Oasis

by jinnis

Atop the hill, a hot gust tore at my coat. It carried the smell of something burning, and I dropped flat on my stomach between two rusty sheets of metal, closed my eyes and sniffed. No, nothing, just the dust disturbed by my sudden fall and some flakes of rust tickled my nose. Perhaps the ghosts of the past haunted these ruins.

Still, I didn't intend to offer an easy target. With squinted eyes, I studied the surroundings, assuring my body was covered by the dry, knee-high grasses and the remains of ancient constructions. Only when I was convinced I was alone, I stood up and adjusted the pack's straps on my shoulders, placing the weight away from the sore spots. The lightness of my bag reminded me of my dwindling water supply. I had been walking since early morning and needed another drink soon, or my headache would become unbearable.

With a deep sigh, I continued my way towards the setting sun, increasing the distance between myself and my home with every step. The prospect of the long way back sent a shiver through my body. But I wouldn't and couldn't go home empty-handed. Besides, I had to find uncontaminated water before I started the return trek.

Water... always water that directed my moves. And not only mine. Since the Great War, everything turned around the availability of water. Even the war itself had been caused by growing water shortness, as unbelievable as it seems. Back then, there were still glaciers on the now-dry mountain ranges, and winter brought rain and snow.

At least, that's what my grandma told me. But then, she couldn't have known for sure, as she was born well after the war herself. So my dad called her a liar when she read us bedtime stories from a book with brittle pages covered in strange writing. Dad said she made it all up, that no one could read these ancient scribbles.

I believed him. He was an important person, the water master of the town. In his hand rested the responsibility for the precious liquid and—more often than not—the decision between life and death. It would never do to cross my dad, or I might go without water for a day. Grandma did, more than once. Then she packed her book away and stopped telling us bedtime stories.

"You're getting too old for them anyway," she said while she stirred the stew in the battered pot over the open fire. When I asked, she insisted the smoke caused the tears brimming her eyes.

That was ten years ago. Grandma died last summer. "The heat," Dad said.

We buried her body in the garden—for the nutrients. I doubted there were many in her frail and withered body. Still, I kept quiet. "Tradition keeps us alive," had been one of her favourite quotes. I never knew where she took them from. Perhaps her books. We found several underneath her mattress. Dad burned them in the cooking fire—cheap fuel.

I tried not to think about Grandma and her books too often. Dad told me I was too much like her, carrying my head in the clouds and a worthless member of society. Unlike my brother Sam, who trained to become a water master himself. Yes, Sam made my father proud.

Perhaps that's why I took up scavenging. It would never get me the standing my brother had, but it allowed me to leave the settlement for days. I would climb the hill beyond the town, look back one last time, and lose myself between the ruins. Few dared to venture where I did. In time, some respected me for the strange loot I brought back and praised my ingenuity. Not Dad, though—he'd never acknowledge me.

When other guys and gals asked to join me, I declined. I wasn't ready to share my secret with anyone. Grandma had gifted me two tiny devices the day before she died and explained its use. A compass, she called one, but it seemed like magic to me. I still remember her cackle when I told her so. The other, a broken whistle. "To keep the dogs away."

I didn't believe her, back then. But soon, I found more of her stories to be true and suspected she was right all the time.

Lost in thought, I stumbled over an old wire and landed flat on my stomach. While I struggled to stand up and dusted off my sun cloak, a distant giggle made me whirl around. "Who's there?"

No one responded. I must have imagined the sound. No one dared to venture this far during the dry season, not beyond the ancient valley where usable debris was scarce. I knew I wouldn't try to cross the dunes without grandma's compass and the knowledge of where to find water in the endless wastelands beyond the dunes.

Slowly, I turned around to scan my surroundings. Nothing... or... a movement in the corner of my eyes jogged me into motion. Could this be an animal? The prospect of a hunt sent adrenaline washing through my veins, and my fingers closed around the handle of my throwing knife.

My potential prey hid behind a boulder. I stalked it, setting my steps with care to avoid any noise. But when I was halfway there, a slender figure sprinted away, downhill at an incredible speed. Not an animal, a girl in an off-white tunic, a shock of black curls bobbing with every step. Where did she come from?

"Wait, I won't hurt you." She didn't heed my call. Surefooted, she scrambled up a protruding steel bar and jumped from its end onto a lumbering bulk of twisted metal, never looking back. What this slip of a girl could do would be easy for an expert scavenger like me. Without hesitation, I followed her through the debris of the old civilisation, avoiding sharp edges and treacherous structures. When I neared the base of the slope, I was sure I'd closed up on her. One last leap brought me to the metal roof of what grandma used to call a car, the one the girl had crossed before jumping across a dried-out waterway. But unlike hers, my boot crashed through the metal sheet, the sharp edge cutting through my breeches.

