by Rachel West
CHAPTER 21
The next morning the Praetors return me to my cell before breakfast. “Tonight,” Jaxon whispers as they lead me away. I nod, showing I understand, and make no attempt at struggle as I am dragged back to the underground prison. My hands are once again cuffed behind my back. The scene from last night losing me any of the freedoms I’d gained.
I pace the confines of my cell over and over. Twelve steps on one side, eight steps on the other. My eyes are heavy and feel full of grit. My shoulder aches, a pulsing fire deep in the bone. I need rest -- I know I should sleep, but I am too high-strung; the tension, hope, fear, it’s all too much to allow for sleep. So I continue staring out the narrow bars that separate me from the rest of the world and I wait.
The day passes achingly slow. Red snores softly from his cell. I don’t understand how he can sleep in a situation like this. This morning we’d conversed quietly, telling silly, pointless stories of earlier times. Until one of the Praetors peeked through the door, threatening to beat us silent. The sight of the balding head and cruel eyes was enough to keep us both quiet.
As dark falls I see the feet of hundreds pass by my window. The prisoners, finished with their work for the day. I wonder if one of the pairs of small, bare feet I see belongs to my Annie.
Time eludes me. Long after the sky has faded to total darkness a guard comes in and drops a small offering of food into my cell. I have to eat like a dog off the floor. The food is dry and difficult to swallow. I manage only a few bites before pushing away with disgust. I pass the rest of the evening staring up at the ceiling. Strangely, one of the things I miss most from the city is the ability to look up and find the time floating in the sky, shimmering down from giant panels. The ever-present glow a comfort even on the most hopeless nights.
There is the sound of something scrambling outside the small window. I jump to my feet so quickly that stars form in my eyes and for a moment I think I will faint. “Jaxon?” I whisper. I lean up on my toes and press my face against the cold bars, looking out.
Jaxon’s face pops into sight right next to me. He laughs, his warm breath tickles my cheek. Startled, I pull back. “Heard you got yourself into a bit of a situation, thought I’d come help,” he teases. Despite his jokes he looks at me with a question in his eye – like he’s afraid I didn’t come out whole after last night’s ordeal. I remember the cruel grin on Botley’s face and I’m not quite certain myself but now is not the time so I stifle my doubt and offer a smile. I rest my head against the icy chill of the window’s bars; needing a moment to calm the pounding of my heart. Despite all the odds…
Suddenly I notice the smell of wet copper. "There's blood on your hands," I say to Jaxon.
Jaxon glances down to his hands where blood has just begun to dry in the beds of his nails. He self-consciously wipes his fingers against the grass but it does no good.
"What happened?"
"Nothing. I'm fine" he is quick to respond.
"Jaxon. What did you do?"
"Nothing you would not have done yourself." And there is guilt in his eyes but pride too. Whatever he's done he doesn't regret. "We need to hurry" he says before I can ask him anything further. "We don't have much time."
I let him change the subject because he’s right. We have no time for lingering. “Did you get my sister?” I ask.
“Not yet, but I know where she is,” he says. Relief flows through me. A weight I’ve been bearing for five years splinters and falls free. I wrap my fingers tight around the bars. My knuckles whiten but I use the pain to center myself. “Where is she, I need to see her,” then foolishly I call her name, “Annie!”
“Shh,” Jaxon jerks back from the sound of my yell. “She is asleep in the dormitories. We will have to get her afterwards. If the Praetors noticed her missing, you two would have been unable to escape.”
“Sorry,” I mumble.
“This might take some time,” Jaxon says. “If we get the bars out of the window can you fit through?”
I step back and examine the size of the window. “I can, but Red won’t be able to.”
“Alright,” Jaxon says like he expected the answer. “Can you reach your arms up here?”
The window is just above eye level. When I had been escorted back to my cell this morning the Praetors had once again cuffed my wrists behind my back. “No,” I tell him. “My arms…”
“Let me see. Turn around.” I face my back to him and feel his hands on my shoulder. He tugs lightly at my elbows, stretching my arms up. I bite my tongue through the pain but Jaxon must have heard something. “Are you alright?”
