Reservation 1

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Reservation 1 Page 25

by Krista Street


  Mitch clapped Charlie on the back. His eyes shone with excitement. “Actually, my friend. That’s exactly why she should go.”

  I cocked my head at Mitch’s excited expression. “Care to explain?”

  Mitch rubbed his hands together. “I was just going to do that.”

  THE DRIVE TO Mobridge was long and excruciating. My co-workers plan to get me into the reservation seemed feasible. It could work, or it could completely backfire. However, it was all I had to go on.

  The miles sped by as darkness loomed. Since it was technically summer, we were still on summer curfew hours. Come a few weeks, that would change.

  Unless they decide to do away with curfew all together. We could only hope.

  I had twenty minutes to spare when I drove into Mobridge. Hopefully, that would work to my advantage. Mitch’s idea had been for me to approach the gates as darkness fell and to ask to be admitted for the night.

  Given the MRRA secured each state’s borders and enforced curfew, they’d have two options. One, they could admit me for the night. Or two, they could call the State Patrol and have them send an officer to collect me. Given it would probably take the Patrol at least an hour or two to reach Mobridge, it wasn’t a very practical option.

  I could only hope they chose option one.

  The barbed wire fence was the first thing I noticed about the perimeter when I pulled up to the main gate. I wasn’t the only one here, though. Several cars lay scattered in the surrounding prairie. Their occupants were nowhere to be seen.

  A light shone on my vehicle when I parked. A loud voice blaring through a speaker followed. “State your name and intention for approaching Reservation 1.”

  Under my breath, I muttered to myself, “A megaphone and spotlight? Is that necessary?”

  I opened my door and stepped out. The light was so bright I shielded my eyes. “It’s Dr. Meghan Forester.”

  I fished my credentials out of my pocket and held them up. “I’m with Compound 26, and I wish to enter.”

  The speaker clicked on again, a high pitched sound followed, but then it turned off. At least a minute passed. I guessed whoever was on the other end was trying to figure out how to answer me.

  Another click sounded and a different voice bellowed, “State your intentions, Dr. Forester. You know having MRI credentials does not give you ungoverned access here.”

  “I’m aware of that.” I ducked my head. “Can you turn the light off please? It’s blinding.”

  The light clicked off. Only the setting sun illuminated the sky. Already stars were peeking through.

  “State your intentions.” The authoritative voice sounded again.

  “I would like to enter. I wish to speak with Dr. Roberts.”

  “Dr. Roberts has retired to his quarters for the night.”

  Inside, I breathed a sigh of relief. That’s what I hoped. A cool prairie breeze washed over my cheeks. I pushed my hair behind my ears. “That’s fine. I can speak with him tomorrow, but I still need to enter. With no hotels in sight, I have nowhere to stay.”

  “That is not our concern, Dr. Forester. The State Patrol can be here in two hours. You’re not the first they’ve had to collect.”

  So that explains the empty vehicles.

  I swallowed uneasily and tried a different tactic. “You do realize that I’m not a normal bystander trying to get a look at the Kazzies… Private?” I let the word hang.

  “It’s Sergeant Beckenworth. I’m in charge of the night guard.”

  “I apologize, Sergeant Beckenworth, but like I was saying, I’m employed by the Makanza Research Institute. I am not a common criminal, nor am I a thrill seeker trying to break into Reservation 1. I am a former colleague of Dr. Roberts, and I wish to speak to him. However, I can wait until tomorrow. Perhaps you can give me the respect I deserve and open these gates. I need a place to stay for the night.”

  “I…” The Sergeant seemed at loss for words.

  “You do realize if it weren’t for what I discovered that you wouldn’t have a job?” I cringed inwardly at the arrogance of that statement, but I also knew it may help. “The only reason this reservation is here is because of what I discovered. And the only reason you’ll never catch Makanza is because of what I discovered.”

  I had to force the words out. What I was saying was ridiculous. Granted I had paved the way for the vaccine, but the original theory had been born in Dr. Hutchinson’s Compounds, and it was the massive undertaking by thousands of MRI scientists that had resulted in the vaccine.

