Idiosyncratic Page 2

  Yet again No’ll’s arms were upon me, only this time he tucked me into his chest as he slipped into the closest carriage. “Don’t worry,” he whispered.

  I shook him off me, pushing his hands away, and narrowed my eyes at him. How could he be so calm? I headed toward the window, working at the lock. No’ll was at my side, whispering into my ear. “I’ve been through plenty of attacks by the Astronauts. Although I wouldn’t really call them attacks. They always seem to be looking for someone specific. If you stay out of their way, they won’t hurt you.”

  I gave up and rammed my shoulder into the window. It must be nice to live in a world with cheery hopes, I thought.

  “Stop, Les’ette. It will be okay. You can trust me.”

  “You willing to stake your life on that?”

  He grabbed me, spinning me around to face him. “No, something more important. I would stake yours.”

  With that, our door skidded open and the Astronaut marched in. I clutched No’ll closer, protectively, fearfully, fervently. He cannot die for me, I resolved. That’s going just a bit too far.

  He hid as much of me as he could within the folds of his arms, pressing my face against his chest. I could hear the thrumming of his heart as the creature marched up to us. I tried to push away, but No'll wouldn’t let me.

  Suddenly a hiss of static penetrated my mind. The black-and-white static grew behind my eyelids, swift and severe. No’ll and I crumbled into one another. I couldn’t feel the ground as my knees collided with it. My hearing became muffled. This invasion corrupted all my senses, even filling my mouth with a putrid, rotten taste.

  “She can’t hear you!” No’ll screamed.

  The static receded. Our heavy breathing surrounded us.

  “It wants to see your face,” No’ll said.

  I nodded as I pulled away from him. I saw my emerald-freckled face and green irises in the chrome visor of the Astronaut's helmet. The back was an iron type of metal, latched tight to the suit. The Astronaut held up its hand, and another crackle of static hissed into my mind. It stared at me for an uncomfortable amount of time before it turned to leave.

  “Wait!” No’ll moronically called out.

  What is he doing? I wondered. Maybe he really doesn’t have any self-preservation instincts? Maybe he just wants it all to be over? This boy is crazier than I thought possible.

  The Astronaut stopped and turned around slowly.

  “My brother. Your people have him. Is he okay?” No’ll's voice was shaking. There was so much pain in his words. I’d never known anything about his life before the Orphanage, let alone the fact that he had a brother. I didn’t want to know. Unlike No’ll, I tried my very best not to indulge in mysteries when it came to the people around me.

  They seemed to be having their own conversation. No’ll’s eyes were squeezed tight, in a deep mental concentration. I had overheard people talking about their encounters with the Astronauts, that their thoughts were broken with a reverberation so boisterous it caused a headache. They were wild, ravenous thoughts, hard to understand. They were thoughts of a beast.

  The Astronaut turned to leave, and to my horror No’ll stepped forward to follow. He shuffled past me and out the door. No. No! This isn’t happening. I charged after him, gripping his shoulder to jerk him around.

  “You’re just going to go with them? Just like that?”

  “Don’t look so hurt, dollface,” he whispered, pressing his hand to my cheek.

  Gripping the edge of his cotton sleeve, I tossed his hand away. “I’m not hurt. You don’t know where they’re taking you. They could kill you. And if they kill you, that means I can’t! So you have to stay so I can beat you properly.”

  I didn’t realize I was crying until No’ll pulled out his gray handkerchief and began wiping at my cheeks.

  “Dollface—”

  “Don’t call me that!”

  “Don’t use me as an excuse not to let people in.”

  “Stop talking like you’re actually going to go with them. They kidnapped your brother. What kind of danger are you stepping into?”

  “They didn’t kidnap him. He asked to go with them. I’m going to find him. Don’t worry, I still need to make my dollface smile at me without that edge of disgust. I haven’t given up on us. I will return to you.”

  “I’m not your dollface. What a horrible name to give a defect like me. It’s a slap in the face every time you say it. And there isn’t an us. Go! Fine, then. Leave, you psychopath. March off to your death. I don’t care.”

