Kristen Simmons - Article 5

I didn’t think twice about stepping onto Rebecca’s bed in my dirty shoes; I would have relished more in the action if I had. I propped the window open. It made the same click and rattle that I had heard earlier, when I had thought someone was breaking in, not breaking out.

From our room on the bottom floor it was almost too easy to slide out the little frame and swing my legs to the ground. So easy, in fact, I wondered why everyone hadn’t tried. Sudden doubt gave me pause—there had to be a reason the whole school hadn’t disappeared after curfew—but if Brock’s prized little Sister was out here, she had to know what she was doing.

I forced a slow, pained breath and continued. My skirt rode up around my hips, and the cold night bit into the skin at the tops of my thighs, but as soon as my feet hit the ground I was running.

The night was bright enough that I could partially see the way. I sprinted across a narrow lane and into the woods where I had seen Rebecca disappear. The hum of a power generator masked the crunch of dead leaves under my footsteps, both a blessing and a curse. No one could hear me, but I couldn’t hear them, either.

Though I worried about getting caught, my feet continued on. Rebecca had been here three years. She knew this system, this facility. She wouldn’t be attempting an escape unless she was positive it was a sure thing.

The deeper I dove into the woods, the darker it became, even under the starlight. I wondered where we were going. To a broken fence maybe. The long shadows blended with the night sky, leaving only highlights of bare branches and textured tree trunks. I walked with my hands in front of me, feeling my way forward. I was getting anxious, fearing I’d lost her. The generator was getting louder.

Finally, I heard voices. One male, the other so bubbly it couldn’t be anyone but Rebecca. I stopped dead in my tracks and ducked, hiding behind the broken tree trunk. I couldn’t make out what they were saying. As stealthily as possible, I scooted closer.

“I can’t believe Randolph smacked her,” I heard Rebecca say.

“Yeah. He liked it, too, the sick bastard.” The voice was familiar.

“Sean… what did you all do to her?”

“Brock said take her to the shack. Come on, you knew that was coming.”

My muscles hardened. They weren’t talking about me; they were talking about Rosa.

In my mind’s eye I saw the unmarked brick building beside the clinic. Was that the “shack”? Brock had said to take Rosa to “lower campus”; maybe that was what she’d meant. My memory conjured the metallic screech I’d heard when I’d found the clinic’s phone. Had that been Rosa’s scream?

My head was spinning. I still couldn’t place the other voice.

Rebecca was quiet for a moment. “I guess I did.”

“What, you feel sorry for her? Aw, don’t be sad, Becca. Hey, I bet I can cheer you up.”

They were quiet, and I was gripped by the fear that they were moving on without me. In a panic, I lifted my head to see over the log.

My mouth fell open.

Rebecca Lansing was sitting on the generator, wearing a big blue canvas coat. Her bare legs were wrapped around a guard’s hips—the soldier with the sandy hair. The nearly handsome guard who had approved of her line this morning. He had one hand shoved through her messed blond hair, the other on her bare thigh. Their lips were smashed against each other with a frenzied passion.

Part of me knew this was a dream. There was no possible way in the history of the human race that prude, holy Rebecca, my roommate, my Student Assistant, was getting it on with a soldier. On school grounds. In the middle of the night.

Anger scored through me. Rosa was in the shack being punished while Rebecca was screwing some guy on the generator. My hands balled into fists. My jaw clenched. And if reason hadn’t completely abandoned me earlier, it did then.

Before I knew it, I was standing.

“What was—”

I wasn’t surprised to be blinded by the flashlight. It caught me right in the face, blacking out the people behind it. I threw up a hand to guard my eyes and marched forward blindly around the log, over the branches and debris.

“Who is that?” I heard Rebecca say. And then, “Oh, my God.”

The guard cursed. Sean, she had called him. He detached himself from Rebecca and lunged forward toward me. I almost wanted him to reach me. All I saw when I looked at him was his stony face as he’d dragged Rosa away.

“Stop it!” Rebecca hopped down off the generator and jumped in front of him. “Ember, what are you doing here?” I hated that perky little voice.

“You liar !” I growled.

“What? How long have you been here?”

“Long enough, Becca. ” My words, though raspy, flew out like water from a busted pipe.

“It’s not what it looks like.”

“Oh, really ?”

“I thought you said she was asleep!” Banks nearly shouted.

“Shut up, Sean!” she snapped. When he didn’t answer, she grabbed my sleeve and tried to jerk me toward the facility. “Come on, we’re going back.”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “I’m done listening to you.”

“You have to come. The next guard will be coming through in a few minutes. You get caught, you’re done for. Get it?”

“Just me? I don’t think so,” I said, in a voice that sounded like mine but far bolder. Everything about me seemed disconnected. My skin was ice cold, but the blood running beneath was hot. My organs all felt like separate fragmented pieces. It took great effort to breathe the frigid air. I did not feel like myself at all.

“You think they care that Sean and I are out here?” she said, waving her arms in frustration. “You think they haven’t done the same thing? They watch each other’s backs, okay? They’ll punish you for telling on him.”

“Maybe they will,” I agreed, and felt my resentment kick up another notch. “And maybe the guards don’t care, but I’m sure Ms. Brock would love to hear how her shining star is sneaking around with one of the soldiers.”

Banks looked at her, his face twisting with panic—with real emotion. Then he stared at me, terror melting into desperation.

“She’ll never believe you,” he said to me.

“Maybe not. But they’ll watch her, won’t they? They’ll have a guard by our room, making sure she doesn’t try anything, and—” In all honesty, I didn’t know what Ms. Brock would do, but Sean’s darkening look told me I’d hit the mark.

“You can’t tell her… Miller, right? Becca’s out in three months. You have to give her that long.”

“Let me handle this, Sean,” she said.

I was taken aback by his burst of chivalry. Was he really trying to protect her? I crossed my arms over my chest. Maybe they weren’t all as dead inside as they seemed.

Well, maybe some of them weren’t, anyway.

“You… you can’t tell, Ember. You can’t. ”

“And what’s stopping me?”

With an audible intake of breath, Sean flicked the strap off the gun at his waist. I could tell by his round, conflicted eyes that he didn’t want to shoot me, but that didn’t stifle my fear one bit. In that moment I remembered Randolph’s baton on my throat, and Brock’s whip on my hands, and wondered why I thought this soldier wouldn’t be capable of the very same or worse.

I fought the urge to run.

“She said the next guard will be through in a few minutes!” I shouted. “How are you going to explain why Rebecca was here if you shoot me?” I was shaking now. I hoped neither of them could see it in the darkness. He wouldn’t shoot me. Not for this. He couldn’t. There was too much risk.