“Fine.”
I hear a light buzzing and suddenly my hands are free. They drop numbly to my side, pins and needles racing through my skin. I face back to Jaxon and see his arms hanging through the bars. His face is pressed so close against the metal the skin on his cheeks turns white. He skitters backwards, struggling to pull his arms back through the tight bars.
“There you go. Here, take this.” He slides something between the bars. It’s the small hand-held light-saw we used to cut through the sewer gates. “Use this to cut the lock off. Do the same on Red’s cell.”
“Okay,” I set to work. With a press of a button, the small blue light arches from one end of the metal pole to the other. Holding it steady is surprisingly hard. It may be faster to try and cut the lock directly, but the metal is thicker and sturdier than the rest. Instead I power through the bars on all sides of the door lock. When all is done, it still takes a moment to wiggle the lock out of place. I pull lightly on the door, and it slides open with only the slightest squeak
“Red,” I whisper when I approach his cell. Hearing his name causes him to twitch in his sleep but doesn’t wake. He’s curled up on the ground, long legs folded and tucked in, and arms chained behind his back “Red,” I say louder. My pulse races, knowing the Praetors are only a thin wall away. If they catch us now we’re dead. No hesitation.
Movement catches my eye; Red sits up and stares confused. “Evie? What the hell? How did you get out there?”
“We gotta get out of here,” I say urgently, “Hold on.” Now that I’ve had practice, cutting through the bars of his cell goes much faster. I clutch my fingers tight against the saw, wincing as I smack the outside against one of the bars. It only makes the smallest of sounds but I freeze, my hand hovering in place, as I wait to see if anyone noticed.
“Keep going,” Red says.
Moments later Red is as free as I. Red makes as if to go out the front door. “No!” I grab his arm and pull him back. “This way,” I drag him back into my cell.
Jaxon is gone. I stretch up and peer out through the bars, looking as far to the right and left as I am able. “Jaxon?” I say. There is a funny smell emanating from the window. Like burnt butter. My stomach churns and I step back.
“Hi,” Jaxon looks pops back into sight, crouched a few feet back from the window. “Hate the smell,” he half-explains, “sorry.”
“What is it?” Red asks suspiciously.
Jaxon holds up the tube of paste from earlier. “This can burn through almost anything except for metal,” he juggles the tube between two fingers and adds “as long as the surface is dry.”
“Well can you make it go any faster?” Red snaps. “That stink is going to draw the guards down on us.”
Jaxon narrows his eyes and all the humor drains from his face. Before he has the chance to anything I say “Red, he’s helping us. Just quit arguing for one minute. Please.”
“He’s the reason we’re here in the first place,” Red says stubbornly.
“He was saving us. If we tried to fight we would have died. Now look--“ I gesture to around us, “we’re about to be free. Besides, if you want to blame anyone for this, it’s me. We’re here to save my sister. “
I can tell Red wants to argue, but he’s not stupid, he can see I am right. That Jaxon is right. Instead he crosses his arms in a show of anger and his lips flatten into a scowl.
/> The awful smell thickens until I think I really am going to be sick. I hurry all the way to the entrance of the cell, the metal bars digging painfully into my back. A dark line appears in the stone around the window. It starts off like a coffee stain on paper, and slowly darkens until a charred line perfectly outlines the window.
“Shit,” Red says and runs up to the window. He presses his hands against the bar, holding everything in place. “This is going to fall when it’s done. Help me hold it up,” I am not sure if he is speaking to me or Jaxon, but Jaxon is the one who responds. His aristocratic hands wrap around the bars, the muscles in his arms tense and flex. For a moment, I have a completely inappropriate thought as I remember the feel of those arms wrapped around me. I push the image from my mind and hope no one can see my blush.
Jaxon relaxes his grip on the window’s bars and slowly lowers it down to Red. I step forward to help, afraid it may be too heavy for Red to handle alone. He shakes his head slightly. Pride, or knowledge that I’d fumble it anyway, I can’t tell. Despite his quivering arms I step back.
