by Anthology
I bit my cheek to fight tears. “Sure.”
“Sweet.” He ducked under my bunk. “These mattresses aren’t bad.” In a second, his face appeared again. “Hey, you aren’t worried about your sister, are you? She’s going to be fine. I’m sure it’s nothing. Those tests get false positives all the time.” He tapped a finger on my knee. “Hey, nice yoga pose. What do you think we’re getting for dinner? I hope steak. Probably some cleanse diet thing, though.” His shoulders shuddered.
I stared at him. It was the most he’d said to me in thirty-six hours.
“My mom does those like four times a year. Gross, just gross. You know I do yoga. We could work out together,” he continued.
I caught Lacey’s approach out of the corner of my eye. “Troy, don’t harass Jema.”
He spun to face her. “She’s not a talker.” He pointed at me. “I’ll fix her, though.”
“She might not want to be fixed.” She started to sit on the bed next to his.
“No.” He pulled her up. “Weird mom, go sleep over there.” His finger pointed across the room.
She patted his cheek with her hand. “I love you too, son.”
He turned back to me. “Come down here. We’re doing yoga.” He pulled my hand.
After his oration, I figured he wasn’t going away. “Fine.” I spun around and lowered myself to the floor.
He shed his socks, and I followed suit. I copied his stretches and poses, and when they called us for dinner, I felt sane again.
We were told to enter the room and be seated via the speaker. A large table was set with plates and silverware in front of each chair. Dishes holding corn, carrots, potatoes, meats, and oranges were placed between the place settings.
“Whoa, this is great,” Troy said, reaching the table.
I hadn’t expected such an elaborate spread. When Dad talked about a camp, I’d pictured something much more crude. I wondered if the cave community was like this. While I was eating, I couldn’t help think about Nave and Mom and how they must be feeling. I hoped Nave wasn’t too upset. Mom was good with Nave, always able to calm her, I reminded myself. They’d be okay. Nave would be fine.
It was late by the time we finished the meal, and I looked out the window to the setting sun. Over the intercom, we were given information about the next seven days at the facility. We were instructed to only be outside during set times in daylight and after it became completely dark. Scanning the room, I realized we were probably locked in. I didn’t like it, not one little bit.
“That guy—” Troy pointed at the speaker “—and the navigation guy make two guys I want to pummel,” Troy whispered in my ear. “I am out of here at nightfall.” My breath caught in my throat, and I turned to look at him, thinking he was leaving. My face must have conveyed my fear.
“I’m not leaving for good. Just going exploring. You in?”
“Definitely.”
We watched out the window as it got dark, playing with the cards they’d left for us. The mothers got their children ready for bed and tucked them in.
“I think we’re clear.” Troy stood.
I had to admit he was braver than I was. If it’d been left up to me, I would’ve stayed on my bed. In the next room, we hesitated, unsure of how to get out. Trying all the doors, we found them locked.
“You said we could go out when it got dark,” Troy cupped his hands towards the speaker on the wall and yelled.
“You’re right. You may want shoes and flashlights. There are a lot of snakes.” The voice projected from the speaker.
“Got it. Give us the gear.” Troy’s hands formed fists at his side.
“Room two,” the voice said.
A light flashed a number two above one of the doors. We walked to it and went in. It made a clicking sound behind us, and when I tried the door, it had locked.
“Wonderful.” Troy launched his fist into the air.
We were in the supply room again and grabbed shoes, headlamps, and flashlights. Troy fitted a headlamp on my forehead. “Sexy.”
I pushed him away, but he grabbed my hand and pulled me into him. Leaning in, he whispered, “I have a plan. Follow my lead and try to act in love.” The hot air from his breath made me shiver, but I nodded and forced a smile.
Opening the door to the outside, we walked across the parking lot to the truck. Halfway there, he grabbed my hand and said in a low voice, “I want to get our weapons without them knowing. If we play like we’re making out, they’ll never suspect anything.”
