thin, but this time Vivian and Olive could see colors. The strips were a faded tan, especially yellowed around the edges. Centered almost perfectly around the middle were random lines and scratches of black, resembling different sorts of patterns that Olive and Vivian could not interpret. They were spread out everywhere, and in the middle of the fray was the more solid object with the strips inside. The shell over it, now with color, was a leathery sort of brown and on the cover as well was the indents with the pointless patterns. Even Vivian raised a brow as she continued to scour the room.
The cave went a little ways up, making a spacey feel around the objects in the room. The walls even had a few strips pasted on at higher angles, some fallen and others still hanging by a thread. On the table, a lone, silver latticed dish stood rusty and solemn over the wood. In the dish was a pointed, straight and narrow needle-like object with many bands of a fuzzy looking material, almost like hair, but looking more stiff and wet. Vivian inched forward, picking up the dish to see a dry and hardened dark blue sort of liquid that was now faded to a memory in the sides of the dish. It went up the long, needle-like object and on the tapering end. Vivian put the dish back down in haste, and picked up one of the strips.
“Olive, you’ve got a decent-sized brain, what do you make of these?” Vivian asked lowly, staring at the strange symbols.
Olive curiously strided forward, picking one up himself. “I’m not sure. I have no idea what these symbols even are. Let alone what this thing is.”
Olive flapped the tanned strip in the air, it fluttering about. Vivian narrowed her eyes at the rectangular piece, then to the black, scratched symbols. She was there, still and as concentrated as could be, as she studied the symbols and looking for any sort of pattern. As she looked, not all of the symbols seemed like pointless scratches. Some curved elegantly, but others were hard lines. She noticed some symbols repeated, and there were other, smaller ones that wrapped around or came after the others.
“Olive, you don’t suppose these mean something, do you?” Vivian furrowed her brow, rubbing her fingers on the crispy yellow edges.
“They don’t look like anything at all.” Olive shrugged, adjusting his glasses. “They look quite curious, though.”
“Look.” Vivian mumbled under her breath, holding it close to the Lucifer ball. “Look… Look…”
“What did you say there?” Olive asked, not changing his glance.
“Nothing, nothing.” Vivian pushed Olive away in her mind. She looked back down at the paper. “Look…”
She thought deeply in her head, digging out anything she had ever learned at any point. She thought of the word ‘look’, and then glimpsed back down on the strip. She mumbled the word under her breath, dissecting it in her mind. She thought of how she said it, and what style. How she held the middle in a longer sound. Look. Narrowing her eyes, she looked back at the paper, furiously glancing back and forth from the symbols until she reached across one with four symbols, the two in the middle resembling each other. They were simple, two circles going on lap around and then stopping. Once more, Vivian mumbled the word under her breath, how it held, then looked back at the piece. At that moment, her eyes shot open and the strip flew from her hand.
“Olive!” She bawled, Olive only looking up. “Olive, good grief! I think I get it!”
“Get what?” He asked curiously, giving Vivian a look.
“The symbols.” Vivian waved her arms furiously, then snatched the flat, fluttering piece from Olive’s arms. “They have patterns. The way we speak does too. If you compare them… then… I don’t really know, but it just seems right…”
“Vivian, if you would like my honest opinion, I think you’re going a tad crazy.” Olive grinned, taking the paper back. “But now that I think of it, yes, there is a pattern.”
“Just compare what you say…” Vivian nodded, speaking quietly. “It might match up. I’m not crazy. I’m really not.”
And so, Vivian continued to speak, and did not stop until the final hour of day when her voice was nearly faded. She would say several different things at a time, then snatch up a fluttering strip and study if one of the grouped symbols could make sense to what she spoke. Olive only looked around at each, but seeing as Vivian actually began to make progress, he joined in as well. The two never stopped once, relentlessly looking about. And when they at last collected the yellow ball of the Lucifer and made for home, many of the strange symbols had been translated and figured out.
When the two exited their secret tunnel, the ground was especially damp with puddles and gloom of the like. The navy, dappled sky had no swirling grey clouds, and whatever had been there before was now gone. All remnants of the storm were only roadblocks to Vivian and Olive, making their climb back up especially slippery and took them extra time. The rebels noticed they were in the tunnel longer then they intended to, at least one turn of the clock more then the day before. But, like yesterday, they managed to slip into their metallic, modern shaped homes unseen.
