Somehow, she felt that was too far. These people would tolerate starvation before they would stand for having scanners control their location.
She also wondered if rationing was feasible. They had to ensure that no food was wasted. If everyone received equal portions until the food was gone, it might help avoid flared tempers and wasted labor.
It was difficult to lie on these musty linens, let alone wrap herself in them. Everything smelled sour, with a thick layer of dusk coating the surface. It made her want to shower, except she would only have dusty, mildewed clothes to change into. They needed to assign laundry, but how would they divide the labor? So few of the people here would even know how to use the machines.
Freya jumped out of bed and quietly left their apartment, even though she wore sleeping attire. There was no plan other than to deal with her most petty grievance: laundry.
She found the room filled with oversized machines. Even better yet, it was also filled with large piles of bed linens.
Dust fogged the air around her as she grabbed armfuls of musty fabric and crammed them into the washing machines. She alternated breathing and grabbing bundles of fabric to avoid the stirred dust clouds, then took deep breaths once they settled.
Before she knew it, all the linens were spinning in their chambers of suds and water, and Freya’s hands were idle once again.
Uniforms. I can start washing clothing for everyone, if only I can find a stash of them.
She searched the discarded bins, but there was no clothing to be found. Despite the hour, her stubborn determination led her to search for clothes. Any clothes. It didn’t matter. Uniforms. Exercise clothes. Military fatigues. Everyone would be happier with something fresh to change into.
As she stepped into the atrium, it struck her how still it was. It was eerie. With all the stress hormones thundering through her veins, the silence only put her more on edge. She took deep breaths, working to calm her nerves.
“Hey,” a woman called out from behind the train.
Freya flinched, instantly reaching for the handgun she hadn’t thought to bring with her.
“Freya,” she stepped around the train. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”
As Laura came into view, the tension melted from Freya’s shoulders. “It wasn’t you. A squirrel could have scared me.”
Laura nodded, leaning against the train. “I hear you.”
Freya hesitated. She didn’t know what to say to Laura. Everything she could think of seemed wrong. “Any news?”
Laura shrugged; her eyes moistening. “Well, she’s still not dead, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Freya closed her eyes.
Yep. All wrong.
“Sorry.” Laura shrugged.
“No, Laura. I totally understand. Without a proper doctor, we have little information to go on. I mean, none of you even had guns. How would you know how to treat a bullet wound?”
Laura nodded silently.
“Well, if there is anything more I can do…”
Laura shrugged. “No. Either Gwen’s going to make it, or she won’t. They dug the bullet out, stitched her up, applied all these bandages and ointments. She’s pumped full of drugs. All we can do now is wait.”
Freya took a step closer. “Yes, but how can I help? I’m here. I can’t sleep. What do you need?”
A partial laugh escaped her lips. “I tried to sleep too. Can’t. I just can’t. Can we do something together? I don’t know, clean or cook or something? I mean, this place needs a lot of work. I tried to lie down for a bit, but the bed just reeks.”
Freya’s mouth widened into an unexpected, soft smile. “You know something, I came out here in search of laundry. I have three machines filled with linens already, and I was looking for clothes to throw in next. Everything is gross.”
Laura gave a slight smile. “You know, that sounds great to me.” She looked down at her blood-soaked clothing, pinching it. “I wanted to shower and change, then decided to lay down first. I smelled the bed, the clothes in the closet, the towels in the bathroom, and decided I’d rather stick with what I’ve got on.”
Freya pursed her lips. “Follow me.”
She turned and led her toward the State House, then into her old apartment. She retrieved a fresh towel and set of military fatigues from the closet, and handed them to Laura.
“I’m sure the pants will be big on you, but they’re clean. These belonged to Lewis, so at least they were recently washed.”
Laura nodded and looked down at her spoils. “It’s absolutely none of my business, but it sounded like you had history with that guy.”
Despite herself, Freya laughed. “Yeah, actually. I had a lot of history with him.”
Laura’s eyes narrowed. “I know you and Colin seem happy, but is it hard? I mean, did you still love him? How do you move on when…?”
Freya sucked in a sharp breath. “Laura, don’t. We don’t know anything yet. She might be fine.”
She blinked back her tears. “I just hoped you might know something I didn’t.”
Freya’s lips pressed together. “Well, that situation was different. I mourned Lewis’ death long ago.”
Laura set the clothing down on the bed. “And how did you deal with it then?”
No part of Freya wanted to have this conversation, yet she knew this wasn’t about her, or even Lewis, so she pressed on. “I guess it was different for me because I always accepted that our relationship was temporary. He was military, and we weren’t in control of our lives. I think when Colin left would be a better comparison. All I can say about that is every day passed. Every day felt the same until suddenly it felt different. It wasn’t easy. I didn’t have some profound realization or moment of closure. I just kept going until somehow, the pain was less. And then later, it lessened again. It never fully went away, but I did eventually get to a place where I felt capable of moving on.”
