Manifest Destiny: Part One: Lost In Limbo

by Kay, Sabra M.

  “I knew in my gut I should come here. I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner.”

  “Nah. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Why did you leave us? Earlier?” She felt stupid for asking the question. Why does it matter?

  “I was only slowing you down. Decided to come back here and wait things out. Got hit on the way home.” She coughed. Blood dribbled from the corner of her mouth.

  Selah cried out, looking toward the ceiling and tears rolled down her cheeks. “I can’t lose you, Nat.”

  “Ah, Selah. It’s okay. It’s time. I can’t look out for you, but you’re strong now. You are a survivor and a fighter. You’re gonna be okay.”

  Hot tears coursed down her cheeks as she sat, holding her friend. “Thank you…for everything.”

  Nat’s eyes were closed. “No, Selah. Thank you. Made the years after my daughter…bearable. Love you…”

  She took a few shuddering breaths and then stopped. Selah buried her head in her friend’s chest and sobbed. She couldn’t hold back her cries, but there was no time for grief. She had work to do.

  She arranged Nat on the couch and took the blanket off her bed, covering her. She would come back as soon as she could to bury her. She knew where she needed to go. The one place that survivors were guaranteed to gather. The bar.

  She closed the door gently behind her and made her way to the center of town. There were a few women wandering around that she didn’t really know, and they hurried along to wherever they were going, not interested in stopping to chat. The devastation was more severe as she went, and she realized that the bar was likely not standing. The elementary school which served as school, community hall, cafeteria and library for children and adults alike was leveled and charred. It broke her heart.

  Again, she saw that there were a few scattered remains of men and older boys, but most were gone. She wasn’t sure how young they took boys, but she saw that most of the dead children were in fact female. Her gut wrenched her again. As numb as she was, there was no way to block out the horror of dead children.

  She rounded the corner and came to the little square where the bar stood, along with a church, the main store, rations depot and a few odds and ends buildings. The park was littered with charred remains, the playground in the middle looked eerie in the midst of the annihilation. She kept going, amazed that the shack-like building was unharmed by the flames and gunfire.

  As she got closer, she saw the small crowd around the entrance. There were just a handful of women and a couple of kids there. She recognized Ella Sherman, Denise and a couple other women whose names she didn’t know but she had seen around. Denise saw her first and waved her over. She had tearstains and soot covering her face, her bloodshot eyes swollen and bruised.

  “Selah!”

  She rushed toward Denise and they hugged hard and quick. Ella shuffled amongst the women, a vacant look on her little face. Selah’s heart sank; she didn’t see Jamie.

  Ruthie came out of the bar, followed by Tilly and Amy. Selah was never so happy to see these girls in her life, she almost grabbed Tilly and Ruthie and hugged them both. Ruthie looked miserable, ragged and worn. Tilly just looked terrified.

  Amy spoke first.

  “Glad you found us.” She looked around as she said this, and then asked the question. “Nat?”

  Selah shook her head. “I’ll be needing to bury her today. Just came to see who was left.”

  “There’s a number of scattered survivors. There’s a group right now, going from house to house. Tryin’ to find whoever might be stuck inside.” Denise let out a long, shuddering sigh. “More dead bodies’n anything. ‘Cept the men.”

  “We found your friend…Gabe is it?” Amy said. “He was one of the men who didn’t make it, didn’t get taken.” She looked nervously around. Ella had wandered among the bodies to the playground, and was standing at the swings, pushing an empty one.

  “Her dad dead? Her mom?” Selah hadn’t seen Jamie, and assumed that she hadn’t made it, but her father could have just been taken.

  “Haven’t found her dad, a couple of women who claim they saw the Black Soldiers loading up men said they saw a bunch of men go, including Ella’s daddy, Frank, Garrett and…your brother.”

