Ana was on her feet quickly. Her reddened eyes shot a gaze that bored into Treg’s. “I will act as if he’s alive until I have proof otherwise. If I have to stay out here until my limbs fall off so he knows I’m here, that’s what I’ll do, understand?”
Treg’s mouth formed a line. He gently patted Ana’s arms. “Of course.”
They kept up their search until they heard faint whimpers.
Varrick sat low in a clump of bushes. His skin was clammy and his jaw twitched. His face brightened at the sight of Ana. “Mom said wait here, and you’d come for me.”
Ana’s vision blurred and she let out a whimpered gasp at the sight of her brother. Once she was able to speak at all, her voice came out in choked sobs. She pulled Varrick into her arms as she trembled. “Of course I will, little man. Always. Shh, we’re getting out of here.” They embraced and wept together. For a few minutes, Ana welcomed and basked in the relief of at least knowing Varrick was safe. Even with all the doubt around them, the comfort of knowing Varrick was with them gave her new energy to press onward.
In spite of their situation, Treg was moved at the sight of brother and sister reunited and he felt compelled to let them breathe for a minute. He returned to a vigilant gaze around the area.
Varrick held up a small shiny device with a digital readout to Ana. “Mom said give you this.”
Ana grabbed it and eyed Treg. “Ever see one of these?”
“Yeah, that’s a beacon.” Treg took it from Ana’s hand and worked the buttons on it. “See here? It’s giving coordinates, they look like they’re close to the border.”
“Little man, did mom say anything else about it?”
“She said that’s where the Action will be next.”
Treg smiled. “Well then, guess we got our ticket out together after all. Let’s move.”
As they walked they heard shouting ahead and some weapons fire. They all crouched, and Treg edged up onto his knees for a look. “They’ve got some people up ahead. Maybe Deviants. Sentries are drawn on them. They . . . oh.”
Ana’s gut seized up. “What, Treg, what?”
He gave Ana a pained glance. “It’s your parents.”
Ana was upright as fast as a startled cat. Treg grabbed her arm but she shook him loose and moved up behind a tree for a closer look. About twenty yards ahead, a Sentry vehicle was parked with several Sentries on foot in front. Their weapons were drawn and Ana saw Emily and Jordan facing them with a group of four others. They shouted at each other and then Radomet came into the area with their weapons drawn.
“We’ve gotta help ’em.” Ana hissed.
“With what? A beacon and our clothes? No way. We go there, we’ll be just as bad off as they are. We gotta get free from this.”
“Treg, we have to—”
Emily glanced for a moment in their direction and her expression softened a bit. Her eyes switched back between Ana and the Sentries before she gave Ana another glance. Emily’s mouth curled in a pout. A lone tear snaked its way down her cheek as she mouthed, “Go”.
Chapter 9
The three of them made it to the convoy. They weren’t as lucky as some escapees but Ana showed her worth in spades. After a tense ride in a transport and a run-in with a patrol at the border, Ana came face to face with Baudricort. His hair was tousled, his face with several days’ growth of facial hair. He gazed at her with curious eyes and gave her a once over.
“Hi, we haven’t met. I run the Action, and I’d like you to stick close to me for now.”
“As long as my brother is with me, I don’t mind. I’m not going anywhere without him.”
“Family is important. I believe in that, too.” He smiled and offered Ana a seat. “Sorry about your parents.”
Ana’s eyes stung with new tears. “What happened to ’em, do you know?”
“They were captured holding off Sentries to let a group get to a convoy. They didn’t make it.”
“Oh.” Ana bowed her head as tears streamed down her face. She huddled over while her body was racked with sobs for several minutes. “They figured Varrick had a better shot with me, I guess.” She swiped her eyes quickly.
Baudricort sat next to her and wrapped his arm around her, hugging gently. “I know they loved you. And they wanted you and your brother to be safe, which you are now.”
Ana glanced around, the walls of the room were covered with video screens, and packs of gear were strewn about—a sign of a hurried escape.
Ana’s voice trembled when she was able to reply. “This is all nice, but would you just mind dropping us off?”
“Drop you off?”
“Yeah. I’m not a soldier and Varrick is sick.”
“How do you expect to care for him out here, alone?”
“Like I always do, figure something out.”
“We’re in the Outlands now. You have any idea what’s out here?”
“Am I supposed to?”
Baudricort’s eyes narrowed, and a smile crept over his lips. “There are random groups of people, who’ve only survived because they can fight and take what they want from whoever else is out there. We’re barreling through that and we don’t always have the best luck with them, and we’re a group with Warrior Products in the mix. What exactly are a Worker Product and a child going to do?”
“I can take care of myself.” Ana narrowed her eyes as she sniffled.
“Okay, well what about meds? We’ve got Pox treatments here. They hold the disease at bay.”
Ana watched him, her voice still shook. “Oh yeah, what’s that, poison? I heard the cure for Pox was a joke.”
