by Ann Pino
They settled into the van with David, Galahad, and two other foragers, who all wore blue suede gauntlets. The driver, who appeared barely older than fourteen, turned the shuttle out of the cul-de-sac and soon they were on their way toward the skyscrapers of downtown.
“So have you done any hunting?” David asked Cassie, stretching out on the seat in front of her.
“Just target practice.” She hadn’t been into the city in months, and gazed out the cracked window in curiosity at the wrecked and abandoned cars on the side of the road. Some had burned, some were stripped of parts, and some looked like children were living in them, or had tried to for awhile.
“We used to hunt dogs and cats,” David went on. “But they’ve been scarce since winter because there’s so much competition from the other groups. We’re starting to consider park squirrels and pigeons. Any experience with that sort of thing?”
“Traps and snares.”
“The ones we tried don’t work.”
“I learned to make some in my survival courses. I can show you.” Cassie watched a group of girls run out of a grocery store, shouting and waving clubs made from mop handles.
David saw where she was looking. “Brats. I’m surprised they haven’t gotten food poisoning or been picked up.”
“They should be careful. It’s sad what some of the older guys are doing to the girls,” Galahad said.
“Sad for the girls, I guess. For the guys, it’s just a good time.” David turned back to Cassie. “Speaking of food poisoning, do you know anything about food storage? There’s a girl in our group who knows how to use a dehydrator, but it needs electricity. We tried laying some dog meat on the deck by the pool, but it went bad.”
“Did you boil and salt it first?”
He slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Boiling! Who’d have thought?”
“And you’ll want some kind of netting to keep the flies off.”
While David mulled this over, Cassie noticed a cluster of signs in front of a church. Some were neatly painted, others less so, and they all seemed to be about sinners.
“Christian Soldiers,” David said. “They blame everyone who isn’t one of them for the Telo. They say it’s punishment for our sins.”
Leila leaned across the aisle. “But we’re still alive. Why didn’t God punish us, if we’re so sinful?”
“This is our punishment, Galahad said. “To be living like animals.”
“And don’t worry about being alive,” David added. “If they catch you, they’ll fix that.”
Cassie sat back in her seat. “So is the whole city like this? Just a bunch of tribes squabbling over who gets to eat the cats and whose fault everything is?”
Galahad shrugged. “Pretty much. I wish—”
“Back to what you were saying about drying meat,” David interrupted. “I think we can get netting.” He looked at Galahad. “The Thespians will have some. Maybe we can cut a deal, if they can stand to be parted from their petticoats.”
“Who are the Thespians?” Leila asked.
“They live at the theater,” Galahad explained. “They go around in costumes and greasepaint, but they’re basically all right. We’re on friendly terms with them.”
He was about to say more when the driver cursed. “Roadblock.”
While David and Galahad rushed to the front of the van, Leila and Cassie stared at each other.
“It’s just kids,” David said with relief.
“Should I try to break through?” the driver asked.
“No. We don’t want to damage the shuttle. There’s enough of us to break up their little nursery party. We might even have some fun.” He drew a pistol from the holster at his hip. “Grab your guns, folks,” he said. “Don’t be afraid to use them if they pull any tricks.”
Reluctantly, Cassie reached for her father’s hunting rifle, which she had brought along in its leather case. Beside her, Leila picked up Cassie’s target rifle, even though she had no clue how to use it. “Pretend like you know what you’re doing, and don’t point it at any of us,” Cassie whispered as the shuttle slowed to a stop. “Since it’s just a bunch of little ones, they’ll probably run off.”
Leila nodded and they moved to the front of the van.
They had stopped in front of a roadblock made of trash cans, furniture, and scrap lumber from burnt buildings. Around it, a group of dirty children glared. Two boys started throwing rocks, but their leader shouted at them and they stopped. He approached the van, brandishing a length of pipe. “This is a toll way. Give us some food.”