Laura nodded and retrieved her towel and clothing. “And where can I shower?”
Freya pointed to the door behind her. “Just behind you, unless you want to use a shower in a different apartment that’s been sitting empty all these years.”
Laura scrunched her face. “I’ll take my chances with the old guy’s germs.” She took a few steps toward the bathroom, then turned back to Freya. “I know it’s not my place to ask, but are we going to be okay?”
Freya’s body went rigid. “Why do you ask?”
Laura’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. I know you’re under a lot of pressure. And I shouldn’t go sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong. But I know Gwen. She didn’t say anything, but I don’t think that trip was just about the people who enjoy eating meat. We’re in trouble, aren’t we?”
The cords in Freya’s neck bulged as she swallowed hard. “We’re going to be fine. But we might be a bit hungry until our first crop. The meat from that hunting trip was meant to tie us over, so everyone only had to adapt to a plant-based diet.”
“And did we get enough?”
Freya pursed her lips. “We don’t know yet. We had hoped to get more, but I guess it will be an easier transition to our vegetable diet if everyone is a little hungry.”
Laura looked down as she nodded. It was clear to Freya that either she wasn’t a good liar, or Laura was more perceptive than most.
“Freya, if you need anything,” Laura started, then paused. “Well, let’s just say, I’m not good at sitting around. And I don’t sleep much if I’ve got things on my mind. So, if you want a laundry buddy or someone to help in the greenhouse at three in the morning, then come get me.”
“Thank you, Laura. But why don’t you take the shower. If you feel up to it, I’d love some help with laundry.”
Laura nodded and disappeared into the bathroom.
Freya stripped the linens of Lewis’ bed and pulled out all his clothes except one suit jacket and a white button-up shirt into a bundle in the hallway.
Laura’s offer warmed her heart yet made her even more
fearful simultaneously. It was kind of her, but soon, everyone may have to work those kinds of hours. Except unlike Laura, most people wouldn’t volunteer.
Chapter 32
One Week later
Freya
She leaned her aching back against the wall for support. Freya had spent her time divided between the greenhouse and laundry room. She felt people needed food and clean clothing more than they needed her to sit and legislate laws. There would come a time for politics, but they had to live through this first.
“You look tired,” Laura commented.
Freya rolled her head to the side drearily and glanced back at her with glossy eyes.
“Sorry. I know you’ve been burning the candle at both ends.”
The dinner line inched forward, and Freya shifted forward, keeping her stiff back against the wall. “We all have.”
“Some more than others,” Laura remarked sheepishly. “Some of us sit around more than they do anything else.”
“Laura, you’ve been helping in the clinic. I know you don’t always just sit by Gwen’s bedside. I’ve heard every time she falls asleep, you help with laundry and sorting the supplies.”
Laura shrugged. “Well, Gwen’s awake more now than she’s asleep, so I’m afraid I’m not contributing much.”
Freya stepped ahead in the line, her mouthwatering at the aromas wafting out of the kitchen. “How is she?”
“She’s doing better. The medic thinks she’s past the worst of it. And thanks to all the abandoned drugs and medical supplies, she shouldn’t get an infection or anything. We don’t know if she’ll ever use a bow again, but, she’ll live.”
“Yeah, only time will tell,” Freya said. “At least we have access to the State’s database and can advance our medic’s training and use it to train more nurses and doctors in the years to come.”
Laura’s eyes darted around as her cheeks flushed. “Yeah, I know. I’ve actually been looking over some of the information myself. I’ve helped clean Gwen’s wounds and gotten her out of bed to walk and such. Our medic said she’d like my help all the time. She wants to train me.”
It warmed Freya’s heart to hear Laura say this. It meant she had accepted her life inside the dome and even found something positive to focus on. They definitely needed people in the clinic. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. You’re both nurturing and tough; a good combination for someone helping the sick.”
Laura nodded. “I delivered a lot of babies in my time. I’ve always just had this kind of feel for people and what they need. I have to admit, part of me is looking forward to it. You know, if we make it that far.”
Freya pressed her eyelids closed. “It’s going to all work out.”
They reached the front of the line and were handed a plate each, both containing the same portion of rice, vegetables, and a slab of deer meat dominating the plate. Freya wonder if the meat was about to spoil, or if their rations of rice and vegetables were already running low.
Thus far, all Freya had communicated was that food was a little scarce until the greenhouses yielded a hearty crop. There could be periods where they had to transition off of certain foods in rotations, whereas meat would be removed from their diets completely.