It was on the third day when both Vivian and Olive returned to their secret hideaway, only this time much earlier then before. The vast skies still slept peacefully in a blanket of darkness, and the earth was shadowed from the lack of light. This time, they needed to sneak around the night guards, but once they times their run right, it became to problem to pass by. Their going to the cave was now almost routine, and both dire rebels could find their way along with their eyes closed. Olive even began to master the climb down into the gulch, and less and less he would stumble.
Like before, Vivian would simply light her Lucerna on their venture into the room, then shoot out a ball of light from her Lucifer. Everything was just how they left it, the sheets still blown about the table. The walls were still moist, and only a faint, eerie whistle could be heard that toured through the walls and hissed when it came by. Vivian paused, looking to the side as she listened to the blows.
“Olive, do you hear them?” She asked the boy, who cautiously turned around to her.
“Them?” He said, frightened. “Someone is here?”
“The voices in the walls.” She baffled. “Telling us to figure it out. To crack the code.”
“Vivian, I don’t ever know of you to talk nonsense, but you really are now.” Olive said, austere as he picked up a strip. “I don’t know what this is, but it certainly isn’t calling to me- that’s for sure.”
Vivian completely ignored Olive as she too picked up a strip. She looked it up and down, muttering under her breath trying to find a signal. She bit her lip, casually slinking against the chilled, sodden wall. Her eyes narrowed, deep in thought. They glazed over with thoughts and ideas, while Olive shifted about, picking up sheet after sheet. They went through this for hours, not uttering a word to each other, until Vivian suddenly jumped up.
“Olive, I think I know what this is.” Vivian shook the strip in front of Olive. “I’ve been studying this, and trying to figure it out. And I think, that this thing right here- is something called ‘paper.’”
“Paper, huh?” Olive said, his eyes flickering with a faint grasp of curiosity. “Never heard of it.”
“Neither have I.” Vivian shrugged, sitting back down.
Hour after hour, the pair flipped from paper to paper trying to figure out what everything might mean. At many times, one of the two would throw their paper into the air, frustrated and unable to figure something out. But even though they would be flustered, after time they would pick their paper up again and continue to set their gaze on each and every symbol. The attempt to figure it all out was especially difficult, but one would finally discover the meaning behind each single symbol, and could eventually piece those together.
Vivian was the original pioneer to the meanings, and she set the standard as she revised through line after line. But Olive, listening in on what she had to say, eventually caught on and ties loose ends. He too scratched his head at certain things, but as the hours passed by for each mistake one of the two insurgents would figure something out.
But alas, once Vivian’s eyes gloomed over and Olive stifled a yawn, they knew it was time to end. Not that they wanted to, for they were just beginning to really get a hang of these inscriptions on the paper. But time, unforgiving, did continue to move on and reluctantly Vivian and Olive slinked back home, hidden under the stars. Neither one had a true feeling for day, since in the past three days they were never outside for it. They would fill the bag with some food, and scamper out and hide away until night fell and swallowed all remnants of day.
This time, on the way back, Vivian and Olive needed to dodge a few extra night guards. Day by day they cut it even closer, and on their rounds they ended up right in front of their shimmering homes. However, they managed to pass by, and enter the magnificent curved domiciles without a sound.
On the fourth day, Vivian and Olive awoke themselves even earlier than they did before. Having only caught a wink of sleep, they clambered from their beds and crept outside. The coast, luckily, was clear and they shuffled out. No one saw them running off into the prairie grass, heading over the gulch, or entering the cave. It was a miracle they had go unseen for this long, and both Olive and Vivian knew it might only be a matter of time before someone would catch them leaving. But not today, they thought to themselves. Once more, they were the ravenous explorers, ambling to their prey and stopping at nothing.
