by S. K. Falls
"Hmm." She walks around me in a wide circle until she is before me once more. Is it my imagination or do her eyes linger on my stomach? I am immeasurably thankful for the shapeless fit of the wool tunic I am made to wear. "Do you find Great Land to your liking?"
I squeeze the brim of the hat, try to put the dizzying fear I feel into that gesture and not have it show on my face. "Of course, madam. You, all the Monitors, have been very generous."
Her smile slips off her face. "Then get back to work. No more breaks today. Okay?"
"Yes." As she watches, I walk away as quickly as I can, making sure my gait is strong and sure. Inside, I think: Does she know? What was that exchange really about? Have they singled me out already—are the pregnancy tests just a farce to keep me in the dark? I want to cry, but I tell myself that is ridiculous. I have to focus on my work for now; there’s not much else I can do at the moment.
When I get back, Ceres looks at me, a small line between her eyes. "A-All...right?"
"Yes. Let's work." I keep my eyes on the muddy water.
For five minutes, we work without speaking. Then she whispers, "Are y-you afraid?" Clearly she is worried about me, about the news we’ve received regarding the pregnant fugitive.
I glance at her sidelong, but she keeps her gaze on her hands. I do the same as I respond. "No. It’s all going to be fine."
"H-he...he has...a plan?"
I know who she means—Shale. It is sweet that she trusts him so much, but it also breaks my heart. Her trust is so childlike and innocent, so absolute. Does she think he has the solution no matter what the situation? I shake my head.
For a long time, she doesn't say anything. The wind works its magic on the fields, making the water ripple gently, whispering to us as we work. Then, quietly, she says, "I have...a p-plan."
My hands still for a moment, but I keep my gaze ahead. "A plan?"
Ceres whispers, "R-run...away." Her golden eyes flash in the soft sunlight, turning them to fire. "W-we could b-be...no-nomads. Gyp-gypsies. I c-can help you raise...the b-baby."
I smile while I remain looking downward at the crops, and tears fall on my hands, stinging the cuts there, the raw skin. I know what it has taken for her to get that thought across. I imagine her on her cot, tired after a long day’s laboring in the fields, working painstakingly through a detailed plan. "I’m so glad you want to help, Ceres, but it won't work. Not in this country. We won't get far that way. And they'll always be looking for us. Always."
"Then...wh-what are we...going t-to do?" Her voice trembles; she is distraught. I am reminded again of Elara's offer, of how young Ceres is, just how vulnerable. And what stings more than that is the naked trust in my sister’s voice.
I reach over and grip her hand tight. I wish I could do more—I wish I could whisk her away somewhere safe, somewhere new. Instead, I try to convey how much I love her, how much I need her to be brave, through touch. "I don't know yet. But I promise I'll work it out." I imagine a big clock hanging over me, ticking down the seconds. Only three more days until Elara expects an answer to her impossible request.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
As the lines of men and women wind down the road, moving slowly and painfully like injured animals, I keep an eye on our window to see if Shale passes by. But he doesn't. With every passing minute, my pulse races faster and faster. Has he been captured? Did the Monitors have information on him they were keeping to themselves? Should I take Ceres and run? But just as I am seriously considering it, when the sun has set and the air has turned to crisp ice, I see him limp past. I rush to the door, speechless.
His shirt is torn and bloody where his mostly-healed wounds have opened up again. He seems unable to pick up his feet, so he drags them instead, as if he is shackled. He is filthy, covered in dirt and sweat.
"Shale." I rush to his aid.
He stops and turns to look at me, a half-smile on his face.
"What's happened to you? Did the Monitors do this?"
"No," he answers, his voice feeble. "I just need...to sit."
He tries to walk again, but he stumbles, as if his body refuses to carry his own weight any longer. I hurry forward, grab one of his arms, and sling it around my shoulders. Then I walk him carefully to his wopung, my mind teeming with questions.
Inside, I set him down cautiously on his cot and remove his shoes so he can lie down. Then I hurry to get bandages and water for his bleeding wounds.
