She received no answer. Others in the camp stirred. Dinah’s presence was still clearly unwelcome, but most turned their attention toward the gate as if they were waiting for something. Of the people she saw, all were women or girls.
Dinah finished her food and put away her kit. She slung her pack and crossed the lane so she could get a better view of the area around the compound. Yellow grass had overgrown everything past the chain-link fence. The large concrete structures in the distance were mostly concealed by trees. A trail of smoke rose from the center, not larger than what a good-sized campfire might produce. Between the gate and the compound was a road covered with gravel, the way clear of weeds. She saw several signs obscured by the grass. She went up to the fence.
“Don’t do that,” a voice said. It was the young girl. She had wandered up behind Dinah.
“Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to climb the fence. I was just looking.”
“My mother said it’s dangerous.”
“Is it, now? You should listen to your mother.”
Dinah put a foot into the fence and pulled herself up so she could read the closest sign.
“Danger! Mines!” the sign read in a faded script, and there were several accompanying graphics of a skull and crossbones and an explosion sending a stick figure into the sky.
She stepped away from the fence. The girl still stood there, staring at Dinah with piercing dark eyes. She picked at her arm where a fresh bandage had been attached at the crook of her elbow. On her wrist, “37” was printed in black marker.
“So, what’s your name?” Dinah asked.
A hiss came from her mother. The woman waved the girl back inside the tent.
“Good to meet you,” Dinah called after her.
From the compound, she heard dogs bark.
I hate dogs.
She didn’t have a good track record with them, and their hearing and smell always seemed supernaturally keen.
She watched the tent by the gate for a while. It was large, green, and big enough for a dozen people to be hiding in there. The two men finally came out and looked back at the compound. They wore leather sleeveless jerkins and hide pants, and both had bushy beards. From their belts hung black sticks.
A loud bell rang once in the compound. She made out what appeared to be a truck emerging from the trees. It was identical to the vehicles from Nineveh: white, with a large cab and an enclosed cargo space at the rear. It rolled slowly down the gravel road, its engine emitting only the slightest hum. The two sentries opened the gate, and the truck did a multipoint turn and stopped with its rear toward the camp. Another shaggy man who was in back got out.
The camp came to life with hurried action. Everyone was up and moving toward the gate. All the younger ones had bandages and a number on one arm just like the girl Dinah had spoken to. It was as if they all had gone through some test or maybe had been given shots. Dinah got closer and tried to stay concealed near the back of the nearest tent, but soon found herself hemmed in. The crowd murmured with excitement. She would have to push her way back to be able to leave.
“What is the number?” a voice in the crowd shouted.
“Which is it?” said another.
More of the woman began to push forward, their daughters in tow. The two sentries had their hands to their sticks, but the shaggy man just held his palms up for all to calm down. It worked.
“It’s not one number,” he said. “It’s three.”
An excited murmur went through the crowd.
“All right. Listen up. Eighteen. Forty-three. Thirty.”
A groan rose. Six people pushed through to the truck, three women with their daughters. The two sentries helped them forward. The girls showed their arms to the shaggy man, who nodded and helped each up into the truck.
Dinah stopped trying to back out of the crowd. Now she advanced. Anger began to rise in her. What could they be doing with these girls but turning them into yet another network of linked human brains? Several in the crowd were turning to leave. Dinah elbowed her way through.
The shaggy man had swung up into the back of the truck and slapped its side three times. The truck hummed to life. Dinah ran forward as one of the sentries held his hands up and the other closed the gates. Several in the crowd, including the girl Dinah had briefly spoken to, just stood there, clearly disappointed that they hadn’t been chosen. Some had tears on their faces.
Dinah grabbed one of the sentries. “Where are you taking them?”
The man pushed her back. “It’s over.” A look of confusion crossed his face as he looked her up and down. “Who are you?”
“I’ll tell you,” a new voice said. Gregory stepped out of the sentries’ tent. He pulled his hat forward to shade the pink skin of his face from the bright sunlight. “This is my friend Dinah from Nineveh. I didn’t expect her here, but if you’ll allow me, I’m sure I can vouch for her. She’s quite the asset and you gentlemen could use her in your endeavor.”
Before Dinah could back up, the sentry seized her wrist.
Gregory walked toward her, his hand producing a short knife from a hidden pocket.
“Oh yes, my fellows. She’s a dear companion. Perhaps a little rough around the edges for my taste, but she’ll fit in fine here. Just fine.”
The Tin Bride Copyright © 2017 Gerhard Gehrke
Contents
Nineveh’s Child
For Abby
Part One: Hunters
1. The Farm
2. Wally
3. Before: The Farm
4. Bird
5. Before: The Farm
6. Strangers
7. Before: The Farm
8. Pink Skin
9. Before: The Farm
10. Broken Places
11. Before: Nineveh—Brother and Beast
Part Two: Ruins
12. Captured
13. Before: Nineveh
14. Ceremony
15. Before: Nineveh
16. Resentment
17. Before: Nineveh
18. South
19. Before: Nineveh
20. Safe
Part Three: The World Inside
21. Before: Nineveh
22. Workspaces
23. Before: Nineveh
24. Group Project
25. Before: Nineveh
26. Odd Combinations
27. Before: Nineveh
28. Spill
29. Before: Nineveh
30. Blood Relatives
31. Sick
32. Before: Nineveh
33. Bedside Story
34. Before: Nineveh
35. Good Medicine
36. Temporary Remedies
37. Flux
38. The Gray Place
39. Oversight
40. Exit
Acknowledgments and Author’s Note
The Tin Bride
Nineveh's Child Page 34
