“And your plan makes you as corrupt as Farnsworth.” Phoenix stares down Gunnar. “I’ve known it for a while now. I’ve seen it in the way you treated Veronica. You’re not after peace or making this a better world. You’re after power.”
“And you’re not?”
“No,” Phoenix responds, shrugging his shoulders.
“Then if our plans don’t match,” Gunnar lifts the gun higher, “I see no reason to keep you around.”
“He’s the leader of your revolution,” I blurt, suddenly terrified.
“Shut up,” Gunnar barks. “I’m not going to listen to the vile words you spew.” He moves so he can point his gun at me.
At that, Phoenix draws his gun and points it at Gunnar.
“So here we are.” Phoenix’s voice remains relaxed as he speaks, but his muscles are taught. “You shoot her, I’ll shoot you. You shoot me, she’ll shoot you.”
I look at Phoenix. He knows I don’t have a gun, but Gunnar doesn’t. I may very well have a small pistol hidden in my boot. And considering what Gunnar thinks of me, he would absolutely believe I would kill him. We stand for what feels like minutes, no one daring to move. My breath is labored and sweat pours off me like running water. Finally, I can take no more.
“Enough,” I yell, stepping in between them. “Enough.” And suddenly I hear the sound of another gun cock. I turn to face Buzzcut, also holding his gun. He is pointing the gun back and forth, between Gunnar, Phoenix, and me.
“So is this what you want?” I ask, turning in a circle and addressing each of them. “You want to turn on one another? You have so few people already, what would you do if you separated now?” I look directly at Phoenix. “Even if I got you to Farnsworth’s door, then what? You kill him, his army kills you, and that’s the end of it. They replace him with some equally brutal, uncaring leader.” I turn to Gunnar. “And you?” I look at him with disgust. “You kill Phoenix and who do you have? Her?” I ask, pointing at Gretchen. “Well, you’d better think twice about that. Every inch of that girl is a traitor. And a liar. She’ll tell you whatever it is you need to hear. But don’t kid yourself, Gunnar, she is as power hungry as you are.”
Gunnar looks at Gretchen uneasily as I turn to Buzzcut. “That leaves you. What are you going to do alone?” Sweat continues to pour off my body. “Huh? When everyone’s dead? Best you can hope for is a hyper shooting spree some distance away from Farnsworth, where you’ll inevitably hit civilians, because you’ll never get to Farnsworth alone. You’re just not smart enough.”
Buzzcut gasps and points his gun at me. In that instant, I realize what I can do. I’m sorry to break my promise and leave my girls alone, but I have no choice.
“How about you, Gunnar?” I ask with my heart racing. “You going to let Buzzcut here beat you to the prize? You’ve wanted to kill me from the moment you laid eyes on me. Well?” I goad him. Gunnar cocks his gun. “Good,” I shout, terrified. “Good. Kill me and go back to your mission.” The tears blind me as they stream down my face. “All of you need to focus on what matters here. These girls.”
I point at Raven. She runs to my side, and I smile at her before pushing her behind me for safety. “Kill me, but get yourselves together and finish this revolution you started.”
I push Raven toward Phoenix. She hides behind him. At that Gunnar and Buzzcut walk closer to me pointing their weapons—one at my head, and one at my heart. I turn back and smile at Raven and then at Phoenix. The prospect of impending death makes one very bold.
“That’s enough.” Phoenix steps forward. “No one is killing her. And we are not killing each other.” He turns to face Gunnar. “Go. Take Gretchen and go.”
“I won’t fight for you anymore.” Gunnar is resolute.
“I know,” Phoenix answers him, sadly.
“What about me?” Buzzcut asks.
“You’ve got to make your own choice,” Phoenix tells him. “You can stay with me and the revolution, but that revolution will involve Veronica, in one way or another.”
“That’s bogus, man.”
“I’m sorry,” Phoenix states, “but that’s the way it’s going to be.”
“This is bull—” Buzzcut lifts his gun and points it directly at me. Before I realize what is happening I’m startled by the sound of a gunshot.
