“I see, well, at least it wasn’t zero percent chance, and we have information that seems to contradict common knowledge regarding where we’re headed.” His announcement was grim. “Just out of curiosity, what were the percentages for the other two options?”
“Returning to the environmentally sustainable cities forecasted 10.67% chance of survival, weighted heavily by the factor of Blossom not being known to the authorities and remaining in the Burn Zone 14.92% based on Cedar’s proven ability to survive and that the Sand Walkers are now looking for us.”
“Great!” said Blossom, eyes rolling. “We’re actually going to die out here. That sucks.”
“Pip, can you project the likelihood of survival if Pei exists?” asked Cedar. I smiled at her, admiring her train of thought and cool head. We had to believe in something, to get us through the next few days and the last thing I needed was two depressed teenagers making a bad situation worse.
“Probability increases to over fifty percent; should Pei exist and have a sustainable environment.”
“Well, I like those odds!” exclaimed Jake, giving Blossom a small punch in the shoulder. They grinned at each other and the similarity struck me again. They really could have been siblings, if I hadn’t known better.
It didn’t take us long to gather up our hidden supplies and cargo and repack the truck. We planned to head out at the first sign of day break, so we settled in early, but I don’t think any of us fell asleep easily.
I was dozing, when the rustle of makeshift bedding brought me awake. I sat up a little and could see Blossom creeping across the tent floor.
“Everything okay?” I whispered.
“Yeah, just need to pee,” she whispered back slowly opening the tent flap.
“Want me to come with you?” It was a stupid question, but I didn’t like letting her go out alone. She shook her head and I thought I caught the tinge of pink cheeks in the glow of the moon that had just sunk into view. “Don’t go too far and don’t worry about covering it up, we’re leaving tomorrow, so it won’t really matter. And leave the tent flap open.”
“Okay, I’ll be right back.” With that, she was gone, with Pipkin hovering after her. I waited, trying not to doze off, but with the robot with her, I wasn’t inclined to worry overmuch, until I heard what sounded like a muffled gun shot and the buzz of a laser.
I bolted out of bed and sprinted towards the entrance, ducking to get out of the small space we’d left open. The moon provided a good amount of light, but I couldn’t see Blossom anywhere. I was torn between calling out her name and skulking around the larger rocks, not giving myself away. I nearly jumped out of my skin when something touched my bare foot.
“Owner Dax!” I swallowed my heart and looked down at Pipkin. He had one ear missing and was hopping madly around me. “The Sand Walkers, they have Family Member Blossom. I have failed you.”
“What happened to your ear?” Okay, in hindsight, it probably wasn’t the most pressing question, but I think shock was setting in and it was the only thing I could think of saying.
“It was a bullet, but that is not important. I cannot fly after her without both ears. We must wake the others and follow.” He was already hopping away by the time his statement had registered in my fuzzy brain. I took a moment to look around and I could see the spot, right outside the entrance, where Blossom had relieved herself. It was nothing more than a slightly darker stain in the monochromatic moon light. I could also make out signs of a struggle and several footprints leading away in to the night, the wind slowly filling in the tread marks, covering up any chance of us tracking down the Sand Walkers.
I was startled out of my investigation by the vehicle bursting through the camouflage of rocks and sand that we’d put at the entrance of the cave. I could see the tent, crammed haphazardly into the back and the anxious face of Jake pressed to the back passenger window. His expression made me want to bash my head in frustration at my own carelessness. I knew Cedar’s stricken look mirrored my own, as we tried hopelessly to read the myriad of gouges tracked in the sand. It was impossible to tell if Blossom was alive or not, but if she hadn’t survived the attack, I assumed they would have left the body. I said as much and was met with hope filled nods. The glint of an earring was the only proof that Blossom had been there and the endless wind was filling in the trail where she had been taken.