Once all was set, instead of grabbing a paper like all the days before, Vivian decided she would grab the large stack of papers enclosed by the harder surface that wrapped around. She attempted to find out just what the engravings were on the top part, but those she couldn’t decipher quite yet. Vivian flipped through the pages of paper, picking and choosing on which she wanted to look at. At last, she paused somewhere along the beginning and spoke out loud. Olive turned to her, curious, and her speaking was a slur at first until she, confidently, managed to piece them together well but still was slow.
“Let you alone!” She raised a brow, and carried on speaking it out loud. “That’s all very well, but how can I leave myself alone? We need not to be alone. We need to be really bothered once in a while. How long is it since you were really bothered? About something important, about something real?”
“Viv, what’s that mean?” Olive asked quizzically, looking up from his paper.
“I have no idea. It’s just what this thing says.” Vivian shrugged, and continued to look up and down the pages. “What it mentions is curious. It commonly mentions something called a ‘book’ but it’s not like I’m supposed to know what that means, either.”
“Then ask it what it means. Wouldn’t it be a great thing if, to our command, we could understand? Just like that? But alas, we can’t.” Olive shrugged, shaking his head. “No one can.”
“So I see…” Vivian didn’t mind Olive’s words as she stood up, nodding deep in thought. “I know what a book is. It’s what I’m holding now. And what I’m doing now, is reading, reading these lovely little things called words. We speak them. But never have I ‘read’ them.”
“Words?” Olive dropped his paper on the ground. “Reading? I don’t get it. Why are all of these things so alien to us?”
Vivian flashed through the pages, reading intently for a moment before she finally dropped the book to the earth and spun around once. She flexed her arms, stretching her neck as she faced the wall. Olive could hear her breathing, loudly roaring as it went through her teeth, but finally Vivian whirled back around, a fire lit in her eyes,
“I understand now.” She scowled under gritted teeth. “I get it. This is what society doesn’t want us to know. It’s secrets. Every day, kid, every damn day we do the same thing. Wake up, eat, do rounds, sleep. Don’t do what your not supposed to. Don’t doubt what society makes for us. The only time we hear others talk is on our few, scrappy hours of free time or on the screen. God, the screens! If something needs to be said then we just switch on the big screen and listen. We listen to the officials tell us just what needs to be said! We can’t even speak up because nobody wants to listen to us. We are the minions, the puppets of society! But we, we have found otherwise. We discovered the ability to read. This is exactly what they want us to avoid. They never want us to think. But we can. This is their worst enemy, what we have discovered. It shows different ideas, different themes from this society. A different face to what they bring upon us. And they forbid it, they hide this magic from us because they never want us to doubt that they are the elite! But they are the cowards, they hide in fear of this magic, this inscription forever left on earth, because there are others like us who will doubt them. They fear this; this inferno; piloted by something so powerful. And this powerful force that we read, that we discovered, kid, is freedom.”
“Freedom.” Olive muttered. “I like it.”
“I like it too.”
Vivian ended up returning to the first page of the book, slowly inching through the words and trying desperately to memorize them and learn them as she went on and on. She would squint, throw the book in frustration, but eventually she moved on. Occasionally she would need to pass some of the words she didn’t know of, but as the hours flew by she went farther and farther in. Olive in return tried to crack the code behind the papers, all varying in their theme and some were even signed on the end. He chewed the edge of his nails as she sat on the table, holding the papers up to the light. Both rebels began to grow tired and droop with their eyes, but they carried on.
Vivian shifted and adjusted on the ground, feeling a shiver of an ache going up her back from sitting in the same position so long, but she ignored it. Her skin was itching as the suspense grew when she ascended farther and farther into the book, and she tapped her hands and feet as she flicked her straight hair tied back around.
They grew more and more tired, but Vivian never said a word. Olive began to lose focus, worrying about the hour the clocks were at. Quizzical, he whirled around to Vivian who didn’t even look up from her book.
“Vivian, don’t you think we should be getting back? I feel like were cutting it late tonight.” He nervously asked, looking back and forth as if something would appear from the shadows and snatch him up.
“Not yet. I’m getting to a good part. We can wait a little longer.” Vivian shook her head, bringing the book closer to her face. “Its such an art.”
