Beyond the Thorns: A Novel

I yawn, glancing over to see Ross still knocked out from last night’s research. It’s been a couple of days since Ross’ late night walk and Mist continues to pry about it. But Ross willn’t give anything about it. Stretching, I get up to notice his movements.

Is he having a nightmare or something?

“Hey buddy…” I shake his shoulder a little to no response. I mutter a bit beneath my breath and go to brush my long, sheddy, matt-filled hair.

Should I cut some of it off? I think before hearing a sharp gasp from out of view. “‘You good?”

“Yeah,” I hear him grumble. “Just a bad dream is all,” he says as I step around to put Ross into view.

“You’ve been having bad dreams since yesterday, ‘you sure everything’s good?”

“Mm, just remembering things,” he dismisses my worry.

“‘Must be some nasty things,” I comment.

Ross does a little smirking huff, “heh, yeah. Life could go a little easy on me.”

“If you get some mercy I’d need a share,” I laugh, tying up my hair.

He laughs, “I’ll see what I can do.” Ross looks up with his piercing eyes, though for ice-blue eyes, they’re more kind than cold.

He’d be a good bard with the right charisma count. I think as we go to meet up with the girls.

We all eat and talk, the girls seemingly less influenced by their old habits.

Ross sighs “I wish we could of gotten more information from those texts.”

“I guess y’all are gonna be writing the ‘Diary of Anne Frank’ of the Labs instead,” I say, lifting my orange juice to the girls.

“What’s the ‘Diary of an Frank’?” Cana deadpans.

“ ‘Diary of Anne Frank’ or ‘The Diary of a Young Girl’ is a novel about a girl who was born in a bad time of the AD period. She documented all her struggles and made them into a book. Most schools use it as class reading in secondary or tertiary level schools.” I see Mist and Cana’s visible confusion as Ross got to ‘a novel’.

“Whazzat?” Cana asks again.

“A book about some girl’s life a long time ago where she had lots of problems,” I say.

“Ohh,” the two girls say in unison with slightly opened mouths.

“I guess I have to since I’m the only one who can read,” Cana grins smugly at Mist who glares back.

Ross drums lightly on the table before stamping his digits down. “How many other Tested escaped with you?”

Cana fidgets with her fingers, “about twelve…”

“But some may have gotten caught,” Mist intervenes.

“If there’s a chance to find more Tested, we can round them up and help them understand the real world along with get more information on the Labs. We can then use that information to back up our thought of shutting down the Labs,” Ross whips out his notebook. “What are the other’s names?”

“Iris, Sam, Missy, Antadon,” Cana rattles off names with hand motions to herself. I lost track of how many she said. “Flit and Luke…” she casts her eyes down for a moment after saying ‘Luke’.

“Any surnames?”

“Surnames?”

“Last names I mean.”

“Sam’s was Samuel Johnson, Iris Wels,” she continues listing, this one only shorter. “And Luke Grayhart.”

“H-E-A-R-T or H-A-R-T? And Wells with two Ls?”

“He always joked about Gray-hurt with an A, and I dunno.”

A bit of scribbling was done before Ross continued. “Alright, find the Tested, save the Tested. Sounds good?”

Operation: Find those Tested is a go.

“Just don’t talk about Tested so openly,” Ross smiles sheepishly.

“Why?” Cana yips.

“This isn’t a Lab- most people hate anything talked of or related to the Labs. It’s just a-”

“Ross, the smithy wants to talk with-”

“Not now Kylee,” Ross quickly cuts the coily-haired female off. “It’s just an unspoken rule in the real world, I recommend getting used to it.”

“Wow, feisty today,” Mist comments saucily.

“Talk about it,” Kylee says sarcastically.

“When did y’all get so chummy?” Carson returns with a similar grin to Kylee’s.

“Just now actually,” Kylee jokes. “But Ross, the-”

“No.”

“Wh-”

“No.”

“Either you come to him or he comes to you-”

“Like he can get his lazy ass off the property without shriveling up like the Wicked Witch of the West.” Ross barks, making Kylee start to say something, only to groan.

“You know he’ll keep on trying…”

“And I’m gonna keep on declining.”

It turns silent for a second, which became a couple minutes.

“. . . just a precaution, Ross.” Kylee says awkwardly before walking off. What was that about?

More importantly, is Ross alright?

The day passes without mention of the morning, we end the hours of library researching once more and we start settling down for the night’s rest. Ross and I are fixing for sleep when I ask about the morning’s events.

“Oh, it’s nothing you have ta’ worry about,” Ross says, not looking up from his notebook.

“‘You sure? I mean, why hide junk if it’s just weighin’ you down and ya’ have someone offering to help with your load?” I respond, trying to pull my T-shirt off without my undershirt going with.

“There’s not a likely chance you can help out with it,” Ross fiddles with his pen a little.

“It’s better to tell someone than waste away somewhere filled with regrets,” I plop down on the ground beside him, crossing my legs.

He sighs, “Jyra. I know you’re a bard n’ all but a song n’ dance won’t fix everything.”

“Will it convince you to tell me what’s up?” I quirk my eyebrow quizzically.

Ross smirks, “if I did tell you, you seem the type to use that ‘junk’ against me.”

“Oh, like a gossip girl?” I ask before impersonating one until Ross starts laughing.

He dies down before answering, “fine. I’ll tell you as long as you keep it quiet.”

“Yessir.” I flop onto my back.

Ross hesitates before explaining, “my father never left his ‘post’, which was work as we lived where he worked. I rarely saw my mother because she works for the Lab and income wasn’t steady so my sister, Lillian, decided to take on jobs on jobs to help provide. She worked along and took time to entertain me. I guess it was the overexertion that made her fall ill a few years back. But since I was a little too young and my dad would never leave the house if it killed ‘im, it took a long time to get a doctor. When we finally managed to get one, they told us it was terminal.” Ross starts to well up, clutching his notebook tightly.

“Oh I’m so-”

“‘Sorry’ is just something people say, most of the time it doesn’t amount to anything.” He turns, ice-blue eyes coldly sharpening their gazes before continuing. “My father didn’t even show up to her funeral,” he growls the spiteful comment. “Afterward, I took up school and worked jobs to get the money to leave for a different city. As soon as humanly possible, that’s how I got to Yalev.”

I pause, “... whell. Wow, that seems like an eventful childhood. I can understand why someone’d not want to experience someone who did things like that. Even if he’s your dad, you can forgive without forgetting.”

“Fair. I guess I should sleep on it,” Ross replies thoughtfully, laying down to bed.

With that, I and Ross get set in our separate futons and close our eyes for sleep.