Initiation (Gypsy Harts #1)

by C. D. Breadner

  “I know honey,” Em mumbled, setting the box in the van then turning to her, frowning at her nose. Her hands came to Oakley’s jaw. “I’m gonna set your nose. This is going to hurt. And it’s going to bruise and swell. I’m sorry.”

  Oakley nodded, steeling herself. “I know. Just…do what you have to.”

  There was a terrible crack, the world sparked white for a full five seconds, and Oakley cried out “Ouch! Fuck! Son of a bitch!’ She’d never known such pain. God, that had to be the worst feeling ever.

  “You’ll be all right,” Em assured her, chuckling. “Let’s get going. We’re losing daylight.”

  Oakley was right behind her, then suddenly she was doubled over, vomiting her lunch on to the sand, her head swimming and her stomach turning.

  “Oakley, what the hell?”

  “Are you sick?”

  “Shit, if you caught something we have to quarantine you.”

  She fought to catch her breath. Sure, she felt better, but her head was spinning again, just like it had been in that basement.

  “Something’s wrong,” she mumbled, letting Em pull her to her feet. “I’ve been nauseous the last three days.”

  “She’s sick,” Brit was snapping, backing away. “Keep her away. Put her in the back. We have to quarantine her.”

  “Wait,” May snapped, stepping close. “You’re feeling warm?”

  Oakley met her steely gaze, nodding. “Yeah. And sick. Fuck, my stomach won’t settle.”

  May’s hand was so nice and cool on her forehead.

  “How long?”

  “Three days,” she repeated, her breath gradually returning to normal. “This is the first time I’ve thrown up, though.”

  “That better?”

  She shrugged. “A little bit. I don’t know. I just want to sleep.”

  May pursed her lips, frowning. “Okay. We’ll hurry home. It could be a concussion, too. Let’s go guys.”

  Brit kept a wary eye on her from the front seat, and Coral was also plastered to the side of the van as they rode back to the commune. Only Em seemed sympathetic, and she put an arm around Oakley, leaning her onto her own shoulder and stroking her temple. Her hand also felt cool, and Oakley closed her eyes for the rest of the ride, dozing off about halfway home.

  “Oakley, we’re here,” a soft voice called her back awake and she sat up, head still fuzzy and uncertain. Em helped her out of the van and kept an arm around her waist as they headed back into the commune.

  Em took Oakley to her bunk, helping her off with her jacket and boots and belt then propping her pillows for her. “I gotta check your pupils, honey.”

  Oakley nodded, letting Em torture her by shining a light right in her eyes.

  “I don’t know. Your pupils are dilating properly. And you were sick before?”

  Oakley nodded. “Yeah. Like I said, I was very warm. It was making me woozy.”

  Em frowned, flicking the little LED penlight off. “I hope you’re not sick. You’d have to sleep in the garage for a while. We can’t have any illness in the commune. No one’s been sick since the bombs, unless it’s been from radiation.”

  “This feels like the flu. But it’s usually gone by the time I go to sleep.”

  Em put her hand on Oakley’s forehead again. That felt so wonderful she moaned, closing her eyes.

  “You’ve been eating?”

  Oakley nodded. “Our work outs. I’ve been starving, gorging myself at every meal.”

  There was a pause and Oakley opened her eyes, catching an odd expression on Em’s face.

  “What?” she whispered. “Is something wrong?”

  Em smiled. “No, we’ll find out what’s going on. Don’t worry. Just get some rest. I’ll see if there’s any ginger root kicking around, make you some tea. Okay?”

  Oakley nodded, smiling. “Thank Em.”

  Em kissed her forehead then left her on her own. Oakley closed her eyes and was asleep again almost immediately.

  Her sleep was deep and dark. When she became aware of someone saying her name she had the impression that they had been at it for quite a while. Oakley blinked awake, turning her head to see Jo and May at her bedside. Jo was sitting on the edge of the cot, May standing next to her. May’s expression was blank; Jo was smiling broadly.

  “Hi,” she grumbled, struggling to sit up. “What’s going on?”