“Raven?” I yell out names. “Lulu? Phoenix?” I take a roll call to see if everyone I care about is okay.
Raven and Phoenix are standing there, perfectly still. But across from me, I see Lulu, her arm dangling at her side, holding a small pistol.
“Lulu?” I ask, walking toward her. “Lulu? Did you shoot him?” I point to Buzzcut who is lying on the ground.
Phoenix and Gunnar are hovering over him, attending to him. She stares past me for a long while, and then slowly, she raises her eyes up to meet mine.
“Yes,” she replies quietly. “I shot him.”
“Are you okay?” I ask, and she nods.
“Was it an accident?” I’m looking for any feasible explanation. How could this tiny girl possibly shoot someone?
“No,” she retorts, shaking her head and finding her voice.
“But how could you want to…” My words trail off. “And how were you able to?”
“I aimed high, right between his eyes.” Her words are steely, like a cold-blooded killer.
“Why, Lulu?” I search those eyes I have looked into so many times before. There has to be an answer in there.
“Because he was going to kill you,” she explains. Warmth begins to battle the cold panic coursing through my veins. She is just a child, and she is protecting the one person who has taken care of her for all of these months. Me. If only Phoenix realized love is more powerful than any revolution.
“Thank you for taking care of me, Lulu, honey,” I reach out my hand to stroke the side of her face. “And I love you too. But—”
Lulu’s head whips away from me, and she stares up at me with disdain.
“I didn’t do it because I love you.” She wrinkles her nose as she speaks, as if the sight of me repulses her. “I did it because I owed you. And now we’re even.”
With that, she marches off to stand next to Gretchen. Gunnar and Phoenix carry Buzzcut’s body deep into the woods and cover it with a pile of pine needles while I stare at Lulu. What has happened to her? Why has she turned so violently against me? Can she, as young as she is, really understand what I’ve done? My heart aches watching her, but I can’t deny my past.
“We’ll leave him in a shallow grave for now,” Phoenix decides, walking toward me. He reaches up and wipes the sweat from his brow with the back of his wrist. Every muscle in his forearm flexes with this action, and I sigh despite myself. “I’ll come back after dark and bury him properly.” Raven nods, understanding him and everything he does, completely.
Gunnar walks over to us. “I really hope you’ve made the right decision by taking off with your little family there.” He sneers at Raven and me.
“Ditto,” Phoenix quips, nodding toward Gretchen and Lulu.
Gunnar turns in their direction and then back to Phoenix. His face is red and his breath is hurried. He looks like he is about to say something but instead he turns and storms off toward the woods. He takes just two or three steps and then turns back. He walks up to Phoenix and they stand, toe to toe.
“Just remember...” Gunnar glares at Phoenix. “She’s the enemy. Be careful who you trust,” he warns, then spins on his heels and makes for the woods, quickly.
Gretchen looks at me, turns, and runs after him. Lulu follows. The three of them may be moving in the same direction, but they are in no way together.
I realize Phoenix is staring at me, and I meet his gaze. “What do we need to do to get you to the Letting?” he asks. His words surprise me. I had momentarily forgotten about the Letting tomorrow.
“Uh,” I blurt, caught off guard. “I need to go back to camp. With Raven.” I look down at her. “I need to get to my two girls whom Gretchen abandoned.
And I’ll have to come up with an excuse for Gretchen and Lulu.” Phoenix nods.
“What happens in the morning?” he asks.
“We’ll be woken before reveille and brought immediately to a waiting vehicle. Inside the truck, they’ll give us tons of fluids and protein bars. We’ll do calisthenics to get the blood pumping. The ride feels endless.”
“Any idea how long?”
“I guess five, maybe six hours?”
He nods, thinking.
“We take a pit stop somewhere along the way, about halfway through the trip. We go to a deserted building on the side of the road. The bathrooms are still in working order.”
“What happens when you arrive? Do you know where you go?”
