If I Lose

by Kelsey D. Garmendia

  She pauses and looks up at me. I never noticed, but there are so many differences between Isha and Marieska. She doesn’t have the ocean-blue eyes, his odd accent like he’s from a different part of the world. I can see him in her, but more a shadow than anything.

  “You were stabbed, near death, but you survived against everyone’s expectations. Not only did you survive, but you were a fighter from day one.

  Gunnar stepped into power and ordered you out of here. He said that if you couldn’t be tamed into a normal ‘Fort Dweller,’ that you couldn’t stay and risk tearing the Fort down from the inside.

  Isha was an expert in this. Part of me believes it’s because he lost his best friend when all this started. It took the life, heart, even feeling right out of him. So when you came across his desk, he said he could handle you.”

  “Are you—are you saying that Isha assigned me to be interrogated?”

  Marieska sighs and pushes her silky black bangs from her face. “It’s complicated—”

  “So that means yes.”

  “I said it’s complicated because it is. Isha was different—”

  “I was tortured for weeks! While I was pregnant!”

  “And he regrets that decision more than anything he’s done since the food disappeared,” she yells. We sit in silence for a good thirty seconds that feels like a decade.

  How could Isha shove me in a concrete room with Gunnar? He beat me until I couldn’t talk. I remember the fear, the confusion that flooded my memory. But the one thing that stings the most is my trust shattering.

  I did trust Isha. I know it now because I can feel it splintering. Even after Keturah disappeared, even after he wouldn’t admit to being the hypnotist, even after he sided with the soldiers—why I continued to trust him, I didn’t really know. Part of it was because I needed friends, allies, people I could keep close and not worry about what I said in front of them. But the larger part of it was when I was hypnotized, or remembering as I like to call it, Isha was helping me. He barely knew who I was at that point.

  But now I just feel like he was the one twisting the knife in my back all these years here.

  “Listen, I know he broke your trust. If I were you, I’d feel that way too. But he is a good person, Hayley,” she grabs my arm to get my attention. “He just got mixed up along the way.”

  I nod my head. “Is Keturah dead?” I ask. The question seems to just pour out of my subconscious. I don’t regret it—probably would’ve kept me up tonight if I hadn’t asked.

  “No,” she says.

  “Did they kick her out?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Are they torturing her?”

  “Probably.”

  The last answer makes me stumble. I look over at her. Maybe I heard it wrong. But the grim look on her face makes me shudder. “Isha did that to her too?”

  “He was told she was being induced,” Marieska says. “He assumed the worst. But he’s no longer in charge of that division in Rehabilitation.”

  “So something did happen to her?” I say again hoping for a different answer.

  “Yes,” she says. “They found Aisley’s notebook with your messages to each other in it. That’s why Aisley was put in officer training, that’s why Gunnar stalks you like a hawk, and that’s why Isha hasn’t left your side since Keturah—” she clears her throat and doesn’t continue.

  “Since Keturah what?”

  “Since she was induced,” she says. I can hear the lie in her voice. “The point is—Isha is trying to help you. Gunnar and his minions know way more than you think they do about your life. They moved Aisley to officer training to get her farther away from you. What do you think they’re going to do to Nolan once he’s of age?”

  I don’t ask questions. I can tell Marieska knows what happens to people who don’t fall into place. If Gunnar knows about Aisley’s journal, that means he knows I lied to him. He’ll hurt them, take them away from me, kill them in front of me or kill me in front of them. The list is endless.

  “How do you know all of this?” I say.

  She laughs and looks off into the dark of the stairwell. “Trust me, Hayley. You don’t want to be in my shoes. You don’t want to know what happens to people who rebel against Gunnar, who lie to his face about things,” she says. “The things that happen in the dark here will kill you.”

  A whimper seeps through my lips. I always knew that, but to hear it from someone else made it real. My skin breaks out in goosebumps; they could be watching right now.

