The Final Trade

by Joe Hart

  A murmur of conversation fills the hallway and a moment later Merrill, Chelsea, and Ian appear in the doorway.

  “Can we come in?” Merrill asks.

  She nods.

  They take positions in a half circle around her.

  “How is she?” Zoey asks.

  “Alive,” Chelsea says. “Beyond that I can’t say. She’s still unconscious, malnourished, dehydrated among other things.”

  “Other things. She’s been raped.”

  Chelsea’s lips form a bloodless line. “Yes.”

  “Beaten?”

  “It looks that way. We bathed her, moved her to a clean bed, tried getting some fluids in her. Eli and Tia are looking for medical supplies in the lower levels. If we can find an IV it would really help.”

  “Have Rita and Sherell seen her yet?”

  “Yes,” Merrill says. “After we got her situated they went in and visited her.” He moves closer, kneeling down so that she is slightly above him. “What can you tell us?”

  She releases a shaky breath. “Halie’s a little over a year older than me. She was always kind and considerate. Her best friend at the ARC was Grace. They were inducted a few months apart.” A numbness like the kind that used to inhabit her legs tries to seep into her mind. She almost welcomes it.

  “I thought Terra told you that when NOA was done with the women they were killed,” Chelsea says.

  “She did.” Zoey gazes down into the cup she holds. “Maybe they said that to frighten her. Maybe she assumed it, I don’t know. The fact is, Halie’s here, which can only mean one of two things.”

  “Either she escaped . . .” Merrill says.

  “Or NOA let her out,” Zoey finishes.

  “Why would they let her out? What purpose would that serve?” Chelsea asks.

  “You’re right. What purpose?” Zoey says, mind warring against the invading paralysis. “They always have an agenda, some reason for what they do. How would they benefit by setting her free?”

  The room falls quiet for a time, before Ian shifts from where he stands against the wall. “When she recovers, perhaps she’ll be able to tell us.”

  “What if she doesn’t recover?” Zoey asks. “What if . . .”

  “We’re going to take good care of her,” Chelsea says. “She’s safe now. You should get some rest too.”

  “I can’t sleep.” She chews on her lower lip. “Halie had a breakdown before she was inducted. She attacked a guard and they put her in the box. I wonder if she was afraid to leave the ARC. If they’d institutionalized her so much the thought of freedom sent her over the edge. And now look what they’ve done to her.” Zoey takes a shuddering breath. “I want to talk to them.”

  “Who? Ken and the others? That’s not a good idea,” Merrill says.

  “I need to know.”

  “And we’ll find out, but first let’s think about the best—”

  “That’s my friend in there, and it could’ve been me,” she whispers, the words almost choking her. “I can’t even imagine the type of suffering she went through. I waited all my life for answers. Please, Merrill.”

  His face contorts and he struggles with something before slowly nodding. “Stay out of their reach and keep the door open. We want to hear everything they’re saying.”

  “Thank you.”

  Downstairs, she finds Rita and Sherell standing outside the room where the men are locked up. Both of them have dried tear tracks on their faces and hollow eyes.

  “How . . . how?” Sherell asks, unable to finish the question.

  “I don’t know,” Zoey answers. “They must have let her out after induction.”

  “Why would they do that?” Rita says.

  Zoey shrugs. “That’s what we’re going to find out. Have they been tied up yet?” She nods toward the door.

  “Yeah. Eli used some plastic straps to secure their hands,” Rita says, sniffling.

  “Good. Did Eli give you the keys?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Open the door.”

  Rita gives her a long look before pulling out the ring and finding the correct key. She twists the knob, letting Zoey step inside.

  The seven men sit with their backs to the wall, hands bound behind them to a pipe running the length of the room near the floor. Benny is the closest on the right while Ken sits at the opposite end of the line. Every man looks up and stares as she enters and stands before them. The room stinks of sweat.

  “Where did you find the woman upstairs?” she asks.

