by Anthology
“Damn it.” I slammed my hand on the steering wheel.
“WHAT?” FEELING A jolt in the cab, I grabbed the rifle beside me and looked at Troy.
“Oh, sorry.” He cut his eyes to me and then back to the road. “Everything’s okay,” he said, his jaw tense and veins bulging on his temple.
“You sure.”
“Yeah, no, I’m good. Just letting off some steam. Don’t know my own strength. This cab’s a little rickety.” He ran a palm up his steering arm to his shoulder and back down to his hand gripping the wheel.
I had long fingers, but I doubted I could get them around his bicep. “It’s okay. How long was I out?” I stretched out my legs and arms, turning over my wrist to see my watch. Realizing I’d been out an hour, I cut my eyes back to him. His stance hadn’t relaxed. I rolled my eyes to the ceiling and then leaned forward to look out the windshield. “Whole lotta nothing out there.”
“You can say that again.”
I took a deep breath. “You want to talk about it?”
“Just had a moment.”
Dad had taught me not only the physical aspects required to live off the grid, but the psychological components too. When I’d had a mental spiral during Troy’s nap, I rehearsed what Dad told me to do, addressed the feeling straight on. My anger and fear could’ve had me bordering on hysteria, but acknowledging them helped keep them in check. I didn’t know Troy. Not everyone was comfortable sharing their feelings. I didn’t often. My friend Ava, Mom, and Dad were my circle, and I rarely strayed from divulging to others outside it.
Still, Troy and I were stuck sharing the burden of getting the families to Nevada. We had to trust each other. Raking my hair into a bun, I took another deep breath. “I had several of those earlier.”
He looked at me for a second. “Yeah. You look so calm. I’d never believe you were fifteen.”
“Almost sixteen.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, you keep reminding me of that. I hope you don’t expect like a cake or anything.”
“Chocolate is my favorite.”
“I will put it on the list of demands as soon as we get to this cave place. Steak, potatoes, chocolate cake, and… oh yeah, to go back home.” He made bug eyes at me and gripped the top of the wheel with both hands.
“We should stop, take a break. I’m sure those guys need it.” I pointed to the trailer behind us.
“Okay. I’ve been talking to the cave people. They said we can drive all night on low lights if we need them.”
“Anything that will get us there faster.”
Troy let the truck slow to a stop. When he cut the lights, my breath caught in my lungs. I’d never seen complete darkness before, and my nerves tingled with fear. Clutching the gun, I blinked my eyes to get them to adjust. They didn’t. There wasn’t any light to be had.
“Whoa, that is freaky.”
“What?”
“It’s so dark. It’s not freaking you out?”
“Oh, yeah, sure. Here.” He held his arm out and the green glow from his watch illuminated the dash.
“Thanks.” I opened the glove box and retrieved a flashlight. With it trained on the ground, I made my way to the doors of the trailer. Mom was the first one out.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just taking a break. How about back here?”
“Kids could probably use one before getting to sleep. Good timing.”
There weren’t any trees, just low dry shrubs, and groups dispersed in the dark. When I came back to the cab, I leaned against the bumper and shut off my light, trying to calm my senses. Even though Troy seemed a little stressed, he’d been helpful all day. Maybe he wouldn’t stay at the camp, but I figured he wouldn’t abandon us mid-trip.
“You notice the stars?” Mom asked.
Looking up, I saw what she meant. I’d only seen so many spots of light in the sky at Owen’s farm. “It’s like this in Montana.”
“Must be why you like going with your dad so much.”
“I am even more grateful for those trips now.”
She wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “I am so proud of you. You were amazing today.”
“Enough, Mom.”
“What? I mean it.”
“I know, but I need to just keep being strong. Okay?”
She stood. “Got it.” She grabbed me and hugged me tight. “I love you. Thank you.”
“Okay, Mom.” I unwound her hands from my arms.
“We should get going.” I took a step away.
