Risking it Alll

ONLY A TOUCH

ONLY A TOUCH

Her … 5833

My ears hum with the intensity of the silence that stretches around us. Air burns in the cage of my ribs as my body rocks with the overwhelming feeling of where his skin touched mine. My breath wizzes between my parted lips as my eyes lock onto my wrist, where the sensation still lingers. His touch felt warm, causing heat to run up my forearm in waves. I gasp.

My mind swims as I recall the only other touch I have experienced in the eighteen years of my life, the iced latex-covered gloves and stainless steel equipment causing the heated wave to dissipate.

I shutter. My eyes lock onto his inky stare. I attempt to read his face as I read the words of my beloved book that weights heavy and wrapped in a tattered white sheet to my midsection.

The heaviness of the book, restricts the rising of my chest as I take in the gravity of the punishment if I were to be caught with it. s**t … s**t … who is he? If he is testing me and is one of the CCU’s Post guards… Is he seeing how I would react to this situation? Is this another experiment … I think as the countless different experiments rise to my mind.

I have heard whispers from the other units about the Post running different types of test to find prohibited contraband that has been in the CCU’s. But, that doesn’t explain why he touched my skin. I know that was the number one rule amongst the Post. They do not touch us. If they did have to intervene, as if someone tried to escape from their pods, the Post are to use a cattle prod to manage us, a fork-like device attached to a long wand with the tips of the fork full of white electrical currents.

I breathe in a shallow breath recalling the snapping sound of the prod as it made a connection to my ribs as I attempted to run several years ago. I run my fingers in a circle where the evidence of the said-event, marks my skin.

“Did I hurt you?” He questions, his voice barely audible.

Flexing my wrist, I manage to shake my head in response.

“Good, the tracers have timers. If I didn’t have it disarmed within the third signal. It would have sent your location back to the command center…” he hesitates before continuing. “Within the pods there is a sensor system that activates a notification once you arrive back in your confinement … “ he mutters, pausing as he scans my face.

I feel his stare as a touch on my skin sending my senses on overload. I rock in slow motion in attempt to calm my wired nerves.

He brings his large hand and clamps it to the back of his neck before shifting to retrieve the items off the dirt-covered ground. “I’m sure you don’t want to hear anything about that place …” he states. “Here, take the meal pack,” he says with his outstretch arm—handing it to me. His tone low and soft, sounding smooth as honey to my ears. He doesn’t sound like the Post that caught me the day I tried to run, my eyes diverting to his.

The right corner of his mouth curves upward as he remains stable, waiting for me to take it. My chest squeezes momentarily before the torch light snaps, causing me to shift back on my perch.

He releases a heavy sigh before lowering it to the ground. “Look, if you want to make it over the Indigo Mountains, we have to get your strength built up,” he says and reaches into his bag and pulls out another foil sealed package with black markings that I am unable to read in the low light.

He rips open the three-by-three pouch and pours an ashy dust onto the flame. The torch flares to life once more, before calming to a constant and steady light.

Turning his attention to me, he continues, “We need to make it to Ork. There, I will purchase a horse and some more supplies. This will make traveling faster and easier for you once we move into the mountains. But, you won’t even make it to Ork if you don’t eat something … ”

“Horse,” I whisper.