Children of the Kradle (Trilogy Book 1)

by Alexa Hamilton

  She envied how everyone appeared to know what needed to be done and how to do it. No one person seemed to be in charge, and no one had to tell anyone to go to work. Why was it, back in the Kradle, people waited for someone to instruct them?

  “Mevia.” Sandra waved her over from across the Clearing. “You look great! I’m so glad everything fit.” She tugged at the skirt. “Here, come with me.”

  Sandra took her to the garden where they went to work pulling weeds. There were two others at the opposite end of the quarter acre plot. They were bent over tasking along. The tops of their heads bobbed up and down among the tomatoes like twin camel humps plodding over the uneven ground.

  Mevia was given a hand woven basket, the dried twigs splaying at the corners. Sandra started the two of them off in different rows of cabbage, paralleling one another. Mevia mirrored her gait, a squatted duck-like walk. They moved down the rows, tossing the unearthed weeds into their baskets.

  As they scavenged the dirt dusted aisles, Mevia listened to Sandra talk. From the sound of her calming voice to the way she described their world, there was something about her that soothed the skittish animal living inside Mevia. She felt her mind easing into a blue calm.

  “And over there, is James and Telly.” Sandra ripped a finger sized stalk from the ground. “James is the one you haven’t met yet.”

  “Oh?”

  “He was on patrol duty last night with Henny. They’ve been up all night but like to get their chores done in the morning—especially James, he loves to garden. Then they sleep for the rest of the day and start the cycle all over again. They’re our night owls.” Sandra looked up and nodded her head toward the end of the field.

  Mevia peaked over the vegetation and saw James standing upright, stretching his back. Something jolted in her as though she had been struck by lightning but from the inside out. James was leaning backward, his hands placed against his lower back. Through his thin, white t-shirt, his ribs jutted out from his bony frame. He was only a couple pounds away from being a skeleton. His arms showed no hint of muscle and protruded from his sides like grasshopper legs. His mud colored hair hung across his soft, brown eyes.

  Mevia stared up at him, unable to move. She tried to pin point what was so striking. It was as if she already knew him although she was positive they had never met. She was drawn to him, yet it wasn’t a physical attraction. He was nice looking, yes, and about her same age, but that wasn’t it. Something was tugging at her memory.

  Sandra called James over and introduced them. He smiled broadly and gave a little wave. “Welcome.” There was no sign of recognition on his face. Then how did she know him?

  After that her progress was slow. Sandra reassured her that soon her legs would be strong and she would be able to work as fast as the others. Mevia nodded absently and continued on in her drunken duck walk. Sandra was way ahead which gave her time to sort out her thoughts.

  Her brain moved like a rusty pocket watch, the gears slowly creeping around, one thought turning into another. She wound it backwards over and over trying to remember something, but how do you remember a person you’ve never met? At least not directly. There was someone else in the equation, but who?

  Mevia hoped that her wits would return to what they were before. She sweated, struggling to think clearly. Every so often she would turn back to try and get a look at James, but only caught a glance of Telly, who waved pleasantly.

  Then, the sound of James coughing broke through the silence. He stood up and leaned over, clutching his chest, his breathing now a scratchy staccato.

  “You ok, buddy?” Telly stood up and placed a dirty hand on his back. He nodded, but was struggling. “I think it’s time for you to go to bed. Go on.” She took his basket.

  He was still coughing, his head hanging as he walked towards the cavern.

  “Poor guy,” Telly said. “He’s got a heart condition that gives him trouble sometimes.”

  “That’s terrible,” Mevia said, still squatting. Then it dawned on her. She fell back on her bottom and dropped the basket full of grass blades.

  She was remembering her time at the Demonstration Training Center, before she entered the ring with the Drones.

  Kilt.

  Of course, how could she have forgotten about her conversations with Kilt? God that seemed like a whole other lifetime.

  Mevia laughed, delighted that her memory resurfaced. She would need to find a way to talk to James privately, but it would have to be that evening after he awoke.

