THE OUTLIERS FOLLOWED JAMES THROUGH THE TREES ALONG the back pathway to the settlement. At the other end of the expansive freeze they saw a glowing light that lifted and fell, the way the Northern Lights used to shift when they filled the sky and cut out the stars. No one asked what the light might be but James knew some of them wanted to get close to the fire and stick their hands in it, let the heat sink into their skin after stuck so long in the endless cold. Instead he and Charlotte pushed forward through the woods, distancing themselves from the slithering orb of color, and arriving on the fringe of the homes they had all helped to build. Everyone ducked down so as not to be caught lurking in the trees. The homes and buildings were as silent and dark as the forest before the smattering of light broke through. A few of the smaller kids whimpered with misunderstanding, not knowing why they had stopped, cold and fragile as they had ever been, as all of them were, but the older kids at least knew what they ran from and what they ran for.
Charlotte tried to shush the smattering of whimpers and whispers; the sounds didn’t grow louder but they didn’t stop, either.
“We need as many hands as we can get,” Charlotte said in a whisper, which passed back to the farthest reaches of the line like a glass of hot water. People raised their hands to volunteer.
They had brought everyone from the ship, including Franklin, who was shoved deep inside the sack Charlotte held. Not everyone could help; not everyone had the hands or the stealth to burst through the settlement unseen and gain access to the granary, the greenhouse, slip what they needed into their bags, and sprawl out at the edges of the village to not be discovered. James said they needed to bring everyone anyway, for they all knew they needed to leave the ship behind fast. Charlotte had the idea to raid the settlement. Beyond the raid and the move, they weren’t sure what would become of them. We survived in the open with Robert and we can do it again, James thought. At least until we find something better.
Charlotte picked eight hands out of the crowd, a combination of speed and strength, to grab as much as they could as fast as they could. James stood up to go.
“You stay,” Charlotte said.
“I want to help,” he said.
“You’ve done so much already. You’re not recovered yet and we need someone here to help keep everyone together and ready to go.”
“I can go with you. I’m good for it.” The hardest part about a sickness is admitting to yourself that you lost a bit of who you were before, James thought. He couldn’t concede that he lost a step and some strength. If he admitted that he would be admitting he wasn’t the same person; somehow it changed him in ways he couldn’t imagine if he allowed himself to agree.
Charlotte grabbed his hand. His fingers were frail and thin. A cough swirled around in his lungs before he had to spit it out. Sometimes the world makes you believe something before you’re ready to, James thought. He knew Charlotte was right, he needed to stay.
“Be safe,” James said.
“As if I need you to tell me that,” Charlotte said with a sly smile. Her hair dangled around her chest. The white strands wrapped up and around her body before twisting in the brown and disappearing beneath her beanie. “We’ll be back soon. Keep everyone quiet and awake.” She took the eight volunteers she had chosen. “We all know the points. Run, get in, take whatever you can carry.” They all nodded. Charlotte stood from her crouch and headed straight for the greenhouse with a sack flailing by her side.
When the wind blew and the dogs howled, jolts and gasps rose from the kids behind James. He tried to follow the fast-moving silhouettes that flew through the settlement. When they left, they had all seemed guarded but now many of them seemed less cautious, no longer hiding behind walls or peering around corners. They walked openly through the square, at least from what James could see of them, taking slow, wide strides like conquerors in their new kingdom. Phil and Cheryl carried their large bags next to the committee building. Cheryl spit on the door. James couldn’t tell if their bags were filled. Phil unbuttoned his pants and dipped as he pulled out his penis before he started to piss all over the door. Steam rose from where the hot stream hit the cold snow.
“Where is everyone?” James asked himself. As he said the words he heard Daron behind him.
“No one’s there.” She didn’t say the words to him; they drifted behind him and covered the group, young and younger. She stood up and ran out to the square, followed by more. “No one’s here!” she yelled, her arms spread out, head titled up in a premature victory celebration.
“Wait,” James said in a whisper. He tried to wave them all back and keep new people from joining the crowd. They wanted to dance in the open square like the victors they weren’t but they didn’t hear him, didn’t see him, or just ignored him.
“Charlotte’s going to be pissed,” Sarah said. She kneeled next to James.
“Where is everyone?” James asked.
