The Reaping

by Annie Oldham

  Dave shoves a box out of the way with the toe of his boot. “A bunch of slobs, aren’t they?”

  Jack puts his hand on the back of his neck. “You would think the government would take a little better care of itself.”

  “Could just be a junk room. Everybody needs a place to dump their old stuff.”

  I signal Jack over and take his hand. Why not reclamation?

  He glances from pile to pile and his expression is puzzled. “I don’t know. The whole barge seems kind of dingy and run-down.”

  Dave shrugs. “Could just be for show. It looks pathetic, so why would anyone think twice about it?”

  My brain is processing the clues—the need for a loyalty serum, the barge that is the capital of the tyrannical government but looks like it could fall to pieces if a wave hit it just right, the deprivation forced on the citizens.

  I look into Jack’s eyes just as he figures it out too.

  “They need the loyalty serum because they’re about ready to fall.”

  I nod. Can’t sustain themselves.

  “Right. So they need the people for their slave labor.”

  “So who’s in charge of this upside-down regime?” Dave asks, stepping over a crate on his way to the door at the other side of the room.

  “A president. That’s all we’ve heard.”

  I nod. There are agents and soldiers and people like Dr. Benedict, but the only thing I’ve heard about this president has been the few whispers and rumors—and no one seems to like her.

  “Doesn’t matter now,” Dave says as he peers through the small window on the door. The light on the other side flickers.

  “Is anyone out there?” Jack says.

  Dave cranes his head to peer down the hall. “Can’t see anyone.”

  “The lights keep shutting off. Do you think that’s normal?”

  Dave laughs. “It is if they can’t pay the power bill.”

  But I don’t feel like laughing. I feel sick. The mildewy smell and the dust and the humidity are all pressing down on me, and I want to get this over with.

  Dave checks the window one more time then spins the wheel and opens the door. We stand on either side, but there are no footsteps and no shouts. We all peek through.

  Metal corridors streaked with rust stretch out before us, the smell of seawater and old food is even stronger, and the lights burn for another moment then flick off again. The sunlight from the outside door sends a long sliver down the hall, and we follow it to a corridor. When the lights flick on again, I have stars in my eyes.

  “Maybe they have most of the power going to the parts of the barge they use most,” Jack says, peering through the small windows as he passes each door. “There’s no one in any of these rooms. They all look like they’re used for storage.”

  Maybe further up? I write. I point upward for Dave’s sake.

  “Could be. That’s where all the soldiers were.”

  “Where are the stairs?” Jack asks.

  “Got to be around here somewhere.” Dave opens a door. “Keep looking.”

  We check every door and finally find one marked Stairs. Jack and Dave have to both put their full weight against it to get it to open. It opens with a snarling creak, and I freeze, expecting to have soldiers flying out from every nook and cranny. But once again, they never come.

  “How far up?” Jack asks as we enter the stairwell. White stairs and white railings spiral around above us as far as I can see.

  The main server is probably heavily guarded.

  Dave nods. “We go wherever the soldiers are thickest.”

  Jack regards him. “That would be convenient for you with this death mission you’re on. But if Terra and I just go storming through, we’ll both be killed and then where will we be? That drive from her father won’t be much good then, will it?”

  Dave shrugs. “I never said I was in it for the serum.”

  Jack shakes his head. “What happened to you? You used to care about so much more than just yourself.”

  Dave’s eyes blaze at him. “Don’t ever ask me that again.” He thunders up the stairs.

  “This was a mistake,” Jack murmurs as he follows after. I feel it in my gut, too. Dave is a cannonball, and in just a matter of time, he’s going to come crashing down.

  We race after him, and I take two steps at a time, but it’s barely enough. He skims above the stairs, his footsteps echoing on the metal steps and the gun swinging back and forth in front of him. I don’t even have time to blink before we’re up four levels, the door onto the landing opens, and two soldiers step through.

  Dave charges at them, crunching the butt of the gun into one of their faces and roaring savagely at the other. He doesn’t even get his gun raised before Dave tackles him and pummels him in the face. After five blows, he stops moving. We reach the landing and Jack grabs Dave’s shirt to pull him off the soldier. Dave rips away.