“Forget it, brat.” David held his gun high so all the kids could see. “Now clear this road before—”
The crack of a rock on the windshield cut him off.
“You little fuckers!” He fired a shot at the leader’s feet.
The kid jumped back with a yelp, and a storm of rocks, bricks and debris rained down on the shuttle, cracking windows and denting metal as the children whooped and shrieked. David opened fire, and Galahad and the other foragers opened the windows and began shooting. Cassie hung back at first, unsure what to do, but when some of the children rushed the shuttle and began rocking it back and forth, she made her way to a broken window.
“No!” David shouted. “Try to get the leader while I reload.”
Dodging rocks and leaning on the side of the door for balance, she raised the rifle to her shoulder. In the distance, she could see the boy who had accosted them doing something with a bottle and a lighter.
“Molotov cocktail!” Galahad called out.
“Shoot to kill,” said David.
Seeing no other option, Cassie fired.
“I said—”
She tried again and this time her shot hit home. The boy fell to the ground and the rioting children paused and looked at each other in confusion.
By now David had reloaded. He rushed down the steps and fired into the crowd. “Get out of here!”
The kids scattered and David grinned up at Cassie. “Nice work.”
* * *
David praised Cassie the rest of the way to the hotel, but she could take no satisfaction in what she had done. She didn’t know whether she had killed the boy or merely wounded him, but it would be the same, either way. Blood loss and infection were just as lethal as any bullet, and murder wasn’t something to be proud of. Besides, in spite of David’s instructions, she had aimed to miss. She caught a glance at the way Galahad was looking at her, curious and vaguely critical, and she hardened her features and turned away.
The van pulled into the circular drive of the once-elegant downtown hotel. The glass was broken out of the doors and front windows, and crude attempts had been made to patch the gaps with signs, plywood, and heavy curtains. A teenage girl and young boy stood guard under the tattered canopy, so much alike in features that it was obvious they were siblings. The girl said something to her brother and he scurried inside, then returned a minute later with a group of kids of all ages. David threw open the back doors and Galahad began handing down their scavenged goods.
As Leila and Cassie stepped off the van, the group paused, cans and boxes in their arms.
“Oh, yeah,” David said. “This is Cassie and Leila. They’ll be joining us.”
A redhead appraised the girls coolly. “They’ll need to be voted on.”
“I know.” He turned to Galahad. “You mind taking them to Mundo? He’s pissed at me right now.”
Galahad led the girls into the lobby, where some youngsters lounged on dirty plush sofas and chairs. They looked up at the group’s approach and a dog near a girl’s feet lifted his head, but no one made any move to get up.
“I thought you were having school, Galahad remarked.
“Alaina said we were a bunch of stupid ingrates,” a boy said from where he had draped himself over an ottoman. His clothes were damp with weeks of dirt, and grime was embedded in rings around his neck. He didn’t seem at all concerned about the insult or his education.
Gal
ahad frowned but kept walking with Cassie and Leila at his heels. They passed the hotel restaurant but saw no sign that any cooking or eating was going on. They wound down another hallway, carpeted in what was still a blue and gold pattern at the edges, but was mostly dried mud and debris down the center. Walls showed hand prints, graffiti and scuff marks, with only token attempts at cleaning. Finally they came to a door with a brass plate: Conference Suite A.
Inside, a small conference table was littered with dirty cups and plates. In a clear spot at one end, a powerfully-built older teen slumped in a chair while a younger boy with glasses and a lab coat wound a bandage around his hand. They both looked up and two guards who had been playing cards on a sofa under the window grabbed their weapons and jumped to their feet. When they realized it was only Galahad and a couple of girls, they sat down and resumed their game.
Galahad introduced Cassie and Leila to the young man at the end of the table, and Mundo smiled politely. “Sorry I can’t shake hands. Doc here is slow.”
