Disorder

by Martha Adele

  The other girl answers the first girl’s question with an even longer and more drawn-out math problem with words that I have never even heard before. They continue to chat about an algorithm when I hear the word “weapon” slide into the conversation. I sit up straight in my bed to see which of the girls have come in and scare the two as they stand by the bunks near me.

  “Oh!” the brunette with the ponytail exclaims in shock. “Sorry! We didn’t know you were in here.”

  Her blonde friend clenches her teeth. She turns from the brunette to me. “Did we wake you up? Sorry!”

  “No, no.” I shake my head to put them at ease. “You’re fine.” The girls stand there awkwardly, not knowing exactly what to do. I slide my legs over to the ladder and let them hang off the bed. Sitting on the top bunk, I look down to the girls. “Out of curiosity, what were you two talking about?”

  The blonde jerks her head upward. “What?”

  “Sorry, I’m not trying to pry.” I scoot backward on the bed a smidge. “It just sounded important.”

  “It’s fine.” The brunette shrugs it off and takes a seat in the bottom bunk across from me. “It’s something you wouldn’t understand.”

  The blonde follows the brunette over and takes a seat beside her. “Tara!” She slaps the brunette’s arm. “That was rude,” she whispers.

  The brunette rubs her arm and smacks the blonde’s. “It wasn’t meant to be!”

  “Hey,” I say, interrupting them, “it’s fine.” It sounded pretty rude, but I need information. I smile and ask as politely as possible, “But I still want to know. What were you guys talking about?”

  The blonde looks up to me, holds her hands up, and starts speaking with them. “We work in one of our technician labs, and we have just gotten intel that Bestellen is working on a new weapon.” Her fingers twitch as she explains the intricacies. “A sort of drone involving tungsten, titanium, steel, and a magnetic field. It—”

  The brunette elbows the blonde in the ribs. “We aren’t supposed to say anything yet.”

  The blonde holds her stomach and looks to the brunette with a glare. The tension between them is undeniable. I guess that’s what happens when you work together all day and then have to come home to a shared room.

  “Oh.” I scoot back onto the bed as more of the girls enter the room. “Okay, I’m sorry I asked.” What I really wanted to say was “Thank you for telling me.” But I didn’t want to stir up anything else between the two.

  The overhead speakers come on just as I get back to my pillow. A man’s voice is projected. “Good evening, Bergland. This is General Wilson. I am pleased to announce that Bloot, Bestellen’s smallest and most Diligent state, has been successfully freed.” I unintentionally jump back up in anticipation.

  Bloot has been freed.

  Where are they? Where is Derek? Where is Uncle Randy?

  Where is Dad?”

  Wilson continues overhead. “All of the freed citizens are getting all of the food and any medical care they need. They will be spending tonight in the bunkers. Bloot citizens, tomorrow morning, you will all need to go to the cafeteria at 7:00 a.m. to get your next meal. You will be given new instructions then. After that, you will have your skill sets assessed, and you will be placed in the position where you can help the most.”

  I hop off the bed and stream past the girls entering the room. I rush out into the hallway and past all of the girls and boys that live in this hallway, who seem to be surprised to see me running. Once I weave through the crowds and make it through the maze of hallways, I see two guards at the end of the hall by the elevator.

  As I try to get past the guards to the stairwell, Wilson’s voice slows down, and he says one of his ritual speech endings: “That will be all for now. Good night and good morrow. May our hard work pay off.”

  The guards see me as I turn the corner. “Hey!” one of them calls out to me.

  I ignore his shout and head for the stairwell, but the hall I turn to has even more guards patrolling.

  “Hey!” the guard calls out again. After I ignore him for the second time, he shouts to the others, “Stop her!”

  I can’t get my words together to explain. I am from Bloot. My family may or may not be alive. I just want to know.

  Two of the guards grab me, one on each arm. They shove me against the wall and scream in my face. “What are you doing?”