“Let’s go,” Red says after setting down the giant piece of wall. He cups his hands together so I can use them as a step to reach the window. I roll my eyes at him, after all the times he’s seen me scale buildings, he should realize I can handle this. He smiles though so I let him help me. Jaxon stops back, allowing me room to escape.
The night air is so crisp and chill it’s like jumping into an ice-bath. I inhale deeply, enjoying the way the cold air seems to spread through my entire body and fill me from within. I turn around to help Red out, who I know isn’t very adept at climbing, but Jaxon is already crouched on the ground, offering his hand. Once Red is safely out, I say to Jaxon, “Where’s my sister?”
“Come on, this way,” Jaxon takes the lead.
A glimmer seen from the corner of my eye catches my attention. “There are cameras,” I say nervously.
Jaxon flippantly responds, “Nothing we can do for it.” He darts from shadow to shadow, pausing every now and again to listen for approaching Praetors, but it appears no one has noticed our escape. At least not yet.
The arching wall slowly draws closer. A shiver of anticipation runs down my spine, erasing all the previous fear. Annie will be fourteen now. I’ve missed five years of her life. All lost because of the damn Millennials and their dogs. And here I am, working with one.
We approach a large structure - the dorms, or barracks more like. Small windows, too small for someone to fit through, dot the outside. “She’s in here. Second floor near the back,” Jaxon turns to me and shakes his head slowly, “It was nearly impossible to find her. She looks nothing like you.”
I shrug, not sure how to respond. The Annie I remember could be mistaken for my twin. Slightly waved dark brown hair, brown eyes nearly the same color. Pale skin and bony in all the wrong places.
“How are we going to get her out?”
“I cannot help,” Jaxon admits like he’s revealing some dark secret. “They are--“ he looks around helplessly, “They are all afraid of me. Like they think I will….” His shoulders hunch slightly.
Red snorts and I shoot him a fierce glare. “Are there a lot of guards?” I try to draw Jaxon’s attention back.
“No,” he shakes his head quickly, “A matron for each floor is all. The threat of the automatons beyond the wall is enough to keep anyone from escaping.”
“Alright, I’ll go in alone then.”
“No way!” Red says stepping forward, “you’ll get yourself killed. We’ll go together.”
“They are far more likely to notice you wondering around,” Jaxon says, “It will be safest if Evie goes alone. She will be fine,” he turns to me and repeats, “You will be fine.”
Red ignores Jaxon and instead pleads with me “Come on Evie. You shouldn’t go alone. You don’t know what’s in there. He--“ Red waves in Jaxon’s general direction, “--could be lying about no guards. Maybe it’s another trap.”
I sigh, tired of the arguments between Red and Jaxon. All they are doing is prolonging me from rescuing my sister. “I’m going alone,” I say firmly. I don’t bother explaining that it makes no sense for Jaxon to risk his life to help us escape, only to try to get us killed. Red is usually the logical one, usually the one I can count on to point out the flaws in a plan. His hatred of Jaxon, of the Millennials, is clouding his vision.
Red looks like he wants to argue further but he bites his tongue and nods once. “Be careful.”
“Got it,” I flash a thumbs up to lighten the mood. I jog over to the entrance of the building, looking back only once to see Red and Jaxon huddled together in the shadow of a tree. I rub my hands on my pants, suddenly nervous. Not so much about getting caught - I trust Jaxon that it won’t be dangerous. It’s just - I wonder if Annie will remember me. If she still thinks about me.
I creep up to the doorway and rest my hand lightly on the doorknob. It squeaks slightly as a twist it, but the sound is nearly unnoticeable. I push the door open, leaning with my head pressed against the wall to peer in the open crack.
The dormitories aren’t much different than the cells Red and I were kept in. Plaster and cement walls with no decoration. Bars covering all the windows. A small, empty foyer with a lonely wooden chair. The lights are built into the ceiling, bright and clinical like a doctor’s office.
