by Kody Boye
“Likewise,” I reply.
She chuckles, then, and runs a few teasing fingers down her husband’s hairline before returning her eyes to Ceyonne. “Miss Marsden got your tongue, dear?”
“She insulted me,” he replies.
“Don’t be spineless, husband. Words can only hurt if you allow them the power to do so. Isn’t that right, Mrs. Cross?”
I bite my tongue to keep from replying.
She smiles, then, and returns her gaze to Ceyonne as the SAD named Omara follows in behind her. “Dame,” she says.
“Yes, ma’am?” the woman asks.
“Give me your shock baton.”
I instantly pale.
What? I think.
The woman snaps the baton out of place and then offers it to the Countess with little more than a nod.
Aa’eesha Dane lifts her eyes to face Ceyonne. “I believe I should you make an example,” she says, “and show Miss Dao and Mrs. Cross why you do not cross me. Omara—open the cell door.”
“Leave her alone,” I say as the SAD draws forward—as the Dame sorts through the jail cell keys. “This wasn’t her idea.”
“And you want me to believe you acted alone?” the Countess replies. “I am not stupid, Kelendra. I know that this was an orchestrated endeavor. You did not come to this decision on your own.”
“I—you—she—”
The Countess steps forward.
Sparks to life the electricity upon the baton.
Waits for the cell door to be opened.
With nothing to do, and nowhere to go, Ceyonne shrinks into the corner.
“Do not fight me,” the Countess says. “I’ll have you killed otherwise.”
“No!” Wu screams.
But the Countess is ruthless.
She swings the baton.
She brings it down upon Ceyonne’s shoulder.
The girl screams.
The woman laughs.
She allows a moment of reprieve before stabbing her a second time.
Come time the third shock arrives, Ceyonne is on the ground—trembling, blood pooling from a tear where she bit her lip and her body seared with burn marks.
“Now,” she says, turning to face me. “I think it’s time I teach you a lesson, Mrs. Cross. One you’ll never forget.”
“Leave—” Ceyonne gasps. “Her—alone.”
The Countess strikes Ceyonne without the electricity and sends her back to the floor.
Omara steps forward.
She opens my cell door.
I, meanwhile, simply stand and wait.
I know it will be painful. I know it will be devastating. I know I will be shocked and burned and struck and spurned, but I will not move, nor will I cry out.
No.
She cannot hurt me any more than she already has.
As the Countess steps into the cell, and as she sparks to life the baton yet again, I brace myself for the worst.
She is just about to strike me when Wu cries, “She’s pregnant!”
And I, too shocked to believe what has just said, only turn and stare.
The Countess lowers the baton. “What?” she asks.
“I said… I said she’s pregnant,” Wu continues, edging toward the far side of her cell. She wraps her fingers around the bars and leans forward to look at me, a wild caution in her eyes and a frown upon her lips.
“How do you know this?” the Countess asks,
“She’s been complaining of stomach pains. Throwing up. She’s… started to show, too.”
“What?” I ask, then look down.
“You can’t see it,” my friend says, “but I can. I know, Kelendra. I just know.”
“I see,” the Countess says. She considers me for several long moments, then turns and exits the cell. “Omara.”
“Ma’am?” the Dame asks.
“Go fetch a doctor. I want to confirm this for myself.” She turns to look at Wu. “And you,” she then says, jabbing a finger in her direction. “If I find out you’re lying… and by God, you better hope you’re not… I’m going to make you wish you were never born.”
“I’m not wrong,” Wu says.
The Countess and Commandant turn and pass through the threshold leading into the nearby office.
“Wu—” I start to say. “How… what… why?”
“It buys us some time,” the girl says. “Besides… I didn’t want it hurt.”
“It?”
“The baby.”
I reach down and cup my hand over my stomach, then swallow a lump in my throat.
No. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t.
But Daniel—
I sigh.
As I consider the possibilities laid out before me, I can only come to one conclusion:
Between the stomach cramps, the pains, the random sickness…
There’s no denying it.
Wu is right. I must be pregnant.
That, above all else, terrifies me to no end.
I thought it was just our lives on the line. But now…
Now…
I have a life inside me.
And that, above all else, is the most terrifying thing of all.
“How did you know?” I ask.
Wu lifts her eyes from where she watches the threshold and says, “I’d suspected for a while.”
“But… you knew.”
“Yeah.”
“How?”
“You started complaining about your stomach one night while you were asleep,” she offers. “Then, when you woke up, you said you felt like you were going to throw up. You weren’t sick, because I checked your temperature. And, well…” She pauses. “It just makes sense. I mean, you were married, after all.”
“Only for a little while.”
“All it takes is one time, Kel.”
One time, I think.
And there’d been two.
Frowning, I draw my knees up to my chest and consider what will happen come time the doctor arrives, then turn to face Ceyonne and ask, “How are you feeling?”
She doesn’t respond. Her lip is swollen, her eyes still watering, her burn marks red and enflamed. She seems, for lack of a better word, scared, but I can’t blame her. Not after all she went through.
