Folsom (The End of Men Book 1)

by Tarryn Fisher

  Phoebe helps me down the steps and to the car. She hands me a container with my favorite dessert: lemon cake.

  “Be encouraged and take care of that baby boy. Be on guard day and night,” she says in my ear, trying to keep the worry from her eyes. I know her so well.

  “It helps me just to see your face,” I tell her.

  The cheers are still ringing in my ears when we leave. I’m exhausted but rejuvenated. Everyone in the car is giddy.

  “I didn’t know there were so many,” I say.

  “How often do you leave the upper end?” The driver looks at me knowingly from the rearview mirror.

  Touché.

  The doctor turns around in her seat to look at me. “They’ve been here, Gwen. They have no voice. Much like the End Men. And if you want to create a movement, you find like-minded people and give them a name for their cause. This isn’t just about the End Men. It’s about humanity, like you said.”

  Before I get out of the car, Doctor Hunley reaches for my arm and looks to make sure I’m listening. “Gwen, be careful.”

  I nod. “I’ll do my best.”

  Pippa’s basement room feels especially like a prison cell when I return, but seeing all of those kind faces today…I have a new purpose. What helps the most, though, is holding onto the promise that we will save Folsom and Laticus from the Society soon. Everything will be okay if they are safe.

  Over the next couple of weeks, I write posts and start exposing the facts behind Genome Y, along with a view of my brief time in the compound. Each week, a new tidbit, such as:

  Treatment of the people continues to decline.

  The End Men require drugs to perform multiple times daily.

  Genome Y spent three million dollars last year on the new sperm injection research.

  The numbers of the impoverished grow exponentially in each Region—why are we killing the people on our planet in our efforts to repopulate it?

  Pippa sweeps down to the basement one night, waving her Silverbook. “We need to cut your hairs,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “We can’t have you leaving my presences looking like such menaces.”

  She shows picture after picture of me speaking at what I thought were clandestine meetings.

  “I couldn’t care less about my dull, split-end hair. This means there’s a leak and it could be someone who’s watching our every move!” I glance at the article underneath and go cold. I suddenly feel very small and like I’m not equipped to finish what I started.

  War is coming, it says.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  GWEN

  The smell of grease and garlic, the clatter of silverware and plates, laughter and the banging of doors as customers come and go—these are the sounds and smells of my day. At night, when things grow quiet and Pippa locks up the restaurant, I can’t sleep. I listen to the sound of Laticus breathing, my toes curling and uncurling under the covers, waiting for morning to come. My body is cumbersome, but my mind is not. It races through possibilities: how long can they keep us here before we’re found? Where is Folsom? Will I give birth in this dungeon room with nothing to look at besides these brick walls? The baby kicks at my ribs, little feet stretching. Not much longer now. I can’t bend over, and my feet have swollen so much I can’t fit into shoes. Pippa lends me a pair of hers and I waddle around with pink furry slippers. I wait for the days they tell me there’s a rally. I live for the excitement of sneaking out after it’s dark, being ushered into buildings where women are crammed together, their faces eager and expectant. After a few times of us leaving, Laticus asks to come.

  “We can’t trusts that it’s safe for yous out there,” Pippa explains. “You’re who everyones is looking for.”

  “They’re looking for Gwen too,” he argues.

  “Yeah, to arrest her. They want to sell your manhoods to the highest bidders.”

  “Why is that so bad?” He jumps back in.

  Pippa raises a majestic eyebrow at him.

  “Because if they can do it to yous, they can do it to anyones.”

  He doesn’t argue back.

  “Yeah, thinking about that ones, right? Maybe your mom’s…”

  Laticus blinks at her, the muscles in his jaw twitching.

  “Uh-huh,” she says, looking at me. “They always thinks they know everythings.”

  “Let me come with,” he says. “I’ll wear a disguise.”

  Pippa and I exchange a glance. It’s risky, but perhaps we could pull it off.

