Waterproof

by Garr, Amber

  “She has to tell us,” Sasha whispered.

  Trevor stepped closer to Rachael, who miraculously held on to consciousness. She coughed and spit blood out of her mouth, but still managed a look of arrogance.

  “I don’t think she can talk,” Trevor said. He bent down to observe better.

  “She has to tell us,” Sasha said again, although the fight no longer tainted her words. Jackson dropped his arms and stepped away to grab his crossbow. Sasha collapsed to the ground on her knees, breathing deeply in an attempt to regain her composure.

  “Rachael?” Trevor cooed. “Do you know which way they went?”

  I doubted his kindness would get us very far.

  “Fuck you,” Rachael spat and kicked at him.

  I hated being right all of the time. Stepping forward, I bent down and pulled our only chance at finding our friends up off the ground. Rachael continued to wear a smirk reserved only for mercenaries and crazy people.

  “You’re kind of cute,” she said as my arm brushed lightly across her breasts.

  I slammed her hard against the nearest tree, pushing my face as close to hers as I could stomach. “Tell us.”

  “It’s too bad you’re deserter scum. The girls would have liked you. You could’ve lived like a king.” Rachael continued to smile and push herself up against me in a way that reeked of insanity.

  I didn’t know what kind of “training” the mercenaries received but I guessed brainwashing might be a part of the ritual.

  “Your girlfriend’s already dead. Sucked dry by now, I’m sure.”

  “What?” I asked, not sure if Sasha had damaged Rachael’s skull during the one-sided boxing match.

  She made a sucking sound with her mouth. “Young and feisty. They’re always the best.”

  I must have loosened my grip in the confusion, because the next thing I knew, a piercing wave of pain shot through my face when Rachael’s head smashed into my nose. I jumped away, momentarily stunned by the sheer agony and thick, liquid now running down the back of my throat.

  “Pinch it,” Trevor said, shoving something into my hand.

  I put the piece of cloth over my nose and took a few seconds to orient myself again. As soon as my vision cleared, I looked at Rachael and her egotistical smirk…and lost control.

  In two steps I reached her face and felt my fist crack into her cheek. Her head snapped back and to the right seconds before she fell to the ground. My knuckles hurt, my nose was broken, and I’d just knocked out the one person who could keep us moving forward.

  Shaking out my hand, I stepped back and gently wiped the blood off my chin. “I’m sorry,” I said to whoever wanted to listen. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

  “No, I’m sorry,” Sasha said. She hadn’t moved from her knees, but her skin finally started to look its normal, sickly pale again.

  “She wasn’t gonna tell you nothing anyway,” a new voice chimed in behind us.

  “Shit,” Jackson cursed as he turned around and pointed the crossbow at our intruder.

  Sasha jumped to her feet, gun already outstretched and aimed. “Don’t move!”

  A branch cracked to my side and I instinctively reached for my knife. Two men emerged from behind the boulder in front of our vehicle, guns raised and pointed at Trevor and me.

  “I’ve got two over here,” I yelled.

  “Who are you?” Sasha asked.

  “We don’t want no trouble,” the man said, hands held out to his sides in surrender. The loosely hanging fishing vest looked worn and tired, and the tan shirt and pans hid years of caked on dirt. His short hair had been cut by a razor and the fresh scar across his left cheek appeared infected.

  “Don’t move! Who are you?” Sasha demanded, all earlier signs of weakness gone.

  He stepped closer, forcing Sasha and Jackson to lift their weapons higher. The man stopped moving and lowered his arms slightly. “My name’s Lew. And that girl behind you ain’t gonna tell you nothing.”

  “Why?” I asked. Watching the two on my flank, I spared a quick glance at Lew. “How do you know that?” My heart hammered in my chest, but I tried to speak calmly. I didn’t know if I could handle another fight to the death right now.

  “May I?” Lew asked Sasha, jerking his head behind him. “I’ll show you why.”

