The Bleeding Crowd

by Jessica Dall

  “To say the least,” Dahlia responded. “Hopefully your day hasn’t been nearly as thrilling.”

  “Hardly. I tried to figure out how to get the TV working, again, and once again failed miserably.”

  She smiled to herself. “Are you hungry?”

  “I could eat,” he said.

  “I’ll order out,” Dahlia said.

  He stood, allowing her to finish typing things into the pad by the door before wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her neck.

  “You know, you’re overly affectionate today.” She couldn’t stop herself from tensing, tilted her head away from him.

  He smiled. “Maybe those endorphins are messing with my head.”

  “Oh, don’t go all gooey on me.” She turned to face him. “I’ve come to rely on you as a sparring partner. You won’t be nearly as entertaining if you’re all love struck.”

  He kissed her forehead. “I just care about you, Lia. That isn’t a crime.”

  “No.” She sighed. “It isn’t a crime.”

  “So, then... while we wait...”

  She rolled her eyes. “After dinner, maybe. I didn’t get to shower this morning and I seriously need one.”

  “I could come with you.”

  “I don’t think so.” She shook her head. “I’ll be out in ten minutes or so. The food shouldn’t be here before that.”

  Ben nodded, watching her close the bathroom door behind her. He stood still until the water started running, and then moved to the plastic container. Glancing at the bathroom door, he opened the lip, slipped a couple of the pills into the pocket on the inside of his pant leg, and placed everything back so it looked exactly as it had been.

  * * * *

  Independence Day was one of the few truly big holidays celebrated worldwide. It started a month before the actual day when the entire town was decorated in purple and white during a daylong ceremony, which Dahlia hadn’t attended since she had been in Rose. Then, a week before the day, events started downtown that put everything except the Patience’s Birthday celebration in late December to shame. Each year it seemed it would be impossible to outdo what they had done the year before, and every year they still managed to accomplish that. This year, outdoing themselves meant putting lights under the fountain in the town square next to the government pavilion. Each light made the streams of water that arched from the center appear purple or white with the light lasting until the stream hit the pool at the bottom.

  The Independence Week parties were known to last until sunup, and even the Silvers managed to find their ways down to the festivities. By 22:00, however, Dahlia was ready to throw in the towel. She found Zoë and Claire, the ones who wouldn’t be in the center of the crowd like Cassandra and Audrey. Dahlia hadn’t seen those two since they arrived and she refused to follow them to the heart of the party.

  She touched Zoë’s arm, leaning in to be heard over the music. “I think I’m going to call it a night.”

  Zoë turned to face her. “Seriously?”

  “Well, maybe humorously, but I could say it seriously too.”

  “Don’t be a jerk.” Zoë rolled her eyes.

  “Sorry. Been a long day.” Dahlia smiled, saying her final goodbyes, instructing them to convey the goodbyes to Cassandra and Audrey. No doubt, they had found their way to the thick of things. Dahlia moved to the coat check. She smiled at the overly enthusiastic coat check girl, threw her coat over her arm to put on once she was away from the heaters set up over the square and took her bag moving over to the tram stop.

  She could see the light on in her room from across the courtyard. She sighed, pressed her card to the pad, and stepped inside. “You really need to stop just showing up. I’m going to have a friend over one of these days and then when you show up—”

  “I expected you back earlier,” Ben said.

  “I was at the party downtown with my friends. It’s Independence Week you know.”

  “I knew that,” he said. “I thought you weren’t a party type of girl, though.”

  “What gave you that idea?”

  “The fact that you told me you aren’t really into the whole party thing.”

  “My friends dragged me along.” Dahlia shrugged. “Why are you here? You’ve only been gone a day.”

  “I missed you,” he said.

  “Oh, god.” Dahlia sighed. “Stop it, Ben.”

  “I’m allowed my emotions.”

  “Well, you get this sickeningly emotional on me and I’m sending you home.”

  “Fine,” he said. “I wanted to see you. Is that better?”

  “Marginally.” Dahlia slid her coat off, throwing it over the back of the desk chair.

  “All right, I wanted to get laid.” He grinned. “Am I in the ballpark yet?”

  She looked at him. “Things not going well at the camp?”

  He frowned. “What?”

  “You have another bruise.” She nodded at his arm.

  “I ran into something.” He looked at his wrist.

  “You aren’t that clumsy.” She took his hand, examining the bruise. “Looks like someone grabbed you.”

  He pulled away. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Is it from the same person who cut you?”

  “I can hold my own, Lia. Don’t worry yourself about it.”

  She shook her head. “Well, I’m just trying to figure out if you’re here to see me or looking for a ‘safe house’.”

  “I’m here to see you,” he said. “I’m high up in the scheme of things over there. I don’t need to run.”

  “Well, then, I’m tired tonight, Ben. I’ve had a long day.”

  “Come on now.” Ben looked at her.

  She sighed at his persistence. “You’re so annoying.”

  “Then let me make that up to you.”

  “Correction, you’re incorrigible.”

  “You like it.”

  She crossed her arms and looked at him for a long moment. “Fine. I’m going to wash up.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he said.

