Nine-Tenths

by Meira Pentermann

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The daunting cement wall appeared to grow substantially as they approached the gate. A steel door stood at least fifteen feet tall, and it was wide enough to cover two of the westbound lanes.

  A stocky female guard, flanked by two men with rifles in firing position approached Leonard’s vehicle as he slowed near the gate. These were no Department of Transportation and Safety employees. Definitely military personnel. Leonard glanced at Natalia as he rolled down the window. She held the IDs and her green pass firmly in her fingers, an expression of resolution on her face.

  Time to step up, Leonard. You’re a VIP. These guards are insignificant in relation to the esteemed Dr. Robert H. Cook, he told himself, although he had modest doubts.

  “Excuse me, sir,” the woman said authoritatively. “Only authorized personnel are allowed in this area.”

  Leonard casually retrieved the IDs and minor’s pass from Natalia’s dainty hands and passed them to the guard, maintaining a bored, haughty expression.

  The guard examined the IDs carefully.

  “Could you step out of the car, Dr. Cook?”

  “Why?”

  “I need you to take a retina scan.” She indicated a stationary device in a kiosk a few feet away.

  Forcing himself to ignore the armed guards, which made him insanely nervous, Leonard slipped out of the car and approached the kiosk.

  “And my niece?” he asked nonchalantly.

  The female guard studied Natalia’s green pass. “Not necessary.”

  Leonard completed his retina scan and faced the guard. She consulted a computer mounted to the kiosk. A few seconds later, she nodded.

  “Is there anything else?” Leonard inquired, a cool, mocking tone in his voice.

  “Where are you going this evening, Dr. Cook?”

  “Where am I going?” He scowled menacingly. “Where do you think I’m going?”

  “Why are you visiting the infirmary?”

  “That is none of your business.”

  “I’m sorry, sir. I have to ask.”

  Pleased that his arrogant demeanor garnered a reluctant respect, Leonard responded confidently. “I’m visiting a patient.”

  The guard typed a note on her computer. “And the girl?”

  “She’s visiting a friend.” Not wanting to refer to a nonexistent relative, the idea entered his subconscious and slipped out before he could consider it. In retrospect, it seemed rather foolish to propose that a thirteen-year-old girl might have a friend in the infirmary, but the words escaped and it was too late to recall them.

  The guard frowned, but to Leonard’s surprise, it was a frown of deep sorrow. She gazed at Natalia and shook her head sadly. “You may proceed,” she said, steadying her voice and lifting her head with dignity.

  Leonard turned to go.

  “Wait,” she called.

  Leonard did an about face, his heart pounding.

  “You realize the time, sir?”

  “Do I look like an idiot?”

  “You will not be allowed to return after sunset.”

  “Naturally. We will be staying over.” Leonard prayed that such an explanation was acceptable.

  The guard nodded softly, her eyes on Natalia. “Very well then.” She marched back to her post and motioned for someone to unlock and open the gate.

  As they passed through the barrier, Leonard watched in his rearview mirror. The guards, no longer interested in the Toyota and its occupants, hastily closed and locked the massive fortress.

  ***

  After ten miles, Leonard caught sight of a roadblock that forced them off I-70 and onto Highway 40. More upturned vehicles and piles of rubble made the way impassable. As Leonard maneuvered the car onto the exit, he glanced to his left. Beyond the blockade, I-70 looked vastly different. The road was already deteriorating like the route to a ghost town.

  “Unbelievable,” he whispered.

  “Huh?”

  Not wishing to burden his daughter with the despair he felt in seeing a once productive, heavily populated interstate reduced to ruins, he merely mumbled, “Nothing.”

  Vehicles or rocks barricaded all exits and crossroads along Highway 40, so Leonard continued on dutifully, wondering how far they would travel before they reached the infirmary. Given the desolation of the area, it would not be unreasonable to fetch some of Alina’s stashed gas supply if necessary.