  Sasha gave him a quick nod but didn’t lower her gun. Lew motioned someone forward with his hand. Trevor took that chance to shuffle a few steps away and grab something out of our vehicle in front of him. The distinct sound of metal scraping metal nearly knocked me to the ground in grief. He had Vee’s sword.

  “Where did you get that?” I whispered to him, but he didn’t have a chance to answer.

  “Gentlemen, lady, this is why I know she ain’t gonna talk.”

  Lew picked some items out of a bag and tossed them in our direction. A severed arm, a hand, and a scalp landed in front of us with three appalling thuds. The arm rolled back several inches before coming to a stop. We all looked up at Lew at the same time.

  “He was one of ‘em,” he answered. “Refused to tell us where they took them, even as we cut pieces off.” He lifted a medium sized duffel bag in the air, the bottom dripping with something dark. No human could have fit inside.

  Well no human still in one piece.

  “They’d rather die,” Lew spit on the ground and handed the bag back to his companion. “She ain’t gonna tell you where but we think we know why.”

  None of us spoke. I don’t think we knew what to say. Rachael stirred at my feet and I had a sudden urge to protect her from these new deserters. Not out of fear for her life, but fear we’d never find our friends.

  “Why what?” Sasha finally asked.

  Lew stepped forward again and Sasha slowly lowered her gun. Jackson kept the crossbow at full attention while the two men to my side moved closer to Lew.

  “Why they’re taking them,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “To serve their time in the factories,” Sasha stated. “We know why they’ve been collected.”

  Lew shook his head and looked at her in pity. “How many come back?”

  “I don’t know,” she snapped, fully aware of the answer. “It doesn’t matter. Once we find the place, we can get our friends and run away again.”

  Lew may not have noticed, but I heard the tears in her shaking voice. Sasha was on the verge of another breakdown.

  “How many they’d take of yours?” Lew asked. His group had gathered behind him now allowing me to count four in total. Well four plus a body in the bag.

  “Three,” Jackson said when it was obvious Sasha wouldn’t, or couldn’t, answer.

  Lew dropped his head. “They got three of ours, too.” He pointed toward a man and woman standing on his right. “Harvey’s brother and Annie’s cousin.” Then he looked back at us with years of pain scorching his broken face. “And my wife.”

  Sasha sucked in a breath and my heart ached for all of us. She nodded without offering up any more information about our missing friends.

  “How’d you find us?” Trevor asked. A smart question for once.

  “Well, Number zero-five-zero blah, blah, blah over there,” he gestured to the body parts lying by our feet, “left quite a trail for us.”

  We looked at Lew in confusion again and he snorted in understanding.

  “He thought he’d make it back with one leg.”

  “You let him leave?” Trevor asked, sounding not nearly as disgusted as I would have expected.

  “We let him think he could leave. The tire tracks weren’t too far away, and once we found the trail it was easy to follow.”

  “And that led you here?” Sasha asked.

  “Well, down over that hill a bit. But when we heard all the yellin’ up here…” he shrugged. “We thought maybe we’d find us another one.”

  “Another what?” Trevor asked.

  “Another mercenary. They’re crawling through these parts.”

  I spared a glance at Sasha who met my eye
s. We’d walked directly into a trap and Carrie, Vee, Hunter, and Max might pay the ultimate price for our carelessness.

  “You guys got any water?” Lew asked. “We can trade you for some meat.”

  My eyes shifted to the severed hand, the arm, and the bloody scalp as I tried to stop my thoughts from going somewhere very dark. Jackson shuffled by my side, crossbow coming back up into position.

  “We don’t have much,” Sasha said. She walked to the back of our vehicle and dug through her bag with one hand. The other never left the gun. “Here.”

  She threw a bottle to Lew who snatched it out of mid air. He unscrewed the lid and proceeded to pour a little in everyone’s mouth before taking a sip himself. As the oldest of the group, at least as far as I could tell, he clearly felt responsible.

