2024 Flash Fiction Contest Honorable Mention

Honorable Mention - Katie Moriarty Beyond the Wall

Miles had shaken many hands, but none as significant as the one he reached for now.

“It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Great work, Miles,” she said, gripping his hand. “People liked your article. You’ve got them hoping for a future out of here.”

Hope? He hadn’t been trying to inspire hope- it spilled out of his article like coffee from an overturned mug- messy and irreversible.

“We can’t have people forgetting why we live within these walls. The Harrowed are a threat to all of us,” Madame Walker continued, her voice low.

Miles’s teachers had brought the Harrowed to life in grade school the way authors brought vampires and dragons to life, but he had never seen them. Neither had anyone he knew- not even Madame Walker.

The walls kept the Harrowed out. Or, maybe in? It made no difference to Miles. The safety they offered was comforting either way.

Yet- their mystery still pulled him. He’d tugged at the threads with his article but stopped before it unraveled.

But Miles knew what Madame Walker meant, “Yes, we cannot forget.” Had he forgotten the danger for a moment? Miles wasn’t sure.

“I need to know how many are left,” Madame Walker leaned in, her fierce stare letting Miles know this was no request. “Let us know if it’s safe to come out of this cage.”

The idea of the town spilling out of the walls into an empty world amused Miles. No one who had reported on the Harrowed came back to tell the tale. Now, Madame Walker was considering opening the gates?

Miles squirmed in his seat. “I can’t do that,” he said. “I’ve got a wife and kids depending on me.” Miles quickly formed an excuse- though he hadn’t given thought to his family.

“I know,” Madame Walker replied, “But, you have a bigger responsibility now.”

Life was predictable, well-oiled. Miles knew what to expect every single day. Madame Walker had just tasked the unknown, stirring fear and curiosity in Miles’s chest.

“I’m no good with numbers. Send someone else and I’ll write it up when they bring back the count.” Miles felt a bead of sweat form while he waited for Madame Walker to respond.

“The story is yours- to investigate and report,” Madame Walker said with a smile, amused at his excuses. Miles nearly groaned. When Madame Walker made an order, you could not refuse.

“Why me?” Miles muttered.

Madame Walker answered him. “You asked the question- got other people asking the question. Questions can be just as dangerous as the Harrowed themselves. You need to answer it for them.”

The question Miles had posed: Are the Harrowed still there?

Madame Walker stood. Miles stood too, mostly out of habit. “I’ll walk you to the exclusion zone, and from there you’ll continue out of the walls.” She paused, “Make sure you get a good count- account for them all.” Madame Walker appeared to wink at him, but on second thought- she perhaps had something in her eye.

As they walked, Miles’s heart raced. Were the Harrowed real? Miles’s certainty that they were grew with each step. The smallest bit of doubt remained, and propelled him forward, letting him win the internal battle to retreat.

Madame Walker glided next to him- this was her town after all. Her people to protect. She was protecting them now. Miles had never considered himself dangerous. Then again, what did he know about danger?

They stopped at the exclusion zone. The guards who stood watch had never seen a Harrowed either but acted like they were in imminent danger. It was all part of the job.

At the small door- the only exit point in the entire wall, Madame Walker nodded, “Take care of yourself, Miles.”

Miles raised his pen- the most dangerous weapon he owned- and saluted like the guards. They were as useless to him now as they had ever been.

Miles hesitated, feeling Madame Walker’s watchful eyes on his back, “Understand, Miles: you’re about to learn why nobody leaves these walls,” she said, with the sweetness of poison. Miles shrunk under the weight of her words. He ignored the alarm bells in his mind and stepped through. The door clicked shut like a casket closing.

Miles turned back- the door was gone- swallowed by the wall. No seams. No handles. No way back. Miles swallowed hard.

The sense of safety he had vanished, and fear began to gnaw at him.

Miles’s body tensed, ready for the ruins. He braced himself for the wasteland of bones, abandoned homes, and nearly certain death.

Miles’s jaw dropped at what he saw instead. It must have been an illusion.

The ground bloomed with colors- red, orange, blue, filling the air with a sweet floral smell. Beyond that- rows of homes, recently built. Each with gardens lush with food. The air was fresher than he had ever breathed. A scene from a fairy tale.

Miles blinked and rubbed his eyes. The image remained.

Sidewalks and manicured lawns, cars driving down the streets, even children laughing in the distance.

A man walked past with his dog, whistling a song, “Hey, you alright buddy? You don’t look so good.”

Miles laughed, his voice cracking, “The Harrowed… they’re gone?” It sounded ridiculous as soon as he’d said it.

The man twisted his face, “The what?”

Miles stood with the whole world laid in front of him. His heart raced as he took it all in.

Fear had imprisoned him, and everyone he knew for so long. The Harrowed were just a myth- but he couldn’t share that with anyone. They’d have to discover it for themselves. Madame Walker would tell the town he died- and Miles thought, perhaps he had. He was certainly not the same person, and never would be again.

He stepped forward into the grass, feeling it spring under his foot, then took another step towards the town.

Miles was free, liberated from fear, ready to discover the world ahead.