  She smiled picturing the look on Kilt’s face if he only knew.

  Chapter 25

  Mevia was busy all day, but managed a nap in the afternoon. The rest, the sunshine, and the delicious meals were doing her good. Maybe one day soon she would start feeling like herself again.

  After her nap she went outside and helped Henny sort through the clams for dinner. Henny was a large, muscular woman who if it wasn’t for her baby smooth face, could easily be mistaken for a man. However she was an easy conversationalist and patient in teaching. Mevia felt an effortless comfort in her presence and relaxed into the rhythm of her work, humming along with the movement of her hands.

  That evening after dinner was cleaned, she did not follow the others into the cave for bed. Instead, she took a torch and went out on her own.

  Mevia went to the mountain side and looked up the rock, wondering if her lungs were up to such a long, steep climb. “The sooner you start, the sooner you finish,” she muttered, doubling her grip on the torch. She began up the trail, keeping low since she could only use her wrist for balance. She thought about leaving the light behind but was afraid she wouldn’t be able to find her way back.

  Half-way up she slipped.

  “Oh!” she gasped landing on her stomach. The torch fell and rolled into a rock cluster, its flame blowing irritably in the wind. Mevia rolled over and examined herself: just a small scrape on her knee, no blood. She let out a sigh of relief and crawled over to the torch.

  It took nearly a half hour of careful footwork, but she finally cleared the ridge and made it to the top. She sat on the level ground, panting. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she surveyed the moonlit land below that lived on the other side.

  The light illuminated every tree, every leaf, extending its omniscient reach across the island. The sleepy trees swayed in unison to the gentle night wind. The white sand stretched out to the ocean, as if there were trillions of live particles, fleeing the jungle. The pearl surf exhaled a breath-full of foamy sea-sand upon the beach, tossing and frothing before inhaling and returning for more.

  Mevia stared in awe at its beauty however, the point from which she sat, was close enough for her. Down in that enchanted forest lurked monsters and ogres more horrible than in any made-up story.

  “Hey, put that thing out.”

  Mevia jumped. It was only James but now she was shaking. “What?”

  He emerged from the shadows, grabbed her torch, and threw it down the Clearing side into some rocks.

  Mevia tilted her head up to the thin figure in the darkness. The moon shone behind him, leaving his features formless.

  “Sorry,” he said, squatting down, his shirt billowing in the breeze. “You don’t want the Poachers to see, do you?” He had a farmer’s accent.

  “No. I didn’t realize—“ She stopped. He had knelt closer, and was smiling, revealing a straight line of perfectly white teeth. That’s when she knew her suspicions were correct. “I know your brother, Kilt,” she blurted.

  His smile which was his brother’s smile, shifted. His brow creased as he looked past Mevia into the blackness. “Oh,” he finally said, sitting down.

  “He’s a friend.”

  James’ eyes snapped back to her. “Is? So he’s still alive?”

  She nodded.

  His shoulders relaxed. “How did you know it was me?”

  “Kilt described you. He talked about you all the time.”

  James snorted. “I guess he said I was hi
s chicken leg older brother? Huh?” He chuckled, then turned and sat cross-legged, looking out to the moonlit jungle below. “Crying shame when a little brother has to worry about his big brother.” He sighed. “But he was always so strong. Stronger than any other farm boy.”

  “He talked a lot about life out on the Farms. He made it sound nice,” Mevia said.

  “It was nice. Hard. Really hard sometimes. But we liked it. It was home, well, for us at least. I can’t say the same for my parents.”

  She wanted to ask more about his childhood, but he changed the subject.

  “You’re a Slagger, right?”

  She nodded.

  “I can tell by your accent. So, then how did you meet Kilt?”

  “At the Training Center.”

  James’ eyes widened. “He trained again?”

  “Not me, but he spent most of his time in my station.” She looked down, her cheeks burning.

  James laughed. “I bet he did. I’m sure you’re a lot prettier than whatever gladiator he was there with.”