  When they finished half the bottle, Lew tossed it back to Sasha. “Thank you.” Wiping his mouth and smacking his lips, he tilted his head up to the sky. The female in the group had dampened the bottom part of her shirt, and she started to wipe some of the grime off the faces of the other two men.

  “Why don’t they come back?” Trevor asked, barely audible enough for me to hear.

  Lew took in a deep breath and lowered his eyes to meet Trevor’s. “Because there’s nothing left of them to come back.”

  I swallowed hard and gripped my knife until my nails dug into my palm. Even though I knew what might happen when deserters were collected, I didn’t want to admit this is what would happen to Vee.

  “Rachael said they’ll suck the life out of them,” I added. “Do you know what she means?”

  “Rachael?” Lew asked with amusement. “You got a name out of her?” He huffed. “Well, good for you, Casanova.” Running his hand over his chin he shook his head.

  “Do you know what she means?” I asked a little more forcefully, annoyed with the comment.

  “Yeah, I think so.” Lew grew very quiet.

  “And…” I prodded.

  “They ain’t going there to work in factories that produce water. They’re going there to be the water.”

  Our blank faces must have encouraged him to continue.

  “The government is harvesting water from them. Using the draft and the deserters to keep the elite alive.” He looked at us and threw up his hands in frustration. “Blood! They’re harvesting our blood!”

  TWELVE

  Vivienne

  Hunter shoved another bite of pancake into his mouth, ignoring the fact it was three times too large. “Mmm, Vee, this is the most amazing thing I’ve ever tasted.”

  “What about the waffle, or the donut, or the banana? You said they were all the most amazing foods ever.”

  “Yeah, but I hadn’t tried the chocolate chip pancakes yet.” Hunter shoved another chunk in his mouth before swallowing completely.

  “You’re going to choke,” I said with a smile. At least his wounded face didn’t slow him down. He’d been eating for almost an hour straight. After a generous helping of scrambled eggs and crisp bacon, I couldn’t eat another bite. But the ever-growing boy had no problem finding a place to store the food.

  I looked around the large cafeteria. The place was full of at least a hundred deserters, all scarfing down food like it would disappear at any minute. The place smelled like damp concrete, mixed with iron and eggs. Metal picnic tables had been lined up in three rows, each fitting several people even though the crowd tended to stay in small groups. Hunter and I sat alone at the only table where a tiny ray of sunlight penetrated through from a skylight in the ceiling. After being inside for a day, I felt the need for fresh air.

  “You gonna eat that?” he asked, pointing to a half piece of bacon left on my plate.

  “Nope.”

  He reached across the table and rubbed his prize in the puddle of maple syrup now smothering his plate. Bacon, eggs, real food. I couldn’t shake the feeling this was too good to be true. In two days, we’d been abducted by the government, given fresh clothes, showered in hot water, slept in a real bed, and now ate a breakfast fit for a king. Weren’t we at the factory? Weren’t we supposed to be working as slaves?

  As if on cue, the large double doors at the far end of the room slid open with a heavy, grinding sound. The conversations stopped as everyone waited to see what our next surprise would be. Hunter and I were too far away to see the mercenaries enter, but the gasps and sudden atmosphere of dread confirmed my suspicions.

  Time to see what this place was really about.

  “Line up along the wall,” one of them commanded.

  Every cell in me wanted to rebel against the order and it seemed others had the same thoughts as well. We were all used to defying the government. Why would we want to start obeying now?

  “Now!”

  Three more mercenaries stepped through the door and raised their guns. People started to move, slowly at first, until the gun made contact with body parts. Several got shoved in the back while some needed a little extra coaxing by a barrel to the head.

  I grabbed Hunter’s shoulder and directed him to the side wall, leaving my sunlight behind and worrying it would be the last time I got to see it. In no time at all, the deserters stood in a line, waiting for their punishment. The gunman had positioned themselves throughout the room, being sure to divvy up the shots should someone try to make a break for it.

