“What?” Dylan asked, noticing the change in her expression. His brows furrowed in concern as he watched the fear spread across Zee’s face.
Alice put her warm hands lightly on Zee’s shoulder, surveying her with her brown eyes. “Do you remember something?” Her question was barely a whisper as it slipped across her lips.
The short hairs suddenly stood up on Zee’s neck. “He is coming.”
3
“Who is coming?” Alice’s grip tightened on Zee’s shoulder. Zee just stared back at her, her green eyes wide with a slight crazed look in them.
Dylan put down his cloth and walked over to the women. The floorboards groaned under his shifting weight. He looked from Zee to Alice. The tension in the air was so thick, he could taste it. Zee seemed like such an innocent person. For her to be so frightened, it broke his heart. He wanted to protect her, but he couldn’t until he knew what he was protecting her from.
Zee sighed and let her shoulders sag. Alice kept her hands on them, though Dylan doubted that it offered any comfort to Zee. They both waited in silence for what felt like forever, hoping that Zee would be able to stitch together part of her hidden past.
Dylan wondered what it must be like to wake up one day and not even be able to remember who you were or where you came from. But maybe Zee’s experience was so painful that her mind had locked it up until she was ready to process it. The desert that she was wandering in must have been hell, but Dylan realized that her trek through it was probably less terrifying than what happened before she ended up there. When Dylan first found Zee, he thought she was dead. He was out searching for prickly pear fruit about a half a mile from his homestead when he thought he saw a burlap sack nestled in the sand. Hoping that it contained something useful, he inched closer. To Dylan’s horror, he observed that the sack clothed a young woman.
Dylan’s instincts warned him that the woman could be trouble, and Alice frequently told him to be weary of sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. The discarded woman’s pulse beat weak beneath his fingers, but she didn’t move at his touch. He weighed his options as the sun hammered down on him, but he knew that he would never forgive himself if he left the poor woman there to die. As gently as he could, Dylan scooped her up and carried her home. The sun was unforgiving, but he pushed through his discomfort in the hopes that Alice could nurse the stranger back to health. The woman was in such bad shape that Alice didn’t even give Dylan the dirty look that she normally would have if he created a potentially dangerous situation.
Dylan’s parents hammered into their heads that strangers were innocent until proven guilty, and this poor woman lost and dying in the desert had done nothing to prove to Dylan that she had done anything wrong to deserve that type of death. Odds were, she pissed off the wrong steam wagon master who decided that her life wasn’t worth the food to take care of her, so he probably discarded her in the desert, hoping the sun and the sand would claim her. Dylan and Alice unanimously decided to nurse the stranger back to health and worry about the consequences, and possible dangers, later.
A distant bell pealed in the distance, ripping through his chest like a sword piercing through his heart and bringing him out of his reverie. He held his breath. “It’s an inspection.” Zee gazed up at him, breathing slowly, as if there was something soothing in his eyes. At that moment, they all feared that the unexpected inspection probably had something to do with Zee.
“Take her downstairs,” Alice whispered, looking around as if she was afraid to be overheard. She finally let go of Zee’s shoulders, as Dylan took her hand, careful not to press too hard on her pink skin. He could feel her vibrating with some sort of energy, like she was harnessing some forgotten magic within herself.
Zee is a secret that someone wants the world to forget. The thought reminded Dylan of something that his father had told him and Alice long ago…
Without a word he led Zee across the creaking floorboards to behind the bar. He leaned over and tossed up a small throw rug that his mother made. He reached for a long knife from under the bar and used it to pry up floorboards that were attached together like a make-shift trapdoor revealing a set of stairs that led into a dark basement.
“I can’t give you a light or they might see you. Try to be as quiet as you can. Will you be okay?” Dylan asked, noting the terrified expression on Zee’s face.
“Is it small?” Zee stared into the dark, a look of apprehension etched across her delicate features. “I don’t like small, dark places.” A shiver crept up her spine.
“No,” Dylan said with a smile. “It’s quite large. As soon as I can, I will show you what it looks like with a light on.” He gave her a hand to help guide her down the stairs and into the awaiting darkness.