  I am trying to explain, but all that is coming out is “I … my family … I have to speak to … Bloot …” I continue to try to explain, but nonsense comes out as I wheeze, unable to steady my breath.

  I thrash and jerk, trying to get away from the guards. I have to know if Derek is okay. I have to know if Uncle Randy is okay. I have to know if Dad is here.

  One of the guards pulls out a vial from his vest pocket and stabs me in the leg. I look down to see what looks like the same medicine, but a different color, draining into my leg. The green jelly leaves its vial within seconds. I look up to the guards, now trying to ask what medicine they just gave me, but I become much too tired to open my mouth. Soon, too tired to fight the guards.

  Sam

  Early.

  It’s too early.

  Why do we have to get up at seven thirty in the morning every morning? According to Caine and Grayson, they got to sleep in according to their work schedule; but since we are at war, we have to all “work harder than ever.” The only time Logan ever complained about it being too early was the first morning we were here, and that’s only because he didn’t get any sleep.

  Grayson, being our room’s supervisor, wakes us all up and makes sure we are ready to go. Without the squeaking of Logan’s bed above me, I find it much harder to get up. I spent half the night hoping Logan returned to Bergland safely and the other half drooling on my pillow.

  “Well, good morning, sunshine.” Caine walks by my bed and chuckles at me as my eyes flutter open, and their morning crust falls to the pillow. “Ready for breaky?” He snorts.

  I wipe off my eyes and the dried drool from my mouth and watch him head out of the room, leaving Grayson and me alone.

  He sits on his bottom bunk a few feet away from me. “Are you ready?”

  “No,” I whine. “But that doesn’t matter, does it?”

  Grayson chuckles and shakes his head. I get up and make my bed, and we all head up the stairs to the cafeteria after completing our normal morning routines. The whole way up the stairs, I listen to Caine and Grayson talk about where they are assigned to help.

  “Yeah, they assigned me to Meer, the aquaculture state,” Caine brags. “Besides Metropolis and Verwend, Meer is the hardest state to penetrate.” He chuckles and starts walking backward up the stairs so that he can face Grayson and me. “Since Meer is one of the first states we have to capture, I’m not surprised they chose the best soldiers.”

  “Of course that’s why they chose you,” Grayson says, chuckling, “not because they need a body to throw at the opposition or anything.”

  Caine pauses on the stairs. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Oh, nothing.” Grayson smiles as we pass him. They continue jeering at each other as we make it up the hundreds of stairs. Caine seems to be proud that he was drafted. He keeps bragging about how he is being sent off to his death.

  I only catch bits and pieces of their conversation. My mind is preoccupied with other things. Too many other things. I can’t stop wondering if Logan is okay and how Mavis is handling all of this. And what about Henry? Did he feel any pain from the blast?

  Did he die immediately or from bleeding after being injured?

  If they got to him soon enough, would he have been able to be saved?

  Would the vials have helped him?

  The vials.

  I need to head by the hospital and get more vials. I am running low.

  We make it up to the cafeter
ia just as the shift change occurs. It’s madness. I have never seen so many people in here. Half of the people are wearing the newcomers’ clothes that Logan, Mavis, and I wore our first day here. I watch as they shuffle through the groups of people coming in for the official first breakfast shift. Half of the Berglanders in this room are stopping the Bloot citizens to talk to them. It’s obvious the Bloot have places to go. The Berglanders need to leave them …

  “Hey, sunshine.” Caine nudges me in the arm as I find myself staring into the group of girls that have been asking about Logan and me. This time, all of the girls are focused on something in the center of their group instead of me. “Do you have a little crush?”

  “What? No,” I answer, not pulling my gaze away from the group. One of the girls on the end catches me looking at them and tells the group. They immediately become giddy and start squirming within their group. They part so that the whole group can see me and reveal a newcomer within the circle. Tall, fit, and gorgeous. This girl has obviously been pulled aside by these girls to be interrogated about Bloot. The newcomer’s hair is cut short to her head. It’s just a little bit longer than mine, but it looks so much better. It’s a dark and silky brown that matches her eyes and tan skin.