While communicating this message, Freya took a tone of optimism, expressing a concern over food wastage and announcing that all meals would serve equal portions, its contents based on availability. She knew that in time, they would have to restrict rations to just the guards and pregnant women but felt that information should wait until later.
Right now, they needed optimistic attitudes to encourage people to share in the work, regardless of what it was, or who they had been in their previous roles. It was best to avoid fighting over rations until there were little rations left to fight over.
Once they retrieved their plates, together they headed for a table. Eating dinner had become something she looked forward to, as she usually met with Gita or Laura to dine. Somehow, having to eat in the common room made her want to spend her time with her girlfriends instead of Colin.
With returning to the dome, she craved a new routine. The last place she wanted to be was at the State House. Yes, they still held their meetings on the balcony to discuss more sensitive matters, and she personally harvested the precious vegetable garden. But mostly, she avoided the State House.
She hated it. So many memories of those grounds, the garden, her life before she went through the transport device. Those memories haunted her with every moment she was contained inside those walls.
It also went deeper. To see the grounds that she diligently labored over, that she once loved, destroyed, it was heartbreaking. Looking over the grounds, she felt as though her life before she became the Head of State didn’t matter.
“So,” Laura started, “how is everything going in those greenhouses?”
Freya snapped out of her thoughts. “Well, we’ve got three greenhouses planted. There is one more I’d like to sort out this week.”
Laura slowly cut into her steak. “How many do we need?”
“I’m not yet certain. I think three might be enough, but I really don’t know. We’ve always eaten rice, but apparently, that was shipped in from the mountain. That’s why I’d like to get the closest five yielding as soon as possible.”
“What will we do without it?” Laura asked. “I mean, I haven’t gotten all that attached to it since I got here, but it helps fill me up.”
Freya struggled to work her knife threw the leathery textured meat. “Yes, but so do potatoes. And thank goodness we got those from you. So, we’ll need more space to grow now that we’re growing all of our food inside the dome.”
Freya looked up to see Gita standing in line and waved at her. Just after their eyes met, Freya noticed Samuel step into line with a group of his peers. She narrowed her eyes. “I’ll be right back.”
She abandoned her meal and jogged out of the room to sneak into the side door of the kitchen. Once inside, she called over the woman plating meals. “Hey, I know you’re not the one handing out the plates, but do you know if they’re doing anything to make sure people only take one plate?”
The woman shrugged. “No clue. We give people one unless they say they’re grabbing plates to bring to other people.”
Freya’s breath hitched. “Okay, well, no more letting people take plates anywhere except the clinic. And we need to come up with a system to ensure people are only taking one plate. I just saw a man finish his meal and then return to the lineup for another.”
The woman looked at her with glossed over eyes. “Well, I don’t know what you guys did in this dome before, but unless you can give us more people to help, we’re doing all we can. We can’t start writing down names or anything. We don’t have time.”
Freya nodded and forced her lips into a tight smile. “I know. You guys are working so hard and I appreciate it. I’ll talk this over with the others and see what we can do to get you more help.”
The woman pursed her lips as she looked at Freya from the corner of her eyes, as though she was calling Freya’s bluff. “More help would be great. If you find some, be sure to send them down here.”
The woman turned her back on Freya, returning to her plating duties without another word. Left standing there alone, Freya took a moment to collect herself before she turned and left the kitchen. The truth was, she didn’t know if there were any people to spare, or if it would help with their rationing issue if they did.
The last thing she wanted to do was to make life inside the dome feel the same as when the State was in power. But she didn’t know how to get everyone to act for the greater good, of if that was even possible.
When Freya entered the common room, she walked over to Samuel standing in the lineup, trying to appear much more confident than she felt. “Samuel, may I have a word with you?”
He remained rooted in place and shrugged his massive shoulders. “Sure. What do you need?”
Freya’s eyes darted to the patrons
on either side of him in the lineup. “Shall we go somewhere else to talk?”
He tucked his chin. “I don’t see what’s wrong with right here.”
She clenched her jaw. Her gaze flicked around briefly before she began, “Oh, well, I was just curious. I saw you already finished a plate, yet here you are, back in line for another. Did you know we no longer allow people to take plates outside of the common room?”
Samuel grimaced. “No, I didn’t.” He looked around and raised his volume slightly. “But I was planning on staying in here while I ate, so I guess you don’t need to worry.”
She clasped her hands in front of her, pulling her lips into a tight grin. “That’s great, except for the fact that you already had a plate for yourself. We are distributing equal rations, and we all have to reduce our portions in order to—”
Delivered: A Young Adult Dystopian Romance (The State Series Book 7) Page 23