  Selah found her way to the picnic table, shaking and crying fresh tears. Kent! She thought of Gabe. She thought of Dillon, and wondered if he was charred and dead in a building somewhere, or loaded up and heading to the alien compound, waiting to be turned into a murdering Black Soldier. It was too much.

  Ruthie sat next to her. “They got my Garret. And they got Zack. He was your brother’s friend.”

  Selah sniffled. Zack was a good kid, although he had become somewhat of a troublemaker in the last few months. She had seen him running around with some of Garrett’s younger crew, and with Tilly.

  “I’m gonna find those monsters. I’m gonna kill them all!” Tilly exploded, kicking the outside wall of the bar.

  Ruthie jumped up and tried to restrain her sister. “Shhh. Sis, you gotta stay strong. You gotta, for the baby.”

  Tilly quieted a bit at that. Selah looked up, shocked. Tilly was fourteen, she guessed. Pregnant? Was Zack the father? She didn’t ask. None of that was of immediate importance, at least not to her. But Tilly’s outburst made her think.

  “What do we do?” She looked around at the women of Limbo. Tired, wounded, grief-stricken and angry they looked at her, and then each other.

  “I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do.” Ruthie stood, chest heaving, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I’m gonna go find Garrett, and our other men.”

  “What? How? No one ever comes back.” Jenna had been in the bar, but now joined her friend.

  “I don’t care how. There’s got to be a way. We can’t just…forget about them!”

  “Not even the military has been able to defeat the Voraks. No way we can.”

  “I don’t give a flying fuck about defeating them. I want him back.” Ruthie glanced around at the other women. She found Selah’s face in the small crowd.

  “What about your brother? What about Dillon? Didn’t he save your life—a few times?” She approached Selah, shoving her finger in her chest.

  Selah thought about striking her hand away, but thought better of it. She was no longer afraid of Ruthie, she only felt compassion for her. Besides, she liked where this was going. She had already pondered the idea of going in search of the resistance, or even tracking the Black Soldiers, if it was possible.

  Ruthie continued. “You just gonna abandon him?”

  Selah shook her head. “Hell no. No I’m not. I say we go find them, save them.”

  Ruthie nodded. Amy and Denise looked at each other, fear on their faces, but something else, too. Hope, maybe.

  Tilly spoke up next. “Okay, yeah. But where the hell do we start? We don’t even know how to get to the Voraks, or the resistance.”

  “There’s plenty of people out there who know. We’ve been isolated here. There’s people who’ve seen the Dome for themselves, seen the shuttles and been to the resistance camp. We could find them, no problem.” Amy finished off the statement by crossing her arms and tilting up her chin. She was on board.

  “I say we just stay here. We’ll die if we leave town.” Jenna had a terrified expression. “There’s still kids and babies here that need looking after.” She jerked her head at Ella. “She doesn’t have a momma anymore. Tilly, your pregnant for Chrissake’s, what the hell are you gonna do?”

  At that, a group of about twenty women and children appeared from down the street. They moved slowly, some hobbling along with help. There were several children ranging in age from infants to twelve-year-olds. Amy, Denise and Jenna rushed over to help the women, but Selah, Ruthie and Tilly stayed behind.

  “So, what do you think? I say we get outta here, the sooner the better.” Selah looked at Ruthie, hoping she would agree to a trip out to the resistance base, wherever that was.

  “I’m game. Let’s get our shit in ord
er and head out.” Her voice was firm, but fear was in her eyes.

  “Settled, then. I got some stuff to take care of, but I’m thinking tomorrow is good. We can’t wait too long.”

  Ruthie nodded. She walked over to her sister, who had returned toting an infant in her arms, followed by Amy, Denise and Frieda, David’s wife. She handed off her toddler to Ruthie’s waiting arms and then collapsed in exhaustion.

  “It’s bad out there.”

  The woman who spoke put her hands over her face and started crying.