  “Don’t touch me!” he hisses. Then he’s gone through the open door.

  Do we follow?

  “I don’t know if we have a choice.” Jack cranes his neck and peers down the corridor. “This might be the right place.”

  Jack takes a gun from one of the soldiers and hefts it to his shoulder, and he’s just about to lead us from the stairwell when he pauses and turns back.

  “Wait.” He eyes the soldiers. “That one looks small enough for you to manage. Let’s put on their gear.”

  We strip their uniforms and masks off. The smaller one is still three sizes too big, but if I roll the sleeves and stuff the extra into my boots, it might pass if no one looks too closely. But who am I kidding? No one’s going to believe that I’m a soldier. I’m too small.

  I’m pulling the mask over my head when the pop pop pop of shots fired echoes down the corridor. I grab Jack’s arm. Not Dave, I tell myself. Please not Dave. We race down the hall. I gasp when we come to the first intersection.

  Four soldiers lie dead on the floor. The mask of one of them is cracked down the center, and the other three are riddled with bullet holes. I look over. All I see is the mask of a soldier staring back at me, and even though I know Jack is in there, it gives me chills.

  “Let’s go.” His voice is grim.

  We follow the path of carnage down the hall and to a short flight of stairs. At the top a sign on the wall points to the Kitchen and Dining Hall to the left and the Command Center to the right.

  Command Center?

  “Looks promising. Even if the main server isn’t there, it should be close.”

  Down the right hallway, another soldier lies face down. Dave came this way.

  “He doesn’t care about the serum, but he’s certainly clearing a path for us.” Jack shakes his head.

  We follow the corridor and are about to turn down another path when there’s a scream that’s suddenly cut off. Dave. I race ahead.

  “Terra! Come back!”

  I ignore Jack and try to run faster, but the extra weight of the soldier’s uniform makes my legs sluggish. I’m about to race around a corner, when the stamp of boots cuts me off. Two soldiers trot around the corner. I stop and do my best to stand at attention and look taller. Jack skids to a halt beside me.

  “We just found a nomad on board.”

  I nod. I hope they don’t expect me to say anything.

  “His body is outside the server room.” I try not to cry. If he’s just a body, he’s dead. “We’re going to report to command. Watch this area and make sure there are no others.”

  “Yes, sir.” Jack says as he turns on his heel and turns the corner. I follow him.

  Dave slumps against the wall, the gun on the other side of the corridor, and his hands limp on his lap. I race to him. His chest rises and falls. He’s still alive, but judging by the pool of blood spreading out to his right, he won’t be for much longer.

  I fall to his side, and he cringes away from me. His face is ashen and he can barely open his eyes. I rip off the mask, and when he sees me, his shoulders slump again.
/>   “You know, I don’t feel any better,” he gasps out. I put a hand over his mouth.

  Just then a yellow light above our heads starts flashing and an alarm sounds.

  “There’s going to be a search now,” Jack says. “If they thought one nomad was on board, they’re going to look for others. We don’t have much time.”

  “I found the server room for you,” Dave whispers, as the hints of a smile appear. “I do feel better about that.” He reaches for my face, and his fingers barely skim my cheek.

  I close my eyes. I remember the first time he touched me. It seems like ages ago. Now I feel so sad for him that my heart just might break. Then his fingers fall away from my skin, I open my eyes, and his eyes are closed and his chest is still. My head falls.

  Then there’s the click of a gun ready to fire.

  “Don’t move.”

  I look up, and a soldier stands at the end of the corridor, and he and Jack stand square, their guns trained at each other. Just to my right is the door to the server room, and it’s been wedged open. I smile through the tears that I can’t let fall yet. Dave did help us, after all. Jack half-steps back and catches my eye. I nod without taking my eyes off the soldier.

  “Don’t move!” he yells, and then we dive through the open door.

