by A. M. White
He wrapped the sleeves around his hands. Then he pushed them into the trap. He strained against the jagged, metal vice. The teeth opened with a grunt from him.
Blood spurted from the deep wound, it covered Timothy’s forearms. A dull cry escaped from the gag. The girl’s body went limp. Her ragged flesh was free.
In the background, Cara tried to comfort the girl’s brother. “Don’t worry, it’s probably best that she passed out; she won’t feel anything else.”
I slid the stick into place and quickly put the other in place to make an “X”. I used my weight against the wood, so that Timothy could let go. He dropped the jacket to guide her foot out of the trap.
“Now!” Timothy instructed.
Cara and the man pulled the girl free. Blood was everywhere. It dripped from Timothy’s hands; it pooled on the forest floor, and soaked into my clothes.
I dropped the sticks. The trap crunched as it closed on the wood.
Cara and I switched places. She was at the girl’s ankle. She applied pressure. I retrieved the ointment and wraps.
“Timothy, I am going to need a sewing kit. Please tell me you have one.” Cara was out of breath.
“I think I grabbed a kit from the table.” He began to dig in his pack. Sweat trickled down his cheeks. The blood on his hands smudged the zipper of his bag.
The man had the girl’s head in his lap. He cried over her and whispered to himself. The blood appeared to have drained from her face, it left a pasty complexion behind.
“Got it!” Timothy threw his bag out of the way.
He held a spool and needle in his hands. Quickly, he unraveled the thread and bit it free from the spool. I watched as he tried to push the end through the eye of the needle. He huffed in frustration, because his hands shook violently.
I gently put my hand on his forearm and took the supplies from him. My hands were surprisingly steady as I threaded the needle and held it out to Cara.
Timothy turned away with clenched fists. He growled. I’d never seen him unable to handle an emergency before.
Cara applied the ointment. Immediately, the wound sizzled.
“It’s cauterizing the vessels. I have it under control now. Go tend to him.” She gestured toward the young man.
I crawled over to the where he cradled his sister’s head. He looked up at me with his tear-filled, dark eyes. He needed me to reassure him.
I took a deep breath. His sister had lost a lot of blood. I wasn’t sure that anyone could survive that extensive blood loss.
“Please tell me she is going to be okay.” He begged me.
“She is in good hands. I trust Cara with my life. She has saved me more times than I can count.” I tried to console him.
He caressed the girl’s face.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Ryan.” He replied. “She is Sarah.”
I nodded in acknowledgement. “I’m Alex. That is Timothy. Cara is his sister.”
I could finally take a moment to process them. He appeared to be a couple of years older than me. His hair was a light brown and hung around shoulder length. He was shorter than Timothy, but husky.
Ryan and Sarah looked nothing alike. She had red, curly hair. Her nose was sprinkled with freckles. She was petite and very thin. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen.
“She’s not really my sister.” Ryan blinked back tears. “I couldn’t think of anything else to say when she came out and started yelling at me. I knew it looked like I was attacking her. I thought it would buy time for me to explain.”
“Yeah, you two don’t look much alike, but neither do Timothy and me.” Cara spoke while she applied the stitches.
“I’m sorry.” Ryan seemed genuine.
“We will understand this one time. Don’t ever lie to us again.” Cara told him.
Ryan locked eyes with me.
“She means it.” I warned him.
He lowered his eyes.
I stood and wiped my hands on my pants. Timothy leaned against a tree with his back to us. I walked up behind him.
“It’s okay.” I whispered gently. “Everyone struggles from time to time.” I put my hand on his shoulder.
He hung his head. “Not me, I’m supposed to be the strong one.”
I slid my arm around his waist and stepped beside him so that I could see his profile. His eyes were closed.
“There was so much blood.” I offered him an excuse.
“For a split second, I imagined it could have been you or Cara in that trap. I lost it.” He looked so ashamed.
“You did what was needed. You got her free.” I slid my arms around his midsection.
“You didn’t have an episode during the stress.” Timothy changed the subject.
I looked down at my feet. I hadn’t. Maybe that meant it had worn off?
He laced his fingers into mine and pulled me into him. I held onto him.
I wasn’t sure how to take Timothy’s weakness. For now, I enjoyed being his pillar of strength. It was a new role for me.
“Come on guys!” Cara yelled.
Timothy pushed me away so he could look in my eyes.
“I am glad you wouldn’t listen to me and came along.” He kissed me lightly on the lips.
I smiled. “Me too.”
Chapter Eleven
“We are heading to a mill down by the river. You can come tonight; if you’d like?” I asked Ryan.
“I will do whatever is best for Sarah.” Ryan concluded with his worried black eyes.
“Do you have any weapons?” Timothy asked.
“No.” Ryan answered with conviction.
“If we find out you have lied about that; we will leave you immediately.” Cara gave him an angry stare.
He nodded.
Timothy scooped Sarah up into his arms. She was so tiny; I was sure Timothy could handle her with ease. I took the extra pack to help him anyway. We began to walk toward the mill.