  The first time Laticus comes out in a wig and heels, I think I might go into labor right then from laughing so hard. Laticus is not an attractive woman, but once Pippa tones down the makeup, he’s passable for getting into the crowded places without being too noticeable.

  At the first rally, he stands quietly in the back watching the women, seemingly fascinated by their passion. He listens to me too, a slight scowl on his face. When we are back in our room at night, he’s quiet and I don’t press him. I don’t know if it’s making a difference or not, but I’m glad he’s listening.

  Pippa comes downstairs one evening when Laticus has already fallen asleep. She holds a finger to her lips and motions for me to follow her. I’ve not been upstairs into the restaurant very often, just once when Laticus and I snuck up for ice cream. When we reach the dining room, I see that all the lights have been turned off and the parking lot outside is empty. We turn into a kitchen where a Silverbook is on. I stand quietly as she turns up the volume, my eyes already glued to the governor.

  “Good evening, Red Region,” she says, looking directly at the screen. “The wind of change is often met with resistance. Sometimes it can be hard to remember what we’re striving toward once the dissenters confuse the issues with slander and false truths.” She clutches her hands together, the gloves tapping lightly together. “I’d like to remind you exactly how far we’ve come since the epidemic took the men. We’ve been rebuilding—not just the technology we lost, but our crops are now all organic, cancer has dropped by ninety-four percent, the crime rate has dropped so drastically—did you know that our former prisons have been condensed by eighty-seven percent? We’ve found peace. This age of women, the term touted recently, has been an age of progress, and while some have had to sacrifice themselves to help us rebuild, it has been done in a decent and timely order. No one is a slave in this country. We have rebuilt on our terms, and once there are more men in our Regions again, we will keep the progress moving forward. It is not the end of men, but the beginning. We must not decline! To do so would bring an even bigger fall to the age of humanity and we’d be back to a time of disease and war. I urge you, do not listen to these rumblings of dissent and confusion. If we give ear to the voices who have no real evidence to back up the so-called facts, we will not just decline, we will disappear.”

  She pauses, and it’s as if she can see me through the screen, her gaze is so venomous.

  “I’ve asked our Chief of Police to close.”

  Commander Hoffa steps forward and doesn’t bother with a greeting. “There is a warrant out for Gwen Allison’s arrest. Anyone found harboring her will be found in contempt. Contact the alert at the bottom of the screen if you have any information regarding her.”

  A picture of me fills the screen and the alert icon flashes.

  I look up and Pippa stares back with defiance.

  “We won’t let them wins,” she says.

  I’m languidly eating an English muffin with peanut butter and strawberry jelly when Doctor Hunley rushes in. I spot the urgency on her face and my heart lurches into a gallop. Laticus is suddenly next to me, looking between us with concern.

  Pippa labors into the room not seconds after, her breathing ragged. “We have to leave. Quickly. Get your shoes on,” she says to Laticus.

  He nods once and turns to find his shoes. Our questions are stilled by the looks on their faces. Obey now, ask later. Pippa wrings her hands from the corner of the room. There are too many of us in here; it’s making me claustrophobic
. The doctor looks like she wants to say more, but she grabs my arm instead and helps me to the exit. I walk, an easy directive. It’s the only thing I can do. If I need to bend, if I need to crawl, will I be able to? I try to not think about all the things I can’t do.

  I turn around at the top of the stairs, making sure Laticus is following, and Pippa has him by the arm.

  “We have him,” she assures me. “No time for your sasses today, young mans,” she warns him.

  When we reach the last door, Doctor Hunley stops and Pippa moves forward, hugging me.

  “Go with the lights, little warrior,” she says. She smells like onions and I breathe her in for what I sense is the last time.

  I open my mouth to respond, but she turns to Laticus. “Take care of each others, yes?”

  He nods and she swallows him up in a hug.

  “Thank you,” I tell her one last time as we get in the car.

  The light is always so bright as we leave the underground, but today it’s not much different than below. The sky looks like it’s throwing a temper tantrum, dark and brooding with lightning flashing here and there. When we drive a few blocks, the first raindrop hits and hundreds quickly follow.