The boy in the lab coat frowned. “Not my fault there’s no more band-aids. You guys need to be more careful. You’re lucky we’ve still got antibiotic ointment. Once that’s gone, we’ll have to cut a deal with the Pharms.”
Mundo waved his other hand. “Got to get something they want first.” He looked brightly at Galahad. “How was the foraging? Anything good besides a couple of pretty girls?”
Before Galahad could speak, Cassie said, “I’m not a commodity.”
“She’s a survival expert,” Galahad explained. “She says she knows about fire safety, plant identification…things like that.”
Mundo started to lean forward, but Doc’s tug on his hand stopped him. Annoyed, Mundo stretched his arm back out, but kept his eyes on Cassie, sizing her up with greater interest than before. “Tell me what all you can do. Food and water are our big concerns right now. Winter sucked and we need to do some long-range planning.”
“She says she knows how to make jerky,” Galahad offered.
“We can’t live off jerky,” Doc said. He finished wrapping Mundo’s hand and dropped his scissors, ointment and bandages into a leather bag. “We need to find a new source of vitamins or we’re going have our teeth fall out from scurvy, and don’t even get me started on pellagra.”
“Have you tried rose hips?” Cassie asked. “If you can find some dead roses, you’ll have plenty of vitamin C.”
Doc’s thin face broke into a smile. “Are you sure about that? There’s a florist shop near here. No one’s touched it.”
“If we can find a book on plant ID, we can find a lot of uses for dead flowers.”
Mundo nodded. “I’ll arrange a guard so you can go to the library.”
Galahad cleared his throat. “She still has to be voted on.” Then he indicated Leila. “And her.”
Mundo turned to Leila with interest. “Are you a survival expert, too?”
Leila’s cheeks flushed. “No, I’m sorry. I can sew a little. And cook.”
This answer didn’t please anyone, but Mundo covered nicely and told Galahad to find the girls a room on one of the upper floors. “After supper, we’ll have you brought to our evening meeting and we’ll take a vote on whether to let you join.”
After Mundo dismissed them, Galahad led them from the room and down a dark hallway. “I hope you don’t mind stairs,” he said, picking up a common-use flashlight. “Only group members and VIPs get to stay on the lower floors.” He switched on the light and pulled open the stairwell door. “But you’ll be taken care of and I’m sure they’ll vote you on, even if it’s only provisional.”
As they puffed their way to the sixth floor, Leila said, “Provisional?”
“There’s three possible outcomes to a membership vote: yes, no, or provisional.”
“But what does provisional mean?” Cassie asked.
“Two weeks.” Galahad pushed open the door at the sixth floor and led them to a musty room at the end of the hall. “After that, we vote again. We’ve only had one person not come off provisional status and it was because he was lazy and we kicked him out before he could come up for vote a second time.” Galahad opened the curtains so they could see out the window. “Lots of natural light in here, even if it is kind of stuffy. Someone will be up soon with food, water and a lantern.”
“What about our bags?” Cassie asked.
“They’re safe. Unless there’s something specific you need, you’re better off waiting until after the vote. If you get voted on, you’ll be given another room on a lower floor and it’ll be just another thing to carry.”
She nodded and was about to sit down, but the way Galahad stood watching her gave her pause. “Was there something else?”
“What you said about rose hips. Are you sure?”
“Yes. Why?”
“My cousin is sick. It looks like scurvy and he needs vitamins pretty bad. The idiot kept giving away his vitamin ration during the winter, something about doing Jesus’ work.”
“If it’s only a deficiency, we can get him well.”
“And another thing….”
From the look in his eyes Cassie could guess what was coming next. “No,” she said. “I didn’t mean to shoot that boy. I just wanted to scare him.” She looked away, blinking so he wouldn’t see her sudden tears.
To her surprise he touched her on the shoulder. “You did right. Sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to do. It doesn’t make us bad people.”
Cassie nodded but refused to meet his gaze. She would have to be tougher than this if she was going to survive in a gang.