  Amy put her arms around her, comforting her. For a few minutes, the women looked around, looked to each other. Some were crying, some simply stared, some tended to children who were too shocked to shed any tears. Selah walked over and led Ella back to the bar. It was getting chilly out, and most of the group were in one stage of shock or another. There was a generator out the back of the building, and a couple of space heaters that kept the place warm in the winter months.

  “Amy, do you have any blankets?” Amy and John lived in a trailer that sat at the far end of the cracked, weed-infested parking lot.

  She nodded, and Denise volunteered to go round up more blankets and food. Ruthie and Jenna set off to the well for water. It was time for action; there would be a long night ahead, and the next day they would need to bury their dead.

  Late into the night, Selah, Ruthie, Denise and Amy huddled behind the bar, plotting their route. There was a small community north east of Limbo that was home to a couple of hundred folks who didn’t like the restrictions of living in an authorized settlement. It was home to a few “retired” resistance fighters, and saw frequent travelers pass through.

  Selah dreaded the thought of having to tell Frank about Nat’s passing, and she felt sick inside at the prospect of striking out into the unknown—again. She also thought of Nieve--when would she see her again? It had to be good enough to know that she was relatively safe, for now at least.

  They didn’t leave the next day. There was too much to do. There were injured, frightened women and children still holed up in houses and buildings. A few men who were injured and nearly dead, who had been missed by the soldiers turned up. First aid supplies were low, but they made do with what they had. Selah, Ruthie and the others stayed the next day, helping to bury their loved ones and gathering supplies.

  The group decided to bunk at Denise’s. No one wanted to be alone. Most of the hundred or so survivors sought out new shelter closer to each other and the center of town. It brought Selah back to her first several months in Limbo, when the population was much lower. Over the last two years, it had grown as new families arrived and children were born. Now, it was leveled in some parts, and what little was left of the population had already started picking up the pieces.

  Part of Selah felt guilty for leaving Limbo behind. They were going to be vulnerable. There was no way to know whether or not the Corporation would send relief. A few of the women talked about moving on to the Skirts. Selah didn’t blame them. She didn’t even try to talk them out of it, knowing full well that things were all kinds of bad there. But this, this was really bad, and who knew how much worse it would get.

  That morning, while it was still dark, Selah made her way to the little house she had called home. She packed a few of her belongings. Her little photo album, evidence of happier times. Photos of her mother as a child, her father and mother on their wedding day. Her Aunt, Uncle and cousins. A photo of Nieves, Kent and Selah, all smiles, just months after the Voraks made their appearance, when everyone cautiously believed that they had truly come in peace to usher in a new era of universal brotherhood. Finally, there were polaroid photos of her with Kent and Nat. Nat’s friend Frank had brought her a polaroid camera with a film cartridge, all in working order. They had fun that afternoon, drinking wine and taking photos of each other. She stared at the photo she had taken of Frank, his arm around Nat, who was all smiles. She looked young and vibrant.

  Selah felt a wave of guilt as she thought about how different things would be if Nat had just left Limbo and moved in with Frank. She would be happy, free and most importantly, alive.

  She moved into Nat’s room. She sucked in her breath as she wandered through her space, the pictures on the wall, the knick-knacks and shelves of books. Who would care for these things? How long before their little house would be pillaged, its contents parted out among the people passing through Limbo to take what the dead left behind? Selah didn’t have much time, but she went quickly through, grabbing a few of Nat’s tinier treasured possessions, one book and a photo of her daughter, which she slipped into her own album. She took one last look around. It was time to go.

  They left Limbo at sunrise. Selah led the group. Jenna and Sam stayed behind, much to Ruthie’s dismay. Tilly couldn’t be talked out of going with them. Denise and Amy both chose to go. They set off together in silence.

  Deep down, each had hope, hope that in their search they would find that all was not lost, that the humans had a fighting chance and that they could be a part of that fight. The sunrise was brilliant that morning, and Selah breathed the crisp air, free of the soot and smoke that still hung about Limbo. She set the pace for the rest of the group, with Ruthie at her side. Their faces were grim but determined. They all felt fear, but kept walking, not knowing what awaited them over the next rise.

