The Wall

Chapter 2

I had few things to pack. A book. A writing pad. My favorite pens. I didn't have any clothes other than the grey uniform of St. Mariah's Home for Children. I was told that clothes would be provided for me. Joy. There was no time for goodbyes to the few friends I had made. I met General S. Miles by the entry hall, my small suitcase trailing behind me. What he was a general for I didn't know. How could anyone perform a courageous act when the only thing we seemed to be able to do was squat behind our fortress and piss on ourselves? General S. Miles demanded obedience from his neatly parted grey hair to his shined black shoes. The many medals and pins adorning his navy blue army suit clinked against each other softly as he moved. He swept dark eyes as cold as obsidian over my tall but skinny form. I had pulled my long choppy hair into a ponytail, but uneven locks fell into my sharp face and tickled the bridge of my nose. I swept one of those locks away now, attempting to tuck it behind my ear but it just stubbornly fell forwards again. He cleared his throat sharply; a deep and growling noise but quiet at the same time.
"You know who I am and vice versa, we mustn't waste time. Come, Dylan." said General S. Miles, nodding as crisply as his suit, and turned on his heel, walking to the tall grey double doors. His shiny shoes squeaked and left dark scuff marks on the shining floor. I felt sorry for the next person who had to scrub that up with their toothbrush. He placed a wrinkly and veined hand on the handle and pushed it forward. It was heavier than he expected though, and he ended up having to place both hands on the thick door and push, grunting. It swung open slowly and I stepped forward quickly onto the street, wary of the heavy door catching me if I was too slow. General S. Miles took a moment to straighten his ironed suit before descending the weathered steps. I turned to stare up at the grey building a last time. Withered ivy crawled up the faded bricks, each reaching desperately for a spot closer to the sun. What am I fighting for? I asked myself. A small voice in the back of my head answered sneeringly, Yourself. There's no one else. I blinked, and-
"Dylan!" barked General S. Miles from the street, where he waited before a gleaming black sedan. I descended the steps slowly, walking closer to my end with each step. My small suitcase thunked down the stone steps behind me, occasionally knocking against my ankles. I stopped in front of the sedan. General S. Miles extended his hand and opened the door for me. The door swung open smoothly. Inside was dark, like the belly of a beast. I climbed inside, and rested my suitcase next to me. The black leather seats were soft, and I ran my hand over it. The windows were dark and tinted, making the dull outside appear even darker. The car started, a soft gentle purr of the engine jolting me from my dazed reverie. St. Mariah's Home for Children was far enough from the Wall that I couldn't see it behind the rising and twisting buildings that made up the poorer section of the city. I watched grey buildings rush past, becoming smaller and smaller. Gradually crumbling walls made way to squatting brick houses, before rising in massive skyscrapers decorated with reflective glass. We were in the center of the city, Central, some called it. Before I expected it, we stopped in front of a relatively small and worn down building, with a few pitiful looking flowers trying to grow in the dry soil of the front lawn.
"Where-?" I began, but General S. Miles had opened the door from where he sat in the passenger seat and was already swiftly crossing the sparse front yard and wrapping on the dull and chipped door. After a few moments, the door swung open slowly, and a girl who looked to be my age, which would be seventeen or older stepped out. She had golden blonde hair that shined in the afternoon sun, and was tall enough, slender. She certainly was striking, and would have attracted looks from boys and men alike had it not been for her expression. She was wearing a firm scowl on her face, and her crossed arms and disgusted look made it clear she disliked the General and everything he stood for. It was too far away to hear anything of their exchange, but the girls shoulders sagged, and she turned back to the house. Two younger kids who looked similar to her, they all had blonde hair anyways, stepped out. The younger one threw her little arms around her big sisters legs and wailed. After a moment the girl knelt down to where her face was level and spoke a few soft words. The young girl nodded, and she turned to the boy, who stood stock still. She hugged him tightly, and ruffled his hair so that it stood on end. General S. Miles said something, and she stepped away. She had a large back pack swung over the shoulder of a worn leather jacket, her golden hair braided down her back. The General turned and the girl followed him after a pause. In a moment they reached the car on the street, and General S. Miles seated himself in the front. The girl paused outside, one hand on the door handle. The young girl waved. The boy looked sad. I could see her take a deep breath before pulling open the car door and sliding in. she swung the pack off her shoulder and placed it on the floor between her feet, which wore old sneakers. She didn't even glance at me.
"Uh, hi," I said as the car pulled away. She was staring out the window as the ramshackle house grew smaller in the distance. I coughed lightly. She didn't even turn. "Right, ok," I muttered. Once the house couldn't be seen even as a speck in the distance, she lost her rigid stature and slumped in the leather seat. She wrapped the leather jacket around herself, though it was quite warm. "I'm Dylan," I said uncertainly after a while. She remained staring down at her hands, then spoke, rather sarcastically.
"Good for you. By the way the old folks home was looking for their clothes back," she said stingingly. I bit my lip, trying not to be hurt. She had obviously just said good-bye to a small family, but there was that part of me oblivious to others emotional needs that needed to speak up sometimes. "Well you don't need to be rude!" I retorted. Okay it wasn't much of a comeback but I wasn't very good at this sort of thing. If it was a battle of the quickest tongue, I was already in too deep. She could probably tell too, she straightened in the seat and turned to glare at me. Her eyes were a stormy green, flecked with a ring of yellow around the irises.
"I don't give a rat's ass if you think I'm rude. Chances are we'll die before we're thirty, and I want to be remembered by what I really am. Not some government lap dog or even a guard dog. I'm a rude bitch and I know it." She finished her small speech with a glint of contempt in her eyes, and I stared at her for a moment, surprised. She had gone from disconnected and apart to intense and spiteful in a manner of cussing and provocative words.
"Quiet down!" barked the General. She snorted and placed her dirty sneakers on the back of his leather seat. I continued to stare. She was quite odd. I had never met someone quite like her before. After a moment she turned to glare at me again, her sharp eyes like deadly emeralds. She was about to say some scathing comment when the car jolted to a stop suddenly.
We were thrown forward; the seat belt caught me painfully. The girl swore loudly. "What happened?!" I gasped. I craned my neck to see around the bulky driver and gasped. A mob of people were swarming in the center of the street, shouting angrily and waving their fists. In front of them a portly man, red-faced and sweaty, was standing on a crate. He was shouting words and those closest to him were repeating him. As he turned to see another section of the crowd, I could see a beaded cross lying under his chins. General S. Miles swore and told the driver to take a different street. The girl, having gotten over the sudden stop, was watching the retreating crowd with amusement.
"Damn religious people," she said, laughing to herself. "What was that about?" I asked, rubbing the red line where the seat belt had grabbed me. "It's been happening for a while," she said, still staring out the window. "Those people believe that the Canis were sent by god to deal out justice and those who surrender to God's path shall be bathed in righteousness or some shit," she continued. I had shivered slightly in the warm air as she said the name.
"Look, sorry," she said, glancing at me. "I'm just..." she sighed. "I dunno. Anyway, I'm Kilroy." I smiled slightly. "So...you're going to the wall too?" as soon as the question left my lips I felt stupid. "Yeah," she said, sighing. "I had to leave Macy...and Wright..." her voice was soft and shaky. I stared at her blankly. "Why would you leave?" She turned to face me, fury once again lit in her eyes, but was cut off by the car slowing to a stop. I leaned over to stare out of Kilroy's window. The immense wall loomed above us, casting the place we were in shadow. "Well," I said. General S. Miles exited the front seat and beckoned for us outside. "Shit," Kilroy mumbled as she swung her door open.