  Why did my heart hurt so much? Ugh, you silly, silly girl, I chastised myself. Can’t you see you started to hope just the tiniest amount?

  “Les’ette,” he whispered, stepping closer as he gripped my hands in both of his. “You’re not silly for liking me back.”

  He pulled a letter from his pocket and handed it to me.

  The psychopath planned this? My jaw clenched hard. I stared so fiercely at the letter that if it were possible, my fury would have set it ablaze.

  “I didn’t know if I could go through with it.” His words echoed my thoughts yet again. “But I wrote this just in case. The words were as true then as they are today. I know you’ll understand after you read this.”

  “No’ll,” I growled.

  He gave my hands a squeeze and then followed the Astronaut out of the train car. I crumpled up his stupid letter, because I didn’t want to understand his madness. I wound it back in the palm of my hand, but my body froze. My limbs shook. I dropped to the floor as a solitary sob pushed out. That was all I allowed myself. I smoothed out his letter and stored it away in the pocket of my skirt.

  As I hustled to regroup with the others, a shrill scream assaulted my ears. I had only heard that shriek once before, but I knew who it belonged to.

  Hattie!

  |Three|

  I RAN TO THE HEAD OF the train, toward the desperate sounds of Hattie. Pushing into the next train car, I was stunned to see Hattie restrained. She flopped helplessly on the ground, her hands tied at the wrists and ankles. An Astronaut was hauling her closer, dragging her across the flattened brown carpet. The Astronaut didn’t seem agitated. My defect was actually my protection at the moment.

  The white arches and iron accents overhead were the hallmark of the ritzy first-class décor of a dining cart, fully equipped with a bolted-down steel table, which I was able to slip underneath.

  I took a steady, preparatory breath. Rolling out, I sprinted toward the Astronaut. It noticed me a few seconds too late. I plowed into it. My shoulder sank into its stomach, and I was devoured by rough material as it flopped over. It tilted and then fell away from me, but its weight knocked me off balance. I plummeted to the floor. As its helmet bounced off the ground, a crack flared out across the visor.

  Scrambling to my feet, I gripped the line that was attached to Hattie. I raced over to her, scooping her up and tossing her over my shoulder. The Astronaut was frantically patching up the crack in his visor with some sort of metallic tape as I ran past it.

  “Don’t let them take me, Les’ette,” Hattie cried.

  “I won’t.”

  I flew into the next train car and knocked right into two Astronauts. Their heads turned to me, to Hattie, to each other, and then back to me. One had electric sparks flying from its hand as it came at me. I dropped to the ground right before I received a healthy shock in my back.

  My appendages went limp as Hattie tumbled from my grasp. The other Astronaut yanked her out of my reach within seconds.

  “No!” I screamed.

  The Astronaut gave me an icy hot zap as I started to crawl after Hattie. I landed on my stomach, wondering what had made No’ll go with them. Would he have changed his mind if he saw this? Would he even help me save Hattie?

  I pushed forward with flimsy limbs. My joints ached as I bent my knees, and my muscles burned as I propelled myself forward. My strides grew slower, but I kept pushing myself.

  “Aahh!”

  As ano
ther shock jolted through me, I realized that No’ll was as good as dead, and I hadn't tried hard enough to stop him. The heat rose in my veins,—anger at feeling so helpless, rage at having no control, fury from not saving No’ll from himself.

  As the hand came toward me again, I flipped around. I gripped the wrist, and with a grunt I jerked it toward the foot of the one holding Hattie. The Astronaut fell, and Hattie flopped out of its hold. The other Astronaut landed on top of me. I pushed it aside and rolled under the iron bench seats.

  An abandoned leather suitcase lay a short distance away. I scurried toward it, Hattie’s cries spurring me on. My hand curled around the case’s brass handle, and I slid out from my hiding spot. Jumping to my feet, I swung it at the Astronaut’s helmet, remembering the way the other had reacted when I accidentally cracked its visor. It would be distracted long enough for me to get us out of here.