  “Pretty, ain’t she, boys?” Ken says. “Gonna tear her apart, aren’t we?”

  Some of the men rumble their assent, their gazes hungry, unflinching.

  “I’ll ask you one more time. Where did you find her?”

  “The rest of our contingent should be back tonight,” Ken says, giving her a smile. “See, we’re part of a much larger group. They go out on a scouting trip every few weeks and they should be returning any time now. Ain’t that right, boys?”

  There is a chorus of “yep” and “that’s right.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “You’ll all be gathering flies by the time the sun comes up, and we’ll be free.”

  “Then there’s no harm in telling me where she came from.”

  Ken smiles wider. “No. I guess there isn’t.” He adjusts himself and tips his head toward the door. “Tell you what. I’m thirsty and I gotta piss. You let me out, I relieve myself, get some water, I tell you everything you want to know.”

  She glances to the doorway where Merrill has appeared. He shakes his head. “Tell me first, then you can go.”

  Ken runs his eyes from her feet to her face. “My hands are tied. You gonna hold it for me?” A few men laugh.

  She returns his stare for a long moment before turning toward the door. She gets two steps before he calls out to her.

  “Calm down, missy, I was just having some fun. I’ll tell you where she came from.”

  Zoey returns to the center of the room. “Start talking.”

  “You ever heard of the Fae Trade?”

  A tremor runs through her. “Yes.”

  “But do you really know what it is?”

  “It’s an auction that sells women and any men who try to harbor them.”

  “Wrong. It’s so much more than that. It’s a spectacle, darling. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. You know what a carnival is?”

  “I’ve read about them.”

  “Well the Fae Trade is the most wonderful carnival in the world. It’s been traveling from coast to coast for a couple decades. Comes through once a year. There’s games, good food, entertainment, you name it. But you’re wrong about the auction part.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean if you want a woman, especially one as young as our girl upstairs, you put up a bid. But it’s not only a bid of cash, it’s also for your life.”

  Zoey frowns. “What are you talking about?”

  “Let me tell you a little story,” Ken says, his grin exposing his yellow teeth. “There once was a couple who had a little girl that they loved beyond anything else in the world. They raised her the best they could, but the girl, she had a rebellious streak in her, a little fire. So she starts getting into drugs and drinking like any kid does when they’re seventeen or so. But that really wasn’t the problem. Love was. She fell for a guy from the wrong side of the tracks, so to speak. He was charismatic and funny but he also relied on his fists to express some of his innermost feelings.”

  Ken pauses, licking his lips. “Now he would beat her up a little and she’d run back home to Mommy and Daddy and they’d be angry but glad that she’d come back. They tried calling the cops on the guy, but every time their daughter would vouch for him, tell the authorities that he hadn’t hit her at all. Needless to say, this was one of those vicious circles that just went round and round and round. And I’m sure it would’ve kept going for a while but something came along that upset the cycle.”
>
  “What was that?” Zoey asks impatiently.

  “The Dearth,” Ken says. “See, the lawlessness was just taking hold when the charming boyfriend with the itchy fists went a little too far one night. He beat her to death and left her in his apartment to rot. It was days before her parents found her and by then the guy was long gone. Not that the police did anything about it. They had bigger fish to fry. Riots, fires, civil war. Who had time to look for a guy who killed his girlfriend?”

  “What does this have to do with Halie?”

  “Halie. Aww, see we never knew her name. She’d never tell us, no matter how persuasive we were. Mmm, Halie. I like that. Slides right off the tongue.” Several of the men laugh again.

  Zoey draws her gun and points it at Ken’s smiling face. “Don’t you ever say her name again.” She’s shaking but her aim is steady. “Finish the story.”

  Ken clears his throat. “Where was I? Ah yes. The girl’s parents, they didn’t take their daughter’s death well. They were angry, not only at the man that took her from them, but at their daughter as well. She didn’t heed their warnings, didn’t know what was best for her. This couple, they owned a small, traveling carnival and they went on the road. No one really bothered them, because they provided entertainment and everyone needs entertainment, even at the end of the world.