“Got it, chief.”
“Mom!”
“Okay, I’ll stop, little bird.” She cupped her hand around my cheek.
“You haven’t called me that in years.”
“Well, you’re flying now.”
I shook my head to clear my emotions. I wasn’t a little girl any more.
I heard Troy approaching. “You ready?”
“Yep. I’ll drive.”
Mom and Lacey confirmed the head count, and I jumped into the driver’s seat.
“Two hour shifts?” Troy asked as I revved the engine.
“Sounds like a plan.”
WE DROVE THROUGH the night as they instructed, over another pass, past a large lake, and between two other mountain ranges. By first light, we were within an hour of reaching Nevada. Stopping in the last trunk-littered area, a barren plain stretched east for miles.
“Goodbye forest, hello desert,” Troy said as he killed the engine. “I’ve always wanted to live in a snake-infested sandbox.” He released his seat belt.
Ignoring his comment, I shoved the door open. Slinging the rifle over my shoulder, in case of snakes, I walked to the back of the truck and opened the doors. Mom, Nave, and the others trickled out as they woke up, taking time for a private break among the dead trees.
I hoisted the food boxes down and distributed the meals, dreading the next eight hours. The person we were communicating with had stressed over and over how important the stop and start schedule was in the open terrain. I looked to the east at the rising sun. Heat waves already radiated off the ground. The night had been cool, but the temperature was rising fast. Climbing into the transport container, I inspected the sides. We needed to get more air so everyone wouldn’t end up with heat strokes.
Finding Lacey, I asked her to help make holes in the metal. Examining the walls above the benches, we realized the metal panels were bolted together. We grabbed a couple wrenches and removed some screws, taking out two panels from each side. The interior felt cooler, and I figured the movement of the truck would keep a good breeze going.
Stowing the metal pieces behind the bags, I checked the time. We had five minutes till it was time to load up, and I wandered away from the truck, wishing I didn’t have to pee when I felt nervous. Looping back to the group, the radio Dad had given me buzzed. Jogging towards Troy, I asked him to answer in case someone else had Dad’s device.
Dad’s voice came through the radio. “Who’s speaking?”
“That him?” Troy asked me. I nodded. Troy’s voice deepened. “Troy Masterson, sir.”
I grabbed the walkie-talkie from him. “Dad. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, everything went fine. We’re back on base. Are you guys good?”
I gave him our status in a few sentences. My alarm beeped, and Troy let out a long whistle. Approaching Mom, I handed her the radio and started packing to leave. My watch beeped again, and I called for everyone to get back in the trailer. Nave and Mom were at the back of the line, still talking to Dad.
“Okay, pipsqueak.” I squatted to lift Nave up into the truck.
She batted my hand away. “I can do it.” Her eyes narrowed, and she stuck out her bottom lip. “I’m not little anymore.”
“What’s wrong?”
“You don’t even pay any attention to me.”
Her words stung. I hadn’t thought about giving my sister some extra time. I probably hadn’t for a year. She was always right under my nose, asking questions, and I avoided h
er like the plague.
“Tell you what. I brought my bow, and Dad said you were old enough to learn how to shoot. When we get to the camp, I’ll teach you how to hunt rabbits.” I scanned the arid scape, hoping there would be a jackrabbit population.
“Really?” Her eyes grew big, and her cheeks rose.
“Yep. Now, you want that lift?” I laced my fingers together about a foot from the ground. “Step here, and then you can get up by yourself.”
Once Nave was in, I turned to Mom. “Thank you.” She handed me the radio, tears streaming down her face.
I wrapped my arms around her. “It’s going to be okay.”
“I’m the one who’s supposed to be telling you that.”
FOR THE NEXT eight hours, the voice over the radio directed us to stop and go at random intervals. Sometimes we drove for twenty minutes, sometimes thirty. The longest haul lasted only forty-one minutes.
