RATH - Inception

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RATH - Inception Page 3

by Jeff Olah


  She wiped her face and moved back into the light spilling across the middle of the square room. “I’m not scared. Those things don’t scare me.”

  Rath assumed this was her attempt at showing him how brave she could be. He’d seen it in the eyes and on the faces of the children in his own District many times before, especially when the cold came through. He knew it was only a matter of time before she broke down and the frightened little girl in her surfaced. “It’s okay to be scared of those things. It’s what will keep us alive.”

  Chloe signed heavily. “Sir… I’m really not scared. My mother told me you would save me. I was scared before, but when you found me in the trees, I knew she was right.”

  He scratched his head and as he began to respond, the rapid footfalls overhead halted his words before they were voiced. He simply leaned in and held his index finger over his mouth. Chloe nodded, acknowledging that she understood, and sat at the table massaging her eyes, the red streaks evident as she removed her hands.

  They sat in silence for what seemed an eternity as the trio in the yard above moved through the area, twice shuffling across the grass covered hatch above. With little more than a passing curiosity for the homemade jungle gym set farther back on the property, the Andros made quick work of the backyard and reconvened near the house. Within five minutes, they’d cleared the area and moved to the home next door.

  With no indication of movement within the last thirty minutes, Rath slowly released the locks and opened the hatch door a few inches, just enough to scan the area. The heavy snowfall from only an hour ago had given way to nightfall and with it a mere three-inch drift atop the grassy landscape, backdropped against the carbon black twilight sky.

  Having long since lost interest in anything outside the four concrete walls keeping her safe, Chloe had turned inward and had started to scribble away at the only piece of paper she could find. She hadn’t noticed him trying to get a glimpse of what it was until he stepped away from the short staircase.

  “I think we’re okay now. They probably won’t come back here tonight, whadda ya drawing?”

  Chloe twisted to the right and covered the picture, her cheeks bright red, and for the first time a smile slid across her face. “Nothing…I’m just… just writing some stuff.”

  He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to her earlier answer than he knew. “Chloe…”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Chloe, my friends call me Rath. You are my friend, right?

  “Yeah.”

  “Good… earlier you said that you weren’t afraid.”

  “Uh huh?”

  “And you said your mother told you that I would help?”

  “When those bad people came from the sky and took her away, she told me not to be scared. She said someone would come find me and take care of me.” Chloe folded the piece of paper, shoved it in her backpack, and turned back to him. “I’m not afraid of those bad people. You are good and my dad told me before that good always wins.”

  Rath kneeled down beside her. “I thought because you were crying earlier, that—”

  “I was crying because I miss her.”

  “Your mother?”

  “Yes.”

  6

  More than a few hours had passed as he sat in darkness watching her sleep. The cramped underground concrete box held the cold at bay just enough that he was able to remove his thick down overcoat and lay it across Chloe. She hadn’t moved since he turned down the lights and she’d crawled onto the makeshift cot in the opposite corner. Only her slight whimpers and the thoughts of what was happening less than a hundred yards away kept him from nodding off.

  The events taking place in center of District Two forced him to stay put for the moment. He’d have to get her out of here at some point, although heading over the west wall without anything but the clothes on their backs was a certain death sentence. Rath closed his eyes and rested his head against the rutted concrete wall. The realization of what he needed to do accentuated the already hopeless situation he’d found himself in.

  Before losing his wife, he and Sarah had been awake for just over a day and a half. They prayed the next District they came across on their journey west would be spared whatever devastation befell theirs and many others. His eyelids, like heavy warehouse doors, blinked closed more than a few times. With less than six hours before sunrise, the welcoming hand of slumber descended upon him.

  Sarah’s face was the first he recognized as the warmth enveloped him.

  . . .

  The first time in two hundred eighty days that the sun touched the back of his neck couldn’t have come at a more appropriate moment. July had rarely brought more than two or three days of temperatures above sixty degrees since the day the earth’s orbit was forever altered. Most of those still drawing breath today were born long after the events that changed the face of humanity in ways few could understand. The long strands of sunlight fell from the sky and filtered around her silhouette, warming the earth where it found its home. An afternoon this perfect may have been a regular occurrence thirty-two years ago, although today he understood its absolute rarity. It would be a sin to let its perfection slide into tomorrow without taking advantage of it.

  Sarah sat atop the swing he’d built on the front porch of their home. Her perfectly shaped golden brown calves folded under as she held tightly to the left armrest he’d carved her name into. The day spent creating something that unlocked her smile was a day well spent. The intricate details he’d spent hours sculpting into the single piece of untreated southern yellow pine, ran a distant second to the beauty that was his wife. It took him twelve separate days outside the security of the walls of District Nine to secure the piece of wood suitable for his project, although it took him nearly thirty years to find her. She was worth every second.