I swallowed hard. Just the thought of kissing Troy Masterson had my pulse doubling its already high rate. He jiggled my hand as we reached the truck, and I looked up at his face.
“You’re a good kisser, right?”
“Let’s just do this.” I faked a punch to his gut, deflecting his question.
He spun around, climbed into the cab, and helped me up. As we faced each other, he inched closer. “I’m going to take off my shirt so it looks like we’re, you know, hot for each other.”
He crossed his arms and gripped his shirt, pulling it over his head. I was stuck staring at his highly muscled bare chest, the smell of soap from his shower still fresh on his skin. “Nice abs, right?” He laughed as he threw his shirt on the floor.
“How much do you work out?”
“Every day. I’m the youngest in my year. Got to be bigger, better, faster, stronger, smarter.”
“Well, I think you’ve achieved that.”
“I don’t know about the smarter part.”
“You came up with this plan, right?”
“I guess.” His face was inches from mine. “You’re going to have to lie down.”
“Okay.” I swallowed hard and lay back in the seat. He moved in my direction but stopped an inch from me. Turning his body, he rolled to the floor of the cab.
“See? Perfect.” He stuck his arm under the driver’s seat, and I tried to find my knife under the passenger’s side. “Still here.” He held up the small pistol.
“Mine, too.”
“Phones.” He took out the bag holding our electronics and ID tags.”
“Troy, I don’t think—”
“Receive only mode, right?”
“I guess. I’m not chancing it.”
“Your choice.” He slipped the device in his pocket and scanned the cab. “Okay, anything else? I’m cramped down here, so you’re going to have to be skinny on that seat.”
I lay straight out, shoulder blades pressed to the back of the seats. He lay next to me, our noses nearly touching.
“Well, this is cozy.”
“You aren’t going to turn on your phone.”
“Later, enough risks for one night, don’t you think?”
“Yes.”
His eyes scanned the cab. “So, what was with the diversion before?”
“What diversion?”
“The kiss question.”
“I wasn’t diverting?”
“You totally were.” He tapped his temple.
“I’m fifteen and five-ten. I think boys my age are scared of me.”
He held up a finger. “Almost sixteen. I can’t believe boys my age aren’t hitting on you.”
“I keep a low profile.”
“So, you got no skills. Not even from drama club or something?”
I bit my lip.
He glared at me. “Well, let’s hope you don’t need to fake a kiss then.”
Wonderful, I thought, even Troy Masterson thinks I’m a prude. Being conservative at fifteen, or nearly sixteen, I guessed, was a good thing. Not that it mattered. I didn’t think I’d be running into a high population of teenage boys in the near future. Since most guys my age acted so weird, relationships with them seemed ridiculous. Ava and my other friends were good at conversing with guys no matter the topic, but I couldn’t fake being interested.
Changing the subject seemed like a good plan. “I’m sorry Bridget had to move.”
“You knew her?”
“Sort
of. My friend Ava was kind of tight with her on the cheerleading squad. I talked to her a couple of times.”
“Oh, well. Thanks, I guess. Not that it matters now.” He slid his phone out of his pocket and shook it. “The one-hour drive was challenging, and now we have a thirty-seven-hour trek.” He pushed up on his elbow. “Okay, I think we’re clear. What do you want to do now? I could use a run.”
My nose wriggled up automatically. “I hate running.”
“You see a dance floor here? You need to stay in shape. We have to acclimate to this dry climate. You’re not giving up now that we got here, are you?” He sat up and replaced his shirt.
“No. I’d just prefer yoga, or jumping rope, swimming, anything but running. Maybe a bike ride.” I heaved the door open and jumped down from the cab.
He looked at his shoes, and I inspected mine. They weren’t boots or athletic shoes but a cross between the two. “You make do with what you’ve got, right?”
“I guess.”
He started stretching, and I copied his exercises. “We’ll go slow.” You should turn on your lamp. He reached up and pushed the button.
“What about you?”
