The Renegade

by Amy Dunne

  “Just smile your sweet smile, and accept whatever he says. Are you listening to me?” His body was overbearing, making her feel useless, small, and pathetic. Using his thumb, he cracked the swollen knuckles on his right hand, showing no sign of pain or discomfort. “You do as you’re told, Evelyn. That’s the only way this is going to end. If you fight it, people are going to get hurt and you’ll be responsible. Can you live with that?”

  Evelyn fought against the tears. The potent mixture of humiliation and anger ignited her fiery temper. With a whoosh, she descended into the red fog. “Get your hand off me. I’m not scared of you. Not in the slightest.”

  “You should be,” he said in a hiss. “Of me. Of him. But more than anything, you should be very scared of the future. Do as you’re told and accept it graciously. Understand? Has that gotten through?” His finger tapped her right temple with the lightest of touches.

  She snapped her face away from his touch. “Fuck you.” She pulled her arm free and stormed past him. Only a few feet from the main doors, she started running. Without looking back, she tore one of the doors open and rushed inside. She’d rather face Elijah than spend another second near David.

  *

  “You look beautiful,” Elijah said, as he held the door open for her.

  “Thanks,” Evelyn said, her skin crawling from his gaze. She wasn’t the only one who was dressed to the nines. Elijah was dressed in a black tuxedo with a white shirt. His wooden crucifix hung around his neck and looked a bit silly. No doubt in his head he saw himself as a religious James Bond lookalike. It made the situation all the more absurd. She walked further into the room and heard the door slam behind her, followed by a click. Before she could turn around to see what he was up to, she heard his voice whisper into her ear.

  “Why aren’t you wearing the shoes I sent?” he asked.

  She turned and bumped into him. Taking two steps backward to give space, she noted his dark expression. “They didn’t fit.” He continued to stare at her boots.

  Shit! Maybe I should’ve just worn them.

  “That’s not possible. I made sure they were your size.” Two pink spots coloured his cheeks as he clenched his jaws.

  “Women’s shoe sizes are an enigma. I’ve struggled finding shoes that fit all my life. If they’re foreign designers, it’s even worse.” She tried to think of something to say to pacify him. “You…look very dapper.” It seemed to work. His fixed smile returned as he puffed out his chest and brushed at some nonexistent fluff.

  “Please,” he said, indicating the set table. The wooden table was long and seated over twelve. Only a small part of it was covered with a white tablecloth. It created an intimate setting for two. The sources of light were the raging fire and many scattered candles. She wasn’t sure if this was to set the ambience Elijah wanted, or simply because the generator which sourced the electricity for his personal chambers didn’t have enough juice to light the hall.

  He stood behind one of the antique chairs and pulled it out from beneath the table, gesturing for her to sit.

  She sat and tried not to physically flinch at his proximity. She was still jittery from the confrontation with David. Elijah scooted her chair in a little and strode purposefully around the table to the seat opposite. He didn’t sit. Instead, he began opening a bottle of champagne.

  Evelyn made a conscious decision not to drink too much alcohol. She wanted her faculties to remain sharp for whatever lay ahead. The loud popping of the cork sounded like a gunshot and took her by surprise. She flinched.

  Elijah remained oblivious to her anxiety as he poured a generous measure in each crystal flute. As the hall was part of Elijah’s personal chambers, she’d never been inside it before. With a quick darting gaze she took in her surroundings. The space was huge and ornate. The large stone fireplace, pristinely white walls, and three unlit chandeliers complemented the wood panelling and flooring. In its heyday, this room probably hosted wonderful balls. She wasn’t sure if the eeriness that lurked in the shadows manifested from her fear or something supernatural.

  The table was set for the two of them with fine golden cutlery and delicate china dishes. The tantalizing aroma of food lingered in the air, and Evelyn felt betrayed when her stomach grumbled. It didn’t smell like the usual food they churned out in the mess hall.

  “Cheers,” Elijah said, reaching across the table to clink his glass against hers.

