by Hannah Ross
"Not chance. Predictable, reliable social trends. In the current situation, most people wouldn't choose to have more than two children anyway. Many have a reproductive permit for two, and they choose not to have more than one. If you actually check the statistics, you'll see that the birth rate is, in fact, below replacement, less than 1.5 children per woman. Apparently, this is what our government wants. There's a lot of talk about zero growth, but it's more than that. It seems those in charge want the population to shrink."
"And wouldn't that be a good thing? After all, our resources really are limited."
"Enough to justify throwing pre-teens across the Boundary and leaving them there to fend for themselves?" Rebecca's anger flared again. "Enough to rip innocent lives apart?"
There was a long silence. Daniel knew the set, determined expression he saw. He admired it. Many years ago, it was one of the things that made him fall in love with her. Now, however, a chill ran down his spine as he looked at her.
"Inevitably, there's a great deal of injustice in laws that take so much control over the personal choices of men and women," he said, laying a gentle hand on Rebecca's arm. "But we live in hard times. Most people, when asked, would say that sacrifices are necessary."
Rebecca's eyes flashed. She moved away from his touch. "Each one of these sacrifices has a name and a face. They are children, Daniel, and our son is among them. I will not give up…"
"But you did." He saw her flinch at the hard truth. He knew he sounded merciless, but he saw no other way to get her attention. "We did, all those years ago. There was no choice but to give up. We realized we couldn't keep the baby, not without destroying our whole family. So we handed him over and attempted to get our lives back. It was heartbreaking, it was devastating, but it was the only way. The only way. You shouldn't have gone there again and again to see him. What good ever came out of that? It only ruined your peace of mind, it took away your joy of life. It's time to let go, Rebecca. Please. Please. Let go."
She shook her head. "We didn't do what was right all those years ago, Daniel. We were afraid. We picked the easy way. We gave up our son, and there is no escape, no forgiveness. It's much too late, but I can't let go. Not now that we know of the horrible injustice that's happening in this country every day, every year."
"So what are you going to do?"
"I don't know yet, but there must be something. I'm a journalist, a writer. I know how to do research. I have some connections. At the very least, I can find out the whole truth, and I can tell people about it. People deserve to know."
Daniel's face darkened. "Be careful, Becky. If you get in the way of important people, we might all pay the price. If someone chooses to dig deep, it will become known that we had an illegal child, and then we'll be facing the penalties we tried to avoid in the first place. Even with the Blameless Birth act, our name will be tarnished, our family's career options limited. You and I could retire, of course, but what about Jordan and Kate? Have you thought of them?"
"I think of all my children. Every day of my life."
With a final glare, she went into the bathroom, locked the door, turned on the faucet, and leaned onto the sink. With the sound of running water masking her tears, she could finally cry in peace.
5
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Morning melted into evening, another day came and passed, and another sunrise colored the sky pink, and still they followed the river. Benjamin walked at the head of the column, his keen eyes observing everything around and in front of him. Behind him, what little talking he heard was someone complaining.
The cheery atmosphere of the first evening, of their first dinner in the independence of the wilderness, did not last long. They soon learned fishing, gathering wild plants, and looking for freshwater clams and snails and birds' nests would not bring them near enough food to keep their stomachs from rumbling. No one was happy they had to cut into their supplies, especially since there was not much left and it was only their third day.
As important as their dwindling food supply was the lack of adequate shelter. They had four tents among them – two for the boys and two for the girls – in which they took refuge during the night when it rained, but it was not enough. The first rain storm flooded the tents. Lesson learned, Benjamin suggested a higher place on the riverbank for the following night, but he knew it would not do in the long run. They had to find or build something more solid, something that could withstand snow as well as rain, in case they stayed in the area. It was only spring, but already he was thinking of winter.
Day four was worse than any before. The cold, steady rain made the season seem more like late autumn than spring. It was so wet they were unable to start a fire to cook breakfast, not that there was much to cook. Their supplies were nearly at an end, except for a small stash Ben insisted on keeping for emergency situations. For safekeeping, he divided the pitifully small pile of tins and packages between himself, Tom, Elisa, and Jimmy, who seemed to stand a little taller in the face of this new responsibility.
Ten of them huddled, cold, damp, and grumpy, under the flimsy cover of a tent, nibbling on some crackers with fake cheese spread. As the hours passed, they all grew more dejected until Lauren broke the silence.
"I can't stand this! Isn't there any way we can get out of this horrible rain? Look, it's crept into the tent again. My sleeping bag is wet, and it sure won't dry by tonight. We can't even start a fire."
"I'm sure the rain will clear up in a bit," Elisa said, not really believing her own words.
"Oh yeah? Have you looked outside? It's almost like the sun's about to set. Don't tell me you aren't cold."
"And hungry," Shauna Hill said. "We haven't had a decent meal in I don't know how long. I'm tired of this. We need a good breakfast."
Ben, Tom, and Elisa exchanged glances. They understood things were not going well.