  Mevia said nothing.

  James apologized saying he hoped he didn’t make her uncomfortable.

  “No, it’s ok.” She gave him a reassuring smile, telling herself she needed to relax. It wasn’t like she could run away anytime one of the men so much as looked at her.

  “Tell me more. I don’t understand why Kilt would train again. Did someone pay him?”

  “I don’t know.” Mevia rubbed the bridge of her nose. She still hadn’t sorted out what happened back there. Something had gone wrong. She began by telling James what she remembered as best she understood. “We tried to escape together.”

  “So what happened? Obviously it didn’t pan out.”

  Mevia gave a short laugh. “I’d say so.” She sighed, squeezed her eyes closed and shook her head. “We were supposed to escape together. The three of us. Just a few days before my Demo. We were heading out to a factory. Kilt knew where to go.”

  “Why were you going to a factory?”

  Mevia looked him squarely. “To burn it to the ground.”

  “Wait…why would you--?”

  “Look I’m not a terrorist. And I wouldn’t hurt anyone,” she said quickly. “But that factory, is where they send all of our food. They inject it with drugs, package it up and then distribute it to everyone.”

  “How do you know?”

  “My suspicions began when I was a child, however, they were deepened when I met Eli, my…friend from the Slags.”

  “Where’s this Eli now?”

  “He works for CorMand.”

  James’ chin dropped. “A Slagger working for CorMand?” He whistled.

  The corners of Mevia’s mouth turned up. “Eli is no ordinary Slagger. He’s no ordinary Corporate either.” She placed her fingers under her chin, trying to articulate the right words. “He’s more of what you’d call, a PhD who can win a street fight. But then again, he has his share of medical issues.” Mevia explained his allergy and told of their balcony garden. “Eli’s allergy in addition to everything else I saw is what made me realize what was happening to our food.”

  “What did you see?”

  She leaned in closer, “The same thing you saw. Think about the people you knew from back home. Couldn’t you just tell something was wrong? I mean, just look at their eyes. Don’t you remember their eyes? All black and empty.”

  James stared at her.

  “Something was off,” she continued. “Everyone always seemed so detached like they couldn’t hold a thought in their heads for very long. They were always distracted.”

  James scratched his head. “I always thought that was because they were really into their phones.”

  “Well there’s that too, but you couldn’t blame it entirely on the technology. Think about it, something would happen in the news, everyone would get fired up about it, but then in a few days, they would move on, as if it never happened.”

  “Yeh,” James nodded. “I see what you mean.”

  “Plus there was the paranoia and of course the depression,”

  “Depression?”

  Mevia tilted her head. “Don’t you think everyone seemed sad? At their best you might call them bored, but really, they were all just sad. It wasn’t like that before the Rebuilding.”

  James studied her. “I don’t know how it was in the Slags, but on the farms everyone liked to drown their day away at the pub.” He smiled, but then his eyebrows shifted as if he saw something in the darkness only visible to him. “So yeah, I guess you could say they were sad.” James stood up and moved to the edge, checking something in the rocks below. After a minute, he seemed satisfied and turned back to Mevia. “I suppose since you and this Eli fella’ grew your own food you had a rare vantage point.” He narrowed his eyes, “So, does this mean you’re one of those conspiracy theorist?”

  “If I am then your brother is too.”

  James raised his eyebrow.

  Mevia continued. “He was the one who told me where the drug factory was located. They cover it up by calling it the Vitamin Enhancement Center, but Kilt knew the truth and he confirmed my suspicions.”

  James scratched his head. “Look, I believe you that Kilt knows about this drug factory, the guy is an explorer. He can find anything. But what I don’t get is why he wanted to risk his neck to help you burn it. It just doesn’t sound like him. He’s no activist. Why was he helping you?”

  Mevia pressed her lips together. Her brain still hadn’t rebooted and she was having a hard time with her memory. “I-I don’t know why.”

  James rubbed his short, patchy beard. “Did he suggest you burn it?”