  Rath stepped from the shadow of the low overhang and pointed to the gate. “Let’s go!”

  Sarah narrowed her eyes, matching his gaze. “What… go where?”

  “The river, I’m sure it’s flowing today. It has to be. Last time I was out, it was so close and today is the day.”

  The contentment of only minutes ago leaving her smile, Sarah shook her head. “Are you serious? The last time you went that far you almost left me a widow and you had eight other men with you… who all had weapons.”

  Rath ached to convince her that this was a good idea, even though he knew she was right. The thoughts of how dangerous it would be outside the gates were clouded by his yearning to create a memory as beautiful as she was. “We can go for just a few—”

  “Andros,” she said. “Forty-one is what you told me. What’s the plan going to be if we’re sitting by the shore, drinking lemonade, and forty Andros show up and they’re ready to eat?”

  “I’ll tell them to talk to you for five minutes… I think they’ll end up losing their appetite.”

  “Very funny; you know as well as I do that the wall surrounding this District and the men behind it with weapons are the reason we can live a halfway normal life. There’s no reason to play with fate.”

  “Yes, darling I know. I’m one of the men keeping this place safe and realize how serious it is, but I wanted to make this day perfect.”

  Sarah’s smile returned. This time much deeper. “It’s already perfect.”

  Her voice began to trail off, soft and distant. He could no longer make out her features, only a vague profile of her face.

  . . .

  Her tiny hand tugging at his sleeve, he’d slept longer than he wanted to, although less than he needed. “I’m awake, I’m awake.”

  Stepping back, Chloe handed Rath his jacket. “I’m hungry.”

  The pressure against the right side of his head built into a slow pounding beat. He used both hands to drive the sleep away from his face and pushed his thick black hair away from his eyes. The thought of food, contrasted against what he’d have to do to get it, added to the pressure building at the back of his neck. “How long have
you been awake?”

  She grimaced. “I don’t know, sir.”

  “Chloe, you can call me—”

  “Sorry,” Chloe said shaking her head. “Mr. Rath, I don’t know, but I am really hungry.”

  As Chloe moved back to the cot, Rath sat forward, stretching the effects of yesterday’s events out of his battered joints. “Me too… I could eat a horse.”

  Confused, Chloe turned from her backpack. “Eat a what?”

  “It’s a figure of speech,” he said, a slight grin moving across his face. “I’m just agreeing with you. I’m really hungry as well.”

  The exit stood between the two and Rath leaned in, holding his hand in front of the handle as Chloe moved to the overhead door. He asked, “What are you doing?”

  Again looking confused, Chloe sat on the third step, near eye level with Rath as she formed her response. “Mr. Rath, this is my backyard and my house is right there. My mom has food in the kitchen and I’m going to get it. You can come with me. I’m gonna need some help reaching the bowls.”

  Rath finished working the stiffness out of his neck and arms and began sliding his pack on. “Sweetheart, there’s no way you’re going outside. We were very lucky that we weren’t found last night and if those men are close by, they may find us if we both go out. You need to stay put. I’ll get inside and get us something to eat. Okay?”

  “My mom said you would save me and keep me away from those men. I told you I’m not afraid.”

  “Those people… you need to be afraid of them. It’s what is going to keep you and I alive. You need to stay here and keep very quiet.”

  “Mr. Rath,” she said stepping away from the stairs. “You promise you’ll come back?”

  He pushed the remaining three pieces of blank paper and a few colored pencils across the table and making his way to the exit hatch said, “Draw me a picture and before you’re done, I’ll be back… I promise.”

  As Rath broke the seal and yesterday’s snowpack fluttered through the void, Chloe whispered, “I already finished your picture.”

  7

  The temperature had risen ten degrees within the last fifteen minutes and although the passenger cabin remained completely silent, she knew what the others were thinking. Avoiding eye contact with the guard now stationed within arm’s reach and turning her back on the woman to her right, Sarah lowered her head to her chest and closed her eyes; her thoughts were hundreds of miles away.

  As the first bead of sweat ran from her brow, down her cheek, and dropped to the seat below, she sensed the massive drone banking hard to the right. Moments later, they were descending rapidly out of the sky and the largest of the three guards nearest her stumbled backward into the door to the forward cabin. On his knees, the hulking man in black crawled to the first chair he could reach and pulled himself to standing position. He turned and looked for someone other than himself to blame. No one matched his gaze.

  Suppressing the rage and contempt that continued to build, Sarah took three long breaths and tried to picture his face. She dug her fingers into her thighs, channeling her anger away from what her heart was telling her to act on. Stay within yourself. This isn’t your fight—This. Is. Not. Your. Fight.