  A clicking sound drew my attention back to the door. A small woman, no more than five feet tall, wearing a tight fitting black uniform with perfectly polished boots, walked briskly through the door. The clipboard in her hand and dark framed glasses made her look more like a librarian than the type of official who could fill the room with her presence, as she was doing now.

  She made a quick show of checking her papers before strutting over to the line of deserters. She started on the other end, so I couldn’t see what was happening, but when she began pulling the kids and younger teenagers out of the line, panic shot through me.

  As she reached my side, I watched her check off one last box before grabbing Hunter by the shoulder and yanking him forward. He stumbled out of her grip and flashed a fearful look in my direction.

  “Where are you taking him?” I asked. Could I get the jump on her or would there be a bullet in my brain before I took the first step?

  “Relax,” she said in a way that made her strangely more relatable. “He’s not old enough for the draft.”

  One of the guards grabbed Hunter and pushed him to the center of the room where five other kids waited. I saw the look of defiance pass over his face and hoped he’d keep it under control. Thankfully, he said nothing and after yanking his arm of the man’s grasp, he walked freely to join the rest of the group.

  “So where are you taking them?” I asked. Didn’t anyone else care? Once again, I seemed to be the one elected to speak for us all. Or maybe that’s just the way I was.

  “To school,” she said with a shrug.

  “School?” Hunter asked, yelling loud enough for it to echo throughout the metal room.

  “For how long?” I asked again, but the woman didn’t answer. Instead she turned on her heel and walked out of the room, expecting the kids to follow.

  Hunter didn’t move at first so when he looked at me, I mouthed It’ll be okay to him. The panic in his eyes did something unexpected to my gut. Not once in my life had I ever called myself maternal, but at this moment, I felt like my child had been ripped from me.

  Tears fell on my cheeks and I brushed them away quickly. Smiling at Hunter, I nodded and tried to show him that everything was fine. I saw him swallow then brush his hair back from his eyes and stand with confidence. It reminded me of the day we found him in the forest, alone and orphaned, he stood above his mother’s body, protecting her even after death. He had a strength not many could retain in our world and Zach and I had helped him harness that energy into survival.

  We’d taught him well.

  The kids shuffled out behind their new instructor, with Hunter glancing back one last time before they rounded the
corner and disappeared from sight. A moment later, my breath caught when I noticed someone new walking into the room. I hated myself for having that reaction, and hoped he hadn’t noticed.

  “Good morning. I expect you’ve all been treated well?” Riley asked, taking a moment to look at everyone standing in line. When he got to me, his eyes lingered a little too long for my liking. Yet I refused to look away.

  “I imagine you would like to know what’s going to happen now,” he continued, still staring at me. Finally breaking my gaze he said, “Since you all ignored your government mandated draft duties, you’ve been assigned to decontamination.” Riley paced back and forth in the middle of the room like a drill sergeant.

  “Sir?” a fragile female voice called out, obviously unsure if speaking was prohibited. “What’s decontamination?”

  Riley stopped moving and focused on the woman. The smile that spread across his face was so out of place yet oddly comforting. Stepping forward again he addressed us all.

  “Exactly what it sounds like. The bottles don’t clean themselves,” he chuckled and a few from the crowd joined him. A mercenary joking with the deserters - not something I’d ever expected to see. Especially in a factory.

  “Now, I expect you all to follow three basic rules. One, listen to the soldiers. They are not here to harm you but are expected to be mindful. They will only use force as a last resort.”

  I had serious doubts about that after what I saw yesterday. Gunning down a woman from a glorified tree stand looked like unnecessary force to me.

  “Two,” Riley looked at me, “listen to your shift supervisor. If you have questions, ask. But be respectful. Attitudes are not tolerated.”

  I narrowed my eyes at the insinuation and I swear I saw a slight smirk pull at the corner of his mouth.

  “And finally, pace yourself. You each have a minimum of two years to serve so accept it. Do your time, then you can go home.”

  The temperature in the room dropped as every single one of us tensed at his words. No one came home after being collected. Did he really expect us to believe him? As if understanding the unspoken questions, he continued.