Sophie Littlefield - Rebirth

“Anyway, Joe’s trick shut the guy up long enough for me to get him restrained.” Dor frowned at his blade and slipped it back into his pocket. “I had to use that a little to convince him that I really wanted to hear what he had to say. Turns out he didn’t care all that much about revealing where his friend was, after I…showed him I was serious.”

Dor dug in his pack and came up with two more guns. The ones from Ralston and Jimbo. “And now we have these, too. Which one do you want?”

She chose the smaller one, a small black semiauto. It wasn’t so different from the one Smoke had insisted she practice with on several occasions. “I don’t know how much good I’ll be. With, you know, carrying her.”

“Hopefully you won’t have to carry her for long. Are you…all right to walk?”

For a moment Cass didn’t understand the question, and then she realized that Dor was carefully not looking at her, at her body; he focused on a place over her shoulder, but his face was lined and sorrowful, a dozen years older than he’d looked even that morning.

He’d spoken to the guard. He knew what she’d traded.

Cass’s face flamed. “I’m fine.”

“I’d just leave you here, it should be relatively safe now that they’re down…but I don’t know when shift change is, and it’s already nearly dawn. And besides, the other guy’s going to be waking up in an hour or two.”

“He’s not dead?”

“No. Like I said, it was never my intention to kill when I came down here. I brought some darts, the blade. I had hoped it might be enough…that was probably naïve.”

“How many darts do you have left?”

“Three.” He grimaced. “And there’s a problem with them, you have to be close enough to jam them in by hand, because I couldn’t figure out a way to bring a tranq gun in here. I nailed the guy in there because I was practically on top of him when I came around the corner. And I had it in my hand. Otherwise…”

“So you just left him there?”

“Not…without a souvenir. Something to make sure he doesn’t do this again, to some other woman.”

“What…”

Dor made a slicing motion. “Assuming he doesn’t bleed out, or die of infection, he’s gonna be pretty damn tender for a while.”

Cass felt no pity. Despite the fact that she had given herself away to get here, down to Smoke’s prison, there was still a difference between what she had given Ralston in trade and what Jimbo meant to take from her without compunction.

“What did you find out about Sammi?”

Dor’s face went dangerously blank. “She’s in a dorm, where all the girls her age live. It’s not too far from here, maybe half a mile.”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing. They just…the girls live together, the young women. There’s about forty of them and four guards on duty at night. I made him tell me. Two more come on at six in the morning, so we need to move fast.”

“How are we going to find out which room she’s in?”

“Leave that part to me,” Dor said. “But listen, here’s the problem. I can’t carry Smoke that far. He’ll slow us down too much.”

“I’m not leaving him,” Cass said quickly. “I can’t leave him.”

“Cass…” Dor’s face was shadowed with anxiety and something else, some dark thing. “Look at him. He’s lost a lot of blood from his shoulder. He’s been beaten, probably tortured. There’s a good chance he’s bleeding internally. There’s no guarantee he’s going to make it. Is it worth the risk…?”

“You can go without me,” Cass said. “I know you need to go to Sammi. I understand. But I can’t. If they find me and Ruthie…I can convince them I’m innocent. I’ll tell them you shot them when you found us together, that you went back to, I don’t know…”

It was all tangled in her mind, the men who had been killed tonight, the trail of violence and cruelty that had brought them here. “I don’t know, I’ll figure out something. I’m an outlier, Dor, they need me. I have something valuable to trade with them.”

His eyes narrowed with anger. “ No . You can’t stay here. You don’t know what they mean to do with you.”

“I know they mean to keep me hostage, okay? And I know there’s no guarantee they’ll ever find the vaccine, and I could spend the rest of my life being poked and studied for nothing-but is that so bad? I’ll be with Ruthie, and we’ll be safe, and-”

“Cass!”

There was something so dangerous and fierce in his voice that Cass shut up and listened.

“They’re not making a vaccine. They’re not studying outliers. They’re using them… harvesting them. For breeding.”

For a moment Cass didn’t understand.

Harvesting…

And then she put it together.

The young girls, in the dorm.

The woman, with her legs in stirrups.

“They’ve made a baby farm,” she whispered.

“They mean to populate this entire place with outliers,” Dor said. “They’re using outliers to make embryos, and sterilizing everyone else.”

“They can’t-I don’t know, make a vaccine, like Evangeline said?”

Dor shrugged. “Sure, maybe-if they had all the time in the world, equipment, the best scientists. But selective breeding-that’s easy to do-hell, look at history.”

“But who would-I mean, there aren’t enough outliers…”

“All they need is donor eggs and sperm-it doesn’t take all that many outliers to produce those. They create the embryos, then use the youngest, healthiest girls to incubate them. The babies get taken away to be raised by the Rebuilder leaders, and the girls keep on breed-”

“Oh, God…”

“And they took Sammi there. Cass…she’s only fourteen.”

In her arms, Ruthie stirred, her body soft and warm against hers. Her baby, her life. She would never have brought Ruthie into this world if she knew what it was going to become. And now the Rebuilders had made it worse. They meant to doctor up embryos in a lab and grow them inside little girls-prisoners-only to rip them away before they could even hold the babies they’d given life to.

A memory flashed of the day Ruthie was born. It had been an easy labor, made all the easier because Ruthie had been early and small. In the midst of her labor pains Cass had sobbed because she believed that if only she hadn’t been drinking before she knew she was pregnant, in those early weeks, she could have carried Ruthie to term. In her third trimester she had begun dreaming that her baby was born dead, a shriveled and wounded thing, doomed by her demons.

The doctor on duty had been kind enough; one of the nurses wiped the tears from her face with a cool cloth. But it wasn’t until Ruthie had been placed, pink and wriggling and healthy, on her chest that Cass finally believed. And in that moment everything changed.

She’d been thinking of giving her baby up for adoption, had met with the social workers already and begun the paperwork. She knew she wasn’t ready, or worthy. But when Ruthie lay in her arms and Cass heard her cry for the first time, she knew that everything good and worthy in her life would, until the day she died, revolve around this tiny person. That redemption was possible. That she could be someone who mattered. And that God had given her this chance and she must not squander it.

Her first words to Ruthie, whispered so softly that the doctors and nurses did not hear, that no one save her baby girl would ever hear, were, “You’re mine, and I am yours.”

Here in Colima, they were taking newborns from girls’ bodies, leave them hurting and bereft, only to impregnate them again and again. She thought of Sammi, that beautiful girl, the dusting of freckles on her nose, her glossy ponytail. Cass would offer her own body, give away her own eggs, if it would save even a single one of the girls from such a fate-but as long as the Rebuilders survived, all would be in danger.