Olive shrugged, turning back to his work. He tried looking at another paper, signed and crumbled, and he managed to get through a few lines. Words he interpreted before were now becoming nothing and meaningless, and he found it difficult to hold his gaze from his now glazing eyes from exhaustion.
Vivian was still, breathing faintly under her black tank top loose against her tan skin. The gentle hissing wind blew her tassels around a tad, but Olive stood still and stiff. He got through one more line on the paper before jumping off from the table and slamming the piece against the rotted wood. It splintered into his hand, and Olive grimaced as he faced Vivian. He bit his lip, then called.
“My god Vivian, we need to go now.” Olive desperately told her. “It’s late, and we need to get back.”
“Fine. Whatever.” Vivian hastily stood, a sense of annoyance in her tone. “But I’m bringing the book with me.”
“No!” Olive shouted, adjusting his glasses. “Imagine how much trouble you would be in if you were caught with it.”
“Well, we wont get caught. Plain and simple.” Vivian absorbed the light back on the Lucifer, then made way out to the hall.
Olive, still shaking from trepidation, followed the girl back out. He was frightened from the fact both rebels had cut it late tonight, far later than before, and he knew from what they discovered today that if they were found with the book then things would not end well. His gaze glowered, and he kept glancing both ways as if something would grab him. However, the earth stayed silent and all that was around them were the walls and the light.
After a good walk, they came over the gulch which this time didn’t have the normal dark purple hint from the stars and sky. Curious, Olive looked down and then up. The sky was still dark, but only a few stars remained. This put his hair on end and he shivered as they climbed the hill. Even though they perfected their climb from times before, this time they stumbled from exhaustion and anxiety.
They finally reached the top, and set their sights on the metallic, futuristic town with tech buzzing about. They reached the edge of the hill on top of the gulch, and that was when they set their sites elsewhere. Out of the corner they could see the sun begin to rise, quite quickly and richly. It’s rays struck the dark, chocolaty sky of infinity and the artist of above began to paint the sky as he did every morning. Fearfully, Olive looked into Vivian’s eyes. She was frozen, and all she could do was look back with a hushed sense of anticipation. Both of them knew it; they could be very, very close.
Vivian without a word slipped the book into her pocket and took off running through the grass. Olive, too frightened to call out, raced after her with a headwind fighting them, telling them to turn back. But they continued, flying down rows and rows of never ending grass. They raced time, and time made the sun rise even more faster then and it grew much larger in the sky. The clocks started early today, but either child dared not to admit the fact that they could be too late.
Shaking out of their skin, the pair inched out of the tall grasses. At first, they thought they could make it and they had until a sharp pang of reality hit them. On the streets, civilians marched steadily towards the Morning House where they would gather their breakfast. Too late, too late, the thoughts erupted in the teenagers’ minds. The thought passed through their minds that they could slink in with the rest of the group, but it ended as soon as they saw the green-coated official striding towards them, hand against the silver shine by his pants.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He hissed, his grayed hair on end from anger.
Olive nervously glanced to Vivian, the girl who always had something to say. But even she was frozen, a desperate and beaten glint in her eye. She lowered her head, broken, and without knowing it reached her hand towards her pocket. The official’s gaze followed her movement, and seeing what she had his temper burst. He thrust his hand out, seizing the book between his large and clammy hands.
“Don’t you dare!” Vivian shouted, all anger and hatred erupting off of her tongue.
The official continued to pull back, but not until Olive, now in shock, saw Vivian curl her arm back and throw a punch and landed her fist square between the official’s eyes. He bounced back, dropping the book and Olive snatched it up. Vivian once again threw a punch at the official, throwing him off. He was bigger and more powerful, but Vivian had the art of surprise. When she noticed he fell back, she kicked him in the chest and he fell completely over, disgruntled and yelling.
Three other official’s, all making sure civilians were going where they needed to be, were lured to the commotion. They began to shout, and sprinted at the two head on. It didn’t take too long for them to reach the two, and Vivian then let her arms drop to her side. She could take on one, but not four. The official she taught a lesson was now back on his feet and sustaining Vivian. One other approached her, putting the girl in cuffs while the other two swiftly put Olive in bonds as well. He didn’t put up much of a fight, but nor did Vivian. They were defeated, and they hung their heads in agony as they were marched off the road.