“If they aren’t here I don’t know what to tell you.”
“It looks like no one is here, including—”
“I know,” Sarah said. “I don’t know where he could be.”
“We need to round them up,” James said. “Wherever everyone is, I doubt they’ll be gone—unless . . . ”
They stood up and entered the crowd of kids that hung around the open square, tapping on windows and pushing open doors. Some kids entered the dining hall and laid down on the tables, Daron included.
“We need to go,” James said. “We can’t stay here.”
“It’s so warm,” Daron said. “I forgot how warm it could be.” She didn’t take off her coat. None of them took off their clothes and basked in the heat that sprung from the floors. It felt like an old, comfortable blanket. James didn’t want to leave it either. Why couldn’t they just step into the settlement and take over? They wouldn’t have to reshape a new community for themselves built out of igloos and ice fishing or some damn crazed institution like that. They could all wash over the settlement like a river and take it, pushing out what was. You can’t move a river.
“What the hell are you doing?” Charlotte asked. Her bag looked fat and heavy. She stood behind James in the cold air outside of the dining hall. James wanted to let the door fall away like a sheet. Instead Charlotte took over the door, blocking the trees in the distance, a reminder of what they were there for and the fact they needed to leave.
“You were supposed to keep everyone in the trees.”
“I know,” he said. “It just happ—we need to get them out of here.”
“Is this because I wouldn’t let you come with?” Charlotte asked.
“No,” James said. “It just happened. I tried to keep—”
“It doesn’t matter. Sarah said she saw that fire far in the jungle, but it’s coming closer. We need to go. Fast and quiet, okay?”
James nodded and rounded up Daron and the others lingering in the dining hall. He collected Phil and Cheryl along the way as Sarah and Charlotte grabbed the others.
“Mind your zipper,” Daron told Phil.
“Don’t mind at all,” Phil said.
Some of those not chosen for reconnaissance had taken silverware that now poked out of their pockets, pots they wore on their heads; a few pretended to fight with spears and bows they took from the armory.
“Where’d you get those?” James asked Lewis. Lewis had been one of the youngest kids in Fornland before they ventured away from San Diego. His parents gave up on him after they gave up on each other, neither one wanting to raise a kid who reminded them too much of the other. James had read that in Lewis’s file. It was amazing how brutally honest people were when they thought no one would see.
“We found them,” Lewis said. “Not much left.”
“Show me,” James said.
“Shouldn’t we leave them something?” Sarah said. “They need to live too.”
“We’re just taking what we can,” Charlotte said. “We’re not trying to leave them dry.”
Lewis pointed and James found the armory almost depleted of the weapons he knew had been there.
“Shit,” he said. “We really need to go.” The fire burned between the trees like a San Diegan inferno bringing a dreaded firestorm closer to them. James ran to tell Charlotte about the armory. “I know where everyone went. That fire is them and they’re coming right for us.”
“Get moving!” Charlotte said, no longer trying to keep her voice to a whisper. Everyone needed to get together and get out. “If you’re not collected in the next ten seconds, you’re left behind. We’ll have to let Abe deal with you.” A crashing quiet fell over them all, the harsh realization of the moments to come and what they had done by not staying in safety’s reach.
“Where can we go?” Daron asked. “What can we do?”
“We shouldn’t have all come out,” Sarah said.
“That’s not going to help,” James said.
“He’s right,” Charlotte said. “We need to get going now, back to the trees where we came from. Once the fire is gone we can make our way deeper into the jungle.”
“They’ll find us,” Phil said.
“Not if you follow us,” Charlotte said.
“And stop pissing everywhere,” Cheryl said. “They’ll just follow the stench.”
Charlotte grabbed James’s hand and they made their way to the trees together. The rest of the outliers followed. James swore he could hear the collected heartbeat of everyone pulsing like a drum circle, adding a well-needed rhythm to the night as they tried to demand their freedom from the lives they never wanted, to create more for themselves. The imagined heartbeats gave way to a hopeful scream—the imagined furious cry of Abe when he found out what James had done. They reached the trees and hid in the dark depths of the snowy bark. James smiled. They could survive tonight; they could die tonight, but no matter what, at least they could hold their heads up and know they had lived, even for a breath, without fear, even as they hid within the jungle.