The Hanging Tree

Chapter 6: Harvester

As I stormed away I felt hot tears streaming down my cheeks. I was careful not to let Gizmo see me like this, as it would contradict the brave facade I just put on. The truth is that I'm scared to death... But I know I have to fight. I can't just let things go on the way they are.

I thought I heard something rustle a bush nearby and stopped, but seeing nothing decided it was probably just a lone squirrel. I was so consumed in thoughts of our fall-out that I hadn't noticed the tall, well-built Peace Keeper until I had bumped into him. At first I was scared senseless, too afraid to even beg for my life, then I embraced the fact a bullet would surely soon pierce my skull. I hunched my shoulders over and closed my eyes. After a few moments of standing like this I began to feel ridiculous, despite the situation. I opened my eyes just enough that I could make out the Peace Keeper's face through my thick lashes. He face was stony, but almost frightened as he looked down at me, gun in hand. Perhaps he hadn't ever expected to catch someone out, or maybe he just didn't have it in him to shoot me.

"You'd better hurry along before one of the others see you," He said just loud enough for me to hear, "and try to not make so much noise, you wouldn't want to get caught out after curfew would you?" he added more firmly. I didn't need telling twice. I ran as fast and far as my legs would carry me. My mind, which had been clouded with thoughts of Gizmo and our fight, was now buzzing with curiosity as to why that Peace Keeper had just let me go, when I knew they were all too eager to inflict justice lately.

I did as he told me though, becoming more diligent in my movements even in my haste. When I was nearly home I looked over my shoulder to make sure that no more Peace Keepers around. In the dim lights of the far off city square I saw a Peace Keeper turn towards my street and hurried my pace, keeping to the darkness, to get inside before he was close enough to detect any movement. I was just crossing over the threshold when he started down my road. Perhaps it was all the time he's spent in the dark that has made him lose his edge. How I could see him before he saw me. I was grateful for it whatever it was.

I crept through the living room and down the hallway. First I passed my little sister Sorter's room. I thought of her and the questions she had begun asking. She is young, only 5, but very observant. She had noticed my father talking about all the rebellion that is taking place. I have been afraid that she would be out in public, hear something, and ask questions before my mother could stop her. I don't want anything to happen to her. Then I pass my little brother Enforcer's room. I pause outside his door and listen for the sound of his ragged breathing. He's so little, at just 3 years old, and so sick. The doctors don't expect him to make it much longer but I know he's a very strong little boy. I ease my way past his room as he gives a small grunt in his sleep. When I finally come to my room I slip inside and lean against the wall, sighing with relief. It doesn't seem to bother Gizmo very much, being out after curfew, but it sets me on edge and I don't truly breathe until I'm safely at home in bed. I sleepily change into pajamas and fall against my pillows, sleep engulfing me almost instantly.

I jolt awake just before the sun had risen, having just had a nightmare that I'd been caught out by a Peace Keeper after curfew. As I sit up in bed, I remember that it wasn't just a dream. It had happened in real life as well. I rest against the softness of my pillows and try to recall the Peace Keeper of the previous night. Surely he knew me, or possibly one of my family members. Peace Keepers were not known for their mercy and are always quick to dispense justice. I couldn't make sense of why he let me go. He was completely unfamiliar.

Then the memories of my conversation with Gizmo washed back into my mind and I began crying again. How could he possibly ask me to leave my family? How could he want to leave his own? Above all, he should've known that I would stay and fight for them, I couldn't just leave them. I knew that he would leave. Run away before the fighting got serious. He always tried to avoid a conflict if he could. Perhaps I believed he loved his family more than he really did... or loved me. I had thought that he felt for me as I did him. But apparently he didn't know me at all. By asking me to run away with him he had shown me that. After about half an hour of this, going around in circles trying to figure out who I thought Gizmo was, my mother came into my room. I sat up a little and just looked at her. We don't communicate very well these days. She goes into these odd trace-like states where she won't move or eat for hours, sometimes days. My dad has a full-time job so I don't know see him much either. Needless to say my relationship with my parents is a little complicated. After a moment of my mother staring at my face I say, "I'll be out soon, I just need a minute." It sounds like I have a bad cold. Whether it was because of this, or maybe it's one of those things that moms just know, like, when you're getting sick, or feeling sad but you say you aren't, or how she knows when you're really awake when you pretend to be asleep, she says, "I think you should stay home today. A day off from the Factory will do you some good." Had she simply sensed how terrible I was feeling over Gizmo or was it written plainly on my face?