by Amber Garr
“Well, this is different,” my dad said as we drove past a long line of people waiting behind a tall, chain linked fence to get their supply. “I’ve never seen it so crowded.”
“You’ve only been here once, Dad,” I said.
“Okay, true. But last time we were the only ones, and Richard didn’t think it would be any different.” He stopped, waiting for the guards to open the gate, and surveying the scene in front of us.
“Something’s wrong,” my mom said, looking at the line of people. “They look angry.”
“Mom, stop being so dramatic,” I groaned. “I’d be angry too if I had to wait in this line.” It stretched at least half a mile, weaving back and forth like a line at an amusement park. But as I looked closer, I saw what my mom had noticed. Many of them were yelling, fists raised in the air and scowls plastered on their faces.
“Let’s park and see what’s happening,” my dad said as the guards let the two cars pass and then closed the gates again behind us. We pulled off to the side and opened the doors. As soon as we did, the chanting intensified and it became clear that something really was wrong.
“Okay, Mom. You were right,” I said, sidling up next to her.
“I wish I weren’t,” she whispered, eyes wide with fear at what this mob could turn into.
“What’s going on?” Vee asked as her family joined us.
“Don’t know,” I said.
My dad stepped forward, identifying himself as the leader of our group. “Maybe I should go see—”
“Hey! You!” Someone shouted at us from the side and we all turned at once. A middle-aged man with a long beard and red flannel shirt jogged in our direction. “Have you heard?”
My dad took a few steps, putting more distance between us and the angry man. “Heard what?”
“They started a draft!” The man shook his head and wiped his nose. “They have us trapped in here like animals.”
“Trapped?” Vee asked at the same time I did.
The man’s dark, beady eyes glared at us. “How old are you?”
“Sixteen,” I answered for the both of us.
“Good,” he snorted. “You’re safe. It’s eighteen and older. Those bastards don’t even care if you have a family to take care of.”
“Wait,” my dad said, hand held out in an attempt to calm the irate man without touching him. “We don’t understand.”
“Don’t you listen to the radio?” He pointed toward the building with the supplies. “They told all of us to report for our monthly rations and then locked the gates.”
“But we just drove in here,” my dad said calmly.
“Oh yeah? Well, try to see if you can leave.”
Vee grabbed my arm and whispered to me. “Is he for real?” I shrugged in response, too afraid to take my eyes off of him.
“They’re a bunch of hypocrites, all of them!”
“Who?” my dad asked, but he stepped backward toward us.
“These government bastards. Living like royalty in their little complexes and making the rest of us serve their needs. And now they’re going to force us into submission? Well, I say to hell with that.”
The man reached behind him and pulled out a revolver, and we all cowered in fear. “Dad!” I shouted as quietly as I could. “Dad, we need to get out of here!”
“I will not be one of their slaves!” The man ran forward, gun waving in the air as he charged the gates we’d just driven through. But he never made it, and instead found himself on ground, twitching from the two stun guns that were now embedded into his back.
“What’s happening?” Vee’s mom whispered.
“I don’t know, but we need to get out of here,” my dad said. “Come on, let’s go.”
We rushed the few steps back to our cars, jumping inside and starting the engines. I searched for Vee through the back window, seeing her family start to back out of their spot. We followed closely behind but none of us made it very far. A large cargo truck pulled in front of the gates, effectively blocking our escape.
“David!” my mother screamed as our Jeep hit the back of the Witterly’s car when they were forced to stop. It wasn’t a bad hit, but enough that it ruined any momentum that we had.
Suddenly, an army of soldiers surrounded us with guns drawn, covered in riot gear that made them look like robots. “Exit the vehicles,” one of them said.
“David?”
“Just do what they say, Mary. You got that, Zach?” My father waited until I nodded before opening his door.
In silence, we all stood in a tight group, waiting for what would happen next. My eyes found Vee, and a sharp jolt of fear stole my breath away. I wasn’t ready to watch them take her away. Any of us, for that matter.
“You need to come with us,” a soldier said through his face shield.
“Can you tell me what this is about?” my dad asked.
“Come with us,” he repeated.
“We’re not going anywhere until you tell us what’s going on.”
The soldier jerked his head and the rest of his minions stepped closer. My mom let of a small shriek and clutched helplessly at my father’s side. “A mandatory draft is in effect. All persons eighteen and older must submit their name.”
“And what does this draft entail?” my father continued.
“Two years of service in the factories.”
“What factories?” Sampson asked. “The bottling factories?”
“Yes, sir.”
“But there aren’t that many,” Vee’s dad said, scratching his head. “There aren’t enough to warrant—”
“There are obviously more then you know about,” the soldier cut him off. “Now, get in line so that you can submit your name.”
“But, sir. We have children—”
“Get in line,” he commanded. “Now!”
We didn’t move and he gave another silent signal to his men. They stepped forward, guns dangerously close to our faces. “They’re not going to shoot us, are they Dad?” I asked.
“Just don’t give them a reason to shoot.”
Not the response I wanted to hear.