  “Cheers,” she said quietly, taking the tiniest of sips before placing her glass down. “I didn’t think alcohol was permitted inside the camp.”

  Elijah sat down opposite and smiled. “On special occasions, exceptions can be made. I made the rule so our community can avoid temptation into vices that destroyed the old world. Given in moderation, we can ensure our community isn’t tempted into addiction. You drank some wine during the three previous weddings, didn’t you?”

  “I suppose.” She didn’t like the way this was going. That Elijah considered this meal to be a special occasion only added to her confusion and sense of dread. Plus he’d once again proved himself to be a hypocrite. Champagne was in no way similar to communal wine, and how dare he have the audacity to spout off views about saving people from addiction, when he was clearly ruled by his own drug addiction?

  “When our Lord God’s son came to earth he turned water into wine. He also shared the wine in his chalice with his disciples. I assure you, he won’t begrudge us this. Especially not tonight.”

  Evelyn took another sip to wet her parched mouth and to cover the awkward silence. Something bad was coming. No doubt in her mind.

  “Shall we start our first course?” Elijah asked.

  Evelyn gave a weak nod.

  “Excellent. It’s leek and potato soup. Please, do the honours.” He looked at her expectantly while casually resting his interlinked fingers on the table.

  Chivalry was as dead as the old world and their old lives. Although it galled her and went against every fibre of her being, she reluctantly stood. She lifted the lid from the large central bowl, releasing clouds of rolling steam. The aroma and texture of the soup as she ladled it out surprised her. She knew immediately it was freshly made and the main ingredients hadn’t come out of a tin. She felt a stab of anger at the lavishness of the dish, followed by guilt that the other survivors wouldn’t be party to such cuisine.

  Since her arrival in the camp, she’d dined with the other survivors in the mess hall. With the exception of rare occasions when a few measly root vegetables or apples were delivered after a scouting expedition, the majority of their food came out of tins, packets, and the freezer. Most of the dishes were bland and Evelyn questioned the lack of nutritional value daily. Her concerns fell on deaf ears. It didn’t help that Claire was in charge of the kitchen and ruled it with a gnarly iron fist. Evelyn was fortunate to get occasional breaks from the tedium of daily domestic chores, thanks to being the only medic in camp. She also took time to try and teach the children, although this was a source of ongoing contention.

  She served the first bowl to Elijah and set the second on her placemat. She returned the lid and finally took her seat. The dress was awkward and the tightness of the waist cut into her stomach. It clearly wasn’t designed for sitting and eating.

  Elijah began scooping spoonfuls of soup and slurping them into his mouth. Evelyn tried to mask her disgust. He might look like a gentleman but he had no table manners to speak of. Under no circumstances would she ask permission to eat. She’d silently wait it out.

  After four more slurps, Elijah looked up at her. A puzzled expression flickered across his face. As the reason for her abstinence dawned, she saw the gleam in his eyes and the slight smirk that twitched the corner of his lips. “I realize this is different to what you’re used to. On this occasion you can eat with me.”

  Evelyn picked up her spoon and swallowed her scathing retort with the first mouthful of soup. Begrudgingly, she had to admit it was delicious.

  They ate in silence. She could feel Elijah’
s gaze on her, but she refused to meet it. When she finally did glance up, she noted he’d stopped eating. His bowl remained half full but he discarded it to one side. She decided to follow suit and try to put her plan into action. She’d never dream of escaping without Jamie, Joe, and Matilda, but even just leaving the confines of the camp for a few hours would be enough to rejuvenate her spirit. She was convinced if she could make Elijah accept that she wouldn’t abandon Jamie, maybe he’d let her go.

  She needed to find supplies, many of which were classed as contraband. The most vital and forbidden item was the contraceptive pill. Her reserve was worryingly low, and women like Tanya were relying on it. Even in this hellhole, she believed fervently that women had the right of ownership of their bodies. If they wanted to become pregnant, that was fine. But having pregnancy forced upon them, especially by sadistic brutes like Phil, was something she would fight against until the bitter end.