  “Are you certain?” Grayson nudges me in the other arm. “You sure seem to fancy someone over there.”

  The girl’s eyes meet mine, and for a split second, I swear she blushes.

  In response to her blush, I blush. I stupidly blush. What purpose does that have? Why do we blush? What’s the point? To embarrass us and make us blush more?

  Caine grabs my shoulders and squeezes them tight. “Dude! You totally like someone over there.”

  Say it a little louder, would you?

  Our eyes break apart as the girl gets swept away with another crowd of newcomers. As I look to see if I can find her in the crowd, I see Mavis weaving through. Her eyes are large, and her expression is one of madness as she looks crazily through the crowd. Caine and Grayson follow my gaze to see Mavis spinning around, looking for someone.

  Caine points over to her and chuckles, “What’s wrong with blondie?”

  Ignoring his question, I leave Grayson with Caine and shove through the crowd to get to Mavis. She looks through me as she spins around, still focusing on her goal.

  “Mavis!” I grab her shoulders and look to her face. Her green eyes seem even greener with how small her pupils have become. “Mavis, what are you doing?”

  She stutters out something that doesn’t make sense, still looking around the room frantically.

  I shake her shoulders and get her to look me in the eyes. “Mavis, what is wrong?”

  “Bloot …” She pauses a moment to gather her words. “I am looking for my uncle Randy and my dad.”

  “Okay. Easy enough.” I release her shoulders and cuff my hands around my mouth and shout, “Uncle Randy!” Mavis quickly punches me in the arm. Her bony knuckles combined with her being unnaturally strong makes her punch very effective. “Ow!”

  “Shut up!”

  “What?” My hands drop, and I rub my new bruise. “Why?”

  Mavis scratches at one of her arms and looks around the room nervously. “I want to find Uncle Randy first. Calling his name out like you did will attract not only him, but my dad too.”

  “Why don’t you want to see your dad?”

  She stops scratching as her fist clenches. The only word I can use to describe her face as she looks away from me is “terrified.”

  “Mave, are you okay?”

  “It-it’s not that I don’t want to see him. It … it …”

  “Hey.” I take her hand to get her to stop tearing at her arm. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain. I’ll help look for Uncle Randy.”

  She turns back to me and sniffles, somehow sucking the tears back into her eyes. “Thank you.”

  “What does Uncle Randy look like?”

  “Um … tall. Taller than you. Um …” She looks around in the crowd. “Curly red hair. He’s pretty muscular too.”

  After a pause, I ask Mavis what her dad looks like. She describes him to be about as tall as me, but with a large beer belly. “The little hair he has left is blond and on the sides of his head.” She goes on to describe the greasiest-looking person I can imagine.

  Mavis and I split up into the crowd and look around through all of the newcomers. I see redheads, but the few I see are too short to be Uncle Randy. I see blonds, but none that meet the description of her dad.

  I continue scurrying through the crowd when I see a tall muscular curly-haired redhead talking to a recruiter. It has to be him.

  “Hey, I’m sorry.” I run over to them and interrupt their conversation. “You.” I pull the redhead back a bit to see his face. The freckles splattered across his face are something that most redheads have, but his eyes are not. His eyes are blue, like mine, but have a hint of purple in the center. Distracted by this odd mutation of his, I pause.

  When he turns his body to me, I see one of his forearms bandaged up with a small amount of blood coming through. He looks over to the recruiter, then back to me. “Yes?”

  “Sorry.” I shake my head, trying to get back my focus. “Is your name Randy?”

  Before he can answer, Mavis comes out of the crowd behind him. Her face lights up with a smile as she scurries over. The redhead in front of me notices I’m looking past him and turns around. Mavis’s smile fades of brightness but remains a smile still. They both pause where they are and stare at each other for a moment.

