Free State of Nature: Book Three of The Park Service Trilogy by Ryan Winfield

UV lights awhile,” I say, just a little bummed that he wasn’t more convinced.
    We walk toward the water’s edge and sit on the sand.
    “Are we goin’ swimmin’?” he asks.
    “I guess we could,” I say, “but the water’s only about a meter deep.”
    “How deep’s a meter?” he asks.
    “About up to your waist.”
    “No wonder I had to teach ya to swim,” he says, laughing as he flops onto his back in the sand and closes his eyes.
    I lie down next to him and close my eyes too. I remember coming here to get away from the gray depression of the cavern and to dream about one day discovering a world without walls. Now I’ve found it, and hiked it, and swum in its oceans, and climbed its mountains, and sailed its seas, and here I am back again, right where it all began. Only this time, I have real worries and fears, not the silly boyhood problems I had then.
    I feel a cold sprinkle of water hit my naked chest, and I’m momentarily frozen, with my eyes glued shut. I have to remind myself that Red is no longer a bully and that I’m no longer a victim. I open my eyes and sit up and see Bill, the lifeguard, crouched in front of me, scooping another handful of water from a retreating wave. He sees me and grins, letting the water drip between his open fingers.
    “Thought I was going to have to chase for my bucket to wake you up,” he says. “You always did sleep like a stone.”
    “I wasn’t sleeping,” I reply.
    “Well, that’d be a first,” he says. “Didn’t they used to bury you to your neck in sand while you slept? Who’s your friend?”
    “This is Jimmy.”
    Bill reaches out and shakes Jimmy’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Jimmy. What’s that thing on your ankle there?”
    “Oh, that?” Jimmy asks. “It’s jus’ a thing, you know.”
    “It’s something people wear up at the foundation,” I say. “Like a monitor that warns you when the air is too thin.”
    “Oh,” Bill says, nodding, “I see. And why do you have the Foundation’s emblem carved onto your chest? Is that just something they do up there too?”
    I look down and realize that my scars are bright red in the UV lights. There’s a perfect upside down valknut there, carved in my flesh halfway around the globe by a five-hundred-year-old descendant of Dr. Radcliffe. This descendant had since been vaporized, along with the entire island and our fox. Maybe I should just tell Bill the truth—but he’d never believe it.
    “That’s just ... well; it’s from an accident with a thing I was doing. A misunderstanding, really. It’s still healing.”
    Bill shakes his head. “Looks painful, whatever it is. Listen, I heard your speech today in the square.”
    “You did? What did you think?”
    He scoops up a handful of sand and lets it fall between his fingers, thinking over his answer. The pause makes me nervous.
    “I thought it was convincing,” he finally says.
    Convincing? What does that mean? I want to ask him, but before I can say anything, he stands and says:
    “Anyway, I came over to let you know that we’re shutting down rec time so that everyone can meet back in the square.”
    “What meeting?” I ask, standing up and brushing the sand off my shorts. “Are we invited?”
    “I don’t see why not,” he says. Then he looks me over and adds, “Man, they must have you lifting the drones off the trains by hand up there. You sure are bigger than when you left.”
    I feel my chest swell a little with pride.
    Then he says, “Nice to meet you, Jimmy,” nods goodbye, and jogs off to shut down the illusionary beach.
    As Jimmy and I walk toward the locker rooms, the sun clicks off, the waves disappear, and the blue sky goes gray. We enter the shower together and shut the door. Jimmy follows my lead and strips off his shorts and stuffs them with mine in the hamper. Then we raise our arms and wait for the blast of hot water, looking like a couple of naked and surrendering refugees being washed down before being admitted into