  “Hayley,” Marieska says. The stones deaden her voice—a dull echoing of my whimpering reaches my ears. “This is why I stopped you.

  As long as Isha is with you, Gunnar won’t touch you. Isha would kill himself in the process of saving you.

  I don’t know what you did to him, but he’s closer to his old self, and that version of him won’t back down. He’ll keep fighting until we’re all safe. He knows with Gunnar in power that everyone’s walking on eggshells. He has a plan.”

  “And what is that?”

  “I don’t know,” she says.

  Truth.

  I run my fingers through my hair and breathe in. She lays her hand on my back and whispers the last bit into my ear. “I know you lost Xavier, but in return you’ve gained friends here. Just give Isha a chance to right his wrongs. He still wants to protect you.”

  October 31, 2017: Nolan’s Birthday

  The flames on the spiral-colored candles elongate as we all sing “Happy Birthday” to Nolan. I watch the wax drip down onto the white icing of the muffin. Cake mix wasn’t on the list of approved items for Third Class, so a muffin had to suffice.

  Aisley and Tristan sit next to each other at the table. She laughs when Tristan sings the last note in falsetto. Nolan is smiling ear to ear. One of his front teeth are missing and his tongue sticks out of the gap.

  “Make a wish,” Tristan says rustling Nolan’s dark curly hair.

  He looks over at me and smiles before closing his eyes. He extinguishes the six candles—one for good luck—in one puff of air. I flick on the lights and grab the rest of the muffins from the propane oven.

  “What did you wish for?” Aisley says.

  “I can’t say!” Nolan squeaks. “It won’t come true!”

  “Oh, come on,” she says. “You wished for a pony didn’t you?”

  “How did you know?” he snaps back.

  Aisley laughs and nudges his shoulder. “Little brother is catching on quick,” she says. “You better watch out Mom, the ladies might be banging down our door sooner rather than later.”

  I shake my head. “I really hope not,” I say. “I don’t want to have to whip out my kung-fu.”

  Nolan crams the muffin into his mouth making himself look like a chipmunk. Aisley and Tristan laugh as he makes cross-eyed faces in their direction with his puffed-out cheeks.

  I serve the muffins and sit at the table soaking it all in. I can’t shake what Marieska told me last night. It’s what stopped me from inviting Isha and her over for Nolan’s birthday.

  I’m still beyond angry at Isha for having me tortured when I wouldn’t conform. But on the other hand, Marieska made it sound like Isha had something much deeper than a friendship with me on his mind.

  I made it pretty clear that I’m still waiting for Xavier. Yes, at times it was easy to fall into Isha because Xavier wasn’t here, but I could never love anyone else again. I have a child with Xavier. If that isn’t proof of love, than I don’t know what is. Isha was dangerous at one time. He could go back to the way he was in a second if he

  wanted to. I can’t have someone like that in our lives. But Marieska seems certain that if Isha is with us, we’ll be safe. Safe from Gunnar and the Fort’s tortuous ways.

  I look at Aisley and Nolan laughing over nothing—if there’s one thing Isha and I have in common, it’s protecting our own. I should’ve been out in The Wild by now. Isha saved me from that—in an extremely obscure, fucked-up way.
/>   “Mom, you all right?” Aisley says grabbing my hand.

  “Yeah,” I respond plastering on a smile. “Lot’s of stuff on my mind.”

  Aisley nods her head and withdraws her hand. She knows better than to pry when I’m like this. She tugs on Nolan’s hand and nods her head towards the front door. Nolan runs over to me and kisses me on the cheek.

  “Thanks Mom,” he says. His breath reeks of blueberries. I look and see that half of them ended up on his face. “I love you.”

  “I love you too, Nolan,” I say kissing his cheek.

  “Thank you for having me over, Ms. Henders—Hayley,” Tristan says.

  “No trouble at all,” I say. “Make sure those two don’t break anything out there.”