Zee held onto herself, hugging her warm skin. She couldn’t see the walls around her; the blackness was suffocating. Zee knew this feeling. Being locked in the dark in a tiny space was all too familiar to her. She just hoped that she could remain calm. It’s quite large. She held onto Dylan’s words like a lifeline.
Yesterday Zee would have given anything to remember a shred of her past, but right now she hoped it would stay buried. It didn’t seem like it wanted to. The memories began to float to the surface, and suddenly she could remember spending days locked up in small, dark places. Zee couldn’t remember why, but she had a feeling it was punishment. Punishment that one day she could no longer take. So when she had enough, she found her forgotten strength.
Footsteps clacked overhead on the floor. Holding her breath, Zee peered above, straining to see through the cracks between the boards. The muffled voices above wafted down to the basement. She couldn’t make out everything, but it sounded like Alice and Dylan greeted someone. A man answered. He had a cruel voice. Zee didn’t have to make out what he was saying to know that it was Knox.
She shut her eyes and let her memory of him fill her. Zee envisioned his chiseled jaw and deep-set eyes. Those eyes were an ice blue and sent a shiver down Zee’s spine every time he looked at her. He was a mountain of a man who would pick her up and throw her in seclusion if she didn’t correctly follow their orders. There was some sort of cruel scent that clung to him, like he had an ancient evil residing inside his human form. The dark energy surrounding him was so strong Zee could always feel the change in the atmosphere when he came anywhere close to her.
Pieces were coming back to her, but she wasn’t yet sure how they fit together. Knox was some sort of an enforcer, enacting punishments as he saw fit and keeping people in constant fear of him.
She wondered if Alice and Dylan knew of Knox. He laughed wickedly, loud enough for the gravelly sound to dig into her ears. She wanted him gone—and soon. He was far too close for comfort.
Soon after the laugh, Zee heard footsteps headed towards the door of the bar. She finally let go of herself with a sigh of relief. She didn’t move for the next fifteen minutes, listening as Dylan and Alice carried on upstairs as if nothing was out of place. When the door above popped open, Zee had to stifle a scream, as she jumped from being startled.
“I’m coming down,” Dylan said from above. A yellow glow from a candle accompanied him as he crept down the stairs, sending illumination in all directions. Zee glanced around as her tiny, dark universe expanded. Boxes with cloth strapped to the front of them stood by her like tall guardians. There were stacks and stacks of what looked like cardboard pictures next to them. They ran in tiny columns along the side wall, directly beneath the bar above. Wires ran everywhere, like tiny rivers. Books were piled on shelves along the back wall.
“What is this place?” She whispered, amazed at all the forbidden stuff that surrounded her. I fit right in, she thought, knowing that Knox was here looking for her. If any of this stuff was ever found by Knox…
“Our grandparents started it. They didn’t want the old culture to be lost. My family has been passing down knowledge to our descendants, trying to keep the memories of the past glories of our culture alive. I’ve learned how to make them work.” Dyla
n scanned the room. “It helps me to get by, knowing that one day things won’t be like this anymore. Alice thinks it is foolish,” he added.
“I don’t think it is foolish,” Zee reassured him, noting the definition of his muscles, which looked more chiseled from the shadows cast from the candle. “What are those?” Zee pointed to the tall boxes with the fabric stretched over the one side.
Dylan smiled. “That’s the pride and joy of the collection. A record player complete with records and speakers. I’ve almost figured out how to get it to work.” Excitedly, Dylan pointed to the small steam engine on the floor that had wires connecting it to the record player. When Zee just stared at him blankly he added, “It can play music.”
Zee clasped a hand to her mouth. She was so delighted. Even though no one aside from Alice knew that this place existed, they were resisting. In their own small way, they were resisting. “Can you read?” She pointed to the bookshelf.
“Yes. Both Alice and I were taught to read.” A steam whistle blew overhead. “I’m sorry, but you have to stay down here. Feel free to touch anything you like. I’ll come back once the steam wagon is unloaded.”
Zee nodded with a smile. “Thank you, Dylan.”