I set the water bowl and rags beside me as I help Shale take his shirt off. I try not to gasp when I see his scabbed-over wounds open, oozing blood and a clear liquid. Gritting my teeth, I wet a rag and press it to the wound. I hate the quick inhalation from him, but I cannot help it; the wound has to be cleaned and the bleeding stopped. "Tell me what's happened."
Shale sighs. When he speaks, his voice is low, controlled. "I asked around and was told Gabbro knew someone who could help us get a place in another, less-monitored compound. So I went to speak to him."
I know Gabbro. I dislike him intensely, though Trigger and Ananke have mentioned before that they’ve used him for information. He’s been here much longer than us, and is valuable for his more established connections. But what struck me most about him was how much he looked like a weasel—a little animal in New Amana that survived the War. Though it has suffered mutations, it's retained its beady eyes from before. Something about his nature told me that his first and only allegiance was to himself. He wasn’t working for the greater good like Trigger or Ananke.
"Why would Gabbro do this to you?" The man is much smaller than Shale. I cannot believe he would be able to do so much damage, let alone that he’d have a reason to.
Shale shakes his head and grimaces as I press the wet rag to another one of his wounds. "He said he does have the contact, but that he'd only give it to me as a trade."
I stare at him for a long time. Something deep inside me begins to pulse with rage. "And what did he want for this ‘trade’?"
"He wants me to do his part of rebuilding the wall." Shale doesn't meet my eyes as he says it. He shifts on the cot, wincing at the movement. "When the Monitors came by, he'd act like he was working, but when they were gone...” He shrugs. “It's why I'm late. We aren't allowed to leave until we're finished with our assigned quota. He insisted I do his first."
The TV blares on; it’s eight o’clock. Ignoring it, I turn back to Shale, trying to take in deep breaths and let them out slowly so my anger will dissipate somewhat before I speak. "You can't do that," I say finally. My voice is low and dark, like the fallout particles that hung close to the ground in New Amana. "You’re still recovering from being shot. Besides, what if you fall behind in your work every day? What are the Monitors going to say? Do you think the only punishment will be you having to stay late if it happens often enough?"
I stride to the closet, pull a clean tunic free, and hand it off to Shale. He puts it on gingerly, every movement restricted because of the pain. When he looks up at me, his eyes are too bright. "What choice do we have, Vika? Should we just hope they don't find out more about this pregnant fugitive? Should we take Elara’s offer so you never see me again? Will you be able to forget me so easily?"
I have never seen Shale so distraught, so obviously raw with emotion. It confounds me; I am unsure what to do. But then, without my having thought about it, my arms are around him, my body reacting to his pain without my brain being a part of the decision.
I cradle him against me, as if he is a small child in need of protection. "How do you forget a part of yourself? You don't. You simply find a way to reunite. If any two people have a chance at reuniting, Shale, it's the two of us. In spite of everything, we're here now, aren’t we? We're here, and you know we have no right to be. We should both be dead, a long time ago."
He pulls away from me. My arms are suddenly cold. His eyes are hard when he looks back at me. "You're right, we should. I lost you once before and I'm not doing it again. I'm giving you a different choice to keep our family safe
because Elara's option is not an option at all."
I stare at him. "But killing yourself by doing the work of two men is?"
He doesn't answer, and I know we have exhausted this conversation for now. I stand. "I should get back to Ceres."
He nods once.
◊ ◊ ◊
The rest of the week my every sense is tuned to Shale and what he might be doing. More names have been called for the pregnancy testing, but not me, not yet. In my distracted state, I almost don't complete my own quota in time and have to work harder and faster at the end of one of my shifts, which means I am exhausted and emotional when I get home. I know Shale has stayed late—as he has almost every other day this week—because he isn't there when I return. I am fuming; I am scared.
I can’t sit still with all of the nervous energy coursing through my veins. We don’t have training today, so, after I make sure Ceres has food, I put my coat on and head outside. I begin to walk, deeper and deeper into the compound. The sky changes colors as I race past wopung and lampposts, deepening from a gold-tinted raspberry to a wicked, bruised purple. I duck into doorways when I see Monitors; blue sentries in the encroaching darkness.
