by Ann Bakshis
Quin shakes my arm and we continue across the bridge.
The lane we step onto is covered in broken red brick, grass sporadically trying to reach for the sun through the pavers. A stone wall about four feet high lines one side of the lane, with the river running along the other. We walk south along the wall, only spotting the occasional person scurrying down the path, avoiding all eye contact, heads bent down, feet shuffling as he or she goes. We turn right, following the wall. Three story dwellings are crammed together along the lane. I hear voices next to us and look up to see a Regulator’s tower standing in the middle of the field the stone wall has surrounded, with a monitor affixed to the side of the structure displaying the same scenes we saw earlier.
Quin and I continue to walk; I’m watching the screen while he seems to be counting the doors of the houses.
“This one,” he says, as he pulls me around the corner and up to a glass door.
He goes right in without knocking, and walks up the set of stairs in the front entranceway. We climb to the top floor, go down a dank, narrow hallway and stop in front of room 313. Quin knocks once, then twice, then three times. I hear movement on the other side of the door, which opens, revealing a tiny room with five people sitting around a table, playing cards. I hear the same voice from the screen outside echoing from somewhere beyond the door.
“Can I help you?” A young woman with long red hair, thin fingers, and slight build says after she opens the door only part way.
“Thomas sent us,” Quin says to the woman, while watching the people at the table. They seem to be too wrapped up in their card game to notice us.
“Come in,” the woman says, as she opens the door wider, allowing us entry. She gestures for us to have a seat on a pale orange couch that looks like it could double as a bed. She sits on a small chair opposite us, her gray clothing bunching around her waist and ankles as she sits down. “What can I help you with?”
“We need passage to Acheron,” Quin says, as he leans forward, arms resting on his knees.
“That’s a pretty serious request,” the young woman proclaims, as she stands up and begins to pace behind her chair.
The group playing cards begin to argue over the number of cards that have been dealt.
“Why would you want to go to Acheron?”
“That is a private matter,” Quin states, shortly.
I can feel the agitation building in his body as he stiffens, balling his hands into fists that still rest upon his knees.
“Well, if I’m to risk my life for the two of you I certainly want to know why.”
“Let’s go, Quin, this is a waste of time.” I stand up and head for the door.
“You’re not going anywhere,” one of the men at the table says, as he rises out of his seat and lunges for me.
I whip the cane around and crack him in the jaw, knocking him to the ground. Another card player grabs the arm with the cane, and twists. I take my free hand and grab him around the throat, squeezing until his eyes roll into the back of his head, watching with a grin as he falls to the floor.
Finally, some real action. Let’s see who I can kill today.
The lone female player jumps on my back, driving something sharp in between my shoulder blades. I reach over my shoulder, grab her by the hair, and throw her across the room, into the cabinets. After removing the knife sticking out of my shoulder, I seize our hostess and fling her to the floor, putting the knife to her throat.
“Now, are you going to help us or not?” I say through gritted teeth, sweat dripping down my face.
The woman is crying as I continue to press the knife into her throat, cutting her. A hand touches my shoulder and I watch as Quin reaches for the knife. I look up at him, watching his mouth move, but I don’t hear the words that he’s speaking.
“Meg,” he says to me.
Meg? My name is Trea.
“Meg snap out of it.”
I look at him for a moment then down at my hands and recoil in horror as I see the knife covered in blood, a terrified look upon the woman’s face. I drop the weapon and slink back against the wall, knees up to my face. Quin tends to the injured as I try to secure Trea back into the recesses of my mind.
What causes me to lash out so much? The littlest thing seems to set me off now.
I stay in my little spot for some time, afraid to talk or move, as the small apartment is placed back into order. The card game resumes while dinner is prepared. Quin is talking with our hostess and making plans for our trip. They decide it will happen the day after tomorrow, though I catch only snippets of the conversation.
Room is made for us at the table when dinner is ready. The man I choked kneels down in front of me, offering his hands to assist me in standing. I shake my head no, as I’m too embarrassed about my earlier actions.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says in a sweet voice. “We’ve gotten worse from the Regulators.”
I smile slightly and take his hands as he introduces himself to me as Jagger, then brings me over to the rest of his housemates: Naomi, Bea, Karl, Faber, and Cass.
We eat watered-down mushroom soup amid casual conversation. Naomi seems eager in learn all about Quin. She is practically glued to his side, much to my displeasure. I turn my attention to Jagger, who is sitting next to me.
“How do you know Thomas?” I ask him after swallowing some soup.
“He was my trainer at the machinist plant from when I was thirteen. When he was forced to leave, I made it a point to do whatever I could for him.”
“Like what?”
“At the back of the Borough, part of the fencing is bent, so we can crawl through it, but only a little way. It’s enough to get extra supplies down to the camp so they don’t starve.”
Talk slowly winds down as the evening approaches. The dishes are cleared and the men, along with Quin, adjourn to the bedroom for the night while the remainder of us stay and sleep on the small foldout bed in the front room.
