by Nancy Isaak
Fourth—as you all know, we’ve lost electricity and running water. The brilliant Traynesha Davis (beside Orla, Tray nodded her head in faux-modesty) has tested batteries from a number of different sources and none of them will produce power either. Thus, there is no telephone, no television, no internet. Sadly, we cannot Google, Pin, Tweet, Snap, or Wiki any more. And for those of you suffering Facebook withdrawal—we share your pain (more giggles at this).
Fifth—as to who is responsible. If this is an attack by someone foreign, domestic, or non-terrestrial—we have no evidence. If this is a plague, there are no bodies. For those of you who believe that this is the ‘End of Times’—well, we have no idea why we would be left behind.”
(“Because we’re all sinners!” a girl called out from one of the rows near the front. I noticed that it was a blond girl—Reena—a 10th grader from my Chemistry class. Almost immediately, one of the patrolling 12th graders came over and said something in Reena’s ear. She didn’t say another word after that, just looked down at the floor.)
“Now, as you all read on the flyer, if we’re going to survive this—‘thing’—then we have to come together and organize. Again, our lovely Sophia has been an amazing help with the gathering of names and addresses. Getting an accurate account of those who survived and where they live is extremely important right now, so that we can assign tasks suitable to each person’s abilities.”
(Beside me, Jay hissed under her breath—“Who died and made her God?!”)
“Another reason is that we have discovered that other girls have survived in other neighborhoods. Our patrols have already come across looting in our malls from groups outside of our district. So we need to organize to protect ourselves.
It is also vitally important to protect what we have. As you can see (she motioned toward the patrolling-girls), the 11th and 12th graders have created a ‘Protection Detail’. It will be in charge of the defense and protection of our community and Traynesha Davis will be in charge. Thank you to those of you who have already offered up weapons to arm them. Anyone else who has a firearm, bow and arrow, hunting knife—anything that can help defend us—I urge you to please turn it into the Detail as soon as possible.”
(I looked over at Jude; she was motionless and expressionless. Jay, on the other hand, was shifting from foot to foot, her mouth open, looking stupefied.)
“As far as the food supply goes—we’ll be organizing teams to empty out Ralphs and Vons. We won’t be able to defend both places, so it just makes sense to bring all the food here to the school where we can control it. By putting all the food in one place and creating a fair distribution system—we’ll all be able to survive.
We will also have other teams going through the houses in our neighborhood. They will be assigned to bring back any foodstuff, weapons, or anything else that might be of use to us. These things will also be stored in the school, where they can be better protected by our Detail.
When the search teams go through the neighborhood, we will be using a classification system, much like they use during the hurricanes on the East Coast. We will mark every house that we’ve been to, so that other teams don’t repeat the search.
For those of you who aren’t interested in joining the search teams, there will be other teams, such as cleaning and cooking. Trust me—there will be a job for everyone’s talents and capabilities.
Now, as far as meals go, to conserve our supplies, we will be eating in the cafeteria together—three meals a day, breakfast at 8 a.m., lunch at noon, and supper at 6 p.m. If you don’t get there on time, you will be out of luck, so please plan accordingly. If you want to eat at your own home, you will be required to bring your own dishes—for obvious reasons—to pick up your food.
Please understand that things will probably be a little difficult and confusing at first until we find our routine, until we get everything inventoried and sorted out. Therefore, it will help us out greatly if you all follow your instructions exactly as given, so you can each contribute to our ‘new society’.
That said, if you do not want to be part of what we are building here—we understand that is your right. However, you will not be allowed access to our food stores. Only those who contribute will be fed. You will not be protected. You will not be allowed entrance to the school for any reason.
Also—we need a government.
As your highest-elected Student Council member, I am happy to undertake the position of interim-President, until our situation improves and a true election can be held. Both Traynesha Davis and Peyton Buckingham—also Student Council elected members—will assist me.
Of course, the Protection Detail will fall directly under our Council’s jurisdiction. To maintain a chain-of-command, they will answer to the three of us only. And for the good of all, any infraction—minor or otherwise—will be dealt with immediately and severely by the Detail.
I am sure, however, that you will all do your very best to follow their instructions. It will, of course, be in the best interest of everyone.
Please know that the Protection Detail will be patrolling from Chesebro Road up to Kanan Road and from the 101 Freeway over to Calabria Drive. These will be our community’s new boundaries and—inside this area—the Protection Detail will be the law.
If you are planning on traveling outside of this area, know that you will be on your own. Also—and I am sorry if this sounds harsh—if you leave this area without prior authorization, understand that you might not be allowed back in.
In closing, thank you very much for showing up for this first meeting. This is a scary, confusing time for all of us, but I know that—if we all work together—we can both survive and prosper.
Thank you.”
While there was applause for Orla’s speech, it certainly wasn’t thunderous. As I looked around the room, I could see that—in direct contrast to the excited laughter from before—many of the girls were now looking worried and scared about what they had just heard.
Beside me, however, Jude was clapping loudly, a big smile on her face. I was confused for a moment by her reaction, until I realized how brilliant it was.
