Feral Heart Edit - Duron Crejaro (best novels of all time TXT) 📗

classes with Dhamon, and would get to schmooze with him much more during the day. I retrieved my books from the repository, and made my way to my assigned locker. I gave a timid smile to a young Asian girl standing nearby as I crammed my locker with the books I didn’t have need of. Having secured my things, I began my day.

 

Cami, and I passed notes during our first class. We paid little attention to the teacher as she rattled on with her own mini orientation, which was no more interesting than the one we had already received. I participated as Cami pointed out which of the boys she thought were cute. I felt as if she did this to try to sublimate her desire to have Dhamon. She acted all into it, but I could tell her heart wasn't in it.

 

So, my day progressed thus, intermittent trips to my locker, followed by each teacher’s rendition of their particular curriculum. Everyone had the same seven classes I soon learned: Math, Science, Biology, Physical Education, Medical, Technology, and Construction.

 

Then came time for lunch, and I must say it left an impression. The vast scope of the machinations that fed everyone amazed me. Endless lines of students carried trays, and moved in slow procession through the galley of buffet food offered for our enjoyment. Maybe enjoy was a strong word, as the food was healthy if a bit on the bland side. I filled my tray with what looked like it might be the most appetizing, and spent the next five minutes trying to locate my friends. Together we made our way to a vacant table, and sat down. Of course Cami immediately began ranting on, and on about her classes, and surprise surprise the boys in them. I on the other hand was sullen, and poked at my food absentminded. Dhamon conversed with Cami a bit before breaking through my fog.

 

“Have you noticed how many enforcers there are here?” He asked lowering his tone to almost a whisper.

 

I actually hadn’t I thought to myself as I peered around the cafeteria. Enforcers were a daily part of our lives. They were anywhere, and everywhere at all times it seemed. I never noticed them anymore. They were here to protect us from the Wylder, and as I’ve never seen one, I’ve never had much cause to notice the enforcers either.

 

“You’re right Dhamon. There are a lot of them.” It’s true I mused, in fact, more than I had ever seen gathered in one place. “Maybe they are more worried about an attack on this place than elsewhere?” I volunteered for his benefit. Since I had never seen a Wylder, sometimes I just assumed that it was a scary fairy tale made up by those in charge to keep us complacent, and inside the boundaries of society.

 

“Maybe.” He returned sounding a little down as if he expected me to have some genius idea on why they were here.

 

“Does anyone know what this place used to be?” Cami chirped, breaking through the dour atmosphere with her exuberance.

 

“I heard it used to be a prison before the collapse.” Dhamon said.

 

I rolled my eyes, of course he would think something dark like that. I swear sometimes I thought he was morbid on purpose. “Then why would the grounds be so open? Where are the bars? The cells?” I asked. “No, one of the older citizens told me once that it was a grand mall, a place of commerce for the buying and selling of more things than you could ever imagine. All wrapped up in one place.” I added.

 

All our speculations were ended by the harshness of a loud bell, signaling the end of lunch. We disposed of our trays quietly before moving along to our next classes. Physical Education was next, and it consisted of, much to my chagrin, an unending amount of exercise. The bright side of this class, Dhamon, and I were in it together. So at least I had someone to endure it with. Once I had forced my way through that class, the rest of the day passed in a dazed blur before I found myself once again on the bus towards home.

Chapter 2: The Old World

With school out for the day, I found myself with an afternoon free to pursue the one thing that interested me more than anything else. It is what kids called ghosting, exploration of the ruins of the old world. I donned an old set of the same dull gray colored pants and shirt that I was accustomed to, grabbed a bottle of water, and headed out. I seized my bike from the side of the house and rode a few miles north of my home in Mads. Here I came to the edge of the proper part of our society, a chain link fence twelve feet high, and covered in constantine wire. A temporary border, every year Nashboro moved it further out, as they reclaimed more of the world that had been devastated in the burning. Further out in the ruins of civilization sat the permanent concrete barrier. It separated us from the wilds, and the creatures that were said to roam there. I slowed my pace, and glanced around. Of course, no one was around, open patrols were uncommon here, but it never hurt to check. I dumped my bike in a small grove of trees near the side of the street, and walked to a worn down section of the fence. I pried up a loose part, and slid underneath.