  Hopefully, Sergeant Beckenworth wouldn’t know that.

  “Well… I suppose…” He cleared his throat. “I suppose we could let you in for one night. You’ll be contained within a guest house, however.”

  I quickly smothered my grin. “That’s absolutely fine. Thank you.”

  When the gates opened, they creaked and groaned. The mechanical superiority of the Compound was absent here. These gates probably rarely opened, unlike the Compound which admitted hundreds of workers each day.

  I slid back into my vehicle and pulled forward. My car’s headlights cut through the night, illuminating the pavement ahead that snaked through the hills.

  An MRRA soldier waved to the paved parking area. “Park your car here. You’ll be escorted to a house for the night.”

  I did as he instructed before cutting the motor. “May I stay with the infected people from my Compound tonight?”

  He frowned. “No, ma’am. You’re to stay in the house we place you in.”

  My shoulders sank. “Of course.”

  As I waited for a vehicle to escort me to the town, I knocked on the mental door that linked me to Sara. She answered readily.

  Hi, Meghan. How’s everything going?

  I smiled inwardly. I’m here, Sara. I’m at the reservation, and I’m in.

  THE DRIVE INTO town seemed to take forever. I spent the entire time staring out the window, trying to catch a glimpse of my friends or other Kazzies, but the reservation was mostly empty prairie. Only nature stared back at me.

  When the first homes appeared at the edge of town, two things quickly became apparent.

  One, everything was new. Two, the reservation as it used to be no longer existed.

  “Did they destroy the original buildings?” I asked my driver.

  Even though it was dark, I had still seen large pits filled with burned debris before we’d entered the town.

  “Yes, ma’am,” the soldier replied. “Everything was bulldozed and burned years ago. The MRRA did that after the Second Wave.”

  “So the entire town is newly constructed?”

  “Yes, ma’am. A grocery store, school, small clinic, general store, entertainment facility, and houses were built this summer for the Kazzies. They have everything they need to begin a new life.”

  His tone echoed pride. He actually believes containing the Kazzies to a reservation is fair and just. He truly believes they’re doing the right thing.

  “How is the town setup?”

  “It’s two Kazzies per house, and since there’s around twelve hundred Kazzies, we had to build six hundred homes. They’re small, so it wasn’t too much work.”

  “So the Kazzies all live in this area?”

  “Yes, ma’am. The town is setup in a grid system. Ten houses per block, five streets, and twelve interconnecting streets. They’re all in one area so it’s easier to maintain their whereabouts. We also track them with devices imbedded in their wrists.”

  I bristled at that reminder. Through clenched teeth, I asked, “So where am I staying?”

  “In one of the unoccupied Kazzie houses. We built a few extra just in case.”

  “And the MRRA soldiers stationed here? Where do you all live?”

  “Our barracks are in several locations throughout the reservation, ma’am.”

  I angled my body toward his. “And how long will you be stationed here?”

  “Two years, although I can leave for four two-week periods over
that timeframe.”

  “And what about the Kazzies’ families? Where will they stay when they visit?”

  “Uh…” His gripped tightened on the steering wheel as we turned onto a street. “We don’t have accommodations for them, ma’am.”

  “So where do they stay?”

  He shrugged. “I suppose I don’t know.”

  We pulled up to a small, newly built house. It was simple on the outside. Real wood clapboard siding, a small chimney, a few windows, and a newly shingled roof.

  “This is where you’ll be staying tonight, ma’am. We’ll tell Dr. Roberts first thing in the morning that you’d like to see him.”

  Since I only had my purse and small bag that I’d packed for D.C., on the off chance I’d had to spend the night there, I didn’t have much to carry. Once the soldier let me into the house, he gave me a quick tour before telling me goodnight.

  The second he left, I raced to the front door. I had no intention of staying in this house tonight.

  Only, when I went to let myself out, the door wouldn’t budge. I tried again.

  They’ve locked it from the outside!