  “Em says you’ve been sick the last few days?”

  Oakley nodded. “Bit of nausea. Usually goes away as the day goes on, but today it didn’t.”

  “You’ve been hungry and tired?”

  Oakley nodded. “Always hungry. I told Em to take easy on me in training for a while.”

  Jo chuckled, May just smiled.

  Jo pressed a warm dry hand to Oakley’s forehead and closed her eyes. Oakley frowned, then looked to May. May was looking at Jo, no help there.

  “Jo—”

  “Shh.” It was short so Oakley did as she was told and shut up.

  After what seemed like a very long time Jo’s eyes opened and she was grinning broadly. “It’s been five weeks since the men left.”

  She didn’t need to be reminded of that. She’d been missing Stone every minute of every day, especially at night. Her dreams were ridiculously graphic, causing her to wake in an extremely frustrated state. She had felt the ache of his absence the second he’d released her after kissing her goodbye sweetly in front of everyone after their final night together.

  Four months was going to be torture without him.

  “You’re sick earlier in the day. And hungry. And tired.”

  Oakley frowned. “Yeah.” What was this about? She’d just told Jo all of this.

  “Honey, I think you’re pregnant.”

  Oakley’s mouth fell open. “What? No I’m not.”

  Jo’s head tilted. “You just told me your symptoms, sweetie. What else could it be?”

  “The flu?”

  Jo smiled indulgently. “People with the flu aren’t hungry.”

  “But…” Oakley’s heart started racing. “But everyone’s sterile.”

  Jo nodded. “Yes, but you were underground when the bombs fell. And so was he.”

  Oakley looked up to May. She didn’t look as thrilled as Jo was. “No, no wait. This…I can’t...”

  Jo chuckled. “It’s a miracle, Oakley.”

  Jo didn’t look shocked or stunned. Jo looked absolutely pleased.

  “You saw this,” Oakley whispered, everything as clear as day suddenly. “You pushed me at him. You saw this.”

  Jo pressed a hand to her cheek now and Oakley was still too stunned to pull away. “Your attraction to each other was your own, but yes. I knew this would be your future. We all have something we’re meant to do, Oakley. And this is yours.”

  Oakley pulled away now, sitting up and scrambling back to cower along the cinderblock wall. “I’m here to breed?” She didn’t like the sound of that at all. It felt like she was being told her purpose was the same as cattle.

  “It’s a miracle,” Joe repeated, smile falling a bit. “You don’t know yet how lucky you are. But you will.”

  This was crazy. The One. She remembered Jo calling her that now. All this time Oakley had honestly hoped she held some divine purpose. She didn’t want to be the commune’s brood mare.

  “I can’t,” she sputtered, tears springing up in her eyes. “I can’t have a baby. Oh God, I can’t.”

  “You’re scared,” Jo keenly observed. “I understand. But we’re here, honey. We’ll take good care of you, we’re here for you. But this baby is coming, honey. There’s no stopping it.”

  “May we should give her a minute,” May suggested softly, hand on Jo’s shoulder. “She needs time to absorb this.”

  You think?

  Jo nodded, gave her one last pat on the cheek and then the two left Oakley on her own.

  She was close to hyperventilation, so she made herself calm down. She just closed her eyes and listened to her breathing, her heartbeat, u
ntil it was easier to get air and her pulse wasn’t deafening her anymore. Then she stretched out on her cot, flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling.

  Her hands slid over her stomach, below her bellybutton, and she took a calming breath. Her respiration moved her hands up and down, and before she knew it she had tears streaming from her eyes down into her hair, soaking into her pillow.

  Oakley felt alone, which was ironic considering what Jo had just told her. If this was true, she wasn’t alone. Not at all. She had someone with her always now.

  She fast-forwarded three more months, when the men were due back. She didn’t allow herself to worry that Stone wasn’t coming back to her, she knew he had to. But now she wasn’t sure if she wanted that. Not that she would wish him dead, just…it would kill her to have him cast her aside. Two days and she honestly felt like he was going to be important to her.

