to squeeze her pinky, and I feel the warmth of
her skin on my palm.
I watch, and I wait, like everyone
else. The baby drinks from Ellery’s finger, and I feel a fullness in my
stomach. I want to tell her to stop, that it’s too peculiar, and when I can pry
my eyes away from the crib, Ellery appears as the woman I’ve always known. The
pink is gone from her pale, wrinkled skin and her hair is white and fluffy. She
looks drained. Empty.
The baby stops crying, makes a
subtle noise of contentment that I can barely hear, and then falls asleep
again.
“It’s done,” Ellery croaks in her
familiar voice.
Mother cries softly. Father puts an
arm around her shoulder. My grandparents hug each other from the side. They’re
beaming. They’re proud.
“What did you do to me?”
She strains and struggles to move
her frail body around so she can face me, looking up like her neck is stiff and
nailed to her shoulders. “I have given you the greatest gift. On the morning of
your fifteenth year, you will become…become…become…”
Her words trail off in hollow
repetition, and I never get to hear the rest of her sentence. What will I
become? I feel hands on my shoulders—real hands—and they’re shaking me, not
roughly but enough to wake me from my dream.
I open my eyes halfway, groggy and
frustrated that I was pulled from Ellery’s words of revelation. It’s not quite
dark, maybe an hour or so before sunrise, but it takes me a moment to remember
where I am. I smell leaves and rain—the ever-pouring rain—and figure out that
I’m somewhere in the forest.
Kneeling above me, Finn shakes my
shoulders again, “Caroline? Wake up.”
I nudge him away and sit up, rubbing
the sleep from my eyes. I’m tired, still, because a couple hours of rest wasn’t
enough.
We ran and ran through the woods all
day and well into the night, putting miles between us and the DAV vanguard. We
ran until our lungs ached and our legs gave out from exhaustion. We passed a
number of families from my encampment and told them to hurry, to keep going,
but they were weak—unused to the exertion over unfamiliar terrain as they
carried children on their backs and trudged up hillsides.
They had cowered at the sight of the
Republicons with me but begged to come with us for protection. It was hard to
say no—difficult decisions are never easy—because they would surely slow us
down, and at times, I felt like I had put them in the DAV’s slavery chains
myself.
James and his followers kept up
easily, and it was me who eventually gave out and ordered the time to rest.
And now, here we are, on a new
morning, but dawn does not bring fresh hope.
Finn says, “Marla thinks she saw a
few DAV soldiers a couple of miles back. They must be sending runners ahead of
the vanguard.”
The thought of immediate danger
wakes me up fully, and I climb out from underneath the layer of limbs and leaves
I’d erected to protect myself from the rain. “And you’re just now waking me
up?”
“She got back a couple of minutes
ago.”
“Are the others ready?”
“Most of them. Rawley’s not here
yet.”
Before we slept, I’d asked for
volunteers to stay on watch. Four Republicons raised their hands. It was
unexpected, but appreciated.
Marla went north, back toward the
advancing army. Little Blake went east, Big Blake went west, and Rawley went
south.
I tell Finn, “We have to go. We’ll
find him on the way.”
“James won’t go without him.”
“Then we go without them ,
understood?”
Finn studies me, chews his bottom
lip and opens his mouth to speak, but stops. He knows I won’t change my mind.
We find the rest congregating
underneath the limbs of a tall pine tree, out of the rain. Every set of eyes is
on me, waiting. I had told James that I was in charge, yet it’s an awkward
feeling having them be so dependent on what I say next. If they want their
reward, so be it. “No Rawley?” I ask.
James shakes his head.
“We can’t wait on him, not
her skin on my palm.
I watch, and I wait, like everyone
else. The baby drinks from Ellery’s finger, and I feel a fullness in my
stomach. I want to tell her to stop, that it’s too peculiar, and when I can pry
my eyes away from the crib, Ellery appears as the woman I’ve always known. The
pink is gone from her pale, wrinkled skin and her hair is white and fluffy. She
looks drained. Empty.
The baby stops crying, makes a
subtle noise of contentment that I can barely hear, and then falls asleep
again.
“It’s done,” Ellery croaks in her
familiar voice.
Mother cries softly. Father puts an
arm around her shoulder. My grandparents hug each other from the side. They’re
beaming. They’re proud.
“What did you do to me?”
She strains and struggles to move
her frail body around so she can face me, looking up like her neck is stiff and
nailed to her shoulders. “I have given you the greatest gift. On the morning of
your fifteenth year, you will become…become…become…”
Her words trail off in hollow
repetition, and I never get to hear the rest of her sentence. What will I
become? I feel hands on my shoulders—real hands—and they’re shaking me, not
roughly but enough to wake me from my dream.
I open my eyes halfway, groggy and
frustrated that I was pulled from Ellery’s words of revelation. It’s not quite
dark, maybe an hour or so before sunrise, but it takes me a moment to remember
where I am. I smell leaves and rain—the ever-pouring rain—and figure out that
I’m somewhere in the forest.
Kneeling above me, Finn shakes my
shoulders again, “Caroline? Wake up.”
I nudge him away and sit up, rubbing
the sleep from my eyes. I’m tired, still, because a couple hours of rest wasn’t
enough.
We ran and ran through the woods all
day and well into the night, putting miles between us and the DAV vanguard. We
ran until our lungs ached and our legs gave out from exhaustion. We passed a
number of families from my encampment and told them to hurry, to keep going,
but they were weak—unused to the exertion over unfamiliar terrain as they
carried children on their backs and trudged up hillsides.
They had cowered at the sight of the
Republicons with me but begged to come with us for protection. It was hard to
say no—difficult decisions are never easy—because they would surely slow us
down, and at times, I felt like I had put them in the DAV’s slavery chains
myself.
James and his followers kept up
easily, and it was me who eventually gave out and ordered the time to rest.
And now, here we are, on a new
morning, but dawn does not bring fresh hope.
Finn says, “Marla thinks she saw a
few DAV soldiers a couple of miles back. They must be sending runners ahead of
the vanguard.”
The thought of immediate danger
wakes me up fully, and I climb out from underneath the layer of limbs and leaves
I’d erected to protect myself from the rain. “And you’re just now waking me
up?”
“She got back a couple of minutes
ago.”
“Are the others ready?”
“Most of them. Rawley’s not here
yet.”
Before we slept, I’d asked for
volunteers to stay on watch. Four Republicons raised their hands. It was
unexpected, but appreciated.
Marla went north, back toward the
advancing army. Little Blake went east, Big Blake went west, and Rawley went
south.
I tell Finn, “We have to go. We’ll
find him on the way.”
“James won’t go without him.”
“Then we go without them ,
understood?”
Finn studies me, chews his bottom
lip and opens his mouth to speak, but stops. He knows I won’t change my mind.
We find the rest congregating
underneath the limbs of a tall pine tree, out of the rain. Every set of eyes is
on me, waiting. I had told James that I was in charge, yet it’s an awkward
feeling having them be so dependent on what I say next. If they want their
reward, so be it. “No Rawley?” I ask.
James shakes his head.
“We can’t wait on him, not
Similar Books
