One of the men, who looked to be about forty, shouted at Glenn, “Who the hell is this? Get her out of here!” Glenn charged toward me and pushed me out of the room. Then he slammed the door, scowling at me through the window. My heart shattered into millions of tiny pieces raining down like confetti. I’d lost Lex, Drake, both my parents, and now Glenn. Twice. All I had left was Evie.
“Evie?” I didn’t see her. I left her right by the door, but she had disappeared. I started to freak out. The crowd was too thick and she was too small. I tried to go back, but the crowd continued to push me forward. My only hope was to catch up with her in the conference room we were all being ushered to, that is, if she didn’t get trampled on the way.
The massive hall was already three quarters full, and more people kept squeezing in. There didn’t appear to be any furniture. Just standing room and a large projection screen wall in front. I stood on my toes and tried to peer over the shoulders of those in front of me, “Evie!” I kept shouting, but the noise from the crowd drowned my voice. She’d never hear me anyway.
A short distance ahead of me a man with shaggy auburn hair turned around and waved. It was Marcus. With so many people in my way I could not reach him, so he maneuvered through the crowd in my direction. As he closed in I saw he was holding something in his hand.
“Did you lose something?” he asked as he pulled Evie between two people. Tears of relief streamed from my eyes. I picked her up and squeezed her close to me as a mother would, smelling her sweetly scented hair.
“I was so scared. I thought I’d lost you,” I said to Evie, who also looked relieved to see me. “I don’t know how to thank you, Marcus.” He shook his head and waved his hand. “No thanks necessary.” He glanced up as the back doors to the room shut. The lights dimmed and everyone turned toward the screen where a video began to play.
A well-dressed man with gleaming silver hair and a neatly manicured beard sat in a fine leather chair and spoke to the camera, to us. “Welcome to Crimson Survival Refuge, formerly Crimson State Penitentiary. My name is Edgar Wisecraft.”
The name sounded hauntingly familiar and it didn’t take me long to realize why. Edgar Wisecraft was the CEO of Wise Petroleum Corporation, the world’s largest international oil company. He’s one of the richest and most powerful billionaires in the world. His voice continued, “You have been brought here because you are special. You survived a biochemical attack from our southern neighbors in Deimos, who seek to destroy our nation, our way of life. It is imperative that we keep you safe and alive, until a peace treaty has been reached. You all are our only hope for the survival and prosperity of our nation.
For the time being this will be your new home. Unlike the previous residents, you will be welcome to roam around as you wish. You are not prisoners. You are survivors. When you were processed in, you were assigned a room number, a room that you will be sharing with one other person. If you have family here, you may be separated. It is for the comfort and safety of everyone that rooms be shared only between people of the same gender. Children will be permitted to stay with their mothers, space permitting. Otherwise, they will be escorted to their own wing, with plenty of adult supervision.
The Enforcers you see in blue are here for your protection. Respect them. You will be periodically pulled for blood tests and medical checkups. This is for your own health and safety. I know all of you have questions. Rest assured they will be answered soon enough. Once again, welcome to Crimson.”
The screen went black. Tears were still streaming down my face as I kept picturing that expression on Glenn’s face and his reaction to seeing me. After that, and watching the video, the possibility of Marcus’s theory was quickly becoming more and more plausible.
Marcus startled me as he placed his arm around my shoulders. “Are you okay?” he asked.
Of course I wasn’t okay. I’d lost nearly everyone I love. I was entrapped in a former prison and every shred of the life I knew was gone. But I had to hold it together for Evie’s sake. I couldn’t let her know I was falling to pieces.
“I’m fine,” I said as I wiped away the tears and gave Marcus an unconvincing smile. “I’m just a little shaken about losing Evie. I’ll be okay.”
I don’t remember how we got out of the overly crowded room. The next thing I remember was having the top of my hand scanned. They must have stamped it when I was being processed with some sort of ink only visible in UV light.
The next part of my memory is difficult to relive. I remember the Enforcers taking Evie from me and then I was escorted into a small room, where they strapped me to a table, just like the one in the medical facility, with my head in a vise. Had I known what was going to happen next I probably would have struggled. A high-pitched scream echoed from the room next to mine. I’d recognize Evie’s voice anywhere. I twisted and writhed, trying to get out, but it was too late. The straps were locked in place.