Cedar clutched the earring to her chest; tears flowed down her cheeks and quickly evaporated in the arid wind. I could actually make out the crystallized lines of salt glistening in the moonlight. Cedar and Jake clambered back into the car and I jumped in to the driver’s seat and peeled off in the direction of the foot prints. If we could move quickly enough, we might be able to follow their trail. What we’d do once we found them was a completely different matter.
“We can’t let those animals have her,” growled Cedar, “we…she…” and with that, the relentlessly stable Cedar broke, collapsing against the passenger seat. I was practically frozen with shock as her body trembled beside me as she tried to muffle the sobs that heaved her shoulders and tore at her throat for release.
I had thought that I’d known her so well, but even she had a breaking point and the fact of it scared me. It was Jake that comforted her, wrapping his gangly young arms around her from the back seat. She melted into his embrace and let the sobs come as they would. I could feel the rage and frustration grow in my chest and was overwhelmed by the urge to hit something, but a broken hand wouldn’t help matters, so I swallowed my anger and kept my eye on the fading trail and concentrated on what had to be done. We needed to get Blossom back. Cedar didn’t look like she’d be much help, not that I could blame her and with Pipkin down for the count, I guessed it was up to me to hatch up some sort of strategy.
Seriously, who was I kidding? What could a washed up history teacher do? Bore them to death with a lecture? I put a hand on Cedar’s shoulder, more in an attempt to do something than consciously giving comfort, but she reached up and grabbed my hand like a life line. She ground my finger joints together in a desperate bid to gather herself.
In that moment, I remembered a conversation between Jake and me, way back at the beginning of the year. He’d just returned from a meeting with his guidance counsellor and had come out dejected and mildly pissed off.
“Dax, there has to be more.” His voice held a sharp longing heavily laced with doubt.
“More what?” I’d asked distractedly. I’d just received a disappointing email from the professor overseeing my PhD dissertation.
“More to life,” he huffed, dropping in to the desk nearest my own. I looked up and caught a look of raw yearning in his eyes and waited quietly, giving him my full attention finally. I cocked an encouraging eyebrow. He blew the bangs out of one eye and gave his one shouldered shrug, as if deciding whether I was worthy of his confidence. “You know; more than pushing buttons and eating goop. More than just…endless nothingness.” He gave up, not fully capable of putting his feelings into words. I knew what he meant. He was an SK, with little hope of getting anywhere. I’d bet serious bit coin that that had been the topic of conversation in the counsellor’s office and suddenly I got angry. The system was so God damned unfair! Here was this bright kid, full of potential, being hampered by a label that he had no control over and he came to me for hope. I remembered the churning in my gut and my mental battle between my own truth and what he needed to hear.
“Look, Jake, you can’t let anyone, and I mean anyone, define who you are. Not the system, not me. There will be more out there if you want there to be. You don’t have to buy the crap they’re selling you; just find out who you are and go from there.” It wasn’t really the truth, not, at least, the way I understood it at the time; but now, facing an unknown future, I realized that I was right.
I straightened my shoulders, checked for my gun in the glove compartment of the car and made up my mind to get Blossom back, no matter the cost. I was prepared to kill or be killed and suddenly I felt a lot b
etter.
“It’s going to be alright, you guys,” I stated firmly, “we’ll get her back.” My statement had an immediate impact and the mood in the vehicle lifted as we exchanged strategies for rescuing the girl. I was glad they didn’t hear my whispered “if I have to die trying.”
Pipkin would only have five shots of his laser, as he couldn’t recharge as rapidly with one ear missing. I was happy to hear that his was equipped with nano-bots that could reconstruct him, but it would take time and that was the one thing we didn’t have.
We lost the trail several times in the dark and had to do more back tracking than I would have liked, but eventually the sun started to rise and our visibility improved. We drove slowly, not wanting to miss a clue as we wended our way back through the foothills and over the river bed, heading towards Montreal. Finally our luck ran out. The Sand Walkers had crossed a barren stretch of road, and we couldn’t pick up their tracks on the other side. Pipkin was running scans as best he could, but was limited by his inability to hover. We finally stopped to eat and strategize. We were all exhausted and Cedar’s grim expression wasn’t helping anyone’s morale. Everyone could tell that something was eating away at her, causing deep lines of worry between her eyebrows and her scowl would have scared off the most intrepid do-gooder.