Suddenly, a loud explosion lit up the sky and a chorus of screams filled the din. We all dropped to the ground in reaction, soldiers included. But they recovered faster than we did, and by the time I pushed back up to my feet, they were gone.
“What was that?” I asked. Several gunshots rang out from the area near the explosion.
“That was the start of a rebellion,” my dad answered. Looking over toward Vee’s family he said, “You all okay?”
They nodded and I reached out for Vee. She ran to my side, looking wild and dangerous all at the same time. “They’re fighting back. Look!” Pointing to the flames, I saw what she’d noticed—the citizens fighting against the soldiers. “We should fight too.”
“Vee, this isn’t high school anymore. This is the real deal,” I said.
“I know that,” she snapped. “But they can’t treat us like this.”
“We need supplies,” my dad interrupted. “Let’s make a run for the water truck and fill up what we can.”
“Water truck?” I asked.
He pointed to a large flatbed truck with a black plastic reservoir on the back. “There’s enough chaos right now we might be able to fill up a few bottles.”
“And then what?” my mom asked.
“Yeah, and then what do we do?” Valerie repeated. Vee wrapped her arm around her mom and squeezed tight.
“And then we get the hell out of Dodge,” Sampson said, smiling when my dad agreed with a nod.
“Well, okay then.” I threw open the trunk of the Jeep and passed out the smallest containers to the women. Vee gave me a dirty look, but I ignored it. Those were really heavy when filled. I grabbed one of the largest jugs, as did my dad and Sampson. And then I lifted the carpet and snatched two of my knives.
“Give me one,” Vee demanded.
&nbs
p; “No,” I said.
“Zach, don’t be an ass. I need to protect myself too.”
She was right, and begrudgingly, I passed her the largest one. “That’s not a toy.”
“Thanks, ass,” she said, glaring at me like I’d pay for that comment later.
“Okay, let’s go,” my dad said.
We started running around the opposite side of the fenced in area, avoiding places where the riots were happening. The truck sat about one hundred yards away and a slurry of angry citizens was the only thing sitting between us and the soldiers prepared for a fight.
Just as we got within twenty feet of the truck, another explosion knocked us all off our feet. I scrambled forward, but couldn’t stop myself from rolling down a small embankment. The container slipped from my hand, but I held a firm grip on the knife.
“Zach!” Vee’s cry shot through me like a bullet and I jumped to my feet.
“Where are you?” I called out. Where was everyone? I couldn’t see a thing with all of the dust and smoke in the air. No, not smoke, steam? I turned to my right, in the direction of the water truck, only to see a large, gaping hole in the ground and black pieces of plastic reservoir littering the land around me.
Someone had blown up the truck.
“Zach!”
I scampered back up the small hill, feet slipping with every step that I took. When I got to the top, I saw my mom helping Valerie up off the ground and Sampson sitting with my dad. All four of them looked shaken but at least they were moving on their own.
“Get off of me!” Vee screamed at someone and I snapped my head in the opposite direction. With ears ringing, I tried to pinpoint her angry voice. Then I saw her container fly through the air and watched her dart out from behind a large pile of logs.
“Vee!” I called out, and she immediately changed directions to head toward me. Her face was covered in dirt and blood, and her shirt had been torn. And then I saw him. A soldier, missing his helmet and wiping blood from his mouth, ran behind Vee, chasing her like prey.
“Zach, help me!” she called out while she struggled to get to me.
“Get back here,” the man said. “You’ve assaulted a government soldier. You will be arrested.”
“He tried to take me away,” Vee yelled, still too far away for me to touch her.
“Vivienne, stop running!” Her mother called out after her, but she clutched my mom’s shoulders and hopped on one foot, unable to stop her daughter.
In the midst of all the chaos, time suddenly crawled to a halt. I saw it all in slow motion. First, Vee running toward me with fear painted on her face like a tattoo. Then, the soldier raising his gun and pointing it at Vee’s back. My screams telling her to duck. And finally the cold knife leaving my hand as I threw it at the soldier.
And then it all stopped.
The soldier dropped to the ground, clutching at his throat where my knife had sliced into his skin. Pools of red blood stained his uniform and the dusty brown ground underneath. Vee looked up at me through her dark hair, blue eyes unreadable as she realized what I’d just done.
Yet before she could speak, I collapsed to my knees and threw up all over the place.
“Zach!” I screamed. He fell so fast I thought he’d been shot. Until I saw his shoulders heaving as he tried to regain control. On my hands and knees, I crawled to him, unable to make my damn legs carry me any further. It must have been the rush of adrenaline leaving my body, and I absolutely hated feeling so helpless.
“Stay back,” Zach groaned, putting his palm in the air to stop me. “I’m okay.” Then he looked up at me with a hint of a crooked grin. “You don’t want to smell this.”
I laughed and gagged at the same time. “You’re disgusting.” Tears filled my vision and warmth filled my heart when I watched Zach push to his feet. With eyes avoiding the dead soldier behind me, he reached forward and pulled me up next to him.
Running his hand over my face to push the hair away, he asked, “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
I let the tears fall as I wrapped myself around him. “No,” I said. “He kept saying that he was trying to take me to a safe place.”