“Evie!” I screamed out, hoping that my voice would bring her comfort.
Through the walls came a muffled, “Auntie Pollen! It hurts!” What was left of my broken heart dissolved. The helplessness consumed me as I surrendered to the table I was strapped to.
A doctor entered the room. At least he looked like a doctor, wearing a white lab coat. He said nothing to me when he sat in a squeaky stool to my left. I wondered whether or not I should say something to him, perhaps complain about the tightness of the straps. That’s when I heard the buzzing and felt the needle pierce the flesh of my temple.
The urge to scream was heavy, for the pain was excruciating, but I didn’t want Evie to hear me. So I suppressed it. I bit down on my tongue and dug my fingernails into my palms. The pain in my hands and tongue took the edge off the pain of the tattoo. By the time it was over my emotions maxxed out and I felt numb.
It was a while before I saw Evie again. I was taken to a jail cell on the second floor of the block. The doors remained open and we were free to roam the building, but it was still a jail cell nonetheless. They actually stopped using the above ground cellblocks years ago. They figured it was too costly and time consuming to transport the prisoners below ground every summer, so they just kept them there year round. For all I know there may still be surviving prisoners down there.
It was a small room, about the size of my bedroom. A pair of bunk beds sat in the right hand corner and a sink and toilet flanked the left wall. Fortunately, the people running this joint had the decency to erect a screen around that area. The idea of using the toilet out in the open made my stomach turn. There was also a small desk and chair at the foot of the bunk bed.
My roommate was a woman named Lynx. She was a quiet, soft-spoken woman, about twelve years older than me. And very intelligent. She used to be a research librarian at East Gibson University. She read a lot and seemed to retain all of the information she learned. Lynx spoke quite often about other places in the world, their histories and cultures. Once she got started on a subject, it was hard to shut her up.
I did a lot of mundane things around the refuge. Playing board games with Evie. Having lunch with Marcus. Girl talk with Lynx and another woman I met named Respa, who is only a few years older than me. Marcus and I continued to grow closer. He was very fond of Evie and always went out of his way to make her smile.
Every night Lynx, Respa, and I would get together in our cell and play cards, which I snuck out from the recreation area. We’re supposed to leave those things there, but I got so bored at night sitting in the cell with nothing to do. At first I felt a little guilty about stealing them, but it went unnoticed, so I just enjoyed my time with my girlfriends.
One night in particular, Respa was late to our nightly game. Lynx and I were sitting on the bottom bunk facing each other, holding our cards, making idle small talk. When she arrived, her shoulder-length, onyx hair was disheveled, olive skin flushed with a shade of pink so bold it looked like makeup, and she carried an impish grin on her face.
“Where’ve you been?” I asked. “We started with
out you.”
She looked straight into my eyes. Respa was not the shy, demure type. She tells it like it is and doesn’t seem to care what anybody thinks of her. “I was with Quorian. Apparently, he’s had eyes for me since I moved in,” she said nonchalantly, in her low, raspy voice.
Lynx smiled, “So tell us about this Quorian. Who is he?”
Respa grabbed the desk chair with one hand, dragged it to the bed and straddled it, leaning her crossed arms on the back of the chair. “Oh, what to say about Quorian,” Respa looks up dreamily. “He’s tall. Dark. Incredibly handsome. He’s an Enforcer. Level 2. And he’s definitely got some stamina.”
Lynx snorted as she tries to suppress her laughter. I would have done the same if I hadn’t been so worried. “An Enforcer? Are you sure it’s a good idea to get involved with them?” I asked.
Respa rolled her eyes, “They’re survivors just like us, Pollen. They’re no different.”
“They’re bullies. They’re not tagged. They are in charge here. They are worlds apart from us Respa. When Glenn….” Respa stood abruptly, kicking the chair out from under her, shocking me into silence.