Naomi takes the left side, while Bea takes the middle, and I cling to the right edge of the thin mattress. I try to fall asleep, but the constant droning from the monitor is making it virtually impossible. I nudge Bea lightly, rousing her from sleep to ask if there is a way to turn it off.
“No, it’s always on. It’s controlled by the Regulators. We can’t even adjust the volume.” She falls back to sleep with ease, though I remain wide awake, watching and listening.
The supposed death toll from the shuttle disaster rises when the announcer claims that more bodies have been located floating among the wreckage. I close my eyes and try to will myself asleep only to be jarred by a sudden high-pitched whistle coming from the screen. The words Special Announcement scroll in bold red type across the top. I look over at Bea and Naomi, but neither has stirred.
“We have just received word that High Ruler Aldus Vladim of Tyre has announced he will send forces to Acheron and attempt to seize the city.”
I sit fully upright in bed, listening to every word the announcer is saying.
“Our Superior of Communication was able to intercept the broadcast High Ruler Vladim sent out to his people today.”
The screen changes to Vladim standing on a balcony on one of the many high rises in Tyre, gesturing to the crowd that has gathered below him.
“My fellow Tyreans, the High Ruler of Acheron sent thieves into Tyre to rob the Antaean known as Trea from us. He carefully orchestrated her removal from our city, but we have located those responsible.” The picture changes to five men and women lined up in the center of one of the Boroughs. “I have no doubt that he has taken her to Acheron where she will be tortured and eventually killed. I have called on my security forces from the Boroughs in the north to form a recovery team and enter Acheron to take back our most prized possession.”
“When this was brought to High Ruler Hayden’s attention,” the announcer breaks in, “he had the following comment.”
The screen changes to the symbol of Acheron.
A new
voice, presumably Hayden’s, begins to speak. “We have always known the people of Tyre could not be trusted. Ever since the destruction of the Dormitories, our relationship with them has been severely strained. If this war is to happen, Acheron will prepare itself, and we will prevail.”
I climb out of bed and head to the bedroom to get Quin.
Chapter 15
Quin is lying on the floor, covered in thin blankets. The other men lay on small cots spread throughout the tiny dark space. I kneel beside him, place my hand on his shoulder and shake him. He stirs slightly, but doesn’t wake. I shake him a little harder causing him to open his eyes and look up at me.
“What?” he asks, eyelids still half-closed.
“We need to get to Acheron today.”
“What…why?”
I tell him about the announcement I saw on the monitor.
“He’ll do anything to find all of the Antaeans, which is why we need to get to Acheron before he does.”
“I understand your concern, but there’s nothing we can do at the moment. Naomi and the others are not scheduled to depart until the day after tomorrow.” He grabs my arm and pulls me down next to him, draping one of his blankets over me. “Now try and get some sleep.” He pulls me into his chest, resting his chin on the top of my head.
I know he’s right, but my anxiety is getting the best of me. I try to mimic my breathing with his to calm myself down and it begins to work as I slowly feel my eyes begin to close.
“Meg.”
I hear my name uttered from a far off location. I begin to rock along with the violent waves in my dream. My stomach turns as the motion becomes more vicious.
“Meg.”
My eyes shoot open and I see Quin bending down over me.
“You need to get up, now.”
I toss the blanket off, get up, and follow him into the living room. The monitor is displaying work orders for the day, showing Naomi and her roommates as last minute add-ons to the rotation.
“Looks like you’re going to get your wish,” Quin says at my back.
“We need to get a move on if we’re to get you two on board the ferry,” Jagger says, as he lays out tools on the top of the dining table. He picks up a thin metal thread, which he inserts into a menacing-looking device that is clutched tightly in his hand.
“What is that?” I ask.
“It’s an encoder. I need to program Bea and Karl’s details into these threads and then implant them into your wrists. Everyone is scanned before they are allowed onto the ferries.” Jagger rolls up his sleeve, revealing a bar code just under the surface of the skin on the inside of his wrist.
“Won’t the Regulators know we aren’t Bea and Karl?” I ask, as I sit down across from him.
“They don’t look at faces, only the bar codes.”
The lights that had been flashing red on the encoder are now bright green. Jagger takes my left wrist, sets the mouth of the encoder against my skin, and squeezes the trigger on the handle. My flesh begins to burn and I’m forced to bite my lower lip to keep from screaming. I feel the thin metal slide under my skin, snaking its way along my wrist. Jagger removes the encoder and motions for Quin to take a seat.
I look down at my wrist as I stand; the flesh is bright red, slowly changing to pink. The bar code is just beneath the epidermis. I wonder how easy it is to pull out.
Bea and Karl hand us their uniforms, which consist of gray twill pants, matching long sleeve tops and black boots. I pull my hair up after running a brush through it. Faber and Cass each fill a sack with food, handing it to us, as we won’t be returning for a few days. Then we leave the apartment with the others. The six of us exit the housing unit and walk straight towards the Regulator’s building in the center of the square. Jagger and Quin take the lead, with Naomi and me in the middle. We line up behind several other groups of workers and walk through the thick barbed wire gate.