“A safe place?” Zach’s growled.
“Not like that, Zach.” I shook my head then nestled it in closer to his chest. His heartbeat pounding inside, soothing me through its constant, steady rhythm. “He just wanted to get me away from the explosions. Said I was too young to get involved in this.”
Zach huffed and I squeezed him a little harder. I never thought how nice it would feel to know that someone cared about me this much. He might not say it, but Zach cared. Enough to kill, I thought, struggling to push the image of the fallen soldier out of my mind.
“Vivienne!” My father’s shout came out of the smoke. He nearly knocked us over when he threw his arms around me. “Oh, thank god. I thought he was going to shoot you—”
His words ended in a heartbreaking sob that tightened in my throat. I could barely stop myself from a full-fledged cry fest. My dad never showed this much emotion. That was always reserved for my mother.
Another explosion destroyed the gate we’d driven through when we arrived. People shouted in anger and a whole new group of them ran into the compound.
“What are they doing?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Zach’s dad answered, joining us to watch this new development. “They’re…they’re coming from the forest.”
We followed his gaze but then I heard feet shuffling behind me. Without letting go of Zach, I turned around and sucked in a breath. When I saw my mom and Mary hobble over to us, supporting each other like a crutch, I exhaled.
“Mom, what happened?” I asked, finally detangling myself from the comfort of Zach to rush to her side.
She waved me away when I tried to help lift her, but grabbed my hand instead. “Just twisted my ankle when that explosion knocked me down. I’m fine.”
Dust and smoke continued to surround the six of us, standing there in disbelief while the riots around us changed our future. I worried about how much longer we could hide as the dust began to settle.
“Grab the containers and let’s go,” David said.
“But where are we going to go?” Zach asked. His eyes traveled over to our cars, now covered in debris and too damaged to drive.
“Into the woods.” He jerked his head toward the intimidating forest behind us.
“What?” Mary shrieked. “We can’t survive out there!”
Her husband ignored her and looked back out over the rioting crowd. Hands on hips and stance strong, I saw the moment he made his decision. “Sampson, give me a hand?” My dad nodded and David looked at all of us. “Stay here and stay quiet. We’ll be right back.”
“Dad—” Zach protested.
“Quiet,” he shushed him. “In fact, get down on the ground over by that truck. Let the smoke cover you. We’ll just be a minute.”
The sharp sting of acrid smoke was already making me nauseous, and I didn’t particularly want to breathe it in any longer. But we complied, even though Zach bobbed back and forth on his toes. “What’s he doing?” he whispered to no one in particular.
“Be quiet,” his mom chided and he shot her a look. “If your father says he’ll be right back, he will be.”
That seemed to satisfy Zach for the time being, and I saw his shoulders sag in defeat. Wanting to keep looking forward, I asked our mothers, “Do you know where you dropped your containers.”
My mom nodded. “Just over that embankment behind us.” Turning to look, the only thing I saw was a forest covered in dead leaves, branches, and darkness. Great.
“Mine’s gone,” Mary added. “It got caught in the fire when the truck exploded.” Even better.
“Well I think I dropped mine right around the other side of that truck,” I jerked my chin to the vehicle closest to us. “So maybe we can at least grab two of them before taking off.”
“I’ll get them,�
�� Zach said.
“I’m going with you,” I replied quickly.
“No.”
“Yes. You need someone to watch your back.”
Amusement sparkled in his brown eyes and I dared him to be a smart ass right now. Surprisingly, he kept quiet and laughed silently to himself. My mom nudged me, noticing the exchange in the middle of all this chaos. I hung my head before she could see me flush.
“Here they come,” Zach said as our fathers ran in a crouch to join us. The smoky camouflage wouldn’t last much longer, but I immediately knew why they’d risked the trip.
“Guns?” I asked, staring at the two shot guns and one pistol.
“David Scott,” Zach’s mom spat. “Why did you bring those?”
“Because the world is going to shit, Mom,” Zach said.
“Zachary—”
“I know. Language.” Zach turned to his dad. “Give me one.”
“No,” he said, pulling back when Zach tried to grab a shot gun. “This is for emergencies only.”
Zach motioned to the chaos surrounding us. “Don’t you think this is an emergency? Come on. Give me one.” He reached forward again.
“No.” Zach’s dad jerked the guns out of the way and then handed one to my dad.
“What?” Zach shouted. “Are you serious?”
His dad smirked, reminding me so much of Zach it gave me a weird feeling. That’s what Zach would look like in thirty years. “I brought you something better.” He handed Zach a bundle of something wrapped up in a small towel.
Zach took it and then smiled. “Sweet.” He unrolled the towel and removed three kitchen knives from inside. “The rest of my knives.”
“Give me one,” I said, hand outstretched.
Zach grimaced. “No way. I already gave you one before and you lost it.”
I flicked my fingers, flinching when something else exploded nearby. “Zach.”
Sighing, he reluctantly pressed the smallest steak knife into my palm. “Don’t hurt yourself. Or lose it.”