She was pretending to be one of them.
I immediately began clapping just as loud as Jude.
* * * *
As Orla left the stage and disappeared behind the curtain, Peyton Buckingham rose from her seat and pranced over to the dais. She smoothed down the pleated skirt she was wearing and tugged her school sweater into place.
“Hi, everyone!” she waved, cheerfully.
The applause for her was polite and died down very quickly.
“Okay, bitches. Well, I just wanted to say that the sign-up sheets for the different work teams are over there.” She pointed to a row of papers taped to a wall nearby. “Like your President said, breakfast is at 8 a.m. tomorrow and then work detail starts at 9. Thank you.”
And she turned and flounced off the stage.
Tray followed—having said not a single word.
A group of four Protection Detail girls immediately surrounded them, following like a security team.
“Did you notice what she was wearing?” Jude asked me. “The Peyton bitch?”
“School sweater,” I answered
Jude nodded. “Yellow and blue.”
My eyebrows went up, surprised. “You think it was the Foxes who left you behind in the supermarket?”
She just shrugged. “Maybe…whatever. Let’s sign up on the teams going through the townhouses.” Jude walked off, with Lily trailing behind her like a little duckling.
Jay, meanwhile, pulled me aside. “Are we really going to sign up for work detail?”
I nodded. “Until we see how things go, it’s probably the smartest thing to do, don’t you think? Especially since they’re going to be taking all the food from the stores.”
“No, I don’t think!” said Jay, angrily. “This is stupid, Kaylee! The Foxes are like trying to build their own empire or something. They’re ordering us around like we�
�re their serfs!”
“Keep your voice down!” I hissed at her. “Look around you. See how many older girls there are—the ones with guns?”
“We’re not supposed to even have guns in Agoura Hills!” Jay complained. “This is the suburbs! Somebody needs to stop them. This is just plain wrong.”
“Why? Because we don’t like the Foxes?” I snapped—a little harsher than I really intended. “Well, this is what leaders do, Jay…they lead! Whether we like it or not, someone had to take charge and the Foxes did it first. Now they’re building something here and we either have to join it or leave. That’s the choice we have.”
Jay’s eyes filled with tears. “I hate this. This is so unfair! All my life I’ve had someone telling me what I had to do—wash this, mop that, clean up after your stupid brothers because it’s a girl’s responsibility. Marry your second cousin even though you’ve never met him and my Auntie says his breath stinks of garlic and curry. Kaylee, I know this sounds terrible but, for the first time in my life, I was actually feeling free—like a normal, American girl. Now the Foxes are going to take that all away again and I hate it!”
I put an arm around Jay’s shoulder. “I know…and I totally agree with you. But, right now, we simply have to follow the rules.”
Returning from the sign-up sheets, Jude heard this last bit. She grinned at Jay and tapped her on the head. “Let’s just say that we’ll follow some of them, right, Skipper?”
* * * *
After work detail sign-up—with the exception of the Foxes, who were nowhere to be seen—all the girls met in one of the rehearsal halls for tea and cookies. As in the main theater, the lighting was provided by tiki torches stuck in pails of sand. Someone had also strung fairy lights all around the room, which was kind of ironic since there was no electricity to actually run them.
The cookies were store-bought (or taken) and the tea was as tepid as the conversation. Even though girls were hugging and crying, happy to see friends and classmates still alive, there was an undercurrent of fear in the room.
Worried looks and frowns were everywhere.
The one exception seemed to be Sophia. She flitted happily among the various groups, making sure everyone had their tea, bringing cookies around on a tray.
“What’s with Sophia?” Jay asked, as she munched on a ginger snap. “I thought she was a Continuation girl. Is she with the Foxes now?”
“I don’t think it’s like that with Sophia,” I answered. “She’s always been friendly with everybody. I think that’s just her personality.”
Jude nudged me with her elbow, motioning to Cherry and the two girls with her. “Hey, Barbie,” she asked, “who’s the colored kid?”
“Ohmigod, Jude,” exclaimed Jay. “Racist much!”
“I think that’s Cherry’s sister,” I answered. “They’re both adopted.”
“Hmm,” said Jude. “I’m adopted.”
“You should go over and talk to them. Maybe make friends.”
“Maybe.” But Jude didn’t make a move; she just stood there, staring.
* * * *
A little while later, Jay nodded toward a very pretty blond girl, who was standing near the door. She was 10-years old—with long, straight hair that was pulled back into two braids. The girl was wearing designer jeans and a violet silk blouse that came almost to her knees. On her feet were pink Converse High Tops that had been bedazzled with sparkly gems.
“Amelie survived!” I gasped, trying not to stare.
* * * *
Everyone knew Amelie in Agoura Hills.
It wasn’t just that she was rich or that she was Peyton Buckingham’s younger sister; it was that Amelie was an actress who had just finished starring in a recent blockbuster movie. The rumor was that she had received well over a million dollars for her role as a fairy princess-gone-bad, and that her next movie was going to make her even more money—double that amount.
