Steel Flight [Completed]

Chapter 39: Dolls

~Skai

Something was wrong. I had never been to the Farmlands, had never even seen it before, and yet, it didn't take Colton opening his mouth in confusion or Jack stiffening and starting to sink for me to know something was off. Even I could tell that the still hush was an unusual one.

It was midmorning now, and light had finished seeping into the world, so I could clearly make out the sharp lines that were houses. I did see their similarity to the houses of the Eastern Mountains. They were simple, made of the same basic material- it must have been real wood, not a Juxtaposition fabrication. Unlike the homes we had left not too long before, though, these weren't decorated at all; they seemed to be fading, just waiting for the weeds to overtake them. Who would want to live here?

The smells hit me next- too many and too strong. How could anyone discern even one among this overwhelming cacophony?

Jack's metal feet hit the ground, jarring me from my thoughts.

The wind was the only sound that could be heard. That and the occasional peep of what I assumed were faroff animals based on the little Jack had told me about growing up on a farm.

I slid off Jack's back, heart in my throat, nerves pulled taut. I told myself sternly to settle my breathing, but my lungs obstinately refused.

"Knox?" Jack yelled. "Braden? Alvin? Miss Talran?"

His only answer was further silence. I stepped forward, intending to put my hand on his shoulder, but stopped when I stepped on something. I stepped back and stared down at what appeared to be a pile of rags. When I turned it over with my boot, though, my whole body went numb.

What lay on the ground, ripped, worn, and covered in dirt, was a soft doll. I held my breath as I crouched down to pick her up. Her long blonde hair was snarled and falling out; her cheeks, obviously once a deep pink, were now smudged in dirt; and her eyes still sparkled, though one of the lids had been torn off, giving the dilapidated doll a creepy expression. It wrenched my heart to see a once cherished toy forgotten, left here to rot.

A once-buried memory slowly drifted to the surface of my mind.

"Mother, Mother, can I have that? Can I have that, oh please!" I had been hanging off her arm, staring into the Trader's wagon.

"I'm sorry, honey, but we only get supplies from the traders. We use what we get to make other things. That's already been made."

It had been made, and with obvious love too. The smile was composed of small, precise stitches, and the hair had been a bright red. Despite the obvious difference in hair color, it had closely resembled the blonde I numbly held in my hands.

"But-"

"No buts. I'm sorry, Skai. That's just the way it has to be."

I opened my mouth to put in one last plea (I'd never seen anything like it), but Mother winked at me. Huh?

The next day I found it at the foot of my bunk. I had been holding Imle as I watched Mother's eyes dull and chest stop moving.

"That was Gettle's," Jack said, voice hollow and eyes haunted. "Miss Henter made it for her."

Miss Henter. I would remember that name always.

I stood wordlessly, still holding the doll. Suddenly I wanted nothing better than to clutch it to my chest.

Colton let out a cry. He'd wandered a good ways away, but he held up what he'd found for us: a blanket.

I turned in a circle, eyes probing the ground, and sure enough, I found more of people's scattered belongings: some tools, but mostly pillows, blankets, toys and various knickknacks. What had happened here?

"Knox! Timmy! Braden! Edward? Gettle? Hiss Henter? Ga-"

I put my hand on Jack's shoulder to stop him from continuing to yell for those who obviously would not be answering. He did close his mouth, but that didn't mean he was ready to give up.

Colton and I followed along behind him as he tore through building after building, still occasionally calling for his friends and neighbors. Half the tables were still set, some with food laid out. Finally, I stopped him.

"Maybe we can figure something out at Juxtaposition." It was three houses later when he finally agreed.

There was no discussion about dropping Colton off there when we took off again on Jack, this time silently. None of us could forget what we'd seen.

Well, mostly silently. "What do you think happened?" Colton asked. Jack just shook his head.

Soon enough, though, Jack was drifting back toward the ground again.

"Jack!" I said sharply. "You're falling!"

"What? Oh, right, sorry." And he struggled to pull us all higher. The metal was taking its toll.

"Oh, set us down," I said.

Jack looked at me questioningly.

"It's obvious you can't handle flying all of us for so long. Now set us down, blockhead."

Jack did so, without even a reply. That was not a good sign.

So we continued, me and Colton now walking, Tom riding in Colton's pocket, and Jack hovering low over the ground. He wanted to at least carry his duffel (which by now was in tatters), but I won that argument too. And I had now added my own addition to its contents- the doll.

So it was that we stumbled into the Edge some time later, bleary-eyed and travel weary and unprepared for what awaited us.

Colton was the first to notice all that had changed. His sharp intake of breath brought my head up, inspiring my sharp intake of breath.

Pitchforks. I knew their shape and their name because they were one of the products we manufactured solely to sell to Traders. Pitchforks, shovels, most door knobs and hinges. . . Most everything else, besides a few other tools, like plows, stayed in Juxtaposition. Now, pitchforks glinted in the light, held aloft by toughened hands. Thankfully, they weren't directed toward us. No, none of the patched-up-overall clad men or women seemed to notice us. Their eyes were for a steel wall that now rose from the Edge's border.

We had found the Farmers.

And they had found my city.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Comment below: what did you like? Dislike? I'd love to hear from you!