  Jack yanks away the gun that propped open the door and it creaks closed behind us. I whip my head around. The room is full of blinking machines, computers, and monitors. Which one do I use?

  Jack pulls his mask off and stalks down the aisles until he finds a computer at the end. “Try this one.”

  I’m at his side in a flash and dig under the soldier’s uniform to find the drive in my pocket. I insert the drive into the port and look at the display. The words Upload File? appear on the screen. I press Yes. Impossibly slow, a progress bar begins filling from left to right. I tap the computer with the side of my thumb, slowly at first, then faster and faster. This is taking too long. Jack puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes gently. I give him an apologetic smile when there’s a crash against the door and a muffled shout.

  I whirl around and see a face pressed up against the glass. The soldier stands there, his mask hiding the eyes I’m sure that grow wide at the sight of us. Then he disappears. Another crash against the door sounds.

  “I don’t know how long it will hold,” Jack whispers.

  Long enough. The upload is halfway done.

  Then I hear the rat-tat-tat of the soldier’s gun, and my hands fly to my face as bullets pepper the door handle. The sound of shots ring through the facility and pound into my brain, leaving my ears humming. Jack and I drop to the floor. The door swings open, creaking on its rusty hinges, and the soldier creeps in, his rifle to his shoulder, his sight down the barrel as he peers around the room. Jack and I huddle closer to the floor. His breath stops as we watch below the desks and see the soldier’s feet step closer.

  Jack crawls two feet from me, cringing as his knees scuff, scuff against the floor. The soldier whips around. Jack hides beneath a desk and waves me to another one. I curl myself tight as a moth in a cocoon. The soldier’s boots scrape on the metal floor, and he steps down the aisle of desks we had just been crouched in. My lungs ache from holding my breath.

  The soldier steps next to me. I can see his shadow. He’s turning side-to-side, surveying the room along the barrel of his gun, ready to fire. He walks right by me, and I’m sure my heart is hammering so loudly that he could hear it if he knew what to listen for. He walks right by the computer and doesn’t even look at the progress bar that shows three-quarters done.

  Then the computer lets out a slow, steady pulse. I look up. Thirty more seconds until upload complete.

  A lot can happen in thirty seconds.

  It takes one second for the soldier to whirl back toward the computer and curse. Then another second for him to grab his walkie-talkie.

  “Don’t know what’s going on in here, sir. They’re doing something to the computer.”

  “Can you tell what?”

  “They’re uploading something, sir. Not sure what.”

  “Are they logged in to the server?”

  “No idea, sir.”

  “Well get over to the computer and figure it out.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The walkie-talkie hisses as he thumps past me, and he slings his rifle over his shoulder and bends down over the computer. His hands hover uselessly over the keyboard and he taps a random key.

  Nothing happens.

  I finally let my breath go, and it whooshes out of me. I close my eyes and clap a hand over my mouth.

  Then the soldier sees the drive and lowers his hand to grab it.

  Jack is past me in a blur. Despite all our months of running the woods together, I had no idea he could move so fast.

  He grapples the soldier around the waist, wrenching him away from the computer console. The soldier grabs for his gun, but it swings out of his reach. His elbow finds Jack’s ribs, and Jack whistles a sharp breath and clenches his teeth, and I’m out from under the desk too, scrabbling along the ground in my too-big uniform until I can grab the soldier’s feet and the three of us fall to the floor with a clang. My elbows hit and the soldier’s heavy boots come down hard on my right leg, and I feel the tears spring to my eyes, but there’s no time to think about all that now. I’m grabbing at his mask, his sleeves, the strap of his gun—anything I can get my hands on to keep him away from the computer and the drive.

  Ten more seconds until upload complete.

  The soldier is big and powerful. He rips himself free from both of us and lurches toward the computer. I dig into his left boot and throw my body to the side, twisting his ankle until he screams. He shakes his leg, trying to get rid of me, but I cling to him. He takes another tripping step toward the console. Jack grabs his arm and pulls him back. The soldier takes another step. He’s almost to the computer. I seize his leg in both hands, finding the spot where there is no armor on the back of his knee. I sink my teeth into his pants, biting until I feel the flesh beneath the fabric.