Chapter 17 - Amethyst
As we followed the trail Cedar’s story slowly unfolded. She started quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, the words coming in broken phrases between her tears.
“We had already been outcast for a year or so, when my mother got pregnant. It was a surprise for the whole family, really. I guess my parents kind of forgot about the birth control issue. I mean, it would be easy right? You get a dose every time you’re checked for radiation, so it doesn’t even cross your mind. You just go for your monthly and boom, no problem.” She wiped her face, leaving her cheeks red and eyes swollen. “In a way it was terrible; another mouth to feed, the thought of a tender newborn in such a harsh environment, but at least my parents were happy and so was I.” I could see her eyes cloud over as she got lost in the memory. The vacant look of being transported back to a happier time was familiar to me. It was one of the draws of ‘O’, that weightless joy of complete satisfaction; lightening in a bottle. “It was scary, the birth, no medical staff or sterile environment, no guarantees that the baby would be healthy, but Mom was a trooper and, when she finally arrived, the baby was perfect.” I heard the catch in her voice and could see a tear roll down her cheek. Cedar ruthlessly rubbed it off her skin, clenched her teeth, hissing in air until she relaxed and continued.
“Mom called her Amethyst and she was such a happy baby. She was little, maybe three or four, when Dad died in that storm; I don’t think she really remembered him. So after Mom died, it was just the two of us for a while until we got rescued by other Outcasts. For a while it was almost like a real family. We moved around a lot, losing people to storms or exhaustion, and eventually it was just the two of us again. We tried to stay under the radar, but the Sand Walkers already knew about us and, for them, we were a hot commodity; two breeders, long out of the city, no birth control to wait out, but Amethyst was too young, so I guess they bided their time.” She paused, the memories overwhelming her. “They waited until she had her first period…I don’t know how, but they figured it out somehow. They came in the middle of the night, quietly, like shadows; I wasn’t awake enough to realize what was happening. I heard Amethyst scream, but it was cut short. I tried to get up, but was pushed back down and one of them put a cloth over my mouth. I fought them…I swear I did, but everything started spinning and went black.
“When I woke up I was locked in a cage, hands tied behind my back and a gag over my mouth. I looked around, but couldn’t see Amethyst. I thought they’d killed her by accident or that maybe she’d gotten away; how I prayed that she’d gotten away in that short moment. I tried to kick the bars, but the cage was so small that I couldn’t stretch out fully or stand. I could hear voices in another room and I finally made out the sound of my sister crying and begging to see me. I tried to call to her, but the gag muffled my voice and then I heard her yell “No!” That’s when I really panicked; I tried to wiggle out of the bindings, rubbing my wrists raw and thrashing in the cage until it tipped over on one side, but it didn’t do any good. I was so afraid for her that I must have hyper ventilated, because everything went black again.”
She stopped, seemingly unable to continue. The two of us sat in stunned silence, trying to fully grasp what she was telling us. Jake reached through the space between the front seats and squeezed Cedar’s arm. At the contact, Cedar reached up and gripped the boy’s hand in gratitude, taking comfort from the compassion that radiated through the touch, or so it seemed to me.
“It’s okay, you’ll feel better if you tell us,” urged Jake, swallowing hard. “We can take it.” Cedar allowed a small smile to pass over her lips before she took a deep breath.
“When I woke up the second time, I was still in the cage, but my hands were free and the gag was gone. There was another cage beside mine and I could see Amethyst curled up in one corner. They’d given her some bedding and she seemed to be fine, from what I could see. I called to her, as loudly as I dared. I didn’t want to bring any unwanted attention to us. I reached through the bars and could just reach her feet, so I shook one foot gently, trying to wake her. She woke slowly, but finally sat up, staring at me with a confused expression, like she was expecting to be in her room.