  We speed through, the driver seemingly oblivious to the rain, and Doctor Hunley sits in the front seat, glancing back at us every few minutes. She says something to the driver in low tones and I sit forward, trying to hear her.

  “Where are you taking us?” I finally interrupt.

  She turns around and I notice how tired she looks. Her nails are bitten down to the quick. I have no idea what she’s been doing these last weeks, how the strain of keeping us hidden has affected her. I reach out and rest my hand on top of hers. She’s been a true friend, even before this started. She looks back at me in surprise and then nods like she knows what I’m thinking.

  “We’re getting you out. Somewhere safe.”

  I look at Laticus who gazes out the car window, eyes glazed over. Teenagers aren’t meant to be holed up in tiny basement rooms for weeks at a time. He looks tense…eager—ready to jump from the car and sprint through the rain. I take his hand and squeeze it hard.

  “Sounds like we’re getting out of here,” I tell him. He nods, mute. I don’t want to scare him. “Just do everything they tell you to do, okay? They’ve been working on a plan for a long time.”

  “Do you think they’ve found Folsom?” he asks.

  “If not today, I think it will be soon,” I whisper. I say this as much for myself as I do for him.

  “We’re close,” the doctor says. “When we step out of the car, move quickly…that’s all you have to do. Okay? Stay calm, and we will have you airborne before you know it.”

  I nod and take a deep breath, looking out the window. I’m afraid. I move slowly, my belly large. If we have to move quickly I’ll slow everyone down. We drive to an abandoned building. I recognize it—it once was a school back when we needed such large institutions to educate our children. The grounds are dark, and I squint to make out our surroundings. The remains of a playground sit collapsed, a lone swing hanging by a single chain. The car drives slowly. I hold my stomach as we bounce around, flinching when we hit the deep ditches. Finally we stop. There are no lights. Everything is bathed in darkness.

  “Gwen? Are you ready?” Doctor Hunley looks at me and lowers her head, eyes always assessing.

  Laticus grips my shoulder and gives me a little shake. “Don’t get scared on me now,” he teases, though I can see in his own eyes that he’s terrified.

  “Never. Let’s do this.” I muster up enough enthusiasm in my voice that he looks relieved.

  Our car doors are opened for us and we step out. I don’t look up at first, too busy seeing who has Laticus. I wish I’d gotten out on his side. The rain has dwindled to a mist, but the wind is picking up. It’s going to pour again soon.

  When I look up, I see my sister. She smiles weakly at me and I freeze.

  “What are you doing here?” I look at her in alarm, backing away. The back of my calves hit the wet steel of the car and I shake my head.

  “I’m here to help,” she says slowly. “I need you to come with me.”

  “What do you mean help?”

  Sophia glances around, irritated. “We don’t have time for this,” she says.

  I stay where I am, fingers pressing into cold metal. I don’t trust her. She sighs.

  “He’s my nephew,” she hisses.

  My eyebrows draw together, and at first I don’t know who she’s talking about. Then I lift a hand to my belly and our eyes meet.

  “I’m a bitch, but I’m not heartless…you think you’re the only one who can be swayed by a cause?”

  She holds out her hand and I only hesitate for a minute before I take it. There are so many questions I want to ask her, but she gives me a look that means I’m to be quiet.

  We move toward the front of the car, where Laticus is waiting, his shoulders hunched forward. Doctor Hunley embraces us both in turn. It’s brief…hurried. There’s more to say but no time.

  “You’ve changed the course of history,” she says to me. “You woke us up...”

  A sound is getting closer: a dull, whopping noise. We all listen, our bodies still.

  Where’s Folsom? Where’s Folsom?

  The blade slap gets closer. I look around the parking lot and something catches my eye—a glint in the grass. Without looking away I lay a hand on the doctor’s arm.

  “There’s someone out there,” I say quietly.

