Summer Lane - Day One

“You wounded, boy?” the man asked Jay, gesturing to the bandage on his arm.

Jay didn’t answer. He only glared.

“Listen,” the man said. “My name is Lieutenant Jeremy Danes, and I’m with the California National Guard. These two here are Private Kilion and Private Yancey. We’re just patrolling the area, making sure the pond scum isn’t coming back.”

“You’re with the United States Military ?” Elle asked, blinking.

“Yes, ma’am,” Danes replied. “We sure are.”

“How do we know you’re telling the truth?” she demanded. “The Slavers dress as militia to lure people in. I can’t just take your word for it.”

“No offense, kid,” Danes replied, “but you don’t have to believe crap. My men and I will leave you alone if you say the word, but I don’t think that’s what you want. By the looks of it, you probably don’t have any food and you’re sorely dehydrated. Am I right?”

Elle shrugged, still holding her gun.

“We can help you,” he continued. “But you’ve got to lower your gun.”

“I never lower my gun.”

“You’re going to have to trust us.”

“Trusting gets people killed. I don’t plan on being a casualty of blind faith.”

“It might save your life, kid.”

Elle hesitated. If Danes was telling the truth — if they really were United States Military men — then this could be their salvation. They would be rescued from the hell of the desert and the threat of Slaver pursuit.

“You’ve come from Slaver Territory, haven’t you?” Danes stated. “There was a big stir in the San Jacinto hills a couple of days ago. I’m guessing you were a part of that.”

“We’re not Slavers,” Georgia replied. “We were Slaver prisoners. We escaped.”

“I figured as much.” Danes grinned. “That’s quite a feat, escaping from the Slavers. From what we hear, they’re a pretty brutal bunch.”

“They’re monsters,” Georgia answered.

“Why don’t you come back with us?” Danes asked. “We’ve got food and water — clean clothes. The military is offering shelter to anybody who comes in clean.”

“Clean?” Elle echoed.

“Unarmed until we check you at the front gate.”

“I’m not giving up my weapons.”

“Then I guess you’re not coming with us to safe haven.”

Elle hesitated.

What choice did they really have? They could say no to these men and continue across the desert, starved and dehydrated — possibly risking recapture by the Slavers.

“Where is this safe haven of yours?” Elle asked.

“Not far. There are a lot of refugees there. People like you.”

“I’m not a refugee.”

“You’re a kid who needs help. Now take it or leave it. I ain’t got all day.”

Elle looked at Jay. His face was stone. Georgia glanced at Elle, a pleading expression on her face. And then Flash walked forward, toward Danes.

“I’ll come with you,” he said.

Elle closed her eyes, sighing.

She knew what she had to do.

The safe haven wasn’t what Elle expected. It was built under the ground, a stronghold beneath the towering Tehachapi Mountains. A chain link fence surrounded the property, guarded by soldiers on towers and mazes of concrete barriers. Georgia, Jay and Flash strained to see out the window, murmuring softly. Jay glanced at Elle. His expression betrayed worry.

Elle looked away.

They sat in the back of the Humvee, squished together in the backseat. Lieutenant Danes drove, and the two privates were keeping their gazes trained on the windows.

The inside strap of Elle’s jacket was weightless, as was the sheath on her back. She had agreed to leave her weapons in the back of the Humvee while they entered the camp — until the National Guard cleared their entry.

Elle had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Nervousness? Probably. What if the National Guard didn’t let them in? What if they tossed then out on their butts, back into the harsh, unforgiving plain of the Mojave?

Well. There was nothing they could do now but see what happened.

They rolled up to the front checkpoint. Elle had never been on or near a military base before, so she wasn’t sure what she should expect. The guards conversed with Lieutenant Danes. He gestured to Elle and the others a few times, keeping his voice low. The guards peered at the kids, shaking their heads. And then they got a green light, and the Humvee rumbled through the first checkpoint, past the barriers and into the entrance to the safe haven. The structure of the building was similar to a parking garage. It was made of concrete, built into the side of the mountain. A small, bunker-like opening sloped downward, allowing vehicles to roll into a loading area. The Humvee pulled into it, cut the engine, and Lieutenant Danes opened the rear doors.

“Okay, everybody out,” he commanded.

Elle bolted, anxious to escape the inside of the vehicle. She stood on the cement flooring. An open area of Humvees, trucks and Jeeps filled the inside of the first level. White numbers were painted on the walls: 27.

“What’s twenty-seven mean?” Georgia whispered to Elle.

“Don’t know.”

The place was buzzing with activity. Bravo jumped out of the Humvee, taking his place next to Elle’s leg. She scratched him behind the ears. He was calm — extremely calm, actually. She was jealous of his self-control.

Elle’s hands were trembling with fear, so she stuffed them in her pockets.

“Alright,” Danes said. “Welcome to Sector 27, one of many National Guard strongholds in the state of California. I’m going to need you to follow me. The dog, too.”

Bravo looked up at Elle.

This is a big kennel.

She shrugged. “It’s better than being in the desert.”

I kind of like it, to be honest.

Elle hid a sarcastic smile.

They followed Danes and the two rivates through the parking garage and through a heavy metal door. The door led to a huge, double-wide staircase that descended deeper into the ground. They ended up two flights below the loading area, deep beneath the mountain. They walked through more doors and into a huge room flooded with generator-powered lights. Everything was concrete. It resembled a colorless gymnasium — minus windows and screaming cheerleaders. There were men and women lying on cots on the floor, wrapped in blankets. There were children, infants.

“This is the Refugee Ward,” Danes said. He nodded at Private Yancey and Private Kilion. They pulled away and disappeared into the ward. “This is where you’ll be able to find some food and water. See that lady in the back over there?”

He gestured to a heavyset woman with white hair. She was standing behind a table, doling out bowls of soup. “That’s Myra Linch,” he continued. “She’s in charge of the Ward. You need anything, you talk to her.”

“When are we going to get our weapons back?” Elle asked.

“We’ll talk about that later,” Danes replied.

“Or we could talk now .”

“You’re starving and dehydrated. I suggest you eat first.”

“No. I want to talk.”

Danes folded his arms across his chest, chewing on his lower lip. He tilted his head, studying Bravo. “All right. We’ll talk.” He pointed to the far corner of the room. “You three”— he waved a hand at Georgia, Jay and Flash— “go eat.” He looked at Elle. “You and the dog can come with me.”

“Hey, if you’re talking, I want to hear, too,” Jay stated.

“I didn’t ask you what you wanted,” Danes answered. “Do what I say, kid.”

Jay curled his fingers into fists. Elle touched his shoulder.

“Just do it,” she advised. “I’ll be back.”