After he had gone, Leila and Cassie each sat on a bed.
“Don’t lie. You killed that boy on purpose.”
“I did not. Besides, we were in danger.”
“It was just a bunch of little kids.”
“They had Molotov cocktails. They could’ve set the van on fire.”
Leila folded her arms across her chest. “You just wanted to get in good with them. You want to make yourself look special so I’ll look even more useless than I am.” She lay down and pulled a corner of the bedspread over her face.
“You’re not useless,” Cassie said. “I’m sure you’ve got more to offer than those kids we saw in the lobby. A good attitude is all that’s really needed.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” came the muffled voice from the bed. “They’ll vote you on right away and I’ll be lucky not to end up alone on the streets.”
“We’re a two-for-one deal. They vote us both on, or neither of us.”
Leila moved the bedspread away from her face. “You really mean that?”
“Of course I do. You know I don’t want to run with a gang, anyway. If we weren’t so hungry….”
“Yeah,” Leila said. “It makes us do stupid things.”
* * *
Dinner was brought to them in their room—an odd meal of questionable meat that Leila wouldn’t touch and some hard flat things that looked like fried oatmeal. They were given a water ration which Cassie sterilized with the UV sanitizer she kept in her pocket, and after they had eaten and cleaned up so as not to provide temptation for rats or roaches, Galahad returned to take them downstairs.
The girls were led before a motley group of children ranging in age from three-year old Bethany who was related to the girl in charge of housekeeping assignments, to nineteen-year old Alex, a former college ROTC student who was leader of the guards. Mundo asked Cassie and Leila to go before the group and tell about their qualifications and reasons for wanting to join.
Cassie gave a quick description of her survival skills and interest in herbs and plants. When she fell silent, David and Galahad recounted how she had helped defend the shuttle. With their endorsement, she was unanimously voted on.
Leila, who could only muster up a few vague accomplishments and assurances that she was a hard worker, was given provisional status.
“What happened to this ‘two for one deal,’ she demanded once they had been shown
to their new room on the third floor, a few doors down from the deck and outdoor pool.
“You were voted on,” Cassie said. “They’ll take you off provisional at the next vote. If they don’t, I’ll quit.”
“That’s not what you promised before.”
“I said I wouldn’t let them kick you out altogether, not—”
“Oh, forget it.” Leila had finished hanging her clothes in the closet and went to wash her face, using nearly half their water ration.
In no mood to argue, Cassie lay down. “The beds are pretty comfortable,” she offered, hoping to change the subject.
“That’s good,” Leila said in a tone that implied she didn’t care one way or the other.
“I wonder what’s for breakfast in the morning.”
“As long as it’s not pets, I don’t care.”
“Think they’ll give us good assignments?”
“Maybe they’ll ask you to kill some more children.”
Cassie resisted the temptation to call Leila a bitch and went to sleep.
CHAPTER THREE
Breakfast was lumpy hot cereal of various types mixed together and set out on a buffet table for everyone to serve themselves. A guard stood watch, writing names on a clipboard so there would be no second helpings.
True to his promise, Mundo had ordered a library expedition, so while Leila checked the duty roster for her day’s assignment, Cassie gulped her food and then hurried to the lobby to meet her group. Doc was already waiting and greeted her with enthusiasm. “I’ve been trying to get permission for a library trip for a month.”
“I’m glad I can help, I guess,” Cassie said, noting the embroidered name “Brody” on Doc’s lab coat.
Doc saw where she was looking. “My dad was a biomedical researcher. I like to wear his coats. Mom had them embroidered special.”
Cassie nodded, wondering with a sudden pang if it had been a mistake not to bring her father’s heavy down parka. She had left it behind because the shuttle had been nearly full and she didn’t want to take anything she wouldn’t need now that it was spring. But what about next winter? She would miss the warm thick comfort that had reminded her of her father’s arms as she lay alone in her dark room or sat up late with Leila, whispering her fears for the future.