Hot blood spurted down my leg, and I tried to yank my boot out of the trap, but a sharp pain shot through my calf. My vision blurred, and I gasped for air. The last thing I saw was the girl disappearing between the boulders on the other side of the valley.

~

I woke up in an airy room on a soft pallet. The place smelled of something sweet, and I inhaled, trying to identify the fragrance.

"It's jasmine. Lovely, isn't it?" The quiet voice was female, older, but not as brittle as my grandma's had been. I craned my neck to look at the speaker, and she stepped into my field of vision. Long, dark hair streaked with silver fell over her shoulders, her face lean and serene, a narrow nose above lips curling up at the corners in a friendly smile. She wore loose pants and a long shirt falling over them, both garments made of the same off-white fabric as the child's tunic. Where did they get this rare material?

"How are you today? Feeling better?" Her gaze was intense, and her voice seemed used to command.

I frowned, trying to remember what had brought me to this strange place. "I guess. What happened?"

"You tell me. Seems you scared my grandchild to death and then crashed through a rusted iron sheet. Don't you know these things are dangerous?"

I winced. Yes, I knew, but the chase's intensity had made me imprudent. Such a stupid mistake. "How is your granddaughter?"

"Fine, eager to meet the stranger, but I won't allow her here until you tell me more about yourself."

That was fair. I pushed myself onto my elbows, ready to swing my legs over the rim of the cot.

The woman lifted her hand. "Careful, I had to sew your calf, and you lost a lot of blood. If you stand up, you'll probably fall unconscious again and destroy my needlework."

Heeding her words, I sat up, studying my wounded leg. It was bandaged in clean white fabric, looking innocent and fancy. "It doesn't hurt."

"Don't worry, it will as soon as the painkillers wear off. You'll hate me, then."

I didn't know how to respond. I'd hate myself first for making this stupid mistake, and the way she put it, she probably saved my life. "Did you bring me here?"

"Oh no, that was my son. Elaine rushed home to tell us she'd met a stranger atop the trash heap. At first, we didn't believe her, even scalded her for climbing in this place. It's been ages since someone visited Oasis. She seemed really disturbed, though, so Ali and his friend went to check and found you unconscious. You were lucky they came before you lost too much blood or the night beasts found you. And it's still possible you'll die of blood poisoning, you know."

The prospect sent an icy shiver down my spine. I didn't want to go that way, ever. Not for anything in the world if I could prevent it. "Thanks for helping me. May I ask something?"

"Sure, I'll try to answer if I can."

Her smile seemed genuine, and gave me more confidence. "What's your name? And where am I? This is clearly not Bordertown." I had never heard of a place called Oasis.

She suppressed a chuckle and sat down in a wicker chair, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger. "My name is Brianne, and no, this isn't Bordertown, nothing like it. I can't remember when I visited that place last. It must have been well before your birth."

It wasn't exactly an answer, and I wanted to tell her, but she lifted a hand to signal she hadn't finished. "Bordertown and the other settlements along the coast are not meant for people like me. We don't like how those in power try everything to keep themselves high and mighty. They won't shy away from murdering someone for the smallest offence."

Heat shot into my face, and I felt obliged to defend my hometown. "We don't practice the death sentence. Not like the southerners."

She steepled her fingers and studied me with half-closed eyes. "Of course—you don't call it killing. It's called a reprimand in the community's name, and the offender will be punished by denying them water. As if keeping someone without water for over three days would be better than outright killing them."

I closed my eyes, the heat in my face now caused more by shame than anger. I'd seen people die on the pillory, heated their desperate please. Was this what my dad was doing to keep himself in power? Was my brother headed this way, too?

The rustle of Brianne's robe and her approaching steps made me open my eyes fast. She stood in front of my cot, holding out a clear glass filled to the brim with water. "Here, drink. I didn't want to upset you so much. You should rest." She pressed the glass into my reluctant hand and turned to leave.

"Please, stay." I feared being alone, afraid of the dark thoughts triggered by her information. "I—I would like to know more about this place, Oasis."

This wasn't a lie. The smooth coolness of the glass in my hands fascinated me. I'd seen comparable riches only once when Sam and I had been invited to join Dad at the inauguration of the new major. Glass came in colourful shards used as gaming chits, in Bordertown, not as drinking vessels.

My host studied my face and settled in her chair again. "Very well. You'll have to tell me a few bits about yourself first, though. What is your name, and why did you venture out here? You're far from the normal activity radius of a townswoman."