We found out that Ryan and Sarah had no supplies. They had escaped on a whim, when the opportunity arose. Apparently, many of the younger ranks opposed the ideologies that were indoctrinated. Ryan told us that several escapes had occurred recently.
Cara walked with Ryan and began to question him about their escape. I knew she wouldn’t tell him about me. Cara was careful to not offer any information to people in general.
“Where did you get the boots?” Cara prodded.
Ryan looked down. “I made them. I have seen people come to the surface. They always wear them when they come above. I asked someone what they did to make them? Then all I had to do was steal some metal and rubber cement. Mine aren’t quite as fancy as yours, but they do the trick.”
Timothy and I kept quiet as we walked. That way we could keep one ear on their conversation and another on the woods.
Sarah had been a messenger. The job suited her build. Her tiny body moved easily though the tunnels and any tight spots she encountered.
She was older than I first thought. Sarah was our age. Her petite build and young face had deceived me.
Ryan worked as a grunt. He moved boulders and made repairs to the tunnels. He explained that had made him strong, but he lacked stamina.
Sarah came to the nearby colony, where Ryan worked, often on her route. That was where the two met. They had been assigned the same table for meals. After a few trips, the two realized that they had some of the same opinions about the direction the colonies had taken.
A couple of days ago, Sarah ran through a tunnel where Ryan was ordered to replace a beam. She carried a message. The two found themselves alone. An exit wasn’t far and they took the opportunity. They slipped from the colony without detection.
“It seems odd that there is known unrest and an exit would be left unguarded.” Cara criticized the story.
“It was an old air vent. I uncovered it when I made a repair last month. I couldn’t bring myself to leave alone. I had no idea what lay on the other side of that vent. When Sarah agreed t
o would go with me, it gave me the courage to try.” Ryan’s voice became shaky with emotion.
“Do you think they found the vent after you left?” Cara asked.
I knew that she asked in case the vent could be our ticket inside. It would be nice to find a way inside, instead of the front door.
“I tried to cover the inside cap with mud.” He shrugged. “But I don’t know.”
I listened carefully. Every bit of information could make the difference between the failure and success of the mission. We continued forward.
“Tell me about the reason you left.” Cara shifted gears.
“Lately, there was a new propaganda being forced upon us. You know they always pushed the righteous cause of our kind; reclaim the Earth to save it?” He waited for Cara’s acknowledgement before he went on. She lifted her face to his.
“Then we were fed through the daily meetings that the surface dwellers were savages. That was how they gained the approval of the masses for the Roars. Do you remember that?” Ryan paused in step and in conversation.
I turned to look back at him.
“I remember.” Cara confirmed. “Alex knows about the props and that we were convinced that we were doing the right thing. She doesn’t hold that against us.”
“Okay, I just didn’t know how much she knew. Please don’t take offense.” He was relieved.
“I came to peace with that a while ago. Cara and Timothy have shown me their loyalty a million times over. I hope you will show me that you are here, because you know the killing of innocent people is wrong, too.” I explained my ability to get past the sordid details.
“That was when I first felt the guilt. We were shown victory props. They never showed us the dead, but seeing abandoned homes and roads made me realize the sheer number.” He sighed. “Recently, the shift has been to gain the popularity of the new energy source. Do you know what they plan on doing?”
“We have heard rumors. They are going to use people?” Cara played ignorant.
“I was disgusted. They are going to use the dead as fuel. The living people are going to be used as a mechanical energy source. You can’t tell me that is how a civilized society functions.” Ryan was exasperated.
“I can’t even imagine.” I added truthfully and shook my head in dismay.
I wanted to keep up the guise that we knew very little about the plans underground. It was important until we knew if we could trust these people.
That part of Timothy had rubbed off on me. It was a good idea to be leery of strangers. In this new world, many of the people we met had their own agenda; self-preservation reigned.
“Obviously, you were in medicine.” Ryan said to Cara.
She replied with a nod.
“What about him?” He asked and pointed to Timothy.
“He served on a couple levels. He was mainly a runner.” Cara replied carefully.
“So, he has strength and athleticism?” Ryan sounded a little jealous.
“Yes,” Timothy chimed in. “They used me in emergency situations.”
Cara laughed. “You should see him run.”
I looked back to see Ryan smile at Cara.
“I always wished I could do that.” He admitted.
The light grew dim. The breeze became cooler as the shadows retreated to their trees.
“We aren’t too far.” Timothy stopped to shift Sarah in his arms. She groaned lightly. I pulled the hair from her face.
Ryan jogged to catch up with Timothy. She was still unconscious, but color had returned to her face.
I smiled at him. “That’s a good sign.”
“I really hope so.” Ryan pursed his lips. “Sarah, I’m right here.” He squeezed her hand. He waited for some acknowledgment from her. Nothing happened, so he let go of her and breathed in deeply.
We began to walk again.
Soon, Timothy veered off the path. This meant the mill was just ahead. We followed him into a thicker area of trees. He carefully laid Sarah on a bed of leaves. The rest of us huddled around for Timothy’s instructions.
I looked at each person. In near darkness, the blood stains on our clothes appeared to be smudges of oil.