  He smiles and nods before grabbing his jacket off the coat hanger. I lean my head back against the headrest of the chair.

  I don’t know how much more of this living in a bubble I can take. Something’s got to change, or I might go insane.

  November 28, 2013: 0017 Hours

  A knock at the door. My eyes snap open like window shutters in a cartoon. I spring out of bed grabbing the knife under my cot.

  I open the front door to find Isha in street clothes with a backpack.

  “Ish—”

  “Shhhh,” he says pressing a finger to my lips. “If I tell you something, can you promise to never speak of it again?”

  His eyes are urgent—scared even. I nod my head, and a smile spreads across his face. He takes a hold of my hand and pulls me from my apartment.

  The moon shines down on us like a spotlight. We run like shadows across the grounds to an area that I know is empty. He turns and looks at me with his ocean eyes and smiles again. I can’t stop myself from returning it even if I am angry with him.

  “What are you so happy about?” I say. Isha releases my hand and pulls a loose brick from a building to our right. A roll of papers sits inside covered in dirt. “What is that?”

  “Everything,” he says. “Everything about The Wild, about my family here, about everyone.”

  He hands me the roll. I unwind the rope and let the papers bend back.

  “I’ve been keeping these for when we leave here—”

  “You’re gonna leave!” Isha’s eyes widen, and he holds a finger to his lips. “Why?”

  “I’ve been here for nearly six years, Hayley,” he says. “Marieska,” he says. “I told the guards that she was my sister, but she isn’t.”

  I frown. Why would he lie about something like that?

  “Just like Aisley isn’t your daughter,” he says.

  How does he—I look up at him, feeling blood rush to my cheeks. How long has he known? I grab his arm and squeeze it until my hand throbs.

  “How do you know that?” I shout. Isha holds his free hand’s finger to his mouth. “How!”

  “The same way I know Xavier is the father to your child,” he says.

  My hand goes limp and slides off his button-down shirt. Xavier—I haven’t heard someone else say his name since I spoke with Marieska a month ago. “Do you know—”

  “Not much more than you I’m afraid.”

  My heart sinks. I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up. Anything with Xavier makes that empty feeling creep up and eat at the back of my ribcage.

  “Why are you telling me this?” I whisper, trying to hide my depression. “What are all these papers gonna do for me?”

  “It’s the government’s plans,” Isha says, his voice sharp with excitement. He grabs the most tattered from my hands. He lets one hand linger on mine—it sends chills up my arm. He looks down at me, and the corner of his mouth turns upward.

  I can feel my world spinning. I’m so unsure about everything—I’m about to crash and burn. Why is Isha so happy?

  He clears his throat and pulls the paper from my hands. “This right here is all the cities in the United States that have safe houses—”

  “So it is the entire country.” No where is safe. My family—Aisley, Nolan—they’re both in danger. I feel sick—I feel so sick.

  “Yes,” Isha responds. His hand reaches under my chin sending pins and needles off his fingertips and into my blood. “But it’s isolated.”

  Isolated? My head begins pounding—there’s too much information running through my brain.

  “Hayley,” Isha calls out. “We can escape north, to Canada.”

  When did him leaving become us leaving? I pull Isha’s hand away from my chin. “What do you mean ‘we?’” I say.

  “Don’t you want to leave here?” he says. “I thought—”

  “You thought that I would be able to just pick up and leave with both of my children?” I say. “Of course I want to leave, but I can’t do that without putting Nolan and Aisley at risk. And I’m done doing that.”

  He lets his hand fall to his side, and the excitement drains from his face. His eyebrows angle downward—he’s right back to the evil nurse I didn’t trust. “I thought we were a team, Hayley,” he says. “Marieska told me she explained everything to you.” His voice is cold now, like the sound of nails on a chalkboard that send a shiver up your spine.

  “You thought we were a team?” I say. “I had a team before all this—a family—and I lost my best friend coming to this hellhole.”