He paused before climbing back up the stairs. “Don’t worry, Zee. We’ll keep you safe.”
4
The fire danced in her hand as she walked with the candle towards the stack of books at the far wall of the basement. It amazed her that books were forbidden. Zee knew how to read. In fact, she remembers that was the one thing she enjoyed of her former life. They let her read as much as she wanted. It was her reward for doing their tests. In fact, they wanted her in peak condition. She was supposed to be the best of the best. The smartest, the fastest…she was supposed to be a weapon. The only problem was, Zee didn’t like being told what to do, especially if she felt what she was being asked to do was immoral. They wanted a perfect soldier and ended up with a rebel. Zee smiled at the thought. They couldn’t change all of me.
She slid her fingers down the spine of the books, feeling the smoothness of the paper beneath her finger-tips. There was a volume of large, hard encyclopedias from the 1980s. It took up the entire bottom shelf of the bookcase. They were probably even helping to support the shelves above, being so massive themselves. The majority of the rest of the books were smaller and made of stiff paper, with a few of the hard board ones scattered about. She admired Dylan for keeping something so dangerous in the hidden basement. Her heart ached at his courage. Zee sighed, hoping that her presence here would not doom him and Alice. She didn’t want to start any trouble. She just wanted to live. But more than that, she didn’t want to go back to where they were keeping her…wherever that was.
Images and snippets of her memories were forming in her mind, like the coming clouds of a storm. Zee remembered being kept in a facility, dimly lit but cool. But if she was close to the desert, how was the building cool? Was it underground?
Zee sighed again and pulled a book from the shelf. Curling up in the corner, she set the candle in front of her and began reading. The soft glow of the flame danced across the words on the page. For the longest time words were the only friends that she had. Zee would find solace and escape in the pages she delved into after her torment by her captives. But now she had real friends; people that she could trust. She hummed softly to herself, letting the pages before her give her the hope that this world could be changed. If people like Dylan could quietly rebel, maybe others were ready to shake off the shackles of their oppressors.
Zee’s brow furrowed as she closed the book gently, watching the light flicker on the dark stairs in front of her. But what did she know of the lives these people led? Zee was kept somewhere with different rules. All that was forbidden here, she was given. Were the men who kept me the same men who oppress Dylan and his family? They didn’t seem too thrown off by the inspection by Knox, so perhaps they knew him. Maybe all of their enemies were the same. Maybe that was the thread of hope that pulled Zee in this direction across the desert.
Think about this next time you disobey. Do you think solitude is the worst thing that we can throw at you, Knox had said gruffly as he threw Zee out of the moving Jeep. Zee hugged herself fiercely, finally remembering how she ended up lost in the sand. They didn’t expect her to die; they wanted to break her spirit. But now their secret weapon was missing. Zee knew they would be frantic to find her. She would have to explain to Dylan and Alice everything that she could remember. Maybe they would understand why she would have to leave. Zee couldn’t keep them in danger, knowing that Knox and the others would stop at nothing to find her.
Dylan loaded the remaining bit of flour on the steam wagon that was their town’s payment for protection. Protection from what, he was never sure. It was probably more a bribery to keep Pierce and Knox from killing everyone. But the steam wagons gave them the essentials to live, and what they could produce as surplus the town was expected to give back. Although the Wagon Men, as Peirce, Knox, and the other steam wagon owners were called, sometimes had a different opinion on what “surplus” was. But all the townsfolk knew that if they couldn’t meet their quota, there would be hell to pay.
He wondered how Zee fit in. She must have been a slave or something. Possibly she escaped and that was how she ended up in the desert. Dylan wanted to protect her. He wasn’t sure what Zee went through, but it must have been horrible.
But no one at town seemed to know who Knox was looking for, even though all the men at the station were abuzz with rumors from the pop-inspection.
“It was clear he was looking for someone. It wasn’t the normal inspection. They don’t send Knox for inspections,” an older man said, stacking a burlap sack full of grain to take to the mill. Sweat beaded on his brow in the afternoon sun.