  A baby. A living thing, inside her, and she had no idea where she’d even come from. She remembered nothing about her mother, but then Jo told her that her mother had died shortly after her birth. She ignored the panic that brought up, instead remembering the dream of her father. The love from him, the care she’d felt in that one flash of memory. That was her parenting goal then, assuming everything worked out and this all ended with a healthy baby and her still breathing. Her goal was that her child would know that kind of love.

  Chapter Nine

  One thing Oakley was learning about herself; she didn’t like extraordinary scrutiny or attention. She’d much rather blend in, head down, keeping to her duties just like everyone else. She wasn’t special, except for the way she’d been found by the Gypsy Harts. Other than that, she was just like anyone else.

  Until word of the pregnancy got around, and it did. By the very next morning everyone had found out, and as she left the classroom where she shared sleeping quarters with three other people, there was a line of women, all waiting along the hallway, eyes turning to her unexpectedly as she stepped into the corridor. There was silence, like everyone had collectively held their breath, staring at her.

  Oakley doubted she even looked different than normal, and she sure as hell wasn’t showing yet. So what they were expecting was a mystery to her.

  One woman, whom Oakley hadn’t officially been introduced to yet, stepped forward and took Oakley’s hand in both of hers. “Bless you,” she whispered, eyes filling as her lip trembled. “Bless you, and bless this child.”

  All she could do was stare. The tears got to her admittedly, and she felt the prickle in her nose that meant she could start any time, too. But then another woman came forward, placing her hand on Oakley’s lower stomach and saying the exact same thing.

  It freaked her out.

  She stood in place as all these women came forward to touch her, wish her well, kiss her cheek, her hand, her stomach itself. It was bizarre. All she could do was whisper her thanks to each person.

  It was confusing, but it wasn’t in her to be outright rude about it.

  Then as the women backed off, smiling and stroking her arm or her back something inside her…slipped into a comfortable place. That was the only way she could describe it. Something in her felt okay, at peace with all of it. The night before she’d been feeling sorry for herself, alone.

  She wasn’t, at all. She was exactly the opposite of alone. Smothered in help and hope.

  At breakfast she was beckoned to sit with Jo. The woman took her by the arm and steered her to a table that was for the unofficial leaders of the Gypsies. Usually she would sit with Em, Billie, and Coral, but Jo couldn’t be denied.

  She slid into the chair, back to the front wall of the cafeteria, facing out into the wide arrangement of tables where everyone was lining up and sitting down to breakfast. Oakley wouldn’t swear that they were being stared at, but she could feel more eyes on her than usual.

  “There are certain things you need to be sure to eat now,” Jo was telling her as another woman placed a loaded plate right in front of her. “It’s kind of difficult to get most things, but on the next raids we’ll try to find natal vitamins. In the meantime, we have eggs. The bunker where we found you had a lot of black beans and lentils. We need to make sure you get folate-rich foods. We haven’t tried growing broccoli yet, but they’re planting some today. We found seeds a while ago. We have a goat now so milk isn’t out of the question anymore.” Jo gave a smile when she saw Oakley’s confused look. “What’s wrong?”

  “How long have you been thinking about this?”

  The woman with the expertly applied eye liner laughed. “I told you when you got here, Oakley. You’re the one. I saw this before you were even found.”

  She swallowed and picked up her fork, looking at the fried eggs and black beans on her plate. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, shaking her head. “I just…I don’t think I believe in that.”

  Jo shrugged. “You don’t have to. That baby is coming, right?”

  Oakley shrugged. “If that’s what this is.”

  “It is. You know this. Your appetite, morning sickness, fatigue. And have you bled since we found you?”

  She shrugged again, knowing she probably looked like a sullen teenager. “It’s not like our circumstances of living are normal. I likely haven’t had a period since I went into that coma.”

  “That’s true. Many of us no longer menstruate. But I know in my heart you are pregnant, and the facts add up. The radiation didn’t get a chance to render you, nor Stone, sterile. And now here you are, with all the signs.” Jo lowered her face, making Oakley look at her. “What would you have done if I told you there was a chance you could conceive with him?”

