Kristen Simmons - Article 5

Rebecca sat on the end of my bed and braided her yellow hair over her shoulder while I changed. She prattled on about how excited she was to have a new roommate and how we were going to be best friends, which put a halt to any questions I’d been thinking I might ask her about Ms. Brock and the Sisters of Salvation. Because the conversation seemed so superficial it had to be fake, and because I was pretty sure it wasn’t fake, I blocked out her voice and checked my reflection in the mirror.

I’d never been conventionally pretty: My eyes were big and brown and I had long black lashes, but my eyebrows didn’t arch right and my nose was slightly crooked. Now my complexion was ghoulish—not entirely unlike the girl the soldiers had escorted back into the building—and my cheekbones appeared too prominent, like the last hours had added ten hungry years to my life. The navy uniform was even worse than my school uniform, probably because I resented it a hundred times more.

I forced a deep breath. My hair smelled like the synthetic seat of a school bus. I quickly combed out the kinks with my fingers and tied it back into a ragged knot.

“Time for class,” Rebecca chimed, catching my attention.

My brain began flipping through my options. I needed to find a phone. I’d try home first, just in case the MM had released my mother. If not, I’d call Beth to see if she’d heard anything about where they’d taken the Article violators.

When I glanced down at Rebecca, I found her overly excited at the prospect of showing me around. She had a position of some power here as a Student Assistant and could potentially tell on me if I got out of line. She looked like the type.

I was going to have to be covert.

A few minutes later we were walking to the pavilion, just across from the cafeteria, where nearly a hundred girls milled about. It could have been high school—the whispered gossip that preceded all new kids was here, too—but the mood was too somber. Instead of being curious or petty, they were afraid of us. As though we might do something crazy. It was a strange reaction considering I was thinking the same of them.

When the bell tolled, all conversation ceased. Girls darted away to their classes, where they fell into cookie-cutter lines. Rebecca pulled my arm, and I complied like a rag doll, allowing her to set me in place. Silence reigned over the pavilion.

Within moments, soldiers appeared to lead, follow, and flank each line. A young man with pockmarked cheeks and the build of a weasel passed me on his way to the back. His uniform read RANDOLPH. Another, at the front of the line, had an almost glowing complexion by comparison. He had a neatly shaved jaw and sandy-colored hair and would have been handsome had his blue eyes not been so vacant.

What does the MM do to suck out a person’s soul like that? I banished the automatic conjuring of Chase from my mind.

“Ms. Lansing,” acknowledged the almost-handsome guard.

“Good morning, Mr. Banks,” she said sweetly. He gave her a quick, emotionless nod, as if to approve of her line formation. The whole interaction seemed awkward and forced.

“Hola, princesa,” whispered a girl behind me. I turned to see Rosa, noticing how she’d refused to tuck in her navy blouse. The redheaded girl behind her—the roommate, I guessed—had a look of disapproval on her face. Clearly, she wasn’t pleased with the new living arrangements.

Her red hair reminded me of how much I already missed Beth.

It was comforting having Rosa nearby. Even if she was rude, at least she was real, and when the bell tolled and the heads of the lines dispersed, we stayed close, bound by our mistrust of the others.

We followed Rebecca down the stairs, past the laundry facility, medical clinic, and a squat brick office with a fire hydrant out front. There, the seventeens separated from the other lines and marched over a plot of grass connecting to a path that led us between two tall stone buildings. I hungrily surveyed the grounds, trying to form a mental map in my mind. It appeared there was only one way in and out: the main gate.

When Rosa spoke again, it was barely above a breath.

“Watch and learn.”

I turned back, but she was already gone.

WITHher skirt hitched up around her thighs, Rosa disappeared between the two buildings. The guards shouted things, words I couldn’t make out because the adrenaline was already roaring through my body. One immediately tore after her. Another picked up his radio and gave a few clipped orders before following. The girls whispered feverishly, but no one moved.

The blood pounded through my temples. Where was she going? Had she seen an exit I hadn’t?

The thought hit me that I should run the other direction. Rosa had distracted the guards and the rest of the seventeens; they might not notice if I slipped away. I could race back up the stairs toward the front gate and… and then what? Hide in the bushes until a car came through and sneak out behind it? Right. No one would notice that. The bus ride hadn’t revealed any signs of civilization since before dawn, and it wasn’t like I could walk down the highway wearing a reform-school uniform without someone reporting me.

Think!

A telephone. There had to be one in the dormitory. Or maybe in the medical clinic. Yes! The staff would need one in case someone was seriously injured. The clinic was close; we’d passed it just minutes ago. It was right beside that brick building with the fire hydrant.

All eyes were still trained on the alley between the buildings where Rosa had disappeared. Even the guards that remained close by were looking that way. The air prickled. I took a slow step back, the grass crunching beneath my newly issued black flats. It was now or never.

Then a hand clamped down hard on my arm. When I spun right, Rebecca’s blue eyes were sending ice cold darts through me. Her fury was surprising. I hadn’t thought she’d had it in her.

No, she mouthed to me. I tried to shake her off, but she grasped me harder. I could feel her nails digging into my skin. Her skin had whitened in reflection of the morning sun.

“Let go,” I said in a low voice.

“They got her!” someone cried.

All the girls, Rebecca and myself included, inched curiously toward the break between the buildings. I’d managed to rid myself of my roommate’s grip, but it hardly mattered now. The moment had passed. The guards were watching us now that Rosa had been captured. If any of us felt inspired to follow in her footsteps, they were ready. Rebecca had ruined my chances.

I pushed between two girls and saw Rosa, twenty feet in front of me, cornered inside the dead end of the alleyway, trapped. Our two line guards were trying to box her in. They held their arms out wide and low, like they were herding a chicken. Rosa shrieked as she burst through them up the middle, back toward the wide-eyed group of seventeens. The ugly soldier beat her there. He rammed into her from the side and sent her sprawling to the ground.

“No!” I shouted, struggling to reach her. A new guard blocked my way. The skin was tightly stretched across his face, and his insidious glare gave me chills.

Try it, he seemed to say, and you’ll be next.

Everyone watched as the jeering, pock-faced Randolph contained the flailing Rosa with a knee, harshly planted between her shoulder blades. After catching his breath, he hauled her body to a stand and locked her hands behind her back with a zip tie.

And then he hit her.

My belly filled with horror as blood spewed from Rosa’s nose and painted her dark skin. I would have screamed if I’d had the breath. I’d never in my life seen a man hit a woman. I knew Roy had hit my mom. I’d seen the aftereffects. But never the actual act. It was more violent than anything I could have imagined.