  Just as he was making rough calculations in his head, they rounded a bend and he saw the first glimpse of the infirmary in a town formerly known as Empire, Colorado. Tall buildings surrounded by chain-link fences dotted the area. Watchtowers on the outlying hills implied that the facility spread beyond the city, appearing to weave its way deep into the valleys to the west and to the south, as well as up the mountain to the north.

  A cavity in the side of the mountain was swarming with tens of thousands of little orange dots — some creeping up; others floating down, creating an optical illusion that made it difficult to estimate the crater’s location and size. What were those dots? If they were some kind of beetle, the crater must be very close, even though it appeared to be miles away.

  Along the road they passed dozens of fortified prisons, one after another, enclosed by chain-link fencing and razor wire. Only a few unfenced buildings were accessible just off the side of the highway, presumably administrative offices. Leonard decided not to stop unless asked, and he continued driving as if he belonged and knew where he was going.

  He flinched suddenly when he noticed several men dressed in orange jumpsuits behind one of the enclosures. His brain immediately made the connection. The tens of thousands of orange dots he witnessed swarming in the cavity were prisoners working in a mine. Leonard tried to swallow but his throat felt dry.

  Around the bend, he caught sight of another group of prisoners, chained together, shuffling along on the shoulder. Armed guards flanked them, walked quietly, almost bored. Difficult to discern the gender of the prisoners, the somber individuals appeared physically battered and emotionally broken. Leonard looked away, willing the prisoners not to impress themselves upon his conscience.

  Natalia covered her mouth and began to cry. Leonard glanced at his frightened daughter. Tears streamed down her face as she digested the bitter sight.

  “There’s nothing we can do, Nat,” Leonard said gently.

  She sniffled and wiped her eyes. “Can’t we help them escape?”

  “We’ll be lucky if we can make it out just the two of us.” The moment the words left his mouth, he chastised himself. That’s comforting, Leonard.

  Natalia let out a muffled sob.

  He stammered, unsure of what to say next. “But you and I…we have a great plan…a load of supplies, and the will to survive.”

  She turned away.

  “We can do this.”

  No response.

  They drove on. Fewer and fewer prison structures lined the road until it was just trees and hills and the distant view of a pointed mountain. An occasional crop of abandoned buildings whizzed by. Otherwise, no signs of civilization.

  No one appeared to be following them. Leonard breathed a sigh of relief, although the skeptic within him wondered if it had been too easy.

  Ten minutes later, just after they passed an assortment of deserted houses at Berthoud Falls, they approached a huge switchback. Leonard decelerated.

  “Dammit,” he shouted.

  Natalia sat up.

  Before them, a massive barricade built out of eighteen-wheelers and rock piles blocked their way. Leonard came to a screeching halt and slammed his hands repeatedly on the rim of the steering wheel.

  “Dammit, dammit, dammit.”

  Natalia said nothing, her gaping mouth incapable of forming words.

  Leonard backed up two hundred feet very quickly and swerved left onto the only turnoff, Henderson Mine Road. But a few hundred feet in, they faced another blockade, this one made of rubble and trees. They were trapped. No vehicle, not even a Jeep, would
find passage on either road.

  After several minutes of silence, Leonard turned the car around and made his way back to the abandoned buildings of Berthoud Falls. He hid the vehicle behind a dilapidated standalone garage.

  “Time to walk,” Leonard said.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “This is why your mother planned ahead.”

  Leonard jimmied open the smuggling compartments and they fished through the supplies. The backpacks already contained granola bars, water purifying packets, one water bottle each, and the thermal hoodies. The larger pack held a Swiss army knife, a compass, four empty Ziplocs, and a medium-sized box of matches. Leonard put the matches in one of the Ziplocs and closed it tight. The smaller pack contained a large tube of sunscreen, three more Ziplocs, and a small box of matches. Watching her father, Natalia secured the matches inside a Ziploc. Leonard added sixteen MREs, dividing the meals between them. He threw in an extra t-shirt for each of them, but left behind the rest of their clothing. He wanted to keep the load as light as possible. Finally, he tied the brownish-green sleeping bags to the packs. Alina had mentioned that the sleeping bags contained money, sewn into the lining. There was no time to search for it now. He’d just have to trust it was there.