“Ceyonne?” I ask once more. “Answer me. Please.”
“I’m okay,” she whispers. “Just… hurting. Everywhere.”
“Maybe she’ll let the doctor look at you.”
The girl offers a low laugh. “No,” she says. “She won’t.”
There isn’t much more to say.
With a sigh, I lean back in my seat and consider what will occur now that this devastating truth has been revealed.
Me. Pregnant? With a dead man’s baby?
It’s hard to fathom—almost impossible, really—and yet, it makes a cruel, terrible sense, especially considering that I had been a willing participant in the acts that had occurred.
You knew it was possible, a part of my conscience offers. You knew it could happen.
And yet, I hadn’t expected it—at least, not in these circumstances.
No.
If I were to have believed that I would become a mother, and then give birth to and raise a child, I would have expected it to have occurred in the outskirts of the Glittering City, within the Ceres Farmlands. I would’ve been there, in the Cross family home, with Daniel at my side, a mother-in-law to help me. Things would have been simple—or, at least, simpler.
But now?
Now, I think, I am on death row—awaiting punishment that will likely come regardless of my pregnancy.
I am just about to turn my head to look at Ceyonne when I hear a pair of footsteps coming up the stairs.
A presence stirs in the other room.
I lift my eyes.
Countess Aa’eesha Dane appears.
Soon after, the SAD named Omara and a woman in scrubs rise up the stairwell, and instantly turn to regard the leader of our country.
“Countes
s,” the doctor says, bowing her head.
“Doctor,” the Countess replies. She turns and gestures to me. “That girl there. I need an ultrasound to confirm she’s pregnant.”
“I understand that there’s chaos in the streets, my lady, but I don’t see why you wouldn’t have been able to—”
The Countess smirks as the doctor lays her eyes fully upon me. “Now you see my need for discretion.”
“Yes, ma’am. I do.” The doctor steps forward. “Mrs. Cross,” she then says.
“Hello,” I say.
It is obvious that the doctor is trying her hardest to remain neutral, especially in the presence of the Countess, but I can see the unease on her face, the apprehension in her eyes, the unsurety on her lips. I wonder, briefly, if she feels pity for me, or draws inspiration from my rebelliousness.
I’m unable to dwell on it for long. Soon, the cell is being unlocked, and in the doctor comes. The cell door is barred quickly thereafter.
“Please lie down, Mrs. Cross.”
I do as instructed, for under the wrathful eye of Aa’eesha Dane, there is nothing I can do but that.
As I lie upon this cot, and as I stare up at this ceiling, I feel a gentle cooling sensation upon my stomach, then feel the press of an apparatus upon my flesh soon after.
I refuse to look at either the doctor or the Countess as my pregnancy is determined. With the knowledge that this could both save or kill me, I remain silent and as composed as possible, regardless of the fact that within me there is a storm raging.
It takes several moments of determination for the doctor to speak.
What she says shocks my mind and alters my existence forever.
“She is pregnant,” the woman says.
When I open my eyes, I find not the happy face of a woman, but the snarling countenance of a monster.
Countess Aa’eesha Dane is furious. Her eyes are full of rage, her mouth is twisted so her teeth are bared. But her hands—they are the worst of all. Balled, and ready to strike, she attempts to temper her mood by exhaling through her mouth, but it does little to contain the anger boiling beneath the surface.
“What should we do?” the SAD named Omara asks.
“This presents difficulties for sure,” the Countess replies.
“How so?”
“A part of me wanted to kill her outright for defying me and turning my city into a battleground. Now, though…” She smiles. “Now,” she says, “she has more use for me.”
“What are you—” I start to say.
“Doctor. Tell me: are the artificial wombs still in operation?”
“You forbade their use when the Beautiful Ones were deemed necessary for the country’s repopulation,” the doctor replied. “You claimed that they were unnecessary and cruel—devoid of a mother’s love.”
“I don’t care what I said in the past. The present is now, and the future… is tomorrow.” She narrows her eyes at me. “I would like an artificial womb prepared, doctor. And I want it done now.”
“But—”
“I don’t care what you say or what your colleagues think. I still rule this country, and what I say goes.”
“And the mother?” the doctor asks. “What will be done with her?”
“She’ll be executed along with her companions.”
Wu gasps.
I pale.
Ceyonne blinks and opens her eyes.
The Countess turns her head to look at us, then returns her eyes to the doctor before saying, “Return to the hospital and begin making preparations. I want this done as soon as possible.”
“Yes ma’am,” she says.
Within moments the woman is skittering down the stairs, while the Countess, in all her horrible malevolence, simply turns and walks back into the office.
There is no way for me to prepare for what has just happened.
My child? Taken from me?
No, I think. That cannot happen. Won’t.
Within moments, I turn my head, only to find that Ceyonne and Wu are thinking.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” I whisper.
They both nod.
There is no questioning what we must do.
Now, more than ever, we must try to escape.