  I rattled the door handle, but as much as I tried, it wouldn’t give. I slapped my palms against it in anger. They call these homes, but they’re truly just fancy prison cells.

  Pacing the small living room, I tapped into my connection with Sara. I’m in a house, but I’m locked inside. I can’t get out.

  She sighed sadly. I know. We’re all still locked in our homes. That hasn’t changed. They only let us leave for our first initiation meeting this afternoon, but they picked us up and escorted us to it.

  So when will they stop locking the doors? When will you be allowed to come and go as you please?

  I’m not sure. They haven’t told us any details like that yet, but it sounds like locking us in at night will be the norm. I’m not sure about the daytime.

  Which house are you in?

  Sophie and I live in house eight on the third street, block ten.

  I groaned. They were so close yet so far away.

  Gripping my head in frustration, I spun away from the door. It was only when I stopped, wanting to punch a pillow on the couch, that I really looked at my surroundings for the first time.

  The living room was small and sparsely furnished. There was a couch, coffee table, and chair. A cold fireplace took up a third of one wall. Next to the living area was a kitchen. It held the basics: a stove, sink, oven, and a kitchen table with two chairs. I opened one of the cupboards. Canned foods and shelf stable items stared back at me.

  So you do all of your own cooking?

  I felt Sara nod. Yes, we’re supposed to, but Sophie and I don’t know how to cook, so the soldiers brought us a cookbook and told us to figure it out.

  I grimaced. Since I was the world’s worst cook, I’d be no help to them. Is it going okay?

  We haven’t starved yet if that’s what you mean.

  I tried to laugh at her joke but couldn’t. Things were worse here than I thought.

  And everyone else? How are they fairing?

  Victor and Garrett share a home. Dorothy’s rooming with another woman she just met. And Sage is supposed to share a house with Davin.

  My heart stopped as I waited for the news. I’d been too scared to ask her earlier. As of this morning, she still didn’t know how he was doing. Do you know anything yet?

  He’s alive. I know that much. About two hours ago, I felt him try to connect with me, but…

  My heart thumped painfully. But what?

  We got cut off again. I think they keep giving him something to keep him subdued. It makes his brain too fuzzy, so we can’t talk.

  I stopped rifling through the kitchen cupboards and sank against the counter. Do you really think they keep drugging him?

  It’s the only thing that explains why I can’t speak with him.

  Tears moistened my eyes. Now, more than ever, I knew I needed to see Dr. Roberts. I couldn’t allow him to keep abusing Davin. I had no idea how I’d stop it, but I knew I had to try.

  25 – AGREEMENT

  I barely slept that night. It didn’t help that guards regularly patrolled the streets, shining bright spotlights up and down the street as they went. They’d already passed twice. Each time, the bright light shone through my curtains.

  The new bed in the small bedroom was comfortable enough, but my mind wouldn’t allow me to rest. All night long, dreams plagued me of what they were doing to Davin.

  To keep him continually subdued meant he was receiving sedatives around the clock. Images of deranged psychiatric hospitals, in which patients sat in wheelchairs, drool escaping a corner of their mouths while glassy eyes gazed off into the distance, unseeing, kept bombarding my mind.

  I knew it was what they were doing to Davin. It was the only way to keep him from lashing out. It was what Dr. Roberts had done to him for years. Only now, nobody was watching. Giving Dr. Roberts absolute control in the reservation meant he could do as he pleased.

  Fears of him killing Davin or creating an “accident” in which Davin fell victim to some horrendous tragedy also plagued me. Who was to say Dr. Roberts wouldn’t grow tired of having to control Davin and would decide that an untimely death was easier to deal with.

  For all I knew, nobody would question Davin’s disappearance. If Sharon wasn’t allowed into the reservation, nobody would know that he was gone. I could only hope whoever the president appointed to monitor activities here would do their job.

  If she appoints anyone at all.

  She seemed so busy even though I knew she meant to control what happened here. I still wasn’t convinced she would.

  When a knock on the small home’s front door came after sunrise, I was already awake and dressed. I’d been too nervous to eat and only had a cup of coffee for breakfast. The caffeine swam through my system. I couldn’t sit still.