  “No flashlight?” Leonard grumbled in frustration as he searched the smuggling compartments. “Alina hadn’t bought the flashlights yet.” He groaned. “And the maps are sewn under the inside layer of her purse.”

  “No maps?”

  “We have a compass. We’ll just keep working our way south on whatever roads we find. That way we’ll eventually meet back up with I-70.”

  Now thinking like a survivalist, Leonard surveyed their surroundings. Dry conditions indicated little or no snowfall since September first. An asset in regards to mud and footprints, but possibly a liability if the rivers were low.

  They proceeded, clambering over the barricade on Henderson Mine Road and walking until they came to a fork. A dirt road continued south — the obvious choice. With each step, Leonard assessed their situation, trying not to become overwhelmed. Now that they were on foot, the journey was quite a different one, involving days of hiking and potential hazards. Would the MREs last? Would they find water?

  “I’m hungry,” Natalia announced. “Dishi had some snacks for us, but I didn’t really eat lunch.”

  Leonard cringed. “Just a little farther, Nat. We need to make some distance and stretch out our supplies.”

  She said nothing.

  When they happened upon a reservoir, Leonard and Natalia stopped to drink some bottled water and eat a couple of granola bars. The sun was getting lower and a chill caused Natalia to shiver.

  “We should put on the thermal hoodies,” Leonard said, rummaging through his pack. Before he located his hoodie, a twig cracked behind them. Leonard froze. Natalia grabbed his hand.

  A low, menacing growl followed by a swift clatter could only mean one thing. Hands clasped tightly, Leonard and Natalia slowly rose to their feet, turning their heads in the direction of the noise.

  Two dogs baring their teeth and five armed guards stood before them, their rifles aimed at Leonard’s chest.

  Chapter Thirty

  “Hands behind your heads,” a tall man barked.

  Natalia gasped and slowly placed her hands on the nape of her neck.

  “Now!”

  Leonard followed suit.

  The strangers wore brown uniforms. More elaborate than the gray DTS coveralls, their attire included a series of medals and insignias. Leonard recognized the DID seal on their lapels. These men appeared to be military personnel, not just run-of-the-mill government employees. Gold buttons ran from neck to navel, giving the soldiers a distinguished appearance. Round brown hats with modest visors faintly resembled German World War Two helmets.

  The tall man seemed to be the leader. His left shoulder beamed with rows of blue and gold angled stripes. “Search them.”

  Two subordinates complied, patting down Leonard and Natalia, searching their pockets, and dumping out their backpacks. Since the Tramers had left their papers in the Toyota, the search yielded nothing. The soldiers refilled the backpacks and slung them over their shoulders.

  “My identification is in the car,” Leonard said coolly, hoping to present an air of authority.

  “I know who you are, Dr. Cook,” the leader snarled.

  “Good. Then you must realize that there has been a misunderstanding.”

  “A traitor is a traitor.”

  “I was—”

  “You were not scheduled to visit anyone per our records. And you clearly are not performing any medical duties lollygagging way out here with backpacks and camping supplies.” He swung his rifle in the direction of Highway 40. “Move it.”

  Keeping their hands clasped behind their heads, Leonard and Natalia trudged down the dirt road. The soldiers marched quietly behind them. Although Leonard thought they were traveling at a decent pace, the leader occasionally rammed the butt of his rifle against Leonard’s back.

  Each time her father stumbled, Natalia’s eyes filled with tears.

  When the leader heard a soft sob escape Natalia’s lips, he responded harshly. “Stop your crying and get moving.”