  The soldier yells. Jack shouts something back at me, but the blood pulses in my ears so loudly that I can’t understand either one of them. I don’t understand that Jack is saying the word “Knife!” until I see the sharp metal point flashing in the soldier’s hand. The world shudders to a halt around me as the blade slices into my shirt and then my skin. I gasp.

  “Terra!”

  I understand perfectly what Jack is saying.

  I also understand that the computer is no longer beeping. The soldier stumbles off of me and curses, pounding at the keyboard.

  Upload complete.

  Jack roars. I’ve never heard such a savage sound come from him. He picks up the soldier’s gun—it must have come off him at some point during the fight—and, holding it by the barrel, cracks it against the soldier’s helmet as hard as he can. The soldier sways for a moment and then falls to the floor. Then Jack scrambles toward me, and there’s fear and desperation written so clearly on his face, I blink. Why is he so scared? We did it. We uploaded my father’s program. Right now, my father should be miles below the ocean, working with the tech crew to set up the link to the server. If it works, then we will have given the citizens of New America a fighting chance. I watch the screens, waiting to see if something happens, but Jack steps into my line of sight.

  “Oh, Terra.”

  I look around him just in time to see all the monitors go black. I smile. We did it. I turn back to Jack, expecting to see his exultant face, but instead his hands flutter over me, and I find that for some reason I have no more strength. As I collapse back into his arms, the knife twists inside of me. Oh, the knife.

  “Try not to move.”

  Jack is using his doctor’s voice—the calm but determined voice he always uses when tending to someone. But his voice is a shade different this time. It’s tremulous.

  His hands stroke the air over me, and I’ve never seen him more uncertain. Finally he brings his
fingers down close to where the knife juts out. I glance at it once and see the blood well up around the steel. I look away.

  “Just look at me, Terra.” Jack’s gentle hands find my cheek and turn my face to his. His eyes are dewy and wide, but his gaze doesn’t falter. “Just always look at me. I have to get you out of here.”

  I nod. If he gets me away from here, if he can get me to the sub, then we’ll both be okay. Jack yanks off his jacket and carefully wraps it around the knife and my torso.

  The soldier’s walkie-talkie crackles. “Report on the computer.”

  The soldier’s unconscious body lies in a heap. If he doesn’t answer, more will descend on us in a matter of moments.

  “Lieutenant are you there? Report.”

  “Let’s go,” Jack says. He helps me wrap my arm around his neck, and then he carefully puts his arms behind my back and under my knees. The knife bites at me and I whistle a breath.

  “I’m sorry, Terra. I’m so sorry. This is going to hurt. Just be brave for me. One last time.”

  I nod and grit my teeth as he hefts me up. The pain radiates from my ribs, touching every nerve and setting my body ablaze. Jack stumbles between the desks and over the soldier’s body, but he makes it to the door. He steps past Dave’s body, and I clench my eyes closed. Then he turns down the corridor the way we came. In the distance, I hear shouting and the thump of footsteps against metal. They’re coming for us—I’m not sure where they are, but they’re coming and we have to hurry. I cling more tightly to Jack’s neck.

  “I know. I just can’t go too quickly or I’ll make it worse.”

  I don’t have to ask what will be worse, and I’m glad he doesn’t say it. If he had said “It’ll make your probably fatal knife wound worse,” I would have made him drop me on the spot and run for the sub alone. Then I would know he’d be able to get away. We’re too slow together, but I’m grateful he holds me to him. With my head resting against his chest, I can hear his heart beating out the rhythm that drives his legs and will get us out of here.

  We turn a corner and sunlight pierces the dim corridor.

  “Almost there,” Jack pants, sidestepping the debris and crates littering the storage room. He pokes his head through the door to the outside and peers left and right, but there’s no one. Of course there’s no one. They’re all headed to the server room where they think we still are. This half-forgotten part of the barge will stay that way. Half-forgotten. At least something can make me smile over the throbbing in my ribs.