  “But see, here’s where things get a little twisted. In each young woman they found, they saw their daughter. Young, rebellious, not smart enough for her own good. So they took each girl in and put her up for bid. I’m guessing they figured any man who would fight to the death for the right to have one of them was a step better than who their daughter had ended up with.”

  Zoey lowers the handgun, slowly processing what Ken said. “They let men bid for the women, then fight to the death?”

  “You got it, missy. That’s what the Fae Trade is, and the true spectacles are those battles that sometimes go on for days when the woman’s young or pretty enough. You put up the cash, then kill until there’s no one left except for the best man.”

  “That’s what you did.” Zoey spits the words. “That’s where she came from. Then you brought her back here and used her.”

  “Now, you gotta understand. You caught us at an inopportune time here. See, she wasn’t always in that state you found her in. Normally we treated her good. Fed her, clothed her, mostly.” Ken stops the grin that tries to crawl onto his face. “She was being punished for a little escape attempt a few weeks back. She got the better of your friend Benny over there and managed to get past the fence. Normally she was treated like a queen.”

  Zoey spins away, unable to look at Ken anymore. She knows if she stays, she’ll kill him. Kill them all.

  “Hey! Sweetcheeks! How about our deal? Still gotta piss here,” Ken says.

  She stops at the door, not looking back. “Normally I treat people better. But you’re being punished,” she says, and steps out into the hallway.

  Merrill, Ian, and Chelsea all stand outside the door along with Rita and Sherell. Zoey sucks in the open air of the hallway, air that doesn’t smell of men, their pores, their breath. Rita locks the door, muffling Ken’s indignant yells to murmurs.

  “You heard what he said?” Zoey asks, scanning the group. They are all solemn eyes, bleached expressions.

  “I never thought . . .” Chelsea says. “We always heard stories but nothing like that.”

  “NOA must give or sell them to the Fae Trade—that’s the most logical way Halie ended up there. They’re handed over and auctioned off.” Zoey glances at each of them. “And I bet the trade notifies NOA if they come upon a woman young enough for their research.”

  There is a stunned silence as her words sink in. She knows it’s the truth even as she considers other scenarios. It’s like a fact in one of Ian’s encyclopedias.

  “Fucking monsters,” Rita says quietly. “All of them.”

  “What are we going to do?” Sherell asks. “Do you think he’s telling the truth about a larger group?”

  “He’s lying,” Zoey says. “I could see it. He’s arrogant enough to think they’re going to get free.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” Merrill says. “But it won’t hurt to keep a lookout in the tower at all times. Who wants first shift?”

  “I’ll take it,” Ian says. He shoulders his rifle from where it leans against the wall.

  “We’ll switch every couple hours,” Merrill says. “I’ll work up a schedule for guarding them too.”

  “Where’s the other one?” Zoey asks. “Lyle. Why isn’t he in with the rest of them?”

  “He’s still claiming he was a prisoner here like Halie. He said they were using him to get that big vehicle in the garage running,” Chelsea says.

  “Which room is he in?”

  “That one,” Rita says, pointing at a door across the hall.

  “Can I speak to him?”

  “If you want. When we talked to him earlier he was scared to death, we didn’t get much out of him. But I think he’s telling the truth. Maybe he’ll open up a little more to you,” Merrill says.

  Rita moves to the door and opens it. Inside Lyle sits on the floor with his back against the wall, hands bound behind him like the other men. Zoey stops near his splayed feet.

  “Hello. My name is Zoey.”

  He is slow answering. “Hello.”

  “Who are you, Lyle?”

  He swallows dryly, eyes watering behind his glasses. “Nobody. I’m nobody.”

  “If you’re nobody they wouldn’t have kept you around. Unless you’re lying and you are with the rest of them.”