The next hour was a blur. Both rebels’ vision had faded from exhaust and terror. They remembered getting shoved into one of the cars like they saw three days ago, stiff and unmoving from how tight they were held. Every inch of it was locked, and two of the officials sat up front. Olive gritted his teeth in anticipation, praying somehow it would be ok. He looked to Vivian, the girl who always had an answer, but she only hung her head over, eyes closed in shame. He dared not disrupt her in a time like this, but nor should they. If they spoke, the officials would have none of that.
After a lengthy drive filled with many bumps and tight turns, the car slowly screeched to a halt on an uphill incline. At that moment, both kids brightened their gaze a little and looked up to see a small, rusted and grey metal building. It had one floor, and was a perfect square on top of a little hill with lush and blowing green grass. There were six tiny windows, two in front, and the rest around the walls. The door had many locks, and had a large bar and scanner out front.
Before they knew it, the pair were shuffled out and each being led by an official. The glimmer of sadness did not leave their eyes once as they tripped up the remainder of the hill. Vivian sighed, a strand of hair falling over her face. She couldn’t even push it away though, and all was silent and mourning until the official leading Olive spoke out.
“The interrogation room, huh?” He chuckled, his voice deep and low. “Gonna lead to room x, like the rest of ‘em.”
“I bet they make it by the end of the day.” The scrunch-faced official with blonde hair leading Vivian said. “They did quite the crime.”
The taller, deep-speaking official approached the door and put his hand on the scanner. It analyzed his prints for a moment before turning green and clicking, all of the locks opening. He lifted the bar, opening the door as the officials dragged the rebels into the small, dimly lit room. Right away they noticed two black, shiny chairs against the wall and a wooden desk up front. A mean, grey-haired man in green like the officials sat against the chair at the desk. He was like the others, except on his shirt was a golden badge that hung faintly. At his side was a tall brown-haired guy, probably in his late thirties, and two other officials stood on each side of the room.
Forcefully, the officials guiding Vivian and Olive pushed them into the black chairs. Once that was said and done, they exited the room, closing the bar over the door and leaving the six figures in silence.
Olive looked over at Vivian, and her gaze was transfixed at the desk. The leader official was deep in conversation with the one by his side, and right away the teenagers recognized just who they were. The leader was President Raymond Ross, and every day spread the messages on the screens. Next to him was second in command, Captain James Rowley. Vivian looked them up and down, and Olive noticed she pushed her tongue around her mouth, and discreetly spat something into her lap. But Olive couldn’t see, and eventually Ross looked up with a smirk on his face and began to talk.
“Well, well, well.” He chuckled, rubbing a hand over his short hair. “Two kids and a pile of things.”
Non of them answered, and Ross spoke up again. “Coming here for escaping duty, assaulting another officer, failing to comply, and carrying the forbidden book.”
He got up from his chair and crouched down by Olive, who shook in his bonds. “I bet you know just what that is, huh? Has this been what you’ve been doing?”
He grinned, turning around when he stood up. “Is it understood here that something like that is not even allowed to be spoken of? Are we all on the same page?”
“How could you…” Vivian shook her head and muttered under her breath.
“Say that again, princess?” Ross teased, coming close to her face.
“How could you!” She raised her voice. “All this time you kept this hidden and tucked away! You knew what it is, but you hid it from society! Instead of having freedom, you give us order and equality. No choices. But we discovered what choice and freedom is. We read. We know. And I cannot believe you forbid us from thinking, from imagining other ways. All these years I spent my life sitting behind a screen, watching, and listening. But now I speak. I can be heard. We can be heard.”
Ross grinned a toothy smile, his blue eyes gazing to Vivian who, defeated, let her head hang again. He paced around the room, his boots clinging against the metal surface. All was silent for a few minutes, him sitting at his desk and shuffling through a few papers. But then, he rose again and stood in front of both rebels. He laughed, then spoke again to break the silence.
“Rowley, sentence them to the room of execution.” He chuckled, turning his back.
“You got it, Boss. I’ll-“ He began to speak. But Olive then rose and yelled out.