  Natalia sniffled and swallowed. The butt of the man’s gun found its way to her shoulder. It was all Leonard could do not to leap at the soldier and punch him on the jaw, but he knew such a maneuver would lead to gunfire or a beating. He glanced at his daughter. Strong and defiant, she held her breath and scrunched her eyebrows together, trying to suppress her emotions. Her face turned red before she relaxed and adopted an impassive expression.

  The leader, noticing Leonard’s turned head, knocked him on the shoulder, forcing him to look forward. How Leonard wanted to reach out and touch Natalia, to comfort her, but he succumbed to their powerless situation.

  When they reached Highway 40, they saw three unfamiliar vehicles and the Toyota waiting on the road. The closest vehicle, a white van with peeling paint, stood with its rear double doors open. A slab of plywood divided the van into two sections. The soldiers shoved Leonard into the compartment on the right side of the divider and Natalia into the left. Then they slammed the doors shut.

  “Natalia, are you okay?” Leonard called when the van was in motion.

  He could not make out her muffled reply.

  The vehicle stopped abruptly and Leonard’s body lurched, causing him to hit his head. He reached up to check for blood. A loud pounding on the side of the van reverberated, further aggravating Leonard’s headache.

  “Shut the fuck up in there,” a deep voice hollered.

  Natalia began sobbing.

  “I said shut the fuck up.”

  She could not control herself.

  A door opened, the one on Natalia’s side. Leonard scurried forward. Although the guards did not open his compartment, a small crack between his door and the wooden divider allowed him to peek outside. What he witnessed horrified him. A short, fat guard wrenched Natalia out of the van and shoved her to the ground. She shrieked in terror.

  “I said,” the soldier said, kicking her in the side. “Shut.” Kick. “The.” Kick. “Fuck up.”

  She recoiled and pulled herself into the fetal position.

  Leonard screamed and rattled his door hysterically. “Leave her alone.”

  The fat soldier turned his attention to Leonard and stormed toward the van. He unlocked the door and flung it open. It crashed against the side of the vehicle.

  “You’ve got something to say to me, traitor?” the soldier said, inches from Leonard’s face. “You worried about your pretty little niece?” he cooed softly as he pushed Leonard against the van. Returning to Natalia, the man’s demeanor changed dramatically. He helped her to her feet. Once she was steady, he ran his hand along the side of her face and down her neck. She cringed and looked away. “I suppose I could be more gentle with her.” He twirled her hair in his fingers.

  A medium built, middle-ag
ed man scowled as he approached Natalia and the insolent soldier.

  The fat man continued, “What do you think, Sanders? I deserve a little R&R.” His hand slid down Natalia’s shoulder toward her breast, but the middle-aged soldier grabbed the pervert’s arm.

  “You are such an asshole, Bean.”

  Bean laughed, a licentious grin on his lips. “Jealous? You want some, too?”

  “Get in the van.”

  Neither tender nor rough, Sanders escorted Natalia back to her compartment. His expression conveyed no emotion except a slight irritation at his colleague’s behavior. As Natalia climbed in, Sanders gripped Leonard’s arm, squeezing hard, causing him to flinch. “Not another word from you.”

  Leonard nodded and scrambled into the van.

  Although silent for the duration of the ride, Leonard writhed in agony. He chastised himself at least a hundred times in fifteen minutes, but the self-berating did little to ease his conscience. As the adrenaline faded and the reality of their circumstances sank in, Leonard’s spirit melted, the heat of its incineration passing through his body and evaporating any last scrap of hope.

  There is no way out.

  Leonard and Natalia’s lives would drain away in a haze of cells and quarries, their only sustenance bland oatmeal and stale bread…or worse. He had endeavored to rescue his daughter from the despicable Youth Brigade’s breeding program; instead, he had led her straight into the heart of another atrocity. Natalia might be raped by beasts like the fat guard, Bean. In retrospect, the gentle boy with almond-shaped eyes seemed like an angel from another era. Making love to him and nine months of pregnancy—a respite in comparison to sweaty fat fingers and other filthy appendages on the floor of a cold prison cell.