The Guardian Wars: Part One #Wattys2016

Chapter Twenty-Four

 We woke up at dawn after a very long, very restless night in the woods. We had both ended up wearing several layers of clothes to keep the cool of the night air out, but it did very little to keep us warm. Mabel passed out the last of our fresh food, which was two apples and a banana to share. I inspected my dirty nails as I ate. I was beginning to feel the effects of not bathing for almost two days and sleeping outdoors on the ground. My shirt was sticking to me from the morning dew that had settled on us as we slept.

After we ate and changed into cleaner clothes, I checked then rewrapped Mabel's ankle. We left our little camping spot and sped off on a prayer that we would make it before the motorcycle ran out of gas. The border was only about an hour from our camping spot, so we hopeful that we could get there and sneak in before the shadows of the morning light were completely gone. Now that we were officially missing people, simply walking through border patrol would never work.

"Things are very different in Sector 6," Mabel yelled over my shoulder.

"What do you mean?" I asked

"You'll see. I just want you to be prepared for the reality of life outside the wealthy sectors," she explained.

I mulled over her words for a while. I had never seen poverty first hand. From what we learned in school, I understood that a lot of things we took for granted were luxuries in the lower sectors, such as 6. Every day necessities, like electricity and running water, were not available to every home. Mabel was right. I needed to mentally prepare myself for what I would see when we crossed over. Because of the way our country had been divided, the wealthy sectors were all placed together, and the poorer sectors were grouped together. There was no other way to reach Sector X than making the huge cultural shift over to that side of the country.

The motorcycle started puttering about two miles from the border. By the time it was completely out of gas, we had about a mile and half to cover before we reached Sector 6. We got off the bike and pushed it deep into the trees off the side of the road. Mabel said a sad farewell as we collected our things from under the seat. As I picked my duffel bag up, I noticed the gun from our assailant in Sector 2 sitting innocently at the bottom of the storage compartment. I wrapped it in a shirt and shoved it in my bag. Neither of us had ever used a gun, but I knew that just having it could come in handy. We made our way slowly, partially hidden in the tree line, as we closed the gap between us and the border. Mabel's ankle was still weak, but she was able to walk without assistance. It took us about 30 minutes by foot, but when we finally reached a distance close enough to see the patrol building that guarded the entrance to the Sector, it was obvious that sneaking in would be easy. Two guards sat side by side in the patrol building, facing the road. They seemed half asleep, which gave us hope that they were just ending a long night shift. As we got closer we became more conscious of the sounds that our feet made as we trod along the uneven ground. Every snapping twig sounded as loud as a siren.

We finally reached a chain link fence, hidden within the trees. It ran all the way down to the guard building, where the two men were still unmoving. We could tell from our location that they had a TV on. Every now and then, one of them would smile, but their heads never moved. I hoisted Mabel up first, and watched as she climbed the fence. She dropped down delicately on the other side, and motioned for me to begin my ascent. I followed her direction, and jumped down beside her. We were in! Mabel took my hand and with a big smile, began leading me through the tree line away from the guards. She made her way as if she had done it a hundred times. Never once did she pull out her map, or stop to check her direction. We walked for what must have been at least two or three miles before we broke out of the trees, and were standing on a dirt road. All around us were small wooden houses. Most of them were accompanied by small farms or gardens that were hearty with fruits and vegetables. My mouth watered as I reminisced about the taste of a warm cooked meal.