Finally, when my heart is pumping furiously and my brain has quieted somewhat, I turn back toward my wopung. By the time I pass by Shale’s on the way there, my feet ache, swollen as they are in my shoes. In spite of the cold, I am sweating. But Shale has returned. I stand by the small square window like a silent shadow, watching him bent over on his cot. I won't go in; there is nothing to say that we haven't already said. Watching him now, so obviously in pain he tries so hard to hide from me, pale and sick, I am certain of one thing: I have to seriously consider Elara’s offer.
◊ ◊ ◊
After I have bathed and cried and changed my clothes, my hair dripping cold water down my back, I sit on my cot, staring at nothing. Ceres sings softly as she washes the dishes from which we have eaten. She doesn't let me do anything to help her in the house, insisting that I might hurt the baby. It hurts my heart too much to tell her that the baby is in much greater danger from something I cannot control.
But it doesn't have to be, does it? Elara can solve that for us.
I notice a shadow at the door without registering what it is. After a moment, when it grows longer, I look up. It's Shale. After one look at me, he goes to Ceres and whispers something. She nods and smiles at me before skipping out the door.
"Where—"
"I asked if she'd mind spending some time with Ananke at her wopung while we talked." Shale sits heavily beside me on the cot. I move over so he can lean back; I know he must be in pain. We recline side by side, breathing in tandem.
After a moment of silence, he speaks quietly. “The Monitors caught Gabbro passing his work off to me.”
I turn to look at him sharply. “What happened?”
“They let me off with a warning, but they took him away for a lashing. When he returned, he said he can’t do it anymore. Next time they’ll execute him.”
I let this information sink in. Shale’s last-ditch attempt at getting information about the new compound was unsuccessful. But didn’t I expect it would be anyway? It only strengthens my resolve. I’ll have to tell Elara yes. I close my eyes against the tears, the grief, the pain.
Then I feel Shale move. My eyes fly open; he has turned to face me. I turn too, so our faces are inches apart. I can't help but wonder at the fact that we are breathing the same few breaths of air between us. His eyes have never been brighter. I'm thinking that I've never truly seen eyes before, not like this, when he says quietly, "I love you, Vika Cannon."
I stare at him, completely stunned into silence. We have never said those words to each other. I wonder how long it has been since a New Amanian male has said them to a New Amanian female. The word "love" thrills me in a way I didn't expect. It's such a quiet word, just a single syllable uttered as a caress, a soft biting of the lip. I stare at Shale's mouth, fascinated by the way it has confessed this feeling to me, completely turning my world upside down.
He reaches over and smoothes something off my cheeks and it is only then I realize that tears have run down them. "I don't know what that looks like between a man and a woman,” he continues. “And I know you don't either. But that's okay because I love you from a quiet place inside myself. It's all I know how to do and so it comes naturally for me. I don't know if it's wrong to want to take care of you and the baby and Ceres, to keep you safe, to protect you, but that's exactly what I want. I don't know how it grew inside me this way, Vika, but somehow, what I feel for you has coated my inside, my every essential organ, until it is all that makes sense anymore. If you..." Here he stops and trails off, swallowing compulsively. Then he meets my eye again. "If you want to live with Elara because you feel you have to, like that's your only chance to keep this family safe, I want you to know it's not. I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. We'll make it work. Because my life is as good as over without you in it. Without you and Ceres and the baby, there is no purpose to anything." He takes my hands, and I feel his—coarse, hard, cut in several places—tremble. His skin is hot against mine, so alive. "Please say something."
But I don't.
I simply fuse my lips to his, kissing him. His skin tastes like honey, sweet and warm. My hands grasp at him, pulling him closer, so our bodies are cradling our baby between us. His hands are in my hair, cupping the back of my neck, trailing down my back. It is as if he wants to touch every part of me just to feel that I am really here.