“’Are you okay?’ I asked, terrified that they’d already hurt her.
“’Yeah, they didn’t do anything yet.’ She reached out and held my hand, giving it a squeeze. I started crying, because I was the big sister and she was trying to comfort me; I was supposed to protect her and I knew I couldn’t do anything. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be alright. They told me that there’s going to be a big ceremony before,’ her courage faded a little, but she kept talking, ‘you know, before they try to make me pregnant and they promised it wouldn’t hurt.’
“It was one way of putting it and the thought of it made me cry even harder. I wanted to ask why they didn’t take me first; I was older and more likely to have a successful pregnancy, but in my heart I knew. They wanted to ensure they had a natural and the fact that she was a virgin was a bonus. I’d heard tales about the Sand Walkers and their weird ceremonies to ensure that the children were ‘pure’. They’re obsessed with keeping out the Mods,” she turned to me with a slight dip of the head, “no offense.”
“None taken,” I mean what else could I say? Sure I was one of the older gen Mods, my DNA had been manipulated to keep out certain genetic weaknesses and ensure that desirable traits prevailed. It was weird to know that the survivalists avoided genetic perfectionism, but I guess it made sense.
“They couldn’t be sure that I wasn’t a Mod. When they brought us food, I told them I was a Natural and the woman eye-balled me a bit and nodded, but it didn’t stop them from wanting Amethyst. I begged the women that came to take care of us; for them to spare my sister. They could see she was just a girl, but it didn’t matter. It didn’t take long to figure out that the men were dominant and the women generally fell in line with whatever they wanted. The night before the ceremony a middle aged woman came to explain what was going to happen, so that Amethyst wouldn’t be frightened.” Cedar snorted at this and fresh tears filled her eyes, but she took another deep breath and blotted her face with her sleeve.
“The woman, her name was Mary, explained that their society was strictly regulated; they had rules about the ratio of adult men to women in each settlement. My guess is that there was some sort of power struggle at some point and they’d figured out a golden ratio to make sure that there wasn’t much infighting. She also said that they had rules to safe guard the children; they had a ritual that would ensure that all the men looked after the offspring without prejudice. When a woman was first ‘brought in to the house’; that’s what they called it, every man would ‘welcome’ h
er, so that when she had the baby, no one would be sure who the father was.
“I could see that Amethyst didn’t really get what the woman was telling her, but I almost threw up when she finished explaining the ritual.
“You can’t do that!” I yelled, “That’s sick! What’s wrong with you?” The woman just smiled at me benignly and turned to reassure Amethyst. I could tell my sister was scared, I guess my reaction wasn’t exactly soothing, but Mary was calmly describing a gang rape, like it was a prom or something.” Cedar shook her head, still horrified by the experience.
“Anyhow, they did their ceremony and everyone came to watch. I think they drugged Amethyst with ‘O’, because she was really out of it and none of it seemed to hurt her. I cried the whole time and some idiot tried to cheer my up by telling me not to feel jealous, that my time was coming soon.” She punched the dashboard and Pip almost fell off. “They honestly thought that I was sad because it wasn’t me being ‘welcomed’. Idiots.
“The men had to wait for two moon cycles before they could have another ceremony with Amethyst, but there was another young girl ready and waiting. They had traded for her with one of the more distant settlements; which they told me it was common. She was so excited for her welcome. They’d brain washed her into thinking it was a blessing. I tried to get her to understand but she only babbled some bullshit about a legend that supported their beliefs. I knew that once she was through, they’d likely look to me. I wasn’t their first or best choice, I knew, I was older and though they came to believe that I was a Natural, more because of my height than anything else. I could tell that the women didn’t want the men to ‘welcome’ me. Maybe I just had too much fight still.”
“After a few weeks of being caged up, they tried to get me to help with foraging for supplies, but I tried to make a break for it and wound up back in the stupid little cage. If I hadn’t been so cramped up for so long they wouldn’t have caught me; I should have known better.”
Last Farmer: Last Farmer Series - Book 1 Page 16