  She smiled. “Didn’t think you were.”

  * * * *

  The next morning, Ben groaned. “How have you lived with those damn chimes for twenty years?”

  Dahlia stretched and then moved across the room to turn them off. “Generally by becoming very, very irritated.”

  “You have to work?” He watched her.

  She pulled her robe on and then looked at the weather. “Great, fourteen degrees and rainy. Beautiful.”

  “I don’t think that’s an answer to the question ‘do you have work’.”

  “Yeah.” She sighed. “Yes I do. I’m really tempted just to crawl back in bed though.”

  “I would fully support you giving in to that urge.”

  She smiled to herself, pressing another button.

  Ben sighed and looked at the screen on the window. “Isn’t that your fountain?”

  “Yeah, they’re warning about more in-depth construction.” She pointed at the headline. “You see? Fountain to Undergo Renovations.”

  He looked at it for a moment and then at her. “How would I be able to tell anything from that?”

  “It’s not that hard to figure out.” Dahlia smiled. “F-O-U-N—foun, like in found—T-A-I...”

  She didn’t continue. Ben frowned, shifting on the bed. “What’s wrong?”

  “A-I...” she murmured and then looked at him. “Have you learned any of your letters?”

  He studied her, cautious. “Is this a trick question?”

  She shook her head. “Just a question.”

  He paused and then shook his head. “No, not really.”

  “None at all?”

  He hesitated. “Not like I had anyone to help me learn them.”

  She released a breath. “Mail.”

  He knitted his eyebrows. “I am male.”

  “No, mail. M-A-I-L. You spelt it when we met. If you don’t know your letters, if you’re illiterate, how cou
ld you spell it?”

  “I...” Ben hesitated. “I just heard it around. I can know what the names of letters are without—”

  “Ben, can you read?”

  He opened his mouth, and then shut it again, nodding at last. “Yes.”

  “Why in the world would you lie about something like that?”

  He shrugged and waited.

  “Ben,” she snapped.

  He chewed on the inside of his lip. “People are less cautious about what they leave lying around when they think we can’t read it.”

  She pulled her robe tighter around her. “You’re a spy?”

  “Well...” He considered what to say. “Spy is a strong word.”

  “What word is more appropriate then?”

  “I’m...” He paused. “An observer.”

  “An observer of what, exactly?”

  “Of... you. All of you. Womankind.”

  “So, I’ve been a case study for you?”

  “No.”

  “You’ve been observing me.”

  “No, well, yes, but you aren’t high enough up to be of any real use to us. I was supposed to try to get you to send me back weeks ago.”

  “What were you hoping for? Someone who could give you government secrets? A way to...” She trailed off.

  “Okay, I’ve learned you stopping midsentence is never—”

  “Revolution?” She cut him off.

  Ben pressed his lips together and didn’t say anything.

  “You’re planning on...” She paused a moment. “And you found someone you could get to hide you. Apparently I’ve been very useful.”

  “No.” He frowned. “Well, you’ve been unwittingly very helpful, but it wasn’t all about just getting your help. I like you.”

  She scoffed. “Why should I believe that, Ben?”

  “Because it’s the truth.”

  “I don’t know if I think anything you’ve said to me has been the truth.”

  “It is the truth, Lia,” he insisted.

  She pressed a few buttons on the pad.

  Ben frowned. “What did you do?”

  “You can read,” Dahlia snapped, nodding at the wall. “You figure it out.”

  “Lia, I swear, I wasn’t using you. Well, I guess I was in a way, but it wasn’t all about, whatever. I—”

  “I’m sending you home,” she said. “I don’t trust myself not to be rash right now, so you’re going home until I sort things out.”

  “Dah—”

  “Don’t talk to me right now.” She pointed at him. “You don’t want me to think about this anymore right now.”

  “Please,” he said in a quiet voice.

  “Really. Don’t.” She frowned, moving to the bathroom.

  “Lia,” he said, listening as the bathroom door slammed and locked.

  He released a breath, sitting down and resting his head in his hands before finally standing again, pulling his clothes on. He felt the slight lump in his pant leg and paused. He looked at the doors, first the bathroom, then the front and then the sliding window one, and moved to her medical bag. Quickly he found bottles that she had used on him before, the ones that he had a vague recollection of what they should be used for, and slipped them into the pockets, distributing them equally and separating them with gauze and other, nonmetallic, first aid supplies. He shut the bag again and checked the time. It would take another ten minutes or so for them to reach him.

  He stood, hesitating for a second, and then went to the bathroom door. “Dahlia?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “If you’re listening, I never meant to hurt you. I just wanted to say that.”

  There was no sound to show whether she heard him.

  He sighed, disappointed. “Thank you. For everything.”

  He smoothed the slight bulges at the bottom of his pants, and sat on the bed to wait for the guards.

  * * * *

  Jude watched in silence as Ben emptied his pockets. He shook his head. “Damn.”

  “Well, I doubt I’m going back,” Ben said tersely. “I figured if there was any time when I should stock up, it was now.”

  Jude frowned. “What did you do?”