  If Elijah discovered her stash or that she was prescribing it in secret to a few of the women, her and Jamie’s lives would be thrown into jeopardy. It was treason and went directly against his great plan. She couldn’t refuse to help the women in her care. It was her moral obligation. Yet if she didn’t somehow source more tablets in the next few months, all of the women at Rapture’s Haven would be in dire straits. “I know this isn’t the ideal time to bring this up, but you said earlier that I could come to you with any concerns,” she said conversationally.

  “Go on,” he said, his tone laced with the slightest edge of irritation.

  “The medical supplies are nearly depleted.”

  “Give David a list of what you need, and on the next scouting expedition the men will search for them.”

  “Some of the medicine has different names and branding. It can be confusing for me, let alone someone without medical training. If I were to go on a scouting expedition, I would know exactly what we need—”

  “Evelyn,” Elijah said sternly, holding up a hand. “You know women aren’t permitted to leave the camp. It’s for your own safety.”

  “I understand. But if—”

  “I won’t risk your safety. Your place is here. You’re the only medic we have, I’ll never risk letting you leave the safety of our camp. I know you’re asking because you care, but it’s selfish to even suggest it. What if something happened to Jamie while you were away? Accidents happen all the time.” His statement lingered between them, the unspoken threat as clear as their crystal flutes. “Make the list. Give it to David.”

  Evelyn struggled to swallow. She despised his threat, but it was a stark reminder she needed to tread carefully, especially where Jamie was concerned. “May I put school supplies on the list too?”

  Elijah sat back in his chair and folded his arms. “We’ve had this discussion. Do you really want to have it again?”

  “I feel it’s important.”

  Sighing, Elijah studied her. “You have one minute. If you can convince me why school is so important, I’ll agree. If you fail, that’s the end of it. I never want to hear you mention it again.” He wiped his mouth on a linen serviette and dropped it onto the table. “Your sixty seconds start now.”

  “Three hours of schooling a day would benefit everyone—”

  “How?”

  “The children would be supervised by one person. At the moment they’ve no outlet for their curiosity and inquisitive natures. They’re always getting into trouble for being in the way. For those three hours of schooling, they wouldn’t be disturbing anyone. And in the afternoon they could still have work experience with the adults.”

  “It sounds like they need stern punishment. That’ll have them behaving,” Elijah said with a wan smile. “It’s not a very convincing argument. You’ve thirty seconds left. Don’t disappoint me.”

  “They need to learn and improve their numeracy and literacy skills. Without numeracy how will they know how to count, measure, or even tell the time? Without literacy how will they be able to read warnings, descriptions, and recipes? These are vital skills. Without them the—”

  “Time’s up,” he said, cutting her off. He took a slow drink from his glass, ensuring the silence built up in the wake of his decision. Evelyn waited anxiously to see if she’d said enough to convince him.

  “Numeracy and literacy could be useful. No other subjects, though. Our Lord God punished the old world because of our belief that our intelligence was on par with his. We must be humble in our quest for knowledge.”

  Evelyn took a sip from her glass, noting the champagne had grown flat.

  “They can have two hours of schooling a day with the exception of the Sabbath.”

  “Thank you.”

  “The only book they’ll read is the Bible.”

  Trying not to cringe, Evelyn tried to keep her tone casual. “It might be a little bit mature in content. Could we perhaps have at least one children’s book?” As soon as she stopped talking she noticed the change.

  Elijah drained the dregs of his champagne and with a heavy hand poured himself more. The white foamy bubbles erupted up to the glass rim and cascaded down the side. He licked the excess droplets from his fingers. Silently, he turned his attention back to Evelyn. His mood seemed to have taken a negative turn.

  She regretted asking about the book.

  “Have you only come here tonight to demand things of me?”

  Evelyn shook her head. “Of course not.”

  “Don’t you see everything I’ve done for the people of this camp?”