  “I would have stayed away,” she lied. She hadn’t known that everyone was barren until after the fact, but Jo didn’t need to know that. Unless she already did; through that “gift.”

  So it was for her day to day. Every moment people were asking her how she was, monitoring her health for her. She wasn’t allowed to help anymore. While she’d made progress in her strength training, now Em was lowering her weights again and getting her to do more repetitions. She wasn’t allowed on excursions anymore. Whenever she tried to offer help in the kitchens or laundry she was turned away.

  No, the only thing she was allowed to do now was sit with Jo and listen as she dispensed her wisdom to the women who came looking for advice and guidance day to day. Which was interesting, she supposed. It was like a tutorial in motherhood. Jo took a nurturing, caring leadership role with the Gypsies. It was the only motherhood example Oakley really had.

  Plus, the women who went out to loot had started coming back with books, just for Oakley. Some of them were fiction strictly for entertainment, but they’d also managed to find books on pregnancy and child birth.

  The birth books she ignored. She wasn’t ready to educate herself on what to expect there. Not yet. She’d get there, but if there was anyone she wanted to talk to it was Em, with her medical expertise, and some of the women who had given birth.

  And there were a lot of them.

  One by one they’d been coming forward to offer bits of advice and encouragement. As much as she appreciated their sentiments, it was hard to listen to because most of them no longer had their children. They were all, with two exceptions, dead. One of the Gypsys had her sons still with her at the commune, and then there was Susan, the woman they’d rescued in that dusty front yard.

  Susan and Gwen were slowly acclimating to the commune, slower than Oakley had. They joined the others are mealtimes now. During the day the mother, Susan, had remained hidden. But the younger woman, Gwen, was starting to talk to people and had spent some time helping in the kitchen. She still spoke very little, but clearly she wanted to be around people.

  As time went on Oakley had to admit that yes, she was pregnant. She didn’t need any tests or medical confirmations. The sickness in the mornings got worse, and then she was skipping many of her workouts just because she was so bloody tired.

  Then came the tummy.

  She
was doing up a pair of pants one day, a pair of canvas fatigues she had worn many times, and suddenly her stomach seemed just a bit in the way.

  Oakley pressed her hand over the protruding belly, feeling that it was firm. Not flabby, not from weight gain and skipping exercise and sitting around reading. Something was there and it was growing.

  It turned into a ritual at bedtime to lay on her back in the dark, both hands angled under her bellybutton at that soft curve. There was a weird concoction that Brit had whipped up in the kitchen that was mostly animal fat, but she’d somehow also managed to find almond oil, and made a kind of moisturizing balm for Oakley’s stretching skin. She’d slowly rub it onto her stomach while going through all the things she’d have to do to make sure this kid wasn’t entirely fucked up. And she’d try not to think of Stone.

  But he came back in her sleep. She had no choice to change her train of thought when she was sleeping. There he was, blonde and dusty and tanned and absolutely irresistible, his smile blasting her with a shot of heat and lust that her body was quick to catch and ignite from.

  The dreams were vivid. Upon waking she was sure she could still feel the ache between her legs that he’d left there months ago. Her breasts were sensitive as though he’d just been worshipping them, and she was exhausted as though her body had been put to proper use in the most naughty and satisfying ways. Many times she would orgasm in her sleep, waking just before crying out so she could either bite her lip or turn her head to the side so her pillow absorbed her shout. In her more insane moments she wondered if she wasn’t having these dreams simply because he was dreaming of her in the exact same way and that was the reason for the intensity.

  Not a romantic idea, just something that made her feel as though she wasn’t pining away like a school girl.

  As the belly grew so did her fear. There was no backing out, deciding “Yes, this is all very well and good. But that whole birth thing? Can we just skip that part?”

  There were no spinals. No one was here to knock her out and wake her up when there was a baby. No, she was pushing this thing out on her own steam. Em was starting to check her stomach with medical interest, hmming and hahhing while prodding her in the most unpleasant ways. Apparently the baby felt the same way, for it was during one of these examinations that Oakley felt the baby kick for the first time.