by Nancy Isaak
I smiled weakly up at her. “Tried.”
“Well, this doesn’t bode well. Everyone is looking for you. Some of the dumber guys even think that you’ve run away. You want me to head out there and tell them that you’re sick?”
“No!” I shook my head only slightly because—the more I moved—the more I felt like hurling. “Just give me a moment. It doesn’t usually last more than an hour.”
“And how long have you been praying to this particular porcelain god?”
“About an hour…oh crap!” I leaned over and began dry-heaving.
“Oh, Kaylee…”
“Don’t oh, Kaylee me…it’s almost over. Nothing even came out that time.”
“You know if you’re sick, then no one can really fault you for not going into that stupid Arena.”
I pushed back from the toilet, letting its lid slam down. “Well…that sucked.”
“Did you hear what I just told you?” asked Cherry.
“You said a lot of things.” I leaned my back against the wall, gathering my strength, willing my stomach to quit its antics. “After a while, it just becomes a lot of wah-wah-wah.”
Cherry pretended to smack me on my head.
“Just hand me that washcloth over there,” I instructed her. “And I’ve got some water in that bottle. Let me clean off my face, so I can get out of here.”
She started to lean over, reaching for the washcloth; halfway there, she froze.
“Cherry,” I asked, “are you okay?”
Her face was tense when she turned back toward me. “I just realized what you said.”
I shrugged my shoulders, trying to remain nonchalant. “I said a lot of wah-wah-wah, too.”
“No, I don’t think so. What you said was that your puking doesn’t usually last more than an hour.”
“Okay.”
“Like…like you’ve been puking a lot.”
“I’m pretty sure that wasn’t what I meant.”
Trying not to make any sudden moves, I slowly pushed myself up off of the floor. “I meant that when I get sick, like with the stomach flu or something, I don’t usually throw up for more than about an hour. Now, that makes sense.”
I held out my hand for the washcloth, but Cherry didn’t give it to me; instead, she hid it behind her back.
“Oh, that’s mature,” I tried to joke.
“You sneaky little twit,” she hissed. “You’re pregnant!”
I stepped back, pretending to be shocked. “No, I’m not!”
“Yes, you are…and I can prove it.”
“There is no freaking way I’m taking a pregnancy test now!”
She snorted, indignant. “I don’t need to give you a test to know if you’re pregnant. It’s a hell of a lot easier than that, Kaylee Michelson. You want to know how easy it is for me to find out…you want to know?”
If I had been smart, I wouldn’t have responded to Cherry’s taunts; instead, I would have simply pushed past her and gone out to find some breakfast.
But there’s smart…and then there’s smart.
“Fine!” I put my hands on my hips, showing her that I could be indignant, too. “How easy is it for you, smarty-pants?”
Cherry, however, was not intimidated at all. She got right up in my face, forcing me to look directly into her eyes—daring me to look away.
“Kaylee Michelson,” she said—very softly. “I love you like a sister. So, I want you to know that—if I was pregnant and had one chance to give my daughter a life of peace and equality…I would do exactly the same thing you are doing now.”
And my eyes filled with tears, betraying me.
“It could be a boy,” I whispered.
* * * *
As we walked toward the dining room a few minutes later, I leaned over and spoke quietly to Cherry. “Please don’t tell them!”
“Of course not,” she responded; we were holding hands and Cherry squeezed mine softly. “But I still think it’s amazing what you’re doing…totally, utterly amazing.”
I squeezed her hand back.
“Stop talking like that,” I ordered. “You’re going to make me cry, and I have to be brave now.”
* * * *
Alice held up one of the cross-necklaces, dangling it in front of my face. “You sure?” She had caught up with Cherry and me just outside of the dining room.
I shook my head. “The only chance we have is inside of that Arena. If I get stopped outside at the checkpoint, because they find a knife on me, then everything we’ve planned will be for nothing.”
“Understood.” Alice tucked the necklace into one of the pockets of her jeans. Then, as if having second thoughts, she pulled the cross back out and placed it around her own neck, hiding it under the flannel shirt she was wearing. “Look, Kaylee…um…I have to head out now.”
“I know. You’ll be entering the Arena with the Foxes.”
“Right, so…” She stopped talking—looked down at the boots on her feet.
“Alice?”
Before I could say anything else, she surprised me—surprised all of us—by hugging me, enfolding me in her long, muscular arms. It wasn’t for very long, but it was definitely heartfelt; Alice held on tight, her body shaking with sudden emotion.
When she let me go, however—she was Alice once more.
“Kill the mofo,” she told me—emotionless.
And then she was gone.
* * * *
Over the next hour, the dining room began to empty as Stars and their ‘slaves’ left in small groups to make their way toward the Arena. We were all leaving at different times; that way, if one or more of us were arrested by the White Shirts, the others would hopefully still have a chance to complete the mission.
Finally—besides me—there was just Nate, Erroll, Cherry, and a single Star left in the room. Although I had been introduced to the Star previously, I had forgotten his name.
He was Cherry’s ‘owner’ and, in a few minutes, would be leaving with her. But—for now—he was standing off near a window, pretending to be watching for White Shirts; in reality, he was giving the four of us some privacy.