  “Help me!”

  I didn’t know if it was hearing Hattie’s actual voice or the reverberation I was sure screeched through her mind, but whatever it was, it made the Astronaut turn its full attention to her. I didn’t hesitate. I swung as forcefully as I could. The copper-coated edge of the suitcase bounced off the mirrored visor, but it did no damage.

  The Astronaut came at me, sapphire sparks whipping around clawed fingers as they swiped at me. I stumbled backward onto the bench and threw the suitcase at the Astronaut’s face, but it deflected it, sending it hurtling straight at a window.

  As soon as the suitcase crashed through the glass, the wind kicked up every loose paper, every fractured piece of crystal. I sprang to my feet, hurling myself at the Astronaut. I tumbled with it, and just like the other, when its helmet bounced off the ground a fracture flared across the visor.

  I launched myself at the legs of the one carrying Hattie. It fell, and crack went its helmet. I quickly untied the cord around Hattie’s wrists and ankles, helping her to her feet. We escaped into the next car. I had to yank Hattie up by her arm every time she stumbled.

  When we entered a car filled with sleeping carriages, an Astronaut charged for us. I pushed Hattie out of the way and stood my ground, prepared to grip the iron exhaust ports on the Astronaut’s shoulder. But just when it was in reaching distance it snaked around me, racing in the opposite direction.

  I sprinted to the window. The train had reached the corkscrew right before the station, showing me the caboose and all the Astronauts jumping out of it. They were retreating back into the forest.

  The massive steel wall of Nickleby was a fortress reaching up into the sky. It was the protective barricade for all the layers of the metropolis, contained inside a massive cube of a stronghold. We were beyond the reach of the Astronauts...for now.

  |Four|

  “...AND THEY WILL BE REMEMBERED with fondness,” Door’is finished as the last whistle blew, signaling us to depart the train.

  She was getting better with her timing. Her speech was the same spiel she always spouted whenever we lost someone. No’ll was the third name she listed, and after that I just tuned her out. I kept my eyes narrowed at the gray handkerchief I clutched tightly in my hands. I was more or less strangling the cotton as if it were No’ll’s actual throat.

  “I’ll miss Ta’lor, Vik’toria, Den’ee’s...oh, and Jill’i’an,” Hattie said, sliding her hand over mine. “I’ll miss No’ll most of all. He read me stories.”

  I never knew he did that for Hattie. I guess my last argument with him was true; I didn’t know him. My grip tightened on the cloth. Anger swelled inside of me, and just before I thought it would consume me completely...

  “Form your ranks!” Door’is called out.

  My surroundings seemed to fall away from me, growing distant. As I let out a slow breath, my fingers loosened. I slipped my hands out of Hattie’s, dropping the handkerchief to be left behind with my emotions.

  I rose to my feet and found my place in line. Two rows formed, one for boys and one for girls. We were arranged by age, youngest to oldest. No’ll had always been next to me because we were so close in age, though I didn’t know by how much.

  “Keep it tight,” Door’is ordered, forcing two little girls to move closer together. It created a domino effect as we all shuffled closer.

  Door’is marched down the middle of the two lines, her Federation-issued heels clacking against the metal. Her inky hair was still in perfect curls, flowing from under her uniform fedora. She drummed her nails against the crook of her crossed arms.

  When she passed by me, she hesitated slightly. Her eyes lingered a little longer than normal on the boy next to me. It occurred to me then that No’ll wasn’t here to deliver one of his cajoling comments to Door’is.

  Steady as she goes, Captain.

  I’ve got my eye on them, Captain.

  No’ll always called her Captain, and she lapped it up. I’d always thought he did it to get on her good side, but as my fingers traced the outline of his letter, I really didn’t know what to think anymore.

  Door’is was a glamorous woman when her face was peaceful. As she marched up to me, I was reminded of that. She gripped a small section of my hair, twirling it away from my face. She secured the masterful curl with a pin, one of many she seemed to always be able to produce.

  “Move out,” Door’is bellowed.