As Ben listened to the others venting their frustration, Mr. Bradley's words from one of their afternoon talks resounded in his head. There will be moments when your attitude is what makes a difference between life and death. Whatever happens, you must be able to pull everyone together. Yes, it is a lot to ask, but you don't have any choice.
Before he could voice a suggestion, David said, "I'll tell you what we can do. We'll cross the river. See, this area where we are now, it's all exposed, but there are trees on the other side. We can take shelter there."
Tom shook his head. "Cross the river? Dave, did you look out? The rains have swelled the river and you can hardly see the other bank."
"It isn't too deep here."
"It wasn't." Tom corrected. "We don't know how deep it is now. And besides, we'll get soaked trying to cross in this weather."
"We're getting soaked sitting here." David stood and hoisted his backpack. "I'm going. Anyone else?"
Several others sprang to their feet, backpacks in hand.
Elisa sounded frantic as she whispered to Ben, "What are we going to do? We can't split up."
Ben knew she was right. Bradley's warning echoed in his mind. Together, you might stand a chance. Break up and you're lost. There was no choice. For good or ill, they had to remain together. He reached for his backpack.
It was clumsy work folding the tents in the downpour. As he helped, Ben realized the plan was madness. But what can I do? They're determined. He understood that only extreme frustration, restlessness, and the urge to do something, anything, rather than sit still, hungry and cold, could have driven his classmates to it. But that doesn't make it any less foolish. He was thoroughly annoyed with David.
His annoyance was forgotten when he finally stepped into the river and felt the cold water rushing past. David was right. The river isn't deep. Even in the middle, the water's only up to my chest. But some of the others…it's up to their shoulders. And now my backpack is soaked through and heavier. And this current keeps trying to drag me down. Thank goodness the food, matches, and medical supplies a
re all in waterproof packages. But the clothes and sleeping bags will be soaked. This was so stupid.
A gust of wind-driven rain slapped him in the face and got into his eyes, making it difficult to see the opposite bank. He clenched his teeth, and was battling against the desire to strangle David as he struggled to put one foot in front of the other when a loud scream cleared his head. That was Elisa's voice, but she's standing there. She's fine. Then he realized she was calling, "Lauren! Lauren!" and Shauna yelled in a shrill, panicked voice, "She went under! Help, someone!"
No one knew how to swim, but Tom ducked down and pulled Lauren up by the arm. When her head reappeared above the water surface, wet hair was plastered to her face and she was spluttering and spitting water.
"My foot's caught," she yelled through the wind and rain and sound of gushing water. Supported by Tom on one side and Shauna on the other, she worked her foot loose and made it to the other bank.
The trees provided some shelter, but it was woefully inadequate in such weather. They were soaked through, numb with cold, and it was clear they would not be able to light a fire for hours.
Ben resisted the urge to tell David just what he thought of him and his notion of crossing the river in a downpour, but he kept silent, sensing it would likely end with a punch in the nose and an irreversible rupture in their group.
He was more concerned about Lauren. Though saved from the immediate threat of drowning, she was deathly pale and shivering more than the others. Her right foot was propped up on a log, and she winced with pain as Elisa examined it.
"It's her ankle," Elisa told Ben in a low voice. "It got caught under a rock at the bottom of the river. That's why she fell. I think she might have sprained it. And she's so cold. Ben, we have to get her warm, but how?"
They fumbled with the tents and managed to set them up again, but everything was so soaked the thin canvas roof and walls did not give much protection from the rain and wind. Everyone sat in their soaking wet clothes, numb with cold and dejection. Despite the chilly weather and the cold water compresses, Lauren's ankle continued swelling and she had to bite her lip to keep from moaning.
It was a night of thorough misery. The rain eventually stopped, but the wood was still too wet to get a fire burning. Wolves could be heard howling in the distance. Most tried to huddle together for warmth, but without dry clothes, blankets or towels, it did not help much. Sleep was out of the question. There was nothing left to do but sit, shivering and hungry, waiting for dawn to break.
David sat alone in a corner, avoiding everyone's eye, knowing they blamed him for their misery.
"We could all have drowned," Tom murmured. "We should have let him go alone."
Ben shook his head. "No. We're a team. We don't let anybody go alone." But next time someone suggests something stupid, I have to speak up.
It seemed like the night would never end, but finally, the first pale rays of the sun brightened the atmosphere. Trees cast long, early-morning shadows on the damp ground. The air warmed, and a light, misty vapor rose as their surroundings dried. They wrung out sleeping bags, blankets, and clothes as best they could and hung them over branches of nearby trees. The sun dried dead grasses and small branches and by mid-morning they had kindling to light a fire, which provided some warmth and comfort. They ate a sparing breakfast of dry potato flakes mixed with boiling water to form a kind of porridge. The stuff was revolting, and back at the orphanage they would have turned their noses up at it, but now everybody ate their portion in concentrated and grateful silence.
The prolonged rain and cold, the river crossing, and the dreadful night did not pass without effect. Several people, including Jimmy and Lauren, succumbed to colds. Jimmy burned with fever while Lauren, no matter how much they stoked the fire, shivered with chills and continued ankle pains.