“I’m the pretty one. Headlamps aren’t a good look for me.”
“Seriously?”
“Hey, comic relief.”
The knife was uncomfortable in my vest, and I slid it into the pocket next to my thigh. “We don’t have a timer or anything.”
“Remember the mile markers?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, two miles.” He started to jog away, and I followed, praying we didn’t run across any snakes.
My lungs burned from the dry air, but the night was cool. I pushed myself to keep pace with him two miles out and two miles back. I doubled over when we reached the hangar door. “You must think I am so wimpy.”
“You could beat me on a bike any day.”
I opened the door for him. “I don’t see any water.”
We heard an announcement as we entered. “Walker and Masterson, proceed to the appropriate shower rooms.”
“This is getting old,” he whispered.
In the bathing area, I shed my clothes, making sure to keep them near me so I could retrieve the knife. I soaped and rinsed, glad I hadn’t been sweating so my hair didn’t need a new wash. From the shelves, I chose a couple of shirts and camo pants for the night and next day. Tucking my knife in my pocket as I sat on the bench, I pulled on some soft socks.
When I exited, Troy had his arms filled too. “Might as well take advantage, right?”
“That’s what I thought.”
He leaned close to me. “Don’t forget our act.” A huge smile spread across his face, and I answered it with mine.
Bumping shoulders as we tiptoed to the far side of the barrack, Troy stopped in front of our bunk. “Mom?”
“Where have you been?” she asked in a loud whisper.
“We went out for a run.”
She stood in front of us. “That better be all, you two.” Her finger traced between us. “We can’t have any trouble, okay?”
“Course not, Mom.” He wrapped an arm around her. “What would we do?”
“I know you, Troy, remember? You like to be in control. You need to go with the flow here.”
“Mom, I’m good. I got it.” He spun her around so she stood in the middle space.
“Okay, well, get some sleep. I’m not sure what’s happening tomorrow, but I’m beat.”
“Sure. Sorry we worried you,” Troy said, backing to his bunk.
I watched her retreat and set my things on my bed, starting to climb up. “Hey,” Troy whispered, tugging at my wrist.
“Yeah?”
“Come here.” He grasped my hand.
“What?” I stood face to face with him, and he winked at me. Then his lips were on mine. They were soft and warm, and I reacted without thinking, leaning into him. When he pulled away, my face burned. I had just kissed Troy Masterson, Bridget’s sort-of boyfriend. Like really kissed him! I looked into his dark eyes.
He blinked. “Well, okay, good night.”
“Right.” I spun around and hoisted myself up to my bunk.
I STARED AT her as she climbed onto her mattress. For not having kissed someone before, she produced a very solid performance. My mouth and arms tingled with the absence of her touch. Why had I done that?
Left with the feeling of her soft lips imprinted on mine, all I could smell was her skin. Unbuckling my pants, I stowed them on the mattress and slid under the blanket. Finding my pistol and phone, I tucked those under my pillow, hoping Jema remembered hers. Stop thinking of her, I told myself. She’d be fine. Nerves twitching, I lay there willing my heart rate to even out.
It took a while, but sleep came and I woke to a bright, quiet room. Feeling for the gun and phone, I got up and checked to see if Jema were still asleep. Not finding her, I slipped on my pants and secured the pistol and phone in my pockets.
Crossing into the restroom, then out into the great room, I found our group. Some sat around the table eating, others read books or played games. Seeing a weight system in the corner, my mood brightened. Scanning back across the faces, I realized Jema was missing.
I jogged over to Mom. “Where’s Jema?”
“Well, good morning, loving son. I am so impressed with your concern for your mother.”
“I’m not kidding, Mom.”
“She’s just visiting her sister and mom.”
“Okay.” I exhaled and sat down in the chair next to her.
“The food is good. Have some.” She passed a plate of fruit and breads to me.
“Sure.” I picked up what looked to be a corn fritter.
“Only goat’s milk and chicken.” She passed me a dish holding what resembled sausage and gravy. “It’s not so bad.”