  “Ye—”

  “It’s never enough for you. Is it, Evelyn? All of my hard work means nothing. You don’t appreciate the sacrifices I’ve made.” He slammed his hand down hard on the table. Their glasses trembled and the dishes rattled. “All you do is criticise me. I’m starting to think you’re nothing but a spoilt bitch. You think yourself high and mighty, don’t you?” he asked. His eyes bore into her. “Perhaps you need knocking down a peg or two from that high pedestal you’ve put yourself on.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked for things,” Evelyn said in a jumble of words. Her heart raced. She dropped her gaze and hid her trembling hands beneath the table. She was worried for her safety. If he attacked her, no one would come to her rescue. She was alone and vulnerable. All she wanted was to go back to Jamie.

  “Tonight was meant to be special, a celebration. And you’ve ruined it.”

  Evelyn felt a chill cloak her body. She’d seen Elijah in varying emotive states but never like this. The alcohol wasn’t helping the situation, nor was the fact he was winding himself up into a frenzied anger.

  “Please forgive me?” she asked. Each word tasted foul as she forced it from her lips. She hated grovelling, but the situation was spiralling out of control. She was scared and would say anything to keep the peace. “I didn’t mean to offend you, and I certainly didn’t want to ruin this evening for you. The effort you’ve gone to is above and beyond anything I ever expected. I’m sorry if I’ve come across as ungrateful. The champagne has gone straight to my head. It’s loosened my lips and made me forget my manners. I’ve never been able to handle drink well.”

  She waited for his response, each second dragging by at a snail’s pace and only adding to her anxiety. Finally he spoke.

  “Would you like a glass of water?”

  “Yes, please.” She was relieved to hear his tone was softer.

  He presented her with a glass of water and simultaneously removed her flute with the remaining champagne. He poured the contents into his own glass and discarded the flute.

  “Shall I serve our main course?” she asked tentatively. The sooner they finished eating, the sooner she could escape back to Jamie.

  “Yeah.”

  The main course consisted of pasta, suspicious-looking grey meatballs, and a metallic-tasting tomato sauce. Evelyn’s appetite had disappeared after Elijah’s mood change but she praised the dish and then nibbled unenthusiastically at the pasta. She avoided the meat at all costs. The last thing she w
anted was a dodgy stomach to top off this hellish night.

  “I imagine you’re probably wondering why I went to all this effort and invited you here tonight,” Elijah said. He pushed his plate away and tried unsuccessfully to mask a belch.

  Evelyn assumed the question was rhetorical. His eyes were bloodshot. The champagne was definitely having an effect. His body language had changed; his shoulders were hunched and one leg danced up and down on the spot. An alcohol-induced flush had coloured his face throughout their meal, but now his cheeks were bright red. He looked uncertain of himself, nervous even. She found this more disturbing than his previous outburst.

  “Two nights ago our Lord God came and spoke to me again. He revealed his plans for the future and even showed me visions. His message was clear, and the urgency of his wishes? Well, I must admit they took me by surprise.” He drank from his glass and then blotted his hands on his trousers. “There’s going to be a joint wedding in three days’ time.”

  Evelyn couldn’t breathe for fear of screaming. She knew what was coming and yet remained powerless to stop it, like a rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle, paralysed with fear.

  “David is going to take Gemma for his wife.”

  A strangled gasp escaped her mouth, her own fate momentarily forgotten as disgust and anger boiled her blood in equal measures. “Gemma is a child!”

  “She’s young, but she’s a woman. I’ve had it on good authority that her body is physically ready for bearing children.”

  “What do you mean, ready?” Evelyn demanded.

  “Calm yourself,” he said sternly. “She bleeds every month. Her body has blossomed into womanhood and her duty, like all women, is to conceive life.”

  “Just because she menstruates doesn’t mean she’s physically, psychologically, or emotionally ready for pregnancy. She’s fifteen. She’s an innocent child. Legally—”

  “Legally? The laws of the old world mean nothing now. Her relationship with Ben was anything but innocent.”