  “I’m not.” Lyle shakes his head. “You have to believe me.”

  “Then tell us who you are.”

  He sighs, looking down at his grease-stained knees. “I’m from Boise. Lived there all my life. I was a computer programmer and technician with a software company, NewScan. Ever heard of them?” His voice is almost hopeful as he gazes up at her. “Course not. You’re too young. Everything had gone down by the time you were born, I bet. I lived with my parents. Both of them had diabetes. Had it pretty bad. One day when I went to the pharmacy to get their insulin, it was on fire and there were people shooting one another on the next street over.” Lyle stops, his brow furrowing. “My dad went first; he was always worse off than Mom. Couldn’t quit the sweets. Mom died two weeks after him. Both of them smelled like fruit from the hypoglycemia.” Lyle lets out a small, choked laugh that he stifles by tucking his chin to his chest.

  Zoey crouches down so that she’s level with him. “I’m sorry.”

  Lyle jerks his head in response. “It’s okay. It happened a long time ago, so . . .” He sniffles once and begins to stare at a corner of the room. “I buried them in the backyard and hid in the house until I ran out of food. Then I roamed for a bit. The president was already dead then, everything was gone. I met up with a small group who was traveling north and we joined a little community south of here. They were dedicated to restarting things. There were a few women who were pregnant. Course they gave birth to boys, but it was something. Everything was okay for quite a while. Then the trade came through.”

  “The Fae Trade?”

  “Yes.” Lyle swallows again. “They took the women, killed some who tried to fight back, captured others. I only survived by hiding in a crawlspace under one of the houses. I’m a coward.” Lyle finally meets her eyes and his gaze is like shattered glass. “That’s the only way I’ve lived this long.” He falls quiet and readjusts himself on the floor. “That’s who I am.”

  Zoey studies him for a moment. “How did you come to be here?”

  “Those bastards in the next room captured me and were going to kill me until they found out I was tech savvy. They forced me to work on that military vehicle in the garage. They want to use it when they go out scavenging. They kept me locked up at night.”

  “How long have you been here?”

  “Almost a year. I’m not sure, I’ve lost track of time.”
>
  “And you haven’t been able to fix the vehicle?”

  A glint of humor enters Lyle’s face. “I could have fixed it after the first week. I just never told them that. I don’t think I would’ve been worth much after it was running.”

  Zoey appraises him before standing. “Did you ever touch the woman they were keeping upstairs?”

  “No. God no. Of course not.”

  “Because they wouldn’t let you, or because you think it’s wrong?”

  “Because it’s wrong. Lord, I’m not an animal like them. If I could’ve done anything to help her . . .” He wrestles with something and falls silent.

  “When she’s able to speak, she’s going to tell me the truth.” Zoey lowers her voice. “And if you’re lying, you’ll answer to me.”

  “I’m not lying.”

  “I hope so. One last question. Have you ever heard of the National Obstetric Alliance?”

  “Course. Everyone has.”

  “How about around here? Have they ever said anything about it? Mentioned it in reference to this place?”

  “No. But I’m not sure all of them can read.”

  She frowns. “What do you mean?”

  “Because there’s a room downstairs with papers everywhere that have NOA written on them.”

  9

  The door is as inconspicuous as any other in the installation.

  It sits to the left, third down on the long corridor running underneath the facility. Ahead, the cement hallway is lit by staggered fluorescent panels, several bulbs humming and flickering in their cages like animals. The end of the hall splits, ten ways from what Eli says. Each individual tunnel leads to one of the missiles that are dug into the ground and capped by a hydraulic, steel covering.

  But it isn’t the missiles Zoey wants to see. She needs what is behind the door.

  Her fingers tingle as she reaches out and twists the knob.

  Pushes it open to a dark room.

  “The switch is on your left,” Lyle says from behind her. He stands with his hands bound before him. Merrill and Tia flank the small man.