 

As I passed the barrier, the differences struck me. The ruined remains of society so near to us but lost. I returned to this place, a ghost of the past, comforted by wandering the desolation. I moved along the concrete jungle, listened to the sounds of life as it continued to take back what man had in fervor built up over her. Of course, this many years later, nature’s fight turned the tide. I walked through the dirty shadowed streets, long bereft of the touch of humans. Tufts of grass broke through cracks in the poured stone. These spots stood out as vivid patches of vibrant green in the dull gray landscape. Long vines of ivy stretched forth, like grasping fingers, as they tore at the remains of walls, felling them from their heights of glory.

 

I turned, strolled down a narrow alley between two dilapidated buildings. The old world didn’t make me nervous in the slightest. I’m not even sure why they put up the fence, I’ve never seen anything more dangerous than an errant squirrel. Though on occasion, I wandered for to long and let evening descend on me before I headed for home. On those days I have heard the baying of some creature echo through the air. I’m not sure what kind of creature it was, a wild dog or coyote perhaps, maybe even something as vicious as a wolf. Regardless the sound sent chills through my body. As I roamed the empty lots, I remained concerned about something worse than wild animals, the Wylder. No one told me to fear them. Hell, I didn’t even know what they were. All I had to go on was stories about half human monstrosities that would kill and eat you, or worse.

 

I spent at least an hour, maybe two wandering the vacant streets. I admired man’s ability to manipulate their environment, and the remnants left behind. The fallen signs, shattered, and broken, lay scattered in painted lots that fought against the green of life. Wheeled carts, upturned at weird angles, and the decaying husks of mass conveyance littered the streets, alongside corpulent buildings, small chunks breaking away in a light breeze with their smashed windows, bits of glass littered the ground, glinting in the afternoon sun, a myriad of small rainbows amongst the green and gray. The mixed beauty of man versus wild appealed to me, I guess that’s why they called it the Old World.

 

Soon I came upon my favorite haunt. It was a large building, and tucked away on its side was a series of ladders. They rose towards the peak of the huge building. Red patches of rust coated the old ironwork. I took exaggerated care, and started a slow ascent to the rooftop. With trepidation, I approached the lip of the behemoth, stepped up on the ledge, and gazed out towards the horizon in admiration. I looked down, a momentary dizziness washed over me. The height didn’t scare me, but the idea of the trip down did.

 

Dusk approached, and soon the sun would bid me good evening, descending beyond the horizon. The fading angular light cast a pallor of death over the land as I stared dumbstruck upon it from my perch. No, that is wrong, it looked more as something half alive with the sun’s life, on a slow steady march towards death. I stood, lost in the beauty. I remained transfixed as the shadows reached tendrillike fingers, and placed their claim on the earth.

 

As the shadows deepened, a shrill howl boomed through the countryside. It broke through my fascination of the Old World. I needed to head home, complete darkness would descend soon, and despite my bravado. I had no desire to remain outdoors after dark, even behind the safety of the wall.

Chapter 3: Wylder Days

The next day at school progressed not unlike the first. We started with minor lessons in each respective subject. I guess they didn’t want to overwhelm us with work so early in the year. I held out little hope in surviving this school year. Soon, though not soon enough for me, lunchtime came.

 

Somehow, even though it was only the second day of school, Cami already knew all about the happenings at school. She went on and on during the first half of lunch about who liked who, which boys were cute, which girls were on the do not date list and who everyone hated. To be honest though, I didn’t care. My mind drifted back to the breathtaking scenery of the rooftop from the day before. Even when Dhamon plopped down next to me with his tray of food, I continued spacing.

 

“Ugh,” Cami groaned at him as he shoveled food into his mouth noisily. “Can you be more of a slob?”

 

Dhamon grinned, his mouth still stuffed with food. “I could try if you like,” He said, and allowed crumbs to fall from his ajar mouth.

 

Cami opened her mouth to respond to his uncouth manners. A