“I might have to punch this guy when we get there,” Troy said as he called copy into the radio on the last leg.
With just one small area of dead forest after we crossed into Nevada, empty, sandy desert had dominated the landscape since. Sweaty and hot, all I wanted was a cold shower, warm meal, and decent mattress.
We followed the coordinates the contact gave us and found ourselves at an air field. Driving across the tarmac, Troy stopped the vehicle in front of a hangar. I felt like we should be celebrating, but the place looked deserted. A chill ran down my spine.
“You got your weapons on you?” Troy asked.
“Yeah, why?”
“Hide one under the seat just in case.
I slid my knife under the seat, and he put one of his pistols under his.
“Here goes nothing,” he said and heaved his door open. I climbed out onto the ramp, rifle in hand. As soon as we’d shut the cab doors, a voice called out, and we spun to find the source. Scanning the roof, I spotted a huge speaker.
“Hello,” the voice repeated. “There’s no need for weapons. Please have your party line up on the yellow line for decontamination.”
I scanned the pavement, finding the line indicated.
“So much for a hot meal,” Troy said as we walked to the back of the truck.
“I’m pretty sure we’re at least getting showers.”
“I’m thinking a bleach shower.” He heaved a door open. “Hey, put your weapon in here.” He lifted the lid off a floor compartment.
We helped the others out, unloaded the personal gear, and stood on the line as indicated. When finished with the task, the voice started again. “Please proceed through the open doors. Women on the left, men on the right.”
“Guess you’re with me, little man.” Troy held his fist out to Jack who tapped his knuckles to Troy’s.
A hangar door rolled open, and we walked into a long empty room. The door closed behind us. Cool air blew from vents, but there were no other sounds or evidence of human activity.
“Please proceed through the doors in front of you.”
Jumping, I examined the walls to find a speaker panel near the ceiling. Nave fitted herself under my arm. I patted her back. “It’s going to be okay.” Hearing a quiet motor, I looked up to see two doors sliding open. Above them there was a W and an M spray painted on the wall. Swallowing hard, I glanced at Troy. He nodded just the slightest bit and walked to the doors.
Hand tight around Nave’s, I led the women through the door marked W. In the room there was a long table and bench.
“Please set your bags on the table. Remove all your clothes and proceed to the showers. All of your items will be decontaminated and returned to you.” Alarmed again, I dug my nails into my fists. This time the voice was female and I scanned the walls, finding yet another speaker.
“Jema?” Nave’s large eyes stared up at me.
“It’s okay.” I nodded to her and set my bag on the table. The other women did the same, helping children slip off shoes and socks.
I removed my shoes and the rest of my clothes. It wasn’t going to be the cool shower I envisioned, but I hoped they had razors. I liked having smooth legs. Another door opened to reveal a shower room. Like the previous space, it didn’t offer any privacy. There was soap, shampoo, razors, and towels lined up on a shelf. Finding bottles of shampoo and conditioner, I started some water at the far end of the room. As soon as I stepped under the spray, my skin burned. I hopped away from the liquid, examining my arm.
The skin shone red, and I turned over my dry arm finding it sunburned too. I’d never been sunburned.
“The water contains a mild antiseptic. If your skin is sunburned, there may be some discomfort.” Covering my body with an arm and a wash cloth, I looked to the ceiling to see a camera. Freaked out by being watched, I inched back under the stream, washing and rinsing off, and then shampooed my hair. Grateful Mom was there to lead Nave through the process, I took a few extra minutes to condition my hair and shave my legs. Stopping the water, I patted my skin with a towel, smoothed lotion over my body, and wrapped the towel around myself. After using the toothbrush and toothpaste at the sink, I followed the arrows to the next room.
The walls were lined with shelves of clothing wrapped in plastic, and I looked through them, finding underclothes, pants, a shirt, and socks in my size. There was no conversation save the random “here” or “let me help you” from a mom to a child, and I wondered if everyone felt as disoriented as I did.