“No, it’s not a joke. It’s not a cure yet, but it’s a start. We’ve been helping others with Pox get by.” Baudricort watched her for a second. “Look, I know a bit about you. Treg filled me in on what you did during the convoy trip here. Why don’t you just give it a little while, huh? We’re heading west, as far as we can go. There’s this mountain range we’re headed to for safety. It’s rocky, and it should be easy to defend once we get there. We have enough supplies with us to last until we get established. What have you got to lose?”
Baudricort’s talk about supplies made Ana think of Marlene and how she wanted food even in the middle of avoiding capture. Ana’s burning stomach chimed in, too, and gave her even more to think about.
“Treg’s with Varrick as he’s getting settled into the medical unit. I promise you we’ll take care of your brother. Let us take care of you, too, for now.”
Ana gazed back at Baudricort. “Okay.”
Ana chewed her food slowly and watched Baudricort as he met with others in uniforms about maps and movements. This was her new life. She had no idea where she was going, but she definitely knew she was never going back to where she’d been.
Also by Paul Heingarten
Follow the continuing story of Ana Crucinal in Paul Heingarten’s Valkyrie Chronicles series, available on Amazon.com
The Valkyrie Chronicles
Cataclysm Epoch
Settling Darkness
Valkyrie Rising (coming soon)
Short Stories
The Harvest
The Monitor
Natural Election
Other Novels by Paul Heingarten
Leave from Absence
About Paul Heingarten
Paul Heingarten mainly writes science fiction and fantasy, with the occasional detour into general fiction. A musician for most of his life, and an IT professional because it pays the bills, he lives in South Louisiana with his wife Andrea. In addition to sharing his passion for writing with his wife and the local Bayou Writers Club they belong to, he’s also a diehard Saints fan.
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The Between
Ellabee Andrews
Life in The Between isn’t easy. The only people I’ve ever spoken with are my parents and my little brother, Cole.
They fled the Sector they lived in when I was born. You can’t live there and be Defective, and that’s what I am. To save me, they abandoned their lives when they entered The Between.
Things are okay until my parents don’t return home. With them gone, it’s up for me to navigate this dangerous world and take care of Cole. I’ve trained, but I don’t know if I’m ready to handle this on my own.
Prologue
On the day I was born, my parents took one look at me and ran. Everything they had ever known was abandoned in their haste to take me away. Their family, friends, home, and job, all forfeited so that they could try to save me.
It’s not as if I would have been killed, but I would have been taken away, separated from my parents and shipped off, indefinitely—transported to the other sector, Sector B, the one that existed outside of their walls. A fate, my parents felt, which was worse than death.
So, instead of allowing the officials to test me, to use their handheld machine to scan my brain for irregular levels of Serotonin and Testosterone, they fled into the night. They left everything they’d ever known behind, carrying only what could be held on their backs. They hadn’t needed the machine to tell them what they’d already known and feared: I was Defective.
How could I have been anything else with hair so red, and eyes that were as brown as freshly turned soil? Colors like that did not exist in Sector A anymore. Those genes had been weeded out through decades of human intervention, until only those without the chemical imbalance that caused aggressive behavior was remained. Now, those with pure hearts and minds were the sole occupants of Sector A, their purity evidenced by their golden-blonde hair and blue eyes.
Every other color had been linked to a genetic disposition of anger and aggression, and in Sector A, no one with less-than-perfect conduct was allowed to remain. Not since the laws had passed a century ago that divided the world into two classes. Those that were not predisposed to anger and hostility toward others were placed into Sector A. Those that had a history of family violence, or genes that had proven to be ‘flawed’ in some way or another, were sent to Sector B.
Sector B had been where my parents feared I’d end up. The walled-off city was hard enough on adults that could fend for themselves, but for helpless children . . . It was no place a parent would ever be okay with sending their child.
When the division for the sectors first occurred, fighting broke out. There were worries of the government creating internment camps, and fears of mass genocide. The government, of course, fired back with propaganda about how each sector would be treated equally, but it had all been a lie.
Where the citizens of Sector A enjoyed life inside towering cities of glass and steel, the inhabitants in Sector B were crammed into stacked shipping containers that had been converted into homes. They were small, rusted, and were barely better than sleeping outdoors. In Sector A, there were schools, hospitals, and grocery stores that were stocked with fresh produce and breads. Sector B had no such thing. Barter was the currency, and death by starvation was too common. And worst of all, by sealing millions of individuals with emotional deficiencies in one place, they had created a city of conflict.
My parents had explained to me that little was known by those in Sector A about the deplorable conditions of their neighboring sector because people were happy to turn a blind eye. No one that they knew or loved was having to suffer, so why mess with a system that favored their own sector so heavily?