  “Nothing,” Ben lied. “Well, nothing dangerous to us at least. I just pissed her off.”

  “So, you thought you’d complete that entire situation by stealing from her?”

  “We need supplies.” Ben shrugged.

  Jude nodded. “So, we don’t have her?”

  “It would seem that way, yeah.”

  “But we have Heather, and...”

  Ben held up his hand for him to stop. “We have a plan. Call the guys together; we’re going to finalize it.”

  “Can do.” Jude smiled.

  * * * *

  “What’s up with you?” Cassandra looked at what she could see of Dahlia across the table.

  “Nothing.” Dahlia looked up from her menu. “Why?”

  “You have this weird look on your face.”

  Dahlia shook her head. “I’m just deciding what to eat.”

  “Bull,” Cassandra said.

  “Fine, I’m deciding if it’s worth switching men, or just not calling this one up anymore. I’m bored with him.”

  “Well that’s what happens when you don’t have sex with them.” Cassandra grinned at her.

  “How often do you switch?”

  Her friend appeared to think about it. “Generally around a month or so. Depends on the guy.”

  “So then I’m overdue,” Dahlia said. “Been over two months.”

  “So you’d have to switch soon anyway,” Cassandra said. “Why don’t you switch and actually choose a guy you’re interested in this time?”

  “How about you let me decide my own sex life?”

  “Just saying, you don’t know what you’re missing.”

  Dahlia looked back at her menu. “So, how about that party last night?”

  “Nice transition.” Cassandra rolled her eyes.

  “Well, it’s all Audrey talked about this morning.”

  “Probably all she can think about,” Cassandra said. “I think she hasn’t slept yet. Came straight from the party to work.”

  “I’m surprised you weren’t with her.”

  “I ended up trying to figure out where you went.”

  “I was tired,” Dahlia said. “I told Zoë to let you know I left.”

  “What? Are you eighty?” Cassandra looked her over.

  “Yes, yes I am.”

  “Are you at least coming tonight?”

  “I was thinking of resting up tonight so I could actually last the full time tomorrow,” Dahlia said

  “You’re so boring, Lia. Why am I friends with you again?”

  “Because you need someone who won’t be sitting in the cell next to you to bail you out when you’re arrested for disturbing the peace?”

  “That happened once.” Cassandra held up her index finger.

  “Once more than it’s happened to me,” Dahlia said.

  “Because you’re boring. So, what was my original point?”

  “Did you have an original point?”

  Cassandra shook her head. “You sure you don’t want to come downtown tonight?”

  “Sleep is my friend.”

  “I’ll take a lot of pictures to show you what you missed.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  “I think Claire isn’t going either,” Cassandra continued. “You two can commiserate about what you missed tomorrow.”

  “We’ll start a support group,” Dahlia said.

  Cassandra sighed. “You’re seriously not going?”

  “Seriously,” Dahlia said.

  “I’ve obviously failed somewhere with you.” Cassandra shook her head.

  “Indeed you did.”

  Chapter Eight

  In her room, Dahlia sat at her desk, tapping the pen against the desk. If there was ever something she wanted on paper rather than where someone could see it, this was it. She
released a breath.

  Pros: No odd questions. Another three months before I have to choose again. I’m going to have to anyway.

  Cons: Don’t know who will end up in the lineup. Yet another guy to deal with.

  Dahlia paused. Never see Ben again. Something in the back of her mind that she couldn’t shut up nagged making her stomach knot again. She refused to write that down. Refused to acknowledge it. Even if she cared, he had a good two weeks left with her anyway. No reason to plan around two weeks. Two weeks she didn’t even care about to start with.

  The door opened and then shut with a click. She froze and turned cautiously. Ben stood in the doorway, his face serious, determined, somehow hard. She turned away, looking at the paper in front of her. “You don’t want to be here.”

  “Yes I do.” Ben didn’t move from the doorway.

  “Oh really.” She hardened herself, looked at him.

  “I had to talk to you,” he said.

  “I haven’t called anyone on you thus far, Ben.” She stood flexing her hands nervously. “You really want to make me reconsider that decision?”

  “Fine,” Ben called her bluff, holding his hands out as if invite her to hit him. “Turn me in.”

  “Maybe I will.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Fine.” Ben nodded once. “Just let me speak my piece first.”

  She didn’t answer.

  He paused. “Please?”

  She still didn’t say anything, but gave a slight nod.

  He didn’t attempt to couch it. “We are starting a revolution.”

  The annoyed look on her face morphed into one of utter shock until she recovered and hardened her features again. “You’re trying to mess with my head.”

  “No,” he said. “We’re getting as many men as we can together, and we’re fighting our way out or going to die trying.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” She frowned.

  “Because.” He took a breath. “Because if we succeed, if we get out, I want you to join us.”

  “Join you,” she repeated.

  “We need a doctor with us. We’re fighting for our lives, for our freedom. We need all the help we can get.”

  “So why come to me?”

  “Because you’re a good person,” he said. “Because you know me. Because we have no other recourse. You have your society, but only because you’re subjugating an entire half of the human race. Do you really think that’s right?”