G Hopf - Driver 8 - A Post-Apocalyptic Novel

“I have a feeling you’re in a bit of hot water with your father, pun intended,” Kyle said.

Finished, Barry put the sponge down and stepped out careful not to slip on the floor, not an easy thing to do when the floor is covered in visqueen.

Kyle placed the long handle brush he was using down. He turned and began stuffing a fifty-five-gallon bag with Barry’s dirty clothes. He then removed his and put them in the bag, tied it closed and tossed it in the corner.

Barry wasted no time ripping open the packaging that held his clean clothes. Coupled with the cold water, the chilly air made him shiver uncontrollably.

Kyle jumped into the shower and they repeated the process with him.

“Why can’t we just wash the clothes?” Barry asked.

“I don’t take any chances, period. Best to burn them,” Kyle answered.

“That sucks, I liked those jeans.”

“Be grateful you even have clean clothes.”

“These pants are too small, I knew it, I fucking knew these would run small and they’re long as hell,” Barry complained as he tugged at tight waistband of the new jeans.

Kyle shrugged his shoulders and smirked, “If you lost a few pounds that wouldn’t be a problem.”

Barry raised his middle finger and marched off.

Portia opened her eyes, only to close them from the bright fluorescent light beaming in her face. When her eyes adjusted, she slowly opened them to discover she was still in the infirmary. “Ouch,” she said out loud. Her head was throbbed, no doubt from when she hit her head on the floor. She tried to lift her right hand but couldn’t, it was bound to the bed rail. Startled, she tried to lift her left arm only to find it was also bound. Suddenly she realized the trouble she was in, “Oh, no,” she sighed.

The door opened and in stepped a uniformed security officer. He gave her a once over and said, “Teacher Seven, are you able to walk?”

“I think so, take these bindings off and I’ll find out,” she replied.

He pulled out a knife and stepped over.

Seeing the glint of the blade gave her a pause. “What are you going to do with that?”

He towered over her, knife in hand. With a crooked smile stretched across his face, he lowered the blade and cut the plastic tie that bound her right hand.

She raised her hand and looked at the reddened and bruised skin around her wrist.

The guard cut the other binding and pocketed the knife. He gave her a smug look and asked, “Are you going to give me trouble?”

Wide eyed and happy to be free, she answered, “No. I won’t be any trouble. I promise.” She sat up and took turns massaging her wrists.

“Come with me.”

She did as he ordered.

In the hallway, she was met by glaring and suspicious eyes. The guard escorted her down a short hallway and stopped outside a door.

She looked at him and asked, “Do I open it?”

“Yes.”

Nervous, she asked, “What’s inside?”

“Open the door,” he ordered.

With a shaking hand she did as he said, when the door fully opened she saw Melissa sitting inside. She turned to the guard and asked, “I don’t understand.”

“You know people I guess,” he replied and looked at his watch. “You have ten minutes, that’s it.”

Not wasting a second to ask silly questions, she rushed inside. “Melissa, how are you?”

“Hi.”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she dropped to her knees in front of Melissa. “Are you okay?”

“I fine,” Melissa answered.

Portia took Melissa’s hands in hers and said, “I don’t want you to be afraid. Do you understand?”

“I’m not afraid, but you look like you are,” Melissa said.

Wiping her tears, Portia said, “I’ll be honest, I don’t want you to go. I’m afraid for you.”

“I’ll be fine. It’s my path. Like the Number One says…”

Portia put her hand to Melissa’s lips and said, “I don’t care. Let’s just enjoy these last minutes.”

“Have I disappointed you?” Melissa asked.

“Oh, no, no, don’t ever think you disappointed me. You’re amazing, in fact, you’re probably one of the bravest people I’ve ever met.”

“I am?”

“Yes, you are.”

“Have you seen my daddy?”

Looking shocked, Portia replied, “Your father didn’t come visit you?” A final visitation was allowed during the processing period.

“Is he okay?” she asked.

“I’m sure he’s fine, just running late,” Portia lied.

“They said, I’m leaving after I see you. Do you think he’s mad at me?”

“No, I’m sure he’s just running late, I’ll ask the guard,” Portia said getting back to her feet and knocking on the door.

The guard promptly opened the door and asked, “All done?”

“No. Her father. Why wasn’t he informed? He has visitation rights,” she said.

The guard looked over Portia’s shoulder and lowered his voice, “He declined.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen people do it before. They’re embarrassed, even ashamed at having someone in their family get banished.”

“Is daddy coming?” Melissa asked, her voice raised.

Portia turned around and said, “Ah, I’m not sure. I don’t think he knows. They’re going to go find him.”

As the guard closed the door he said, “Five more minutes.”

Portia rushed to Melissa’s side and sat in a chair next to her. “Did they say anything about where they’ll take you?”

“No.”

Portia was angry with her father. Over and over she asked herself. How can a parent not see their child off?

Melissa lowered her head and whimpered.

Seeing her emotional response, Portia knew everything before was an act. Melissa was scared but she had done her best to put up a front that she was tough. “I’m here with you.”

“Why won’t he come see me?”

“Like I said, he doesn’t know, but I know the second he finds out, he’ll be here. He loves you deeply,” she lied again. “Speaking of your daddy, did he ever mention where your mother might be?” Portia asked with hopes that the two could reunite outside the gates.

“No,” Melissa replied wiping tears from her cheeks.

“When they put you out, the first thing you do is start asking around, you understand. Someone in those small hamlets outside might know where she is,” Portia said.

Melissa nodded.

The door opened. “Time is up,” the guard said.

Melissa leapt into Portia’s arms. “I’m scared," she said finally expressing her feelings.

“I know you are sweetheart,” Portia said cradling her.

“Time is up,” the guard barked in his gruff voice.

“I need a bit more time,” Portia urged.

“Time is up!” the guard barked and came into the room in an aggressive manner.

“Melissa, do as I say, as soon as you get outside the walls, go to the nearest hamlet or village and start asking for your mother.”

Melissa nodded.

The guard grabbed Portia by the arm. “Time is up, and Number One wants to see you.”

Portia’s heart skipped a beat.

Melissa let go and slid down to her feet. “Goodbye, Teacher Seven.”

The guard pulled Portia to the door. She turned but couldn’t find the strength to say goodbye so she simply said, “Love you.”

“Collective Prime, this is Driver Eight, come in over,” Kyle radioed. All he got in return was static. “Collective Prime, this is Driver Eight, come in over.” Still static. “Hmm, maybe I’ll try a relay.” He switched the frequency and keyed the microphone. “Any station this net, this is Driver Eight, come in over.” Again, static.