I step fully into the room. A set of stairs leads off to the right. Annie should be on the second floor, according to Jaxon. The stairs are well built, no hint of creaks or groans, just the light patter of my feet as I slowly make my way up.
The sound of my own blood rushes through my ears. The thought that Annie is here, in the same building as me, after so long… I shake my head. No, right now, I need to focus. I can’t let my emotions distract me. I can’t give in to the urge to run and run until I find her. Instead I keep my back pressed to the wall and my footsteps light.
At the top of the stairs I hear the sounds that a hundred people sleeping make. Light snores and heavy breathing. Occasional moans and whimpers as nightmares overwhelm dreams. I inch forward, sliding my feet rather than picking them up. I am so close but the slightest mistake and I have nothing.
There is doorway at the top of the stairs, but no door. There are small marks on the side where hinges once rested. The room beyond seems to stretch endlessly. There has to be at least a hundred girls; their bodies nothing more than grey lumps on small cots all in a row.
I look around as I step further in - Jaxon said there would be one guard here -- a matron. I spy her room just to my left next to the door I came through. I step closer, to see if she is within. Her room is richly appointed - glaring next to the shamble I stand in. I spot the woman, although it’s impossible to see any of her features in the dark. Could it be Edna or Belle? Whoever she is, her chest moves up and down in steady rhythm.. As long as I am quiet, I won’t be caught.
I creep around the back wall towards the far end of the barracks room. As I pass each bed I look down at the sleeping form and search for my sister. The girls - -women really, all vary in age. From the very young to those so old I can’t imagine they’d be any use on a farm. But none of them are my sister. I’ve passed through almost the entire room when I spot a familiar head of hair so like my own.
Annie.
I stumble forward one step then stop myself. I have to be quiet. I have to be careful. I creep over to her bed and crouch down by her face. She looks different. Almost unrecognizable. Her eyes are rimmed by dark shadows that look sinister in the dusky room. Her lips are dry and cracked. Tears burn in my eyes. I think of Botley and the offer he made to Jaxon. What horrors has faced?
“Annie,” I whisper. Her eyes flutter open then widen with fear. “Shh,” I raise my finger to my lips.
“Evie?” She mumbles. She blinks again and smiles slightly before closing her eyes.
“Annie?” I shake her shoulder, “Annie wake up. What are you doing?”
Her eyes open again and she looks out fro
m under long lashes. “Are you real?” She says and I hear fear and confusion and hope. She sounds like the little girl I remember, not the shadow of one I see before me. “Are you really here?”
“I’m getting you out of here. Get up. We have to move quickly.”
Instead of rushing into action like I expected, Annie reaches out a thin, bony hand to touch my face. Her skin is dry and papery like an old woman’s. I grab her hand and hold it between mine. “Annie. I’m real. I promise. There isn’t time to explain though. We need to get out of here now. They’ll be looking for us soon.”
She nods slowly like she doesn’t quite understand my words. I pull the blanket off her and she shivers from the sudden chill. Her clothes are old and plain. A grey t-shirt and a pair of pants that she outgrew years ago. I grab her elbow and help her to her feet. Despite how frail she appears, I can feel a layer of muscle beneath my fingers. Years of hard labor.
“Let’s go,” I whisper.
She follows close behind me, even lighter on her feet than I. So quiet it feels like a ghost is following me. Every few seconds I have to turn around and check that she’s still with me. Prove to myself that she’s still real.
The journey out of the barracks feels like it takes a lifetime. How much longer will it be before the Praetors realize we’ve escaped from our cell? How long until they notice Annie has disappeared?
Once outside I look around for Red and Jaxon. They aren’t standing where I left them and for a moment panic creeps into my chest. I whip my head frantically around, trying to find them.
“Over here,” a voice calls from behind. I startle at the sudden sound.
“Come on Annie,” I hold her hand in mine and follow the sound of Red’s voice. Clouds whirl and fight overhead as a storm approaches. The wind blows a chill down my back like the fingers of a long-dead spirit. I shudder and hurry forward. The air is wet - in that not-quite-rain way, and leaves a thin layer of moisture over my skin that mixes with sweat.