“We’re doing the right thing, aren’t we?” asked Nate.
He looked scared—but then—we all did.
I nodded. “It’s the right thing.”
Erroll reached out and touched the white sheet that I was holding in my arms. “At least, you don’t have to wear the stinky one this time.”
Beside me, Cherry began to cry softly—tiny sobs of distress, barely heard.
“You’re supposed to be the strong one,” I teased, nudging her with my elbow. “The type of girl who could keep another alive by licking water off a wall and spitting it into her mouth.”
“Eww!” gagged Nate. “Like that’s disgusting!”
It had the desired effect, however.
Cherry’s sobs ended, replaced with giggles. “I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about. And I agree with Nate—that’s disgusting.”
“It wasn’t the most pleasant thing to watch,” I agreed.
“You mean that actually happened?!” asked Nate, astonished.
Cherry quickly shook her head. “Of course not!”
“Was the girl Jude?” Nate persisted. “Like I heard a rumor that you saved her life?”
“Not even!” sniffed Cherry. “Don’t even like the bitch.”
It was obvious that Nate didn’t believe her; even Erroll was looking down at Cherry with a newfound respect.
“She’s a warrior,” I told the guys. Then, I reached out for all three of them, pulling us together until we were a small circle—our arms around each other, heads touching. “We all are.”
Cherry began to sniffle again.
“All of you guys…me,” I continued, “we’ve all done things we didn’t know we could—to protect each other, to protect those we love down on the Point…even to protect people we don’t know up here in the Valley…because this is who we are.”
I suddenly noticed that Nate an
d Erroll both had tears in their eyes.
“You are my brothers,” I told them. “Just as Cherry is my sister. And I will be stronger in the Arena knowing that all of you will be there—protecting me, having my back. I love you without end and...”
For a moment, I couldn’t speak—holding in sobs that struggled to be released, tears that desperately needed to fall. I had to wait—getting my emotions under control—before I could continue. “I love you, Erroll—for guarding my life and keeping me safe for so long. I love you, Nate—for coming back into hell just because I asked, even though what you really wanted was simply to stay home and surf with your little brothers. And I love you, Cherry—for things told and untold—but not in a sexual way, of course.”
“Like you’re even my type,” Cherry managed to choke out in a half-sob, half-laugh.
“And now I’m going to ask for one last favor,” I said. “No, I’m sorry...let me change that…I’m giving the three of you one last order. And I want you all to fulfill it—without question, when it’s time.”
I looked at each of my friends in turn—waiting until they nodded their agreement.
Cherry was the only hold-out, of course. “You’re not gonna’ tell us what it is, are you?”
“Not until you agree.”
“God, you annoy me!” she muttered; then, she reluctantly nodded. “Whatever.”
“Thank you,” I said, satisfied. “Now, here is your final order; no matter what happens—if I go down in that Arena, even if I’m still alive—you three are to immediately get out of Agoura, find your way to the Point as quickly as possible, and evacuate everyone onto the boats and over to Catalina Island.”
Erroll groaned. “I don’t know if I can do that.”
“You gave me your word,” I reminded him. “And the Locals are going to need you guys. They won’t know what’s coming until it’s too late. But, with the three of you—our tribe will still have a chance.”
“We’ll do it!” said Cherry, quickly. “Won’t we, guys?”
Nate and Erroll both stared at Cherry; she stared right back, unwavering.
Slowly—they both nodded.
“See,” said Cherry, pleased. “Whatever you want, Mother—we’ll follow your orders…no matter what.”
Of course—she was lying.
They all were.
* * * *
I could hear and smell the Arena before we were even close.
Cherry and her Star had already gone on ahead of us, so it was only Nate, Erroll, and I making our way through Chumash Park. We had entered it through the far end, coming across Kanan Road and the little pedestrian bridge over the culvert—eventually making our way onto the baseball field.
Or what had once been the baseball field.
Now, it was just dirt and dust; the knee-high grass and weeds I had seen when I was here last were long gone. Between the lack of irrigation and the hundreds of feet that must have trampled back and forth on it day-after-day, the baseball field was now a distant memory.
“Even the trees are gone!” I grumbled. “Chumash Park had the most beautiful fir trees—like those really, really tall ones. This park was so beautiful—so green.”
“Crazies probably cut the trees down for firewood,” said Nate.
“Fracking clear-cutters!” I muttered. “Haven’t they ever heard of sustainable logging?”
“They’re slavers and flesh-eaters,” Erroll said, grimly. “Pretty sure they don’t give a damn. Now, be quiet, girl—because we’re getting close.”
I was about to say something snarky about being called ‘girl’, but Nate gave a sharp yank on my chain, causing me to stumble.
“You’ll pay for that!” I whispered.
“Shaddup, slave!” said Nate, turning to give me a mean grin. “Play your part.”
“So gonna’ pay.”
There was a sudden roar of a crowd of people—obviously coming from the Arena across from the far end of Chumash Park; a series of cracks followed and the crowd screamed even louder.
“Those noises?” asked Erroll, keeping his voice low even though there wasn’t anyone near us.
“I think that’s a whip being used,” said Nate.