  “Dr. Forester? I’m Private Foden.” The soldier that opened my door looked like all the rest. Military garb, a young face, and shoulders that stood straight and proud. He pushed the door open wider. “Please, come with me.”

  I grabbed my belongings and followed him out the door. The rising sun and surrounding prairie grass and flowers did little to distract me. “Where’s Dr. Roberts?”

  “He’s waiting for you at the main office.”

  “And what about the infected people from Compound 26? Where are they?”

  “In their homes, ma’am. Probably still sleeping.” He smiled after he said it and such innocence flashed in his eyes that I knew he truly believed nothing nefarious had been done to them.

  “And Davin Kinder? Where’s he?”

  He opened my car door. “Davin who?”

  “Davin Kinder. He’s a Kazzie from my Compound. How is he doing?”

  He cocked his head. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m afraid I don’t know. I’m not familiar with that name.”

  My throat threatened to close and choke the life out of me. I told myself to calm down and keep breathing. Sara had felt Davin try to connect yesterday. That means he’s still alive. He’s not dead. He’s still alive.

  THE DRIVE TO the main office felt like a long, lumbering hike up a mountain. Even though Private Foden drove at highway speeds, it still felt too slow. When we finally pulled up to the military camp, we stopped in front of barracks that looked plain and big. A dozen buildings with long domed roofs filled the land here.

  Once inside, I kept my eyes open for my former boss. I didn’t see him anywhere.

  “This way, ma’am.” The guard waved down a hallway and led me forward.

  He ushered me into a simple room. Bright fluorescent lights glowed overhead. The room was simple. No windows. A table and two chairs.

  It felt like an interrogation room.

  Since I heard the door lock behind Private Foden after he left, I didn’t bother trying it. It didn’t matter since not a minute passed before a door in the corner opened and Dr. Roberts marched in. He looked as he
always did. Military apparel, a short haircut, gray eyes that seemed colder than the frozen arctic.

  Gripping a chair back tightly, I tried to hide my fear. I knew that I had to be very careful with what I revealed. If I gave any indication to having insider information about the reservation, Dr. Roberts would grow suspicious. He was a smart man. He wouldn’t be fooled. I needed to keep the information Sara gave me a secret.

  “Dr. Forester.” His tone was as glacial as his eyes. “I wasn’t surprised when I awoke this morning to the message that you’d returned to the reservation. I can’t say that I’m happy about it.”

  I met his stare despite fear quaking inside me. “I’d like to know how the Kazzies from Compound 26 are doing.”

  “I’m sure you would.” He crossed his arms, a smug look on his face.

  “Where’s Davin?”

  “He’s contained.”

  I gripped the chair tighter. “Contained where?”

  Dr. Roberts cocked an eyebrow. “Is this why you came here? Twenty questions?”

  “I came here to insure that he’s safe.”

  Amusement entered his eyes. “He’s just fine.”

  I made myself breathe deeper and used the chair to steady me. Since Dr. Roberts seemed hell-bent on not revealing anything, I tried a different tactic. “The president is aware of what’s going on here.”

  “I’ve heard.” His gaze turned hard.

  He has? Knowing if I dwelled on that, I’d lose my train of thought, so I said, “If she hears of how you’re treating Davin, you’ll be removed from your position.”

  He smirked. “Why do I find that hard to believe? The president knew certain measures would need to be taken. She approved a number of the practices here. I’m calling your bluff, Dr. Forester. You don’t fool me.”

  I swallowed tightly as an angry expression grew on my former boss’ face.

  “And just so you know,” he said coldly, “I’ve heard you’ve been busy. Just yesterday you were in Washington D.C. From what I hear, you were once again trying to sabotage my career. This time you were asking the president herself that I be removed from my position.” Fury emanated from him.

  For a moment, I just stared. If he knew about my meeting with the president then he had insider contacts in the nation’s capital. It seemed that Dr. Roberts’ reach stretched wide and far.

 

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