  “I’m trying to get you back to that—”

  “And Keturah?” I say. “What about her? Is that what you were trying to do for her too?”

  He doesn’t stop to quiet my voice, he just stands there. His mouth is a thin, straight line. I can barely see his ocean-blue eyes under the blackened skies above us.

  “I have a family to look out for, Isha. Nolan is five years old and Aisley is finally getting back to her normal self—”

  “You’re callingthisnormal!” he growls. “Hayley, you cannot call this a normal existence.”

  “I can’t risk their lives out there—”

  “You survived before!”

  “Because of Xavier!” I shout. “He took care of all of us and then some! I can’t be that for them. Not out there. I’m not like him.”

  “Come with me them!” he begs. “Come with Marieska and I! We can survive together!”

  “No,” I say. “I can’t. I’m a crummy shot, I don’t bring much to the table—”

  “I’ve been doing research, learning ways to survive out there—”

  “I don’t give a shit about your research, Isha!” I yell. I grab at the sides of my head and run my fingers through my hair. “Research doesn’t do shit when you have rapists and cannibals running wild. And when was the last time you actually were out there. It’s five years since we came here—longer for you two—and you’re reading a fucking book so you can survive? What chapter is the one where they tell you how to avoid someone eating you? Hunting you? Hmm!”

  “Fine,” he whispers. He snatches the papers from my hands and rolls them up. “I thought you were different, Hayley. I thought—”

  “What?” I growl.

  He looks up at me from the hole in the wall; I can see the hurt floating somewhere behind his glazed-over eyes. “I know you care for me. I can see it in your eyes,” he says. “You’re afraid that you’re falling for me—”

  “I’m not—”

  “You’re lying. You wouldn’t open up to someone like me if you didn’t have feelings at the very least.”

  “Please, Isha—”

  “I know what Xavier meant to you—”

  “Stop.”

  “I saw how hurt he was when he had to leave you here. How broken up you were over him—”

  “Shut up.” It comes out before I can stop it, but I’m still not sorry for it.

  “Admit it,” he says. I grind my teeth, forcing myself to keep quiet. “You can say whatever you want. When Nolan was born, I saw the way you casted side glances at me. It was like something out ofThe Great Gatsby.” Heat rises to my cheeks out of pure confusion. What he’s saying is true, but part of me hates him for sensing that. I clench my fists. “So
are you, Hayles?”

  I flinch at the nickname. “That’s not yours to call me,” I growl. “Xavier calls me that and Xaiver only—”

  “You mean called,” he says. “Xaviercalled you that.”

  We stand in silence, the moonlight casting a shadow on the ground that draws a line between me and him. My anger simmers down, and the familiar sting of depression slips in. “Isha, you’re my only friend here. If you leave, that’s on you,” I say. “I’ve got a family. Ihave to fit in here. I thought you would be the one person who would understand that.”

  He nods his head and walks away from me. I think I hear him say, “I’m sorry,” but it might just be my conscious yelling at me.

  December 4, 2017: Missing Persons

  A hand clamps over my mouth. My eyes fling open to my room filled with men from head-to-toe in black. I flail my arms smacking the side of one’s head. I reach for my knife under my bed—it’s gone.

  Arms pin me to the mattress. “No!” I yell. My mouth is covered by a calloused hand. I bite down hard until I hear whoever it is scream. I push myself up and sprint towards my doorway.

  I can feel the breath of the soldiers on my neck as I make my way towards Nolan and Aisley’s room. A sharp

  pain in the back of my head sends me tumbling over my feet. I crash into the table in the kitchen, knocking over several chairs in the process.

  Hands press down on my torso and legs. “Someone grab her arms,” someone whispers.

  “Ms. Henderson,” a voice says that sends a chill throughout my body. “We need to talk.”

  I throw an elbow behind me catching a soldier in the throat. I’m kicked by the rest of them until I can’t breathe. A hand clamps down over my mouth and nose. My vision tunnels until all I see is stars.