  The drone dropped again and decelerated even more rapidly than before. The guard nearest the door motioned to the others, and one by one they started for the forward cabin. Sarah turned her attention to the men as they filed out and watched as they strapped into the individual seats before slamming the door closed. Sarah turned to the woman on her right who’d yet to make a sound and nodded toward the rear door.

  “I think we are landing… please try to keep it together.” She waited for Lauren to at least appear to understand before continuing. As much as it troubled her, Sarah feared more for her own safety, by way of association, than for the woman sitting to her right. Sarah leaned in again and whispered, “Lauren, can you do that? These men don’t exactly look like they care what we have to say; you’ve seen that. Promise me you’ll stay calm, at least until we figure out where they’re taking us.”

  The cabin began to shake as the drone pitched hard to the left and then back to center, righting itself. Slowing once again, Sarah guessed that the massive aircraft had finally reached its destination and that she and the other ninety-seven captives were about to realize their fate.

  The door to the forward cabin and the massive cargo door breathed to life simultaneously. Lauren’s blank stare transitioned back into the terrified look of only a few hours before. Before she pulled enough air into her lungs to begin her verbal assault, Sarah intervened. “Lauren, stay with me, we have to be strong. Not for us, but for those we left behind.”

  She wasn’t sure exactly why, although something in what she said finally seemed to force a wedge into Lauren’s psychotic path to self-destruction, a subconscious retaliation for being separated from her daughter. Her features softened and her eyes lost their hardened appearance as she looked at Sarah and for the first time actually saw her. Speaking quietly as the guards moved quickly past them and to the rear door, Lauren said, “I’m sorry. My daughter is out there somewhere, all alone, and I’m scared beyond myself. But you’re right; it won’t do her any good for me to get myself killed. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

  The men in black began unstrapping the others two at a time. Then using the same heavy nylon restrains, they bound them together in pairs, by the ankles. Bodies tossed to the floor as the guards forced their will on the unsuspecting travelers and those who resisted were readily dealt with. It only took a half dozen or so strikes from their stun batons on the initial group to get the remaining passengers to comply.

  The guard who’d thrown the man from the cargo hold earlier removed his baton and struck the woman lying at his feet once more. As she convulsed along the floor for all to see, he shouted one final directive. “Any more trouble and the rest of you are going to pay the price. Stay calm, it’s going to be over shortly.”

  Like a demented version of a three-legged race, the terrified passengers were marched through what appeared to be sand, into the early morning air.

  The men laced the strap so tight around Sarah’s ankle that she could feel her pulse slamming into the thick fabric. They pulled Lauren to her feet and used the remaining length to bind the pair into one awkward unit. The larger of the remaining guards shoved Sarah forward and down the gradual incline of the door turned ramp. Both women narrowly avoided the fate that befell many others who misjudged the transition from drone to earth and ended up with a face full of sand as a chaotic welcome into their new world.

  Lauren steadied herself against Sarah’s right shoulder as they stepped around another pair of women who began assaulting one another over the right to be the first to stand. Rounding the left edge of the enormous wing, Sarah paused, pulling Lauren to a stop as well. Lauren turned; her eyes growing wide as she also began to also realize what this was.

  More bodies than either could count lay face down in the sand, black bags over their heads, unmoving. Sarah held back her anguish, although Lauren was overwhelmed by the scene. She lurched backward, both women falling to the sand in the process. They were instantly retrieved by the guard standing feet away, pulled back to their feet and again shoved forward.

  Sarah took note that of the thirty plus bodies littering the sandy dune, most were men. A quick count of those still standing revealed that only fourteen of the original twenty-five who first exited the drone were spared.

  Again Lauren’s instinct was to flee. She pulled hard against the forces drawing her forward as Sarah made her final plea. “Lauren… stay close and don’t fight them. No matter what they do, just remember you need to get out of here and back to your daughter in one piece. Let’s just do what they say and wait for our time.”

  “Our time for what?”

  “To escape.”

  8

  The yard was quiet and the short trip through the light dusting of early morning snow was quick. Rath entered throu
gh the back door without making a sound. The fact that the door was already partially opened only slightly concerned him. His boots leaving a trail of wet footprints as he made his way through the kitchen and into the living room, he found the first floor to be only a tad warmer than the outside. Blowing out, he watched his frozen breath float away and vanish as he rounded the staircase and paused.

  Transitioning from the carpeted hall onto the slated oak hardwood flooring of the entry, Rath’s weight pushed in a loose section and with it came the first sound he’d made since entering the home. The squelch it made echoed through the family room and into the other downstairs rooms. He closed his eyes, held his breath, and waited for a sign that he may have company on the upper level.

 

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