That had been my parent’s philosophy, too, at least, until the day I had been born. The city official had been set to arrive within the hour of my mother birthing me, but we’d disappeared before he’d gotten the chance to scan my brain and banish me to the other side. No, they’d loved me too much for that, and had decided to take their chance in The Between.
This was name for the place that I had grown up in. The one outside the high walls of either sector, and without rules. It was also without the government’s aid and protections of their armies, but we were together, proving that desperate times could force you to do things you’d never thought possible. My parents had built our home in the trees, the wood stretching across where the thickest branches connected, and providing another measure of security. I had dubbed it ‘the nest’ when I was younger, and the name had stuck. If we remained vigilant, we’d be able to continue surviving, the same way we had since I was born.
My name is Samara, but my friends call me Sam. Well, my parents and little brother call me Sam. Apart from them, I’ve never met anyone else. I’m almost eighteen years old, and I’ve never spoken to anyone outside of my home. It’s gotten lonely at times, but I’d never complain. My parents had saved me.
Chapter 1
“Tell me again, Cole, why don’t we wander off into the Shade?” my mother asks, making eye contact with my eight-year-old brother to show she’s not messing around. This is rule number one in our family. Never go into the Shade.
I look at my mom as she quizzes my younger brother, and not for the first time, I imagine a life where I had been born with her white-blonde hair, or the golden-blond of my father. Even Cole, though younger, had a sandy-blond that would have allowed him to live a life without fear of starvation, or of the Fleshers. Had I not been born, they wouldn’t be out here in The Between.
“Because that’s where the Fleshers live. If I go in there, they’ll take me away, and I’ll never see my family again,” Cole responds in a bored tone, and interrupts my internal pity party. These are the same lessons he’s been taught every day of his life, and as much as he gets tired of hearing them repeated daily, they are the most important things to know. Plus, as sad as it seems to make an eight-year-old learn about people like that, it’s a hard truth. And part of our reality. The sooner he learns, the better.
Like my parents, other people had escaped their designated sectors in the past. Some tried to stay under the radar and just get by on their own, but others had much worse intentions and means for survival.
These are the Flesh Peddlers. A gang of Defectives that would kidnap and murder anyone they come across. The bodies of their victims provide them with the sustenance that is needed to survive. I have never seen them, since my brother and I aren’t allowed to leave our nest in the trees, but our parents have told us horror stories about them, and the screams that would echo out across the great expanse of forest we lived within.
No, rule number one isn’t one that I would ever be in a hurry to break.
Turning my attention back to my own lesson, I take out the knife I carry on my hip and begin to sharpen it. My father had made it for me from rock and leather, and I cherish it dearly. Keeping it cleaned and sharpened is also a rule. Never enter the Shade, and always be armed. Without the proper maintenance, it is just a rock. And though that could still harm someone, it isn’t as useful as a knife.
“Good morning, Dumplin’,” my father greets me as he enters the room. He’s sweaty and covered in dirt, but I know that’s because he wants to be. Stealth out in The Between is paramount to survival. Camouflaging your body to blend in with the earth and trees helps you stay hidden from other people—and the Fleshers.
“Morning, Dad,” I reply, and get a wink back from him. As much as I love my mother, I’ve always had a closer bond with my dad. Most likely because I share his adventurous spirit, and long to explore the world. A trait my mother finds infuriating in the both of us.
“I’m going to need your help today, Love. I think something has been messing with the traps, and a few of them take more than one person to set up. Sam can watch after Cole while we’re gone, and we should be finished before nightfall,” my dad says, after greeting my mother with a kiss. Once a high-ranking official in Sector A, he had traded it all for my protection, and now lives in
a house built up into the trees. Despite all that, the look they share is one of unwavering love.
Turning my attention away from their display, I stick out my tongue and wrinkle my nose at my brother, sending him into a fit of giggles. We may be glad our parents love each other, but that doesn’t mean we need to see it.
“Of course, Sweetheart. Is there anything I need to bring along?” my mother asks once they’ve pulled away. They still stay close, as if they can’t stand to be too far away from each other.
“Just the basics. I’ll carry our tool set, but go ahead and pack a lunch, too. Just in case we’re out later than I expect,” he tells her, then turns back to where my brother and I sit.
My mother nods her head to my father in understanding and begins to go about preparing them an easy lunch. She grabs several pieces of jerky, a small pouch of nuts, and sticks in a piece of fruit. We don’t know the name of it, since it was never grown in Sector A, but it has a sweet flavor, despite the outside being a plain black. I’m not totally sure how they had discovered the sticky treat that was hidden inside, but I am glad for it, since it comprises a large portion of our diet.
“Sam, you know the rules while we’re gone. No leaving the nest, keep your voices down, and never—”
“Enter the Shade. We know, Dad. This isn’t the first time y’all have had to go off without us. We’ll be fine, though if you run across anymore of those pink berries, I wouldn’t mind you bringing some back,” I respond with a grin, and he lets out a laugh at my finishing his sentence.
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