  Before she can respond, the lights from the helicopter appear, glowing eyes in the dark. Our eyes move up to watch as the helicopter hovers over the parking lot. My hair lifts around my face, tendrils snaking across my eyes and mouth. I push it behind my ears, as Laticus presses close to my side. In my peripheral vision, I see movement to our right. While the others stare up at the approaching helicopter, I watch a vehicle appear, driving slowly, headlights off.

  “Doctor Hunley,” I say. But she doesn’t hear me because the chopper is above us now, so loud I can barely hear my own voice. I put my hand on her arm as the car door opens.

  I’m about to shout a warning when I see him.

  Folsom!

  He doesn’t notice me at first, stepping out of the car. I watch his head lift to study the helicopter and I’m given a glimpse of his profile. My heart drops at his appearance. Even in the dark I can tell he’s lost weight. I wave off the mosquitoes that hum around my face and will him to look at me.

  And then he does, his eyes lowering from the sky. Everything stills when he sees me. We’re in a bubble, just the two of us. Not even the rain, or the people, or the beating of the helicopter’s blades can reach us. I run toward him, ignoring the doctor’s calls. Wanting only to touch him, smell his skin. He catches sight of my huge belly and his eyes light up. We’re moving toward each other, only a few yards separating us.

  And then everything turns upside down. First I hear the choked sound of Doctor Hunley as my name is torn from her lips. I turn as a popping sound fills my ears, and I see the doctor fall, her body hitting the ground as she collapses onto her side. I glance back at Folsom, and then run toward her, falling on my knees and into a puddle of her blood. She’s choking, blood coming from her nose and mouth. She convulses once and then her body stills, eyes empty. Sophia pulls me to my feet. She’s yelling something but I can’t make it out. The doctor is dead, the doctor is dead.

  “Come on,” she yells in my ear.

  The helicopter has landed, its lights illuminating the parking lot. It’s then that I see the guards rushing out of one of the buildings, weapons aimed at us. Sophia tugs at my arm, pulling me toward the copter. My eyes search for Folsom and Laticus. Where are they? I can’t leave without them. Oh my God, the guards are shooting at us! I struggle to get away from Sophia to make sure Folsom is still standing. The whites of her eyes spread around her irises in panic.

  The guards keep shooting, but then I see women in civilian clothes coming from the
sides of buildings, shooting at the guards.

  We run toward the helicopter, me holding onto my stomach. A blood-curdling scream stops me. I turn my head just as Sophia goes down. I scream her name and drop to my knees beside her. A steady stream of blood flows from her arm. I press down on it to stop the blood but it rushes through my fingers. A tourniquet! I pull off my shirt and tie it above the wound as she winces and gasps beneath me.

  “You have to go,” she says. “If they catch you—”

  “I’m not leaving you,” I say firmly. More shots pop around us and I lie over her body until it stops. Please, God, please let Folsom and Laticus be all right.

  I need to get her to the helicopter, but I can’t do it on my own. And how long will it wait for us before the pilot thinks it’s too dangerous and leaves?

  “You have to stand up,” I say to Sophia. “I’ll help you get to the helicopter.”

  She shakes her head. “There’s only room for three.”

  Me. Folsom. Laticus. It doesn’t matter. I’m not the one hurt. When they find out my sister was helping us, they’ll throw her in jail. I’m helping her to her feet when Folsom stumbles to us. I want to grab him, kiss his face. No time.

  “She’s been shot. Help her.”

  He doesn’t hesitate before scooping her off the ground. I run beside him as we head for the copter, looking around for Laticus. I see him running toward us, across an open expanse of parking lot. I want to scream at him to keep his head down, move faster, but there’s too much noise. Hands are pulling Sophia into the helicopter. Folsom pushes me forward so I can go next, but I pull away, my eyes on Laticus. I see the glint of something shiny behind him and I scream as the shot is fired. I hear Folsom say his name and then he’s running toward the boy with me following. Laticus falls to his knees, his eyes wide. Folsom reaches him first, catching him before he hits the ground.

  He finds Laticus’ bullet wound, his face blanched of all color. Blood is seeping out of the wound, staining his shirt crimson.