Once we were dressed, the door on the far side of the room opened. We walked through it, finding Troy and Jack standing in a hallway lined with doors. The door behind us sealed shut.
“Each person should choose a room and sit on the bench inside. Moms with young children may share a room.”
I chose the door next to the one Troy entered. Inside, there was a bench, toilet, and sink. Directions for leaving a urine sample were posted above the sink, and I followed the instructions. As soon as I’d stashed the sample in the small cavity in the wall and washed my hands, the door to my room opened.
A person dressed in full containment gear—hood, mask, gloves, booties, and mobile breathing unit—entered. The woman held up a syringe and vial. “I need to take a blood sample.”
I sat on the bench and held out my arm. She doused it with alcohol and injected the needle, taking three vials of blood. I wondered if Troy had lost his cool and hit anyone yet. I guessed not based on the silence, and I wondered if the walls were soundproof. Unsure why I wasn’t littering the woman with questions, I thanked her. She bowed to me and left the room.
Pulling my jacket around me, I sat legs crossed under me on the bench. Every surface in the room was white, and I wondered how and where they got funds for the facility. Wouldn’t it be dangerous to house the community on an old base? Wouldn’t the government be watching them?
In a few minutes there was another announcement. “Sample processing takes about an hour. After that time, you’ll be fed.”
My stomach gurgled at the thought of food. Glancing around, I wondered if I was being put through a mental test. Was it necessary to keep us secluded? I padded to the door and tried to open it. It didn’t budge. I considered tapping on the wall shared by Troy’s room but decided against it. I could sit in a quiet, empty room for an hour alone, right?
My mind raced with questions about the facility and community of people we would be joining. But exhaustion soon set in, and I lay down on the bench, knees drawn into my chest so I would fit. The door opening surprised me, and I jumped to my feet.
We filed out of our rooms, down the hall, and into yet another white room. A man in a bio suit approached us from the far wall.
“Welcome,” he said, smiling.
I exhaled the breath I’d been holding. “We apologize for any discomfort, but you can probably understand the necessity. Unfortunately, we have a positive sample for a member of your party.” Scanning the room, I realized Mom and Nave were missing. My pulse doubled.
“What—” Troy got out before the speaker’s hand went up.
>
“That means that the subject needs to be isolated, and the rest of you will be held here for seven days. After that period, if there are no more positives, you’ll be transported to the community.”
“Wait? This isn’t the community?” Troy demanded.
“No. You can imagine that we can’t risk contaminating the whole population.”
My adrenaline finally kicked in. “Who is the positive? And what does that mean?”
“It means the person may be a carrier for or infected with the virus.”
“Where are Nave and my mom?”
“Nave tested positive, and your mother elected to stay in isolation with her.”
“I want to see them.”
“You will be allowed to talk over a speaker and view them through glass after dinner. Everyone will be housed in the barracks for the remainder of your stay here.”
“Can you even tell us where we are going? Where the community is?” Troy interrupted.
“Not at this time. If you are assimilated, then you will be briefed.”
He motioned to a door on the other wall. Since you are the largest group we’ve taken in, it will be tight. There are blankets on the beds. Dinner will be served in this room in half an hour.” He spun and walked across the room and out the door he’d entered from.
We walked silently into the barrack when the door opened. Wanting to be alone, I headed straight for the far wall and hoisted myself up to the top bunk. Crossing my legs over each other, I placed my palms on my knees and took a deep breath.
Not thirty seconds later, I heard Troy’s voice. “Walker. Mind if I take the bunk below you?”
When I opened my eyes, his face was a foot from mine. The scent of shampoo rose to my nose, and I scanned his tan, muscled arms folded beside of my leg. “I haven’t hit anyone yet. You proud?” His grin reached from ear to ear. “I gotta get away from all these kids, though. I can take this bunk, right?” He stepped back and pointed to the mattress below me.