Cara looked the worst. Her pants were black from the pools of blood she knelt in while she worked on Sarah. Timothy’s arms looked like he had been elbow deep in blood. His shirt was adorned with hand prints from his attempts to wipe his hands clean. My pants were crusted at the knees; it marked me as present during the crisis.
For the first time, the air seemed stagnant. The smell of dried blood filled my nostrils. I gagged on the iron vapors.
Timothy gave me a sideways glance.
“I’m okay.” I whispered.
“The mill is just beyond the next hill. It would be smart to leave a couple of us to check it out first. There is a chance that others may be using it.” Timothy explained.
“I can go.” Ryan offered.
“I think you should stay with Sarah. One of us will stay and one of us will go with Timothy.” She nudged me.
“Alex, come with me. Cara, stay here and keep an ear out.” He pulled his gun from the back of his pants and switched the safety off. I followed his lead.
“One of those would be handy.” Cara grumbled.
“I have one for you too, little sis.” Timothy teased her.
She stuck her tongue out at him. He pulled an extra from his pack, checked the magazine, and handed it to her. She switched off the safety.
“Try not to use it. It would be best not to draw attention. I’m going to take a knife, so that we can be as quiet as possible. If you hear gunshots, hide the best you can. We will find you.” He stuffed a sheathed hunting knife into his pants.
Ryan sat beside Sarah on the ground.
“Listen,” Timothy addressed Ryan. “I want to trust you, so don’t do anything stupid. If you hurt my sister, I will hunt you down and kill you.”
“There isn’t a bone in my body that doubts it.” Ryan responded.
“Geez, Timothy, I got this.” Cara sneered at him.
Timothy ignored her. “Ready?”
“Let’s do this.” I tried to sound confident.
He led the way.
Chapter Twelve
Timothy and I crept along the trees. Once the mill was in sight, we paused to listen. If people were inside, they might give themselves away. There might even be a fire, so I smelled the night air deeply. I only smelled the thickness of the dark sky mixed with coming rain.
The mill was ominous in the darkness. It reminded me of the haunted places I used to see on television. The cobblestone and worn down planks were overgrown with vines. The place gave me the chills.
Nothing alerted that the mill had inhabits. Timothy waved me close. He used hand gestures to tell me that we were going to do a sweep of the perimeter.
I crouched low to follow Timothy through vines. We crept around a corner of the building. A breeze rustled the trees, which caused the old structure to creak. We used the noise as cover and sprinted along the backside.
A board was rotted out and hung from its rusty nails. Timothy ducked under the hole and squatted. I joined him. He put his finger over his lips.
The inside was dark, but that didn’t mean anything. I figured we would sleep without a fire to stay hidden. Anyone with brains would do the same.
When the wind died down, we listened intently for movement.
“Who-who.” An owl cried.
I flinched at the sound and brushed against the side of the mill. Immediately, Timothy grabbed my arm. I closed my eyes. I cursed myself for being so jumpy.
From inside the depths of the mill, something stirred. My eyes widened and I searched Timothy’s face for recognition. He heard it, too. Carefully, he picked up a stick and threw it further down the wall, purposely aimed to scrape the side.
Then the unmistakable sound of whispers echoed within. A shuffle against floorboards followed.
I raised my eyebrows at Timothy to question our next move
. He shook his head and took my hand to lead me to a nearby tree.
Timothy whispered into my ear. “Sarah shouldn’t stay out in the open tonight. Follow my lead.”
I nodded in response. My gun felt heavy in my hands. I hoped we wouldn’t have to hurt anyone to establish cover for the night.
The breeze started up again. The air smelled of rain. Timothy was right; Sarah needed shelter.
We padded our way through the brush to the next corner. Fortunately, the trees that swayed and masked the noise of our steps.
Timothy held his gun vertically as he peeked around the side. He twisted to face me, held up his hand, pointed to his ear, then around the corner. When we heard the door open, he would leave me to confront whatever came.
Thunder rolled through the forest. The rain was on its way.
The door screeched open. Timothy bolted from his spot. I heard a collision and then footsteps led away. It could have been mistaken as a strong gust of wind.
I peered around the corner. No one was there. I leaned against the wall, stricken with fear. My whole body quivered. I didn’t expect to be left alone. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I slid down the side of mill and waited. I pushed my hands between my knees to stop the trembling. I promised myself to wait five minutes and then return to the others. I began to count.
I reached one hundred fifty-seven before a hushed voice resonated from the mill. “Jason, are you there?”
I rose to my feet. The whine of planks came closer from inside. I raised the gun. I peered around the corner.
A distant flash of lightning brightened the sky.
The wooden door squeaked open.
“Jason?” This time I could tell that the voice belonged to a boy. His voice hadn’t fully changed yet. “Jason?”
The boy stepped out into the open. I took a large stride from my hiding spot to meet him.
“Don’t move.” I had the gun pointed at him.
The boy’s eyes widened in fear and he took a step backward. He had to be no more than 15 years old. Still, I had to treat him as dangerous, until he proved otherwise. He might be armed.
“I said, don’t move. Is there anyone else in there?” I gestured to the door.