Remembering what I’d told Jema about staying strong, I piled a serving on my plate.
Mom poured some orange juice for me and ruffled my hair. “You sleep okay?”
I ducked away from her. “Sure.”
“Is that all you got for your mom?”
“You know I’m not a morning person.”
As I shoveled food into my mouth, Jema entered from the far side. I fought watching her. She was fine. I didn’t need to talk to her. She stood just inside the door, wide-eyed until she found me. Then she rolled her eyes and walked in the opposite direction, sitting down with a mom attempting to entertain three kids.
Why had she done that? Ignored me on purpose. You don’t know why she rolled her eyes, I told myself. It’s not like you made last night weird or anything, idiot. I hung my head and stared at the food.
As I finished, an alarm sounded, and they announced a thirty-seven minute outside recreation time scheduled for ten. I glanced at the clock, realizing I’d slept past nine. Why didn’t I feel rested? Movement will help, I told myself.
I went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and then rounded back to my bunk to get shoes. Jema sat on the floor, sliding on her boots. Keep it normal, I told myself as I approached her. It was an act, nothing more.
“Hi.”
She jumped. “Oh, hi. How are you? Did you sleep well?”
“Yeah. How is your sister?”
“Her tests are the same.” Her eyes cut to the floor.
“Oh, sorry.”
“Yeah, I’ll catch you outside.” She pointed at the door.
WHEN THE ALARM sounded, they supplied us with sunglasses and sunscreen and gave warnings about wildlife and straying too far. They asked Jema and me to unload the rest of the items from the truck. I guessed they still didn’t want contact with us. The kids ran out the door like they’d never seen sunshine before.
“So, your sister is the same?” I asked Jema as we climbed onto the cargo bed of the truck.
“Yeah. She tested positive for the strain again this morning. But the titer is still at carrier level, same as yesterday, and still no symptoms.”
“Titer?”
; “Sorry, amount of virus in her blood.”
“So, what now?”
“They keep testing her and us. I have no clue.”
“This sucks.” I heaved the first box down to her when she jumped to the ground. After unloading all the boxes, we piled them in the middle of the decontamination room as instructed.
Checking the truck cab, we removed the phones and tags from under the seat. “What are you going to say about yours being missing?”
“My dad took it from me before we left. My mom’s isn’t here either. You should take yours and your mom’s That way it looks congruent.”
“Good plan.” She smiled at me for the first time since the previous night and stuffed the phones in her pockets.
I hadn’t seen X-ray equipment or heat-sensors, and no one had confiscated our weapons yet, so I felt pretty safe with the strategy. Maybe they were just scared of touching anything we had. Of course, they could’ve put on those bio suits and swiped whatever they wanted from us. Except I had a gun.
“What are you doing now?” I asked her as we exited the trailer.
“Exploring. I’ve never been in a desert before.”
“That’s because there’s nothing here. I’m thinking it looks the same night and day. I’m going to check my phone.” I pointed back inside.
“Well everyone can’t have awesome night vision like you.” She headed towards the sandy field abutting the tarmac.
In the truck, I switched my phone to receive only and turned on the power. It buzzed time after time with receipt of messages, and I scrolled back to Bridget’s.
07:03: GOOD MORNING. TEXT ME AFTER FOOTBALL.
12:19: HEY. HOPE YOU ARE HAVING A GOOD DAY. TEXT ME.
15:17: NOW I’M WORRIED. SOMETHING GOING ON? TEXT ME.
16:02: TROY, YOU OKAY? CALL ME.
17:11: HEY TROY. I WANTED TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT THIS, BUT NOW YOU’RE NOT ANSWERING MY TEXTS. HOPEFULLY RUMORS DON’T FLY BETWEEN BASES THAT FAST. NOTHING HAPPENED. I WAS JUST TALKING TO THIS GUY. HE WAS REALLY NICE AND ASKED ME OUT. I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO. I STILL LIKE YOU BUT…