Seventeen
There is no denying that we must leave this place and flee the city.
The only question is: how?
How will we do it? How will we get away? And worst yet: how will we get out of these cells, let alone the compound?
The unfortunate answer lies within me—literally.
I hate to put myself at risk. I hate to even think about putting the life inside me in danger. But at the same time, me and my friends will die if I don’t use my pregnancy to my advantage.
Which is why I work to devise a plan.
Ceyonne sleeps in the cell next to me. Wu, on the other hand, remains upright—her eyes fixed on the office across from us, her fingers placidly drumming on her legs. It is unbearably cold in this stony place, so much so that gooseflesh that has developed along my arms—but that, I feel, is what will help draw the SAD out of hiding.
The Commandant and Countess have already left for the day.
Now that they’re gone, the only SAD left is the woman named Omara.
Omara.
Who shoved a gun in my face. Who threatened to shoot me. Who would have shot me had I not been lucky.
Now that she’s here—and, so far as I know, by herself—there is no denying what must be done.
As the woman coughs in the other room, and as I consider the reality of the situation as a whole, I say a silent prayer and wish for only the best before rising and saying, “Something’s wrong.”
Ceyonne lifts her head.
Wu turns to look at me. “What?” she asks, rising, playing the part as perfectly as she can.
“I… I think it’s the baby,” I say.
“Hey!” Wu calls. “Hey! Hey!”
“What the hell’s going on in here?” Omara asks as she makes her way out of the office. “Why are you making so much racket?”
“Something’s wrong with the baby!” Wu cries. “You’ve gotta help her! Please.”
“I—” I start, taking hold of, then cupping my stomach. “I don’t—”
“Shit,” the woman says, scrambling through her set of keys. “Shit shit shit.”
“The Countess will have your head if that baby dies,” Ceyonne weakly says from her place in the cell beside me.
“Shut up, Marsden!” Omara yells. “Just shut the fu—”
She finally gets the cell door open.
She barrels in.
She crouches down and asks, “What the hell is wrong with you? I don’t see any bloo—”
But that is when the plan goes into action.
Ceyonne lashes out.
Grabs Omara.
Takes hold of her neck.
Drags her back.
As Ceyonne struggles to keep hold of the heavily-armed SAD, I lash out with my fists and take hold of the shock baton at her waist.
“Don’t—” Omara says, attempting to drag herself free from Ceyonne while fighting me off at the same time. She knows, though, that she can’t hurt me—because if she did, it would be her head.
Now, in the thick of it all, I can take hold of her weapon and use it to my advantage.
With a snap of my wrist, I drag the shock baton from her belt, then flip it open and push the button.
Then I stab her full-force in the stomach.
Omara jerks as electricity is pummeled through her abdomen.
I shock her again, this time aiming for her arm.
She jerks a second time.
I shock her once more.
She coughs and stumbles back, then collapses to the ground.
Then I shock her again.
And again.
And again and again and again.
“Don’t kill her!” Wu screams. “Kelendra! Please!”
“Think of what
she’ll do!” I scream back. “Think of what she’s going to do!”
“You’re not a killer!”
“You don’t know me!”
“Yes I do!” Wu sobs.
Ceyonne wraps her hands around the bars separating us and says, “Kelendra.”
I stop and turn to regard her.
The look in her eyes says it all. Her words, however, strike me to the core.
She simply says, “Think of your mother.”
Then I’m flashing back in time.
My mother, telling me that I was good.
My mother, reminding me to always be kind.
My mother, telling me that hurting another person unless necessary was utterly wrong.
She’d never said anything about killing, but I know, deep down, that she would never forgive me if I took someone else’s life without reason.
Is this not a reason though? I wonder. Is this not a cause?
I realize that here, and now, it is not my place to decide that.
As I relinquish my hold on the shock baton, and as it falls beside me, I crouch down to take hold of the keys that have fallen during the scuffle and say, “I’m sorry.”
Then I grab her gun and push the cell door shut behind me.
It locks into place with a resounding click.
I spin, then, to face Ceyonne and Wu, and say, “Thank you. Both of you.”
“Now let’s get the hell out of here,” Wu says.
“Do ether of you know how to shoot a gun?”
Wu meekly raises her hand.
“You?” Ceyonne asks as I unlock the door.
“I wasn’t the best shot,” Wu says, “but my father taught me in case something happened while he was gone at war.”
“Do you know how to use this?” I lift the pistol so she can see.
“Yeah. I… I think so.”
“Good.” I unlock Ceyonne’s cell, then move to unlock Wu’s. “You think you can get us out of here with just a few bullets?”
“I—I don’t—”
“This our chance, Wu. We have to take it.”
“I know.”
“I can’t hear that you can’t protect us if we don’t get out of here.”
“I… I know, Kel.”
“So tell me you can get us out of here.”
“I can get us out of here,” she says, just in time for me to unlock her cell’s door.
I sigh and say, “Okay.” Then I pass her the gun and turn to face Ceyonne. “Can you walk?”