“Enough about Glenn! I’m sick to death of hearing about him. Get over it already!” Some women on the other side of the cellblock stopped what they were doing to look at us. Respa paced the cell, while Lynx tried to calm her down. Respa took a few deep breaths, gazing down at the floor, hands cupping her forehead, before turning back to me, more composed. “I’m sorry, Pollen. It’s just that Quorian is different. He’s not this cold, overbearing tyrant like some of the other ones. He has a heart. He’s…sweet.”
I stood and took her hands in mine. “I’m just worried about you Respa. I didn’t mean to compare him to Glenn. I just haven’t found a reason trust any of them yet.”
“I understand, but I’m a big girl. I can’t take care of myself,” said Respa arrogantly.
“You sure can,” said Lynx, picking up the chair and placing it back by the desk.
I gave Respa’s hands a slight squeeze, “Just be careful, okay?”
“Of course,” she said, planting a kiss on my cheek. “But it’s time we get your mind off that jerk. When are you going to invite Marcus for a sleepover? Lynx can chill with me for the night.”
“It’s not like that,” I said. “We’re just friends. Nothing more.”
Respa snickered, “Oh please. Are you blind or just plain stupid? That man would follow you to the sun and back if you asked him to. And I’ve seen the way you look at him. There’s no way you feel nothing.”
Lynx joined in, “She’s right, you know. He is crazy about you. You really should try to move on. If I were you, I’d definitely give Marcus a shot.”
I knew they were right, but I still couldn’t admit it to myself. The next day Evie and I were playing out in the yard together as we always did. I spent most of my time at Crimson with Evie, although I did get plenty of time to myself. After all, she had made some friends of her own and the chaperones in the children’s wing were very kind and nurturing. I’d seen the way they care for the children and I trusted them with Evie. But I did prefer to be with her as much as possible.
The yard was a large outdoor expanse where prisoners would go to get some fresh air and exercise. The grass was brown and dry and worn away in most spots, leaving dust and rocks that the children loved to kick up. The size of two football fields, the yard was surrounded by a tall electric fence on three sides. There’s a smaller chain link fence a few feet inside the outer one to provide a safe cushion against being electrocuted. Since we were not considered prisoners, we could come and go as we please, but I had Evie on a schedule so we would always go out after breakfast in the morning, before it got too warm, since there were no trees nearby to provide shade.
Evie and I played catch with a blue bouncy ball. I would bounce it on the ground to her so she could easily catch it. Then she would throw it back to me—or in my general direction anyway. She is only three after all. Every time I bounced the ball, a small puff of dust would rise up from the ground, reminding me of a desert. We must be having a drought, I thought. I only went out a few hours a day, but never noticed any evidence of rainfall.
Evie caught the ball I launched to her and stopped, holding the ball and looking down at it, studying it. As she turned it to one side then another, I began to realize she was not looking at the ball at all, but her clothes.
“Auntie Pollen, what does peckooliaw mean?” asked Evie, cocking her head to the side like a pigeon.
“Peculiar? It means odd or very different,” I said. “Why?”
Evie bounced the ball back to me. “The doctor said that my jeans are peckooliaw. There’s nuffing wrong wiff my jeans, is there?” she asked. I caught the ball and paused briefly before I dropped it and squatted down with Evie.
“No, honey. There’s nothing wrong with your jeans. I think the doctor was talking about a different kind of genes. There are tiny things inside us called genes and they are what make everybody different. Some people have genes that make them tall and some people have genes that make them short. Some have genes for blond hair and some, like us, have genes for brown hair,” I told her.
“Oh,” Evie said, looking off in the distance, distracted. Some of the children from Evie’s wing had come out with a chaperone and were playing tag.
“Auntie Pollen, can I go play with the other kids?” asked Evie.
“Of course,” I said. “I’ll call you when it’s time to go inside.” Evie smiled and ran off to join the kids. I sat down on a nearby aluminum bench and watched. They’d play all day long if they could. I remembered when Drake and I were like that. Sure there was a few years’ age difference, but that didn’t matter. All the neighborhood kids got together and played every night until it was too dark to see. That memory saddened me. All of my old playmates were dead and gone now.