  “He did, but I was already thinking the exact same thing. She shook her head. “But then our plans got all screwed up in our escape, but once I figure out how to get off this island, I’m going back out there and I’m going to find that factory and I’m going to finish what we started.”

  “Ok, but I still don’t get why he wanted to help you.”

  Mevia gazed up at the moon. “We hit it off. We were friends. I don’t know. Maybe he just felt sorry for me.”

  James didn’t look convinced. He tilted his neck up to the sky, his eyes darting from star to star. “I don’t know. I think my brother may be involved in something. Actually, I’m sure he is. That’s why I’m here. There’s no way I would have lived through the Demos unless there was something going on behind the scenes.” He swatted at a mosquito. “The fact that he went back tells me something.”

  “You’re probably right,” she said. The only reason she was alive was because Eli was secretly in her ear at her own demo, helping her solve the equations to unlock the weapons.

  One time, she had asked Eli why the Weapons Department decided to have both the human and the drone answer math questions for guns.

  “It’s a plot to show that their drones are more intelligent than a human,” Eli had explained.

  “But they don’t have a brain,” Mevia protested.

  Eli smiled. “Well they have a computer inside with a lightning fast processor. The combat drones are amazing pieces of machinery.”

  “It’s sick,” Mevia said. “The way they make us calculate while being hunted by a mindless murder machine. It’s not fair.”

  Eli shrugged. “We want our military to be the best.”

  Mevia, her face burning, glared at him before stomping away, ignoring as he called out, asking what was wrong, his stupidity infuriating her even more. Even now when she thought back to that conversation she felt herself getting angry at Eli all over again.

  James picked up a stick and traced the dirt. “I don’t know who Kilt got involved with. Maybe our government. Maybe…someone else. Either way.” He looked up. “He did something. And now I’m here.”

  They sat quietly, listening to the wind. Mevia decided now was as good of a time as any. She cleared her throat. “James, there’s something else I wanted to tell you.”

  “Ok,” he replied.

  Mev
ia stood and went over the opposite edge, facing the Poacher’s side.

  She took a deep breath. “The last time I saw Kilt was two days after my Demonstration, after the surgery for my hand. I was arrested and transported to the docks where the boat was waiting to bring me here. Well, as I was being lead onto the boat I looked down.” She turned to James, smiling, “and there was Kilt, swimming in the water.”

  James’ eyes widened. “No kidding? What’d he do?”

  “He just gave me a quick wave and then went under.” She paused. “But then I knew. He was watching out for me. So, as soon as I got my pack from the guards, you know the one they give to all the deports?”

  “With the sedatives and seed packs? Yes I remember.”

  “Well,” Mevia said. “Just before they blindfolded and sedated me, I dug through and found something.”

  “What?” James’ eye grew larger.

  “He must have found a way to sneak in and slip it into my pack. I-I don’t know what it was. It looked like, like…” She tried to find the words while shaping it with her hands.

  “Like it belonged with this?” James turned and grabbed a sack lying on the ground. He pulled out a small, square contraption. It had a darkened screen about four inches long and the bottom was missing.

  “Yes!” She took it and turned it over. There was a pair of small holes in the base. “Mine had prongs sticking out that would match perfectly. What is this thing?”

  “Kilt gave it to me. I’m pretty sure it’s some sort of GPS tracking device. He also slipped it in my pack before I came out here, but just before I left, I noticed the battery cell was damaged. It didn’t work. So, I secretly left it with the Captain. He was a drunk, but a good kind of drunk. I would know. So, I told him about this pub that Kilt liked and I promised him that if he went, Kilt would buy it from him.” James laughed. “To be honest, I didn’t expect it to work. I wonder how much Kilt paid ‘em.”

  Mevia studied the device. “Why do you think he gave it to you? I mean, no one knows where this island is located. Hell, that’s why they drugged all of us deports so we wouldn’t know if were ten miles or two thousand miles out. Do you think he knows something we don’t know?”