  She says something under her breath, and they both leap into each other’s arms. “Mavis!” the redhead croaks.

  They stay embraced as they talk into each other’s neck and shoulders. “Derek,” Mavis mutters into his shoulder, “you’re okay!”

  He nods and moves one of his hands onto the back of her head. “Yeah. I’m fine. I’m fine. You … you’re okay too.” Derek clears his throat and squeezes her tighter. “We thought you were dead.”

  “I’m fine.” Mavis asks him, “Randy? Dad? Are they here?”

  Derek shakes his head as she sets hers directly underneath his chin. He takes a deep breath. “Randy went back for your dad during the riots. Neither of them came back.”

  She nods, placing her head against his chest as tears stream down her face.

  “I tried …” Derek whimpers to her, closing his eyes and trying to keep his tears in. “I tried to get your dad out, but …” He sniffles and chokes back whatever he was planning to say. “And then I tried to keep Randy from going back.”

  Mavis rubs her thumb on his bandaged forearm, where her hand had been resting. She pulls her head back and looks to his wound. “What happened here?” She looks up to him. “Was it from the riots?”

  He freezes. Not saying anything at all, he brings one hand up to her cheek and strokes the scar below her left eye with his thumb. Mavis takes his silent answer and nods quickly, squeezing her eyes closed to try to keep in the tears.

  She takes a deep and shaky breathe. “What about your mom?”

  “I don’t know.” Mavis sets her head into his chest, and he rests his chin on top of her head once again. “She was transporting something to Minje during the revolt.” They freeze in each other’s arms, trying to get a grip on reality.

  “Excuse me.” The recruiter taps Derek on the shoulder. “You guys need to go ahead and wrap this up.”

  They pull apart slowly. Mavis nods to the man and tells him it’s okay and to go ahead with the recruiter. He obeys and pulls away.

  I make my way over to her and stand by her side as a few tears escape her eyes. I want to comfort her, but I can tell she doesn’t want to be comforted. At least not by me.

  The recruiter says something about the Taai to the redhead and pulls him away. The two get lost in the crowd, and Mavis turns on her heel. I follow as she dashes into
the kitchen. With silent tears running down her face, she slides down the empty wall in the far corner, away from all the morning madness. She wheezes as she sobs into her hands. I want to help her, but this may be something she wants to handle on her own.

  I handled my dad’s death on my own, and I’m fine.

  One of the workers takes notice of Mavis’s condition and rushes over. Before I can say anything, she pulls a vial out of her pocket and stabs Mavis in the thigh. The worker tosses the empty vial in a trash can and moans as she straightens back up into a standing position.

  The rush of watching all of this happen within seconds stirs me.

  Mavis looks up to the worker with pink eyes. I can’t tell if the pink is from the medicine or from the tears. “Why did you do that?” she whines to the worker. “I was fine!” She sniffles and calms down.

  She leans into the wall behind her as the worker chuckles. “Fine? Tell that to the tears streaming down your face.”

  Somehow, she manages to curl her legs up and scoot away from the worker. Mavis mumbles something under her breath about not being able to feel, but I miss what she says because I am off thinking about something else. I am thinking about the vials.

  I am running really low. My case is almost empty.

  I scoot away from Mavis to let her enjoy her newfound sense of relaxation, and I go up to Sarah, who is working at one of the service lines. “Am I allowed to go to the hospital right now?”

  Sarah shoots me a puzzled look over her shoulder. “Now?” She plops some of the food onto a young man’s tray. “Yes, but you’ll miss breakfast!”

  I thank her and head out. I’m not really hungry anyway.

  After retrieving my case from my room, I make it through Bergland with the help of several different elevators going both horizontally and diagonally and get to the hospital in under ten minutes. The glass doors of their lobby slide open for me as I make my way in. Lucky for me, I come to the smallest section of the hospital that deals only with prescriptions. If I had gone to any other section, I assume it would be flooded due to all of the Bloot.