“Probably that bitch, Tray,” I muttered. “I swear, one day I’m going to take her out.”
“Get steppin’ then,” said Erroll. “This could be your day.”
* * * *
“Look at all those tents,” whispered Nate. “There has to be over a hundred of them.”
We stood on the sidewalk—where it rose slightly along Argos Street—looking down over the largest field in Chumash Park. Like the baseball field at the other end of the park, this area had lost its green completely—its once towering trees replaced with dead and drying stumps.
Now, instead of lacrosse players chasing each other across the grass—or little kids flying kites that would inevitably become snagged in high-up branches—or four lonely, scared girls lying on their backs, watching the meteor showers, there were now dozens of tents set up all across the field in uneven rows.
All sizes, all shapes.
There was even an old, pink Disney Princess tent at the end of one row. A large pair of combat boots stuck out of its open flaps. From the loud snorts we could hear even from where we stood, inside that child’s tent was a Crazy attached to those combat boots, no doubt sleeping off a night of debased revelry.
“Man, it stinks here!” Nate held his nose shut. “Like they’re crapping and pissing everywhere. They’re not even going in their foul area. I mean they’re doing it right outside of their tents.”
“Jay and Porter would freak if they saw this,” I said, quietly. “I mean, can you imagine the bacteria squirming all over this place? If people aren’t sick already, then they’re definitely about to get sick.”
Meanwhile, in front of a number of the tents, I noticed that there were also metal poles stuck into the ground. Attached to rings at the top of the poles were chains similar to the one around my own neck. The far ends of those chains disappeared inside of opened tent flaps, where I could see dark shapes, hunched over in their pain and despair—just waiting.
“Do you see them?” I whispered to Nate and Erroll. “The girls in the tents…the slaves?”
They both nodded, frowning.
“In the old world, we didn’t even chain up dogs anymore,” I said, quietly. “Because it was inhumane.” I placed my hands around the chain on my own neck, sliding my fingers around the loops, trying to pull the links into a more comfortable position. “Did Jacob ever tell you guys about his mother’s theory—about why some people can be so evil and others aren’t?”
“His mom was the investigative reporter, right?” said Nate.
I nodded. “She won all these awards and she wrote these amazing articles that, like saved all these kids. Jacob’s mom went into all these third world countries by herself and just, like kicked ass to expose the truth.”
“So, what was her theory?” asked Erroll.
Down among the tents, a sheeted figure suddenly crawled out through an opened flap. The figure rose slowly—as if in pain—and, hunched over, made its way, step-by-step, to the farthest end of its chain.
There—again, very slowly—the figure got down on its hands and knees and began to pray.
“Faith,” announced Nate—his voice full of awe. “She still believes.”
“Walk us past her,” I ordered Nate. “That girl down there…do it now!”
“Not a good idea,” warned Erroll. “It’d be safer going along the sidewalk, missing the tents all together. Not just because there might be White Shirts. Don’t forget about all the bacteria.”
“Since when does Kaylee take the safe way?” grinned Nate. He gave a light tug on my chain. “Well, come on, Miss Bossy-pants…let’s go visit Smelly-town.”
* * * *
We went right up to the girl—slowing only slightly as we neared.
She looked up as we approached; if she was scared, it didn’t
show in her body language. The girl remained on her knees, merely turning to look at us.
Her eyes—the only thing visible through her dirty sheet—traveled over Nate and Erroll, finally settling on my own eyes—the only thing that would have been visible to her through my own sheet.
“I have a message for you,” I told the girl—speaking loud enough for only her ears. She immediately went still, her eyes widening in alarm.
“Your prayers are being heard,” I told her. “You have not been abandoned.”
The girl blinked once…twice.
Then, she gasped—a sudden intake of air.
Behind me, Erroll reached into his pocket; he pulled out a cross-necklace, letting it fall from his hand onto the ground in front of the girl. She snatched at it quickly, drawing the necklace under her sheet before anybody could see.
“A gift from Mother,” Erroll said. “Examine it closely to discover its secret.”
“Are you Stars?” the girl whispered, hopefully.
I ignored her question, telling the girl instead to—“Be prepared! When you hear the call, rise up and take back your life. If you can, let the others around you know. Tell them to gather whatever they can find—rocks, sticks, anything to fight with. Tell them to be ready. Tell them that the time to fight back is now!”
* * * *
As Nate, Erroll, and I continued along the row of tents, I spared a few moments to look behind at the girl. She was moving in an arc—at the very end of her chain—calling quietly to another sheeted figure who was just emerging from a nearby tent.
“Well, that was stupid,” muttered Erroll. “Like completely unnecessary.”
“You’re the one who gave her the cross,” I said. “And like how come you had one anyway? You know that I didn’t want to take any weapons into the Arena that could get us caught.”
Erroll said nothing—pretending that he hadn’t heard.
A chill suddenly went through me. “Ohmigod, Erroll…do you have other weapons on you?!”
When Erroll still didn’t respond, I pulled back on my chain, forcing Nate to stop. We were presently between two rows of tents. The ones nearest us appeared to be empty—no doubt, their owners were already seated within the Arena.