“No! You cannot do that to us!” He cried out, being driven more by fear than anything else. “You cannot hide reading, and books, and freedom and all the like from society.”
“Yes I can.” Ross froze and grinned, turning back around. “And do you know why?”
“Yes.” Vivian said coldly, her eyes glazed over in ice. “Because you are cowards.”
Just then, only Olive heard an unmistakable click come from Vivian’s seat and he saw her bonds fall to the floor. She leapt from her seat, first passing the object she used to get free into Olive’s lap. She closed her fists around the chair and chucked it as hard she could, aimed at Ross’s head. The man was still confused from what was going on, and her aim was true and he toppled over, very out if it. The two officials ran at Vivian, and Rowley first crouched over Ross. Each one came at Vivian from both sides.
She flashed out with her elbow, slamming it into the first one as hard she could. Olive shuddered at a snap of a rib, and Vivian whirled around at the other one. She kicked his feet out from under him, and he tumbled to the hard metal floor. The other one then came back and threw a punch at Vivian, but she leaped to the side and slammed a punch at the official from the left. The one that she felled was now on his feet again, and he charged at Vivian and his aim did cause her to lose balance and throw her off for a moment, but she skipped to the side and set her aim at his head. With all her might she let it loose, and the official fell to the earth, finished.
By now, Olive was getting his bonds loose and stared at Vivian in awe. He had no idea where she learn such skills, and wild-eyed he watched her brutalized the other official. Vivian was a girl of secrets however, and Olive knew she was tough. But even so, he wondered just how she could take down the well-trained officials like she was years and years ahead of them.
She threw another punch at the official, and just then Olive got free. He yelled out. “Vivian, I’m loose! I’m loose!”
She completely paused from what she was doing and lifted the chair from the ground, throwing it with all her strength at the window above the chairs. It clattered and broke, opening a small space big enough for a person to fit through. She kicked the official one last time before he fell beside the other, and she ran forward at Olive. He got up from his seat, looking in her eyes and wondering what to do.
“Olive, run and don’t look back.” She hissed under her breath as she reached for him.
Olive’s eyes flashed back from three days before, when they were just out in the morning minding their own business. They saw an approaching official car, and ran far to the cave and wherever their feet took them. And how they discovered something to great and learned it to this day. But then he shook his head back to reality, as Vivian lifted him up to the window. He crouched over at the edge, seeing freedom before his eyes, and he reached his hand out at Vivian.
“Vivian, take my hand!” Olive yelled to Vivian, who continued to face the boy.
But then, his eyes flashed with a revolutionary fear. From behind Vivian, he noticed Rowley stick his hand in a drawer and pull out a long, silver blade that flashed in the light that poured in from the broken frame. He stepped towards Vivian, and Olive yelled out in terror.
“Vivian!” He yelled, blood-curling. Vivian whirled around, and for the first time Olive saw a hint of fear in her eyes.
Rowley, seeing as Vivian turned around and stood still and shocked, drove the blade up and into her gut. Vivian was rammed back against the wall, instinctively trying to avoid it, but his mark was true and Olive knew it was from the metallic whoosh sound it made. Vivian froze, her hands around the newfound wound, and slowly began to slink to the ground. Olive cried out, but nothing would prevent the sinister look on Rowley’s face as he grinned, with each second draining Olive’s best friend’s life away.
At first, he was shocked. Vivian never once showed any sign of caring about Olive, not did she ever say she did. But now, she had just saved his life and put herself in the way of getting out. She brought him out the window first, and at that moment, Olive truly realized- the only thing bigger than Vivian’s ego was her heart.
She sputtered a few words, choking on her breath. “Run… don’t look back…”
Olive looked back and forth, fearing and not knowing what to do. But with the fear embedded in him, he jumped from the window onto the smooth green grass and began to run. He stumbled down the hill, his foot being caught on rocks. He went slightly west, not wanting to hit his town. He didn’t know what drove him. He just ran, and ran, and ran. He ran like something was chasing him, and when he finally stumbled and fell over one rock he noticed the book spill from his pack to the earth. His face wet with tears, he picked up the novel and hugged it close to his chest. And so, he carried on, not once looking back.