  Nieve

  Nieve woke in a cold sweat, just minutes before her alarm was set to go off. She had been up most of the night, watching her baby as he slept, sobbing quietly. Today would be the day; he was now three months old. Today he would be delivered to his new home, a communal infant care facility where he would be raised until five years of age, and then he would leave there for elementary education.

  Nieve would be assigned a partner, a new dwelling, and a job. These were details that had not been disclosed when she signed the residency agreement upon entering the community. She suspected she would be given no choice in jobs or housing, and possibly partner, but she had not anticipated losing custody of her child.

  She didn’t plan to care so much. When she found out she was pregnant, she fantasized daily about having a miscarriage, but it didn’t happen. She would be having Garret’s baby. For nine months, she tried to deny the truth of things, that she would be a mother, even as her belly grew. The only upside was that it made it easier to follow through with her father’s plan, his plan that she apply for residency to the Skirts, that she abandon her siblings and become a prisoner behind the walls of the Worldcorp Community. All so she could try to track down and communicate a message to the operatives that had gone before her…if they were still alive.

  She cuddled Daniel and fantasized about escaping with her baby, of running, hiding. It was a useless waste of time, though. There was no way around what she had to do. She had to give up her baby, “marry” a stranger, and live out her life in the dismal world of the Skirts.

  He cooed and gurgled while she changed and dressed him, his chubby face breaking into wide, toothless grins. Nine A.M. would come quickly. She was told she would have three days to grieve and to recover, and then would pack her things and go to meet Brian at the Justice Of The Peace, sign paperwork and move into her new apartment, with her new “partner.”

  Brian seemed nice enough. He was her age and was an electrician’s apprentice. He had a sense of humor, and enough decency to be apologetic for their forced arrangement and her predicament. If she didn’t have to give up Daniel, she might not even mind the arrangement. As it was, she couldn’t even imagine breathing without her baby, let alone trying to go to a job or make a home with someone.

  Her original mission had been to make contact with any or all of the men and women who had entered the community to gain insight and even access to the inner workings of Worldcorp. It was a longshot mission, half-baked and with little chance of success. There was no other way to get answers, though. Now she was supposed to find these people and give them a message, and help them find a way out. How she was supposed to do any
of that, she didn’t know. She didn’t know when she got there, just four months pregnant, scared and confused, and she didn’t know now, the young mother of an infant she was about to be ripped away from.

  A sharp rap on the door jarred her from her memories. They were early! The social workers had come to take her and her baby to the facility, where he would be cared for by strangers so she could concentrate on her job, and have more babies. Only the upper class were able to keep their children. For workers like her, it was just a distraction.

  Walking to the door, clutching Daniel in her arms, she felt as though she would collapse any moment. She willed her legs to move and finally reached the door. A woman stood there with a tight, businesslike smile. Next to her was a rather large man, also all business. No smile.

  “Nieve Porter?” She asked.

  Nieve couldn’t speak. She had intended to stay strong. Told herself all kinds of things to make herself okay with what was going to happen. She told herself she never wanted the baby, that she would have terminated the pregnancy if she could have. Told herself that without the baby, she would be better able to focus on her mission: to find the men and women who had gone to the Skirts to spy. To find out what they had learned. To see if there was a way out, to give them a message from her father. A message that made no sense to her, but that they would understand.

  Now it was time. She wasn’t ready. Every instinct in her body, down to the minuscule core of every cell screamed at her to run, fight, hide and protect her baby. But Nieve was always the logical one, the less emotional sibling. Now the tears were unstoppable, and she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move and couldn’t save her child.

  She stared at the woman accusingly. Daniel started fussing and Nieve felt the tingle in her breasts, signaling her it was already time for another feeding. The air left the room. The blood drained from her face and she sank to her knees, still clutching him to her heaving chest. Everything went black.