“We drive straight up to a large white building with a vast covered entrance, and we’re greeted by people in white suits. No one talks much. They just walk us over to the Prep Station where they do a quick finger prick to check for type and toxicity. I’ll never pass that.”
Phoenix nods again.
“Then they’ll take us into the building that has sliding front doors. There will be a lot of hustle and bustle, and people rushing in every direction. Some of the people wear masks on their faces. Most of the girls are terrified when they get there. Coming from the peacefulness of camp, it seems like chaos.”
He is watching me now, hanging on my every word.
“After that,” I shrug, “I’m afraid I’m no help.”
“Why not?”
“They never let me into the building. I just go as far as drop off.”
Phoenix nods once again, and then he squats down, his gun slung casually over his shoulder. He picks up a small twig that was lying on the beach and begins to make marks in the sand. The twig is too delicate for his needs, but he is patient and gentle with it, and he is able to coax the twig to go in the direction he wants. Silently I watch him, staring at his markings, trying to decipher the map or plan he is creating. It is not until he makes the long flowing strokes I see the outline of the hair.
I step back to get the full perspective, and that’s when I realize the picture he has drawn on the sand is of me. And it is stunning. Without ever looking up at me, he has created an amazing likeness. All from memory. How could he know my face so well? Raven squats down next to him and reaches into the sand with her finger. She adds the hollows I have under my cheekbones. Then she dusts her hands off and looks over at Phoenix. The two of them smile at each other before they stand up.
Phoenix stares down at the ground, looking at the picture. “Here is the face that started a revolution,” he says, solemnly. He looks over at me then back down to his drawing. “I sincerely hope it is the face that can finish it, too.”
Chapter Ten
I hate being alone in my cabin tonight, the night before a Letting. My Letting. Tomorrow is my first Letting, and I have no one to count on. No one to trust. If Gretchen is right, and they decide they can clean my blood, and they actually Let me, who will help me recuperate? Sometimes the girls are given a few days to recoup in the Infirmary at the Letting site, other times they are shipped back to me the next day or even that night.
I have spent many days and nights hand-feeding exhausted little girls who were too tired to lift their heads from their pillows. What if that happens to me? I steel myself against the thought. If they drain me and leave me for dead, I will have to rally. There is no choice. Because even if I’ve decided my life is unimportant, I am now fighting for something much greater: the revolution and the safety of Lulu, Raven, Violet, Lilly, and any of the little girls who come along after them.
I roll over in my bed and stare at Gretchen’s empty cot. The silence in our room makes me miss her terribly. My minds reels with all of the times she and I had stayed awake well past taps, giggling, and talking about our plans once we were free to go to the New World. She never seemed to have as many desires as I did. I wanted to walk up and down streets in bustling towns, peering into shop windows, saying “hello” to complete strangers as we pass. Most of all, I wanted to be with my mother. To be held by her while she told me stories of her wonderful life in the New World and all the exciting things she’s planned for us to do together.
When we were little Gretchen would giggle along with me. She talked about the candy that grew on trees, and she talked about these small, maybe mythical, creatures people would keep in their houses as pets. Some minute fluffy versions of the wolves that patrol these woods or the wild dogs the rebels capture and train to kill. But as we grew older, my desires never varied, although Gretchen culled hers down to one single word: freedom. She wanted the freedom to live her life as she wanted. I guess, lying here now, I see how obvious it should have been. How she had left me all those years ago, but I never bothered to notice.
The thought sickens me, and I stand, fighting to keep down my dinner of liver and spinach. I peer out the window of my cabin, although there’s no reason to believe Margaret will come in here to check up on Gretchen and Lulu. She’s terrified that the illness I’ve claimed they have is contagious.
Standing here, in the thick silence of the hot summer night, I see something. I can’t quite make out what it is, but there are lights, far in the distance. I watch, transfixed, and see that the lights bounce in time with the rhythm of the road. Closer and closer, they come at an unprecedented speed, and there is no mistaking what I see are four sets of headlights, making their way directly toward me.
