Free Greenhaus Part 1: A Storm Brews by Bryan Reckelhoff Page A

up again. Ella’s preconceived notions led her to believe that the stranger on the other side of the glass betrayed her position, but soon he returned to the glass without them, pretending to strap down his supplies as he clearly mouthed to her, ‘It’ll be OK’.
    She kep t watch at the end of the city, waiting for the Rangers to appear, but they never came. Are we wrong about those on the Inside or is this stranger setting a trap? Ella expected a net of Rangers to fall all around her at any moment, as if they were waiting patiently until conditions were right before apprehending her. But they never came. For the first time in her life, her convictions were being tested. Was this stranger a friend, and not a foe?
    Ella rolled over on her side, with as little movement as possi ble to avoid catching the gaze of another on the Inside, a person possibly less compassionate than this man, the man with one brown and one blue eye. A man she had already taken to calling her ‘Stranger Friend’, a man she hoped she could trust.
    She rolled her head back to the Inside as another group of Rangers appeared and Ella watched him give the same set of instructions. The red and white stripes down the sides of their navy skin suits made her skin crawl. The gold stars on their left pectoral muscle were the ultimate symbol of oppression, a target all on the Outside had practiced attacking time and time again. Hitting the gold starred bulls-eye meant instant hero status to any in the Masked camps and resulted in a ‘notch’ somewhere on their mask. As of yet Ella had not attained this ranking, but heard gruesome tales of death from others who did. There were also tales of those who witnessed attempts that failed, resulting in capture or death. It was not that she was averse to killing one of them; Ella just preferred living through the encounter. Despite the horrible living conditions and the trouble she was in with her Elder, Ella still wanted to live, to get away, safe and sound, even if it meant making a new bunker in the hills.
    Still frozen, partly by f ear, partly by instruction from her Stranger Friend, Ella watched another group of Rangers exit the build site. The alarm stopped, a welcome relief to any within earshot of its ear drum popping buzz. Inside she noticed some pulling plugs from their ears, while everyone else, including Stranger Friend, rubbed their ears, something she would have loved to do if not for her mask. After a brief discussion, Stranger Friend waved off his coworker before he once again approached the glass.
    Oddly, Ella welcomed his presence, although he was still the enemy and likely tomorrow when the rage returned she would want him dead. In this instance, though, they shared a bond. An unexplainable, but definite bond.  Ella was sure the Stranger felt it too, why else would he have helped her by sending the Rangers astray? She could not talk to him, not with words anyway, but Ella did not need him to say anything. His eyes said plenty.
    Ella tried talking with hers, but her previous exposure to the use of facial expressions as a fo rm of communication was limited, almost completely nonexistent. Hers was a world of verbalization and action, not passive communication or subtleties and she doubted the message sent was properly received.
    A foreign emotion was running through her. The co nstant hate, anger, and rage that plagued her mind every waking minute, feelings that tortured her soul and haunted her dreams, had subsided. Maybe it was the fear that left her frozen in this spot for the better part of half a day, a fear that exponentially grew when the alarm sounded, but this new feeling had her wanting to stay.
    This new emotion was light and the grumbling in her stomach was replaced by a flutter within. When she looked into his eyes, her body relaxed. The ever present tension in her he ad and neck disappeared. Her breathing became less strenuous. She felt unburdened, and that if she wanted to float, she