I sipped at the precious glass, letting the cool liquid run down my parched throat. Then I paced the rare item on the bedside table with utmost care. "My name is Lia, and I'm a scavenger." Brianne nodded and I sighed. "It isn't too far, just a three days walk. I've been to the place I met your granddaughter several times."

Her fine dark brows wandered high on her forehead. "You're courageous, Lia. I give you that. Three days walking across the desert, braving an attack by wild dogs and without enough water for the way back?"

I shrugged. "I don't fear the dogs." I wasn't going to tell her about my toneless whistle. "When I came out here for the first time, I found water in a well in the northern hills. So, I knew I could fill up my bag before turning home."

"You speak of the shrine in the Split Hill? With the remnants of the ancient trees?"

"You know about it?" No one in Bordertown did. Otherwise, there would be a pilgrimage to the scrap heaps in this valley by now. I'd ensured no one followed my tracks when I went in this direction, only doing it at irregular intervals and taking a circuitous route. This place was my secret and offered me enough weird artefacts to allow me a comfortable life.

"Yes, it is an important place in our culture and mythology. Did you see the engravings?"

I did. Ancient pictures covered the rock above the fountain. Some scribbles between the figures of animals and humans reminded me of Grandma's books, and I'd stared at them for hours, trying to understand.

My host nodded. "You've seen them but don't understand them, right?"

"Yes. Can you read them?"

"Of course. Even Elaine can read, and you might too, if you're willing to learn."

I held my breath. Grandma had tried to teach me once, but my dad had raged when he found out. He threatened to withhold her water for a week, and she never mentioned reading again. A shiver ran down my spine, and my voice sounded thin. "It's forbidden knowledge."

"Who says this?"

"My father, my brother, the major—everyone in Bordertown." I reached for the glass and gulped down the water, fighting the fear that clawed at my mind while a glow of excitement ignited in my heart.

"I see. Well, reading and knowledge are not forbidden here. So, you would be safe if you decide to learn, little bird. But knowledge can trouble the mind—and once gained, it can't be unlearned."

Her gaze fixed on my face, and I wondered if she could read my thoughts and see the turmoil her words caused in my head. After a while, she stood. "Rest, Lia, and try to get some sleep. You have time to decide what you want, as you won't go anywhere these next few weeks."

~

Brianne was right. My leg wasn't healing as fast as I wished. While she could prevent infection, the wound was slow to scab, and after a week, I still couldn't put weight on my foot without lancets of agony shooting through my calf.

"Patience, Lia," Brianne used to say when she changed the bandages and applied a sharp-smelling cream to my leg.

After that first afternoon, she also taught me reading. It was an enjoyable way to while away the long days, especially when Elaine wasn't around. The girl and I had become fast friends in the past week. She was only four years younger and knew a lot of amazing stories. When she read from her favourite books, I felt like grandma was back by my side.

She promised to show me around the village, as she called Oasis, as soon as I was better. But Brianne still wasn't convinced I should leave my room. One day, after she'd left, I hopped to the nearest window to look out. It hurt, and I had to support myself on the wall, but I got there without falling.

I pushed back the lacy curtain and saw the settlement for the first time. To my surprise, my window was high above the ground, two stories at least. This explained the constant draft of air in the room. From my perch, I overlooked a place in the afternoon sun. Children played, and the elderly chatted in the shade of a tree. I spotted Elaine skipping down an alley towards the house and called out to her. She smiled, waved, said something to a friend, and ran towards the house.

Moments later, the door to my room opened. Elaine came in, followed by a smiling Brianne. "The little bird seems ready to fly, I hear?"

I shrugged, suddenly self-conscious. "I just wanted to look out."

"That's fine, and I think it will be good for you to get out of this room for a change. Elaine, can you fetch the crutches Ali made? I think Lia is ready to use them now."

The girl grinned. "I can't wait to show you everything." She twirled around and slammed the door behind herself. Her excitement sent a wave of joyful anticipation washing over me. Brianne shook her head and stepped up to me, overlooking the town. The afternoon sunlight danced over the folds of her silken dress and gave it a life of its own. So much beauty here.

When she spoke, a deep frown marred her forehead. "There is one problem, though. I brought your case before the council."

I didn't understand, so I waited for her to explain. She sighed and turned towards me, locking her gaze with mine, and icy dread filled my stomach. "They accept you came here by accident and show no I'll intent. But the relationship between Oasis and Bordertown remains strained."

"But I never even heard of Oasis before." It was the truth.

Brianne chuckled. "Your government is well aware of our existence, whatever they let you believe. And they don't like us much. So, the council's verdict is simple." Her smile turned sad as she reached out a hand and touched my arm, a gentle gesture. "You can't go back, Lia. Ever."