“Now why are you sitting here all alone?” Marcus snapped me out of my trance. He was accompanied by Lynx and Clover, who were holding hands. I never really understood what she saw in him. He definitely wouldn’t make my hot list with that beer belly. But Lynx isn’t nearly as shallow as I am. I guess she saw something in him I didn’t.
“I was just hanging out with Evie. She’s off playing with her friends,” I said, cupping my hand over my brow to shade my eyes from the sun.
Lynx sat down on the bench next to me. “Clover and I are going to catch a movie tonight in the viewing room. We thought maybe you and Marcus might want to join us.” She smiled and winked an eye at me.
I looked up at Marcus who looked as though he’s expecting an answer. He said, “I’m up for it if you are.” I guess you could say that was to be our first date.
Chapter 16
I lurch at the sound of heavy metal scraping and those hauntingly familiar telltale clicks. My eyes fly open and on the floor, just inside the door, is a cup of water and a paper plate with white rice, greens, and some kind of meat. The room looks much brighter to my eyes now, having adjusted to the darkness. I can’t tell if my meditation drew me in so deeply as to withdraw from the tangible world, or if I had just fallen asleep against the cold wall.
Either way, I am starving. I crawl over to the plate and scoop up the rice and greens with my cupped fingers, only to see the spoon later, after I’ve eaten. I’m so hungry I break down and eat the dead animal flesh. It disgusts me, the way the stringiness of the dry meat feels in my mouth, but it’s nourishing.
I lean back against the wall, my hands clutching my full belly. Then I drift off again, into the realm of my subconscious.
* * *
One evening Marcus and I were in the laundry room washing some clothes. The Enforcers, or whoever is in charge here, allowed us to keep our own clothes and there was a huge room we called the clothing closet that provided free clothes to anyone who needed them. I guess that’s one thing that set us apart from ordinary criminals. Had they forced us to wear matching jumpsuits they’d have a hard time convincing anybody we
weren’t prisoners.
I liked laundering my clothes in the evening. The laundry room was quiet and empty, and since I don’t particularly like being around people, it worked out great for me. Only Marcus was there, which was fine, because we’d managed to become really close friends in the few weeks we’d been at Crimson. Marcus always did his laundry late at night because he doesn’t like to wear clothes from the closet, so he would strip down and wrap a towel around his waist while he washed his own clothes.
“I can’t believe you still have that shirt,” I said, eying a holey tee shirt as he put it in the dryer. “Why don’t you just throw it out?”
“I love this shirt,” said Marcus. “It’s comfortable.” I rolled my eyes and turned back to my washer as the buzzer sounded, announcing the load had finished. “You know, there are a lot of clothes in the closet and they are all free to take,” I said.
“Yeah, dead people’s clothes,” he said. “I’ll wear my shirt ‘til it’s nothing but thread before I wear some dead guy’s clothes.”
“You just wait,” I said, loading my damp clothes into the dryer. “One night I’ll sneak into your room and snatch that shirt right off your back and burn it!”
“Then I guess you’ll just have to get used to this,” said Marcus, flexing his sculptured pectoralis major muscles. I hoped the flush on my cheeks was not noticeable in the low light.
“Stop it,” I laughed as I threw a sticky, wet shirt at him.
“Oh, you want to play it that way?” he smirked, throwing back the shirt, which I caught and promptly threw into the dryer. He reached up on a shelf above the machines to grab a spray bottle full of water and started spraying me. I erupted with laughter, and ran around the room trying to take cover. I even tried to block the squirts with my hands but it was no use. I was soaked.
“I think this is the most fun I’ve had in months,” I say gleefully.
“Me too,” Marcus drops the bottle on top of the dryer and closes the gap between us, gazing into my eyes. I peered around the room nervously, trying not to get my eyes caught in his, because then it would be impossible for me to look away. Something stirred inside me and I just knew he would kiss me. And as much as I wanted him to, I was scared out of my mind. I’d been with Glenn for so long, I didn’t know how to be with anyone else. I wasn’t sure I was ready to start over. But there wasn’t time to analyze my relationship status. I glanced up at his eyes and was instantly imprisoned by his gaze. Marcus leaned in toward me with firm desire. His tempting lips drew nearer and I gulped and licked my lips in anticipation.
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