A younger man with copper hair laughed bitterly. “It must be a beast of a man they were looking for. My grandad used to say they only send the enforcers when there’s a rebel they can’t handle by the usual means.” He wiped the sweat from his forehead and sat down on a brick of salt.
Dylan thought for a moment. The two men had a point. Were the Train Men afraid of little Zee? “Who rebels anymore, Morton?” Dylan asked, knowing that if he didn’t pipe in to the conversation, it might seem odd.
Morton’s coper hair was aflame in the sun, as if his hair was made from fire. “No one in Brimstone, but that doesn’t mean that the other towns don’t.”
“Maybe he tried to start a rebellion, but the Train Men caught wind of it so he fled,” the older man mused as he brushed some sweat through his greying hair.
Dylan wanted the conversation to end before it reached dangerous territory. But men gossiped worse than women. And in a town where nothing out of the ordinary usually happened, hiding Zee wouldn’t be easy. But at least it seemed like everyone expected Knox to be after a man.
The older man was about to take his cart of grain to the mill when Morton piped up, “Who was that woman with Alice?”
Dylan’s breath hitched in his throat. He was glad Alice filled him in on Zee’s fake back story after Knox left. “She’s a family friend from Sand Haven,” he offered up, not wanting to give out too many details unless prompted by the other men.
“Maybe she’s heard of a rebellion,” Morton wondered more to himself than the others.
The older man snorted. “If Sand Haven was about to rebel, they would lock that town down so tight that no one would make it out.” With that, the older man picked up the handles of his cart and pushed the load down the wooden ramp. Dylan was relieved, but tried to hide his feelings under a mask of fatigue.
He clasped Morton on the back. “If I hear anything in the bar, I’ll let you know. But like Grim said,” he nodded in the direction of the older man pushing the cart, “word of a rebellion would never make it here. The Train Men would see to that.” And with that, Dylan walked back to his bar, lost in thought about Zee.
Dust kicked up from his feet, covering his legs in ruddy-colored
sand. Some days he wished the desert would swallow the steam wagons. They were their life-line, but also their shackles. And then there was Zee. She was dangerous to hide, but it would be immoral to make her leave. Dylan didn’t know her long, but Zee seemed so sweet and innocent. Maybe that was why he couldn’t piece together how she fit in with the Train Men.
A bell rang suddenly in the distance, splitting through the din of the town. Dylan glanced up to see a dark brown wall headed straight for them. A dust storm. He ran to get to the bar in time to lock everything down. He jumped onto the wooden porch in front of the bar, and raced around the perimeter to lock down the shutters. The wind suddenly picked up violently just as he finished. He fought to shut the front door against the gusting wind and was finally able to bolt it shut. It was a good thing he kept the bar closed while he was unloading the steam wagon, as he and Zee would be stuck indoors for a while. Alice was already safe back at the homestead on her loom, but Dylan and Zee wouldn’t be able to make it back there before the storm hit. They had to wait it out here.
Sand ground on the walls outside, sounding more like water than earth, as Dylan checked the upstairs shutters to make sure that they were all still bolted shut. Dylan was glad that the rooms upstairs were empty, as it ensured that both Zee and him wouldn’t have any unwanted company. He slowly made his way back downstairs through the darkness of the bar. With all the windows shut and the sandstorm blotting out any remaining light outside, Dylan needed a candle to find the trapdoor. He felt behind the bar on the shelf where he kept the candles and matches. After a few moments, his hand finally found the shaft of a waxy candle. The wooden box of matches was immediately next to it. Carefully, Dylan lit the match and a solitary flame burst from the tip of the splinter of wood. He watched the one flame become two as he eased it over to the wick. After shaking out the match, he crouched down, threw back the carpet and pried open the floorboards. The hinges creaked in protest, but Dylan’s heart beat in anticipation at seeing Zee again. She was a mystery that needed solving. And she seemed so optimistic and not wiling to accept things the way they were, so unlike the women of his town who were hardened from years of labor and strict deadlines. Zee seemed to question authority, not to rebel for the sake of going against the rules but to try to make the world a better place. She believed that people should be treated better than the townsfolks were currently.
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