In her own way, Amelie was Agoura Hills’ royalty.
She was so busy working these days, usually on location, that we didn’t see her that often. But when we did, everyone always stopped to stare—or talk behind their hands—giggling and blushing at the young starlet.
* * * *
Today—even though the world and the rules had changed—the girls in the reception room were still acting as though Amelie was a star. No one went near her; instead they just tittered away in their little groups—checking Amelie’s clothes out, looking her up and down, wondering out loud what made her so much better than them.
I felt bad for the younger girl—even as Jay and I were too shy to approach her.
The same, of course, couldn’t be said for Jude.
“Hey, movie queen!” barked Jude, motioning her over. “Come on. I’ve got someone I want you to meet.”
For a moment, Amelie just stood there, staring at Jude.
I was immediately concerned because, let’s face it—Amelie was the sister of one of the Foxes. But—looking just as shy as Jay and I were feeling—Amelie actually came over and stood before our small group.
“Hello,” she squeaked, in a tiny voice, staring shyly down at her pink sneakers.
“You’re that actor-girl,” said Jude.
“Sometimes.”
“My mom saw your film. She said you were good.”
“Thanks.”
“This is Lily,” said Jude. “She’s my little cousin and could use a friend.”
Cousin?
“I go to Sumac Elementary,” piped Lily, enthusiastically.
“That used to be my elementary school,” said Amelie, her face lighting up with a beautiful smile.
“They got ginger snaps over there. You want to go and get some with me?”
The smile on Amelie’s face actually got bigger. “Sure!”
As the two girls walked away, I turned to Jude. “You are seriously, too devious for words,” I told her. “Making friends with a baby-Fox. Why do people keep saying you’re dumb?”
Jude shrugged. “I am dumb…book-dumb.”
I shook my head. “Nah, I don’t think so. I think that maybe there’s something else going on there in that big head of yours.”
With a snort, Jude reached out and gave the top of my head a smack. “Don’t be a tool, Barbie.”
And she walked off to join Lily and Amelie at the cookie table.
* * * *
A few moments later, Sophia Rojas came around once more with her tray of cookies. “Did you get enough to eat?” she asked, happily.
Jay reached out for another cookie. “I thought you lived in Thousand Oaks.”
“Yes, I do,” said Sophia, her smile disappearing. “But Mommy, she was gone and I got scared, so I came over here on my bike. I thought Cherry or Wandy—maybe they would be at the school. No one was here, though. I was just sitting in the parking lot, not knowing what to do…then Tray and Orla found me.”
“But Cherry and Wandy are here now,” said Jay.
“They came, maybe five days later…with Shawnee.”
“Is Shawnee Cherry’s sister?” I asked.
“The black girl,” Sophia nodded. “Yeah, she is a real sweetheart. You are going to love her. Everyone does.”
“You’re working for the Foxes now?” asked Jay.
Sophia frowned. “I am working for the community—for all of us.” She was quiet for a moment, looking uncomfortable. “The Foxes—they took good care of me when I was all alone. They are not really so bad—not like everyone thinks.”
Jay was having none of that. “Don’t you think it’s weird that the Foxes took control so quickly? You’re okay with that?”
If anything, Sophia’s frown got even deeper. “They are just trying to get us organized. To help us all survive.”
I reached behind Jay, poking a finger in her back and turning it. Hopefully she would get the message and shut up.
But Jay, of course—was Jay.
“Well, what have they actually done so far?” asked Jay. “Looks to me lik
e the only thing they’ve really done is make rules and give orders. Looks to me like you and that Protection Detail are the ones who are doing all the work.”
Sophia shrugged. “There must always be a queen bee. I am okay, being a worker bee.” She reached down and massaged her right hand. “All this writing, it is a big pain, though. I cannot believe how much it hurts— to actually use a pen again.”
Before Jay could open her mouth, I quickly jumped in. “I know what you mean, Sophia. It’s like so easy when you just can type stuff on the keyboard. Pens and handwriting are so old-school.”
“Totally,” she nodded. “Well, okay, girls—I must go now. I have people to see, cookies to deliver.”
She moved on to the next group of girls.
I spun on Jay, irritated. “Way to keep a low profile.”
Jay looked at her feet, unhappy. “This is stupid.”
“Without a doubt,” I agreed. “But what’s stupider is letting them know that we think it’s stupid. Come on, Jay. You’re supposed to be the smart one in our group.”
“I thought Jude was the smart one now,” Jay groused.
“Ooo,” I poked her in the arm. “You’re jealous of Jude-the-Rude.”
“Shaddup!”
“You shaddup.”
But by that time, we were smiling at each other again. Because, no matter what, Jay and I were sisters.
Like my mom always says—you fight, you irritate, then you forgive.
That’s just another definition of family.
* * * *
“Hey, look.” Jay brought my attention over to where Jude was now sitting with the Continuation School girls. She and Cherry had their heads close together and seemed to be having a very serious conversation. “Wonder what that’s about…Jude and Cherry?”