My heart races as I walk in circles around my cabin, wondering what to do. My breathing is hurried and forced. Have they found out what I’ve done? Are they coming for me because I’ve released Lulu? Have they discovered I’m a traitor? Did Gunnar tell them? Gretchen? Or worse…was it him?
It couldn’t be him.
I think of his tall, muscled body standing next to mine. I think of his bright blue eyes and his tousled hair. I think of how my eyes drink him in whenever he is near, and how my body is willingly engulfed by his scent. I think of how protected I feel around him. It couldn’t be Pheonix who sold me out. And that thought matters way more than it should. Somehow, while I watch the trucks gaining on me, I feel inexplicably and inappropriately relaxed.
I think, maybe I should run. But where would I go?
I know nothing but this camp. It’s all I’ve ever known. And what would that do to my girls? Just the thought of them makes my stomach ache. I need to get to the girls before these trucks get to me. But I’m too late.
I peer out the window again and I see four army green, covered vehicles parked crisscrossed in the middle of the camp grounds. Suddenly, I hear the screech of a siren and the echo of a bullhorn.
“Veronica Billings,” the voice bellows through the bullhorn. “Veronica Billings, please report to the camp office immediately.”
There is no point in prolonging the inevitable. Despite the heat, I pull on a sweater, thinking there may be a time I’ll need it. I walk to my cabin door and push it open with one hand. My other hand remains clenched in a fist, tightly by my side.
Steadily, I walk out into light that is brighter than high noon. The vehicles headlights are shining directly into the cabins. Most of the girls are awake and have wandered out to see what the commotion is.
I walk forward, my arms raised, my hands shielding my eyes from the light and the situation.
“There she is,” someone yells, pointing at me. There are people dressed in plain cotton brown pants and shirts all around me. I recognize them immediately, and judging from the way the girls are huddled together, they do as well. The brown suits can only mean one thing: Harvesters. But why would the Harvesters want me?
“I’m Veronica Billings,” I announce, stepping forward. People begin to surround me. There are words and phrases said in random order, and I find it difficult to follow them.
“At least she’s tall,” one says. “A lot to give.”
“Isn’t her blood toxic?” asks another.
“We should warn the Lettors when they administer the test,�
� adds yet another, and they go on and on with this incessant random talking. Best I can make out, they haven’t come because they’ve found out I’m a traitor to my government, they have come to Let me early.
I find myself being led toward the back of an opened vehicle. Someone stands to the side and opens a canvas flap on the back of the truck. I think someone motions for me to step up into the vehicle but I can’t be sure. Another someone uses too much force to nudge me on the shoulder, and I stumble forward.
Several of the girls gasp.
“Stop that,” commands a voice I recognize. My head snaps in his direction, and I see Phoenix dressed in the same brown uniform as the others. He looks at me briefly and then away immediately, as if he has no idea who I am. As if we have no history. As if he never stroked my cheek so very gently.
My thoughts get away from me. Is this boy I fell for not a revolutionary at all, but rather a Harvester? Does he work for the corrupt government he claims he’s fighting against? Have I delivered not one, but two little girls, directly into his care only for them to be destroyed prematurely? It can’t be. Not him. My knees buckle beneath me.
“Be careful with her,” Phoenix tells the others. “This is Veronica Billings. One of the only remaining O’s, and the personal donor for Principal Leader Farnsworth.”
Some mumbling ensues.
“And if that’s not enough…” Phoenix adds. The other Harvesters’ attention is rapt, hinging on his every word. “And if that’s not enough,” he repeats for emphasis, “this is the girl who has delivered more young girls to the Lettings than any other person in history. She is a highly decorated government employee.”
His words work their magic because suddenly everyone is much more respectful and courteous.
“That’s better.” Phoenix puts out his hand to lead me into the back of the waiting vehicle. He makes eye contact only for a moment but instead of sending a thrill through me, his look breaks my heart. Because those words he has just spoken to force the others to give me respect, are the exact same words that cause him to hate me.
I step inside. It’s hot and musty, and I’m somewhat glad we’re making the trip at night. It would be unbearable during the heat of the day.
The Letting Page 10