Frantic to help, Elisa read the instructions on the back of medicine packages, trying to figure out which should be used for what before opening them with trembling hands. I have to be careful not to give out too much. I don't really know what these medicines will do to them. Why didn't they teach us about medicines at the orphanage? And what will we do when we run out? Maybe we'll find some once we get to an abandoned city. But will it still be good? How will we know?
While Elisa worried and tried her best, Ben said to Tom, "Come on. Let's go find something to eat."
They took their fishing gear, but had no luck catching anything in the muddy, rain-swollen river. They did find some freshwater clams as they strolled along the bank, turning every rock in their search for anything edible, but a handful was a pitiful reward for all their efforts.
Ben's mood grew somber. "If this was winter, we'd all likely be dead or close to it after a night like we had with no shelter or fire." He felt vulnerable and distraught, like a little boy in desperate need to run to someone for comfort, only there was no one. They were on their own.
"Kind of makes you wish we were back at the orphanage now, huh?" Tom said, as if reading his mind.
Ben wanted to agree, but knew that admission would make despair harder to ward off. Instead, he squared his shoulders, looked up at the sun high in the sky, and said, "We'll be fine. Come on. Let's get back to the camp. Maybe one of the others found something to eat."
By the end of the day, Lauren's condition concerned everyone even more than lack of food. She burned with fever, but continued to insist she was cold. Her breath came out in a hollow, wheezing sound that did not bode well. Fighting despair, Elisa gave her a double dose of medicine and, holding her head up, helped her sip some tea she brewed from comfrey leaves found near the camp, but neither seemed to help much.
Shauna, Lauren's best friend, was in tears. "Is she going to die?" she asked.
Eliza knew she had to be firm. "Don't be silly. It's only a cold."
Unconvinced, Shauna said, "She needs a doctor" as she looked away.
Eliza knew that much was true. In the orphanage, life was bleak, but nobody was allowed to get seriously sick without treatment. But there were no doctors out here in the wild.
The next morning found Jimmy feeling much better and Lauren feeling a little better, though she was still very weak. This cheered everyone, but Ben could think of only one thing. "We need shelter," he said to Tom and Elisa when the three of them could get away from the others. "Decent shelter. It shouldn't be too difficult to find. Think of all the people that lived out here before the War. Many of those houses must still be standing."
Tom nodded. "Yeah. This stretch of the country seems empty but who knows what we'll find if we explore further. All I know is we can't stay here."
Ben pulled his map from the waterproof pouch. "Look. If I'm guessing right and we're here…" He pointed to an area on the map. "…we're not too far from where the river is supposed to fork. We could branch out, too, and see what looks more promising, the west or southwest."
"Yes, but perhaps we should stay here for a couple more days," Elisa said. "People are still ill, especially Lauren. She's trying to seem stronger than she is, but I know she shouldn't be marching anywhere anytime soon."
Ben saw the anxiety on her face and the fear in her eyes. "We don't all need to go at once. Five or six people are enough. We can split into two parties but we really have to move forward. We have nice weather now, but nobody promised us there won't be another rainstorm tonight. And we're getting really low on supplies. We have to find decent shelter soon, something permanent, so that we can feel safe and focus on getting food."
The scouting party set out next morning. Ben and Tom were joined by David, Shauna and Jimmy, who insisted he was quite well already. David seemed eager to atone for his suggestion of crossing the river in the rain, and volunteered at once to be one of the scouts.
They were on their way at dawn, and kept a good pace for the next couple of hours. By mid-morning, they reached the river fork.
Ben smiled. This is a good omen. We read the map right and know exactly where we are. Now it's time to decide which branch
of the river to follow.
They climbed an outcropping of rock to survey their surroundings. The area immediately to the west was a depressing-looking plain strewn with rusty carcasses of old machinery and heaps of rubble where a town or a village might once have stood. The southwest, in contrast, seemed relatively untouched. A road was visible, still in pretty good condition despite decades of disrepair, and some old telephone poles ran alongside it.
"Doesn't look too bad that way," Tom said. He cleared his throat. "Of course, it means we'll all have to cross the river again."
He glanced at David, whose face burned with embarrassment.
"I…I guess I…I mean…"
"Forget it," Tom said, clapping him on the shoulder. "I'm just messing with you. Anyway, now that we've done our bit of scouting, how about getting back to camp? Or maybe we should try to do a bit of fishing first? Somehow, I'm not expecting a good dinner. We…"
"Hey!" David said. "What's that?"
He was pointing at a tall pile of large rocks a little to the south.
"It doesn't look natural," Shauna said. "Maybe we should check it out."
"That means we'll have to cross the river," Ben said.
Tom sighed. "Which means we'll have to go back a ways to find a spot shallow enough, unless we want to go swimming."
Shauna shrugged. "It's sunny and warm. We can swim in our underwear so we'll dry out quickly when we get back."
Twenty minutes later, the damp group approached the rocks to take a closer look.
"A cairn," Shauna said, touching it.
"What's a cairn?" David asked.
"This. A pile of rocks someone set up as a landmark or monument or something. Who do you think made it?"
Tom shrugged. "It could have been here for ages."