When we pull apart, we are both smiling. And that is how I know there is just no way I can leave to go stay with Elara: because this is happiness. A life in China as fugitives, with officials closing in on us, death on the horizon—and we are smiling because we are in love.
"I have some ideas about what we could do," Shale says.
I put my finger to his lips. "Tell me later." I put my head against his chest and listen to his heart.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
The next evening, after we are back from training, I pace the room. Though I am exhausted, I am full of a bubbling sort of anxiety. Ceres watches from her cot, pensive. She knows something is going on, but doesn’t ask what. It’s for the best; I want her to be as distanced from all of the decision-making as possible. She is only a child.
I suck in a breath and let it out as I walk from the small closet to the tiny kitchen and back. Tonight I have to tell Elara that I am going to decline her offer in spite of the danger. Shale has a plan, and he will fill me in on it later. I have a feeling Elara will not take it well.
There is a quiet knock at the door. I open it to find Trigger on the other side. I look at him in confusion—we aren't supposed to be at the depot until later—but he hands me a slip of paper. Then, without saying anything, he keeps walking. I close the door and unfold the note. It says:
Elara has asked you to bring Ceres tonight. Meet at the depot as usual. Burn this note in the stove when finished reading.
I do as he asks, my hands shaking as I stare into the orange flames licking at the small, curling scrap of paper. Why does Elara want me to bring Ceres? And even if she does, it doesn’t mean I have to comply. I could leave her here. But I know it will only anger Elara more. She cannot possibly want to hurt Ceres, not after she lost her young daughter. And between me and Shale, Ceres will be well protected. There is no point in antagonizing Elara more than I already will by refusing her offer.
I turn to Ceres and try to smile a normal smile. "I think you should come with me tonight, where I’m going."
She looks up from the cot where she has been leaning back, braiding her hair. "W-Why?"
I shrug, trying to keep my voice light. "The woman in charge wants to meet you."
Ceres's golden eyes are uncertain. "But...why?"
I go to her and smooth her hair. "I don't know. But I promise Shale and I will keep you safe. Okay?"
She nods, but that hesitation doesn't leave her eyes. As the hour for u
s to leave draws closer, she balls into herself, her face closed off. I can see that she is scared. Perhaps being summoned without having any idea of what to expect reminds her of the Asylum, of its unexpected horrors. I keep my arm around her and try to get her to speak to me, but her answers are curt and mechanical. I am sick to my stomach.
When Shale comes to pick me up, we step outside. He looks askance at Ceres.
"She wants to meet her," I say softly.
His face tells me he doesn't like this any more than I do. He squeezes Ceres's arm in a show of support, but she doesn't respond. A small frown line settles between Shale's eyebrows. We walk together, three silent shadows under the glittering stars.
◊ ◊ ◊
Trigger waits for us by the truck in the depot, shadows pooling under his eyes from the dim lighting. He smiles at Ceres, but it’s barely a twitch of the lips.
"Why does Elara want to see her?" I ask quietly.
“I don’t know.” Trigger looks at Ceres thoughtfully. “P’rhaps it's because she's close to the age her daughter would've been if she'd lived?"
I still don't understand why that would make her want to meet my sister. But I can see I'll just have to wait to find out. Shale puts a protective arm around Ceres’s thin shoulders and smiles. “How about you show Ceres where she’s going to be seated during the drive?”
Trigger hops up on to the trailer and holds a hand out to Ceres. He’s trying to be jovial for her sake, and I appreciate it more than he knows. “Ah. Now this you have to see, little miss.” Once she’s clambered up after him, he leads her to the crate with the false front. Switching on his flashlight, he illuminates the space. “You see? It’s actually a small room. Think it’ll be comfortable enough?”
Ceres smiles wanly and sits with her back against one of the crates’ sides. Even the newness of being in the truck can’t bring her to life. Trigger squeezes her shoulder and then comes back out to where Shale and I have been standing, watching the two of them. “If I thought she was in any danger, I wouldn’t have you take her.” His expression is earnest and warm.