  Her glamour fractured as only half her face moved, a paralysis she'd suffered sometime before I knew her. She hastened to the front of the line, still the essence of tough and regal in her gray pencil skirt and matching blazer, ivory tag pinned to her lapel.

  I glanced over at No’ll’s handkerchief, but then quickly turned my eyes away.

  It doesn’t matter anymore, I told myself.

  THE NICKLEBY STATION rumbled with people and billowed with exhaust. We collected our suitcases on our way out. It was only rarely that the Locomotive Rail Regulations of “locking up all unclaimed children’s possessions for the duration of their travels” came in handy. They believed the common stereotype about us orphan heathens, that we were kleptomaniacs. The idea was to give us fewer places to hide stolen loot. Little did they know; we’d only be enticed by food. I had been tempted a few times while walking through the dining car, like when a sweet aroma had wafted up, making saliva pool in my mouth. I almost threw myself on top of a chocolate cake in one massive bound. But punishments were swift and severe for theft: labor camps. No one wanted to wither their life away lumberjacking at the border of the toxic forest.

  The Rail Station workers watched us with narrowed eyes as we retreated farther into this grand terminal. Small shops lined the far end; people traipsed in and out of them like programmed automatons. Clusters of Watchmen passed by us in waves. Gas masks hung from their necks, more embellishment than necessity. Their buttons ran down their wool jackets in the fashion the Federation organized us, two neat corresponding lines. Their chrome finish sparkled against the black of the wool. The Watchmen's tags, because they were higher ranking, appeared more like badges than labels, although theirs were written in the same neat black ink and conveyed similar information as every other citizen’s: name, occupation, rank, and province issued.

  A few of the Watchmen nodded at Door’is politely, some even tipping their Federation-embossed caps. Door’is kept her head held high, always trying to live down the Federation Orphanage reputation. I guess, having once been an orphan herself, that reputation felt extremely personal to her. I was grateful I’d never felt that way, but I’d always had a different reputation to live down. I unrolled my white sleeves, trying to hide the scrapes I’d accumulated from the Astronaut attack.

  We all walked in unison, merging and reassembling our two lines when necessary. We marched down the stairs and into the hullabaloo of the heart of the Nickleby Station.

  “You hear about the excavation down in the state of Macbeth? Some place called Disney World?” A man laughed with his companion. They were both dressed in factory worker’s uniforms, blue overalls with a brown flat cap. One of them was tucking a tabloid into
his armpit. The title on the tech-paper had “Archeologists Discover Possible Human Architect?” streaming across it in a ticker tape style. It flashed the article right after.

  “Yes, because archeology is a reputable profession,” his companion remarked with a snort.

  The word archeologist was almost a derogatory term. They were citizens chasing fancies. My eyes skimmed across a poster by Emerald Pride. It was similar to the dozens I’d seen displayed all over, probably in response to the article the men were speaking of. It depicted a person, but he wore no scales. Then it flashed its public safety announcement.

  85% of Idiosyncratics who become Archeologists die from toxic gases searching for human myths. Informants for the masses—Emerald Pride.

  The group posted literature like this everywhere. It was always in the background of every city I traveled to.

  “Poise! Come here, boy,” a little girl squealed as her pet goldfish swam through the air toward her. “Silly boy,” she giggled as it buried inside her dark curls.

  When her parents spotted us, they quickly pulled her away as if our perceived hooliganism was contagious. They jerked on the poor fish’s leash when it didn’t follow.

  “Berets!” Door’is instructed, halting us by the door.

  I quickly dug my matching gray hat out of my suitcase, adjusting it so it tipped to the left side to display the Federation emblem on the right. I noticed that, somehow, Hattie was wearing her fedora.

  “Forward march!” Door’is bellowed, leading us out of the station into the center of the city.

  |Five|

  NICKLEBY WAS THE CAPITAL city of the Neo-North American Federation. It rested in the state of Othello, the exact center of all 28 states in NNAF. Since all of Earth existed under the same government, most everybody just referred to it as a whole—The Federation.