The building we enter is comprised of gray cinder blocks stacked two stories high, topped with a once-copper roof. We are directed down a flight of stairs to our left as soon as we walk into the structure. The air smells more and more sour the further down we go. I’m practically choking back bile as we reach the bottom, where I notice several Regulators are wearing air purifier masks over their faces. They scan each worker’s wrist before letting them pass into the ferry terminal behind them.
Jagger is right; they don’t look at my face, but only scan the code and then let me pass when the lights on their reader turn green.
We walk down the damp cement sidewalk and break off to the right after passing five ferry slots. I follow Naomi as she descends a small flight of stairs leading toward a wide metal boat. I nearly fall the moment I step on, due to a slimy film covering much of the floorboards. Faber and Cass head below deck to get the engines started while the rest of us untie the vessel from its moorings. We shove off and join the parade of boats as we make our way out into the canal.
We are seventh in line to go through the locks leading into the lake. As we wait our turn, I watch people walk along the canal’s edge and over the bridges on their way to the factories that have started jettisoning black steam into the air. Every ten feet or so along the bridges and paths stands a Regulator, more today than yesterday. I sense someone is watching me, so I turn my head around to see Jagger staring at me intently. He motions with his head towards a monitor we are about to pass under. I turn my attention back around and observe as Acheron’s emblem blazes across the screen: a large golden hawk, its wings wide open against a dark blue background.
We sail under the bridge and come out the other side to an identical screen, and I watch as the bird vanishes, replaced by large red letters: WAR. As the word spins slowly around on an invisible axis, an announcer comes on over the speakers, his voice harsh and deep.
“Laics of Acheron,” a voice begins, “our fears have come to pass. As your leader, I appeal to you to assist us in our time of need. With the violent attack several days ago, and by the proclamation made by High Ruler Vladim of Tyre our city will soon be at war. We must do whatever it takes to secure the safety and well-being of Acheron and of its people. Supply shipments from the outlying Oases will soon stop, so all food reserves will need to be moved to the city itself; rationing will begin immediately. Each household will be given enough supplies to last them for several months as winter is approaching, and this will cause supply runs from the city to the Boroughs to be slower due to the inclement weather. Be ever ready for the new challenges that are approaching.”
The word dissolves from the screen and is replaced with the emblem. I notice Quin is now standing next to me, resting his hand on top of mine as I grip the side of the boat.
“The quicker we find Kedua the better,” I whisper to him.
The boat turns into the first lock, and the metal gates close behind us as the greenish water is slowly piped out and replaced with clearer liquid. We continue through another set of locks and the same process continues until all of the green water is left behind and we sail out onto the clean clear lake.
We travel slowly for two hours, heading south along the coast before finally coming to a stop about one hundred yards from a large dune. Jagger and Quin secure the boat to an iron supply depot that stands thirty feet high, fastened to the lake floor with large mooring clamps. Faber and Cass come up from below and enter the building. We begin to load steel canisters onto the boat, stacking them ten high below deck. I notice the boat beginning to ride lower in the water due to the weight, but Naomi assures me we will be fine. We’re back underway an hour later, heading north towards Acheron.
A perimeter has been established a mile outside the city’s edges. Our boat is searched and we are scanned again before being allowed passage. The platform we pull alongside juts out from a barrier wall. There appears to be a total of six such platforms, extending outward in a star-like formation, all radiating from the city itself. Skyscrapers shoot upward, leaving long shadows against the cold waves. The reflective materi
al everything is constructed out of is not a metal I’ve ever seen before. The waves are cold and the air crisp, yet the deeper we sail into the platform, the warmer the atmosphere becomes.
Our boat slides into dock number three, locking into place. Naomi and Jagger motion for us to follow them below deck. As we enter the holding chamber, I watch as Faber and Cass turn off the engines and open the large door at the far end. A Regulator is standing on the opposite side, waiting for us to begin unloading our supplies onto the conveyor belt next to him. After I lift a canister onto the belt, Jagger pokes my shoulder and motions me to follow him. We head back towards the front of the boat and into a small bedchamber. Quin changes into a Regulator’s uniform that had been concealed in one of the canisters. Jagger reaches down to another canister, opening the lid to reveal the cache of weapons inside.
“We’ve been waiting for our moment,” he says, as he removes a Levin gun and hands it to me. “Now’s our chance.”
I take the gun and slip it into an empty sack. I hear Faber calling the Regulator back into the boat, saying that he needs assistance with one of the canisters, then a small scuffle occurs just on the other side of the closed door to the bed chamber. There is a soft knock on the door, which Jagger opens, and Cass shoves the dead man into the room. His head is at a grotesque angle due to his neck being broken. Quin exits the room to take the Regulator’s position while the rest of us change clothes. I put on a pair of tight black pants, a silver belt that hangs loosely from my waist, a long sleeve purple Lycra top, and a pair of black leather gloves with the fingers cut off. I decide to keep the boots, as the shoes they had acquired don’t look comfortable.
As soon as I’m dressed, Naomi grabs my arm and pulls me across the hall to a tiny bathroom. We both barely fit inside. I look at the bathroom sink in front of me and spot a small bottle filled with a black liquid and a pair of scissors.