Concealed in the Shadows

by Gabrielle Arrowsmith

  Even after an uneventful night’s stay in the wine cellar, we take precautions on the short drive into Sheridan. Merick gave the orders that he, Jerus, Galvesten, Della, and a female seeksman named Alix ride in the van, apart from Evvie and me. They are the indispensable members of the battalion sent to Miles.

  I hadn’t even noticed that Alix was female as she stood among the group outside of the van when we doggedly arrived at the station last night. Like me, she must not have distinguished herself from the others as she hurriedly slid off her neoprene ski suit. In the dim light the flashlight provided, and in my preoccupation with my sister waking, I had paid no attention to her or any of the other seeksmen that accompanied Cy.

  This morning, Alix made herself known to me, though not by her intention. As soon as I took notice of her gender, I began to study her. She carries herself with more arrogance than some of the others, she swears profusely, and she spits periodically. I suspect that she can handle herself every bit as well as the men can. I also doubt that she takes the time to study her victims like Crewe and Cy do. I see her being more impulsive, not caring much whether the person has ties to a family inside.

  Aside from these five, Merick gave the orders that the rest of the seeksmen could choose either vehicle to ride in. Being that a small threat of danger still lingers with my sister and me this morning, all the seeksmen chose to squash into the van. All but two.

  A smile erupted from both Crewe and I when Cy patted his brother on the back and called shotgun. I suspect Evvie and I will be forever linked to the Davids brothers.

  “So what happens next?” I ask either of the guys in the front seats. I’ve still put the blocker on Evvie asking questions until I have all of mine answered. Most of the questions that stir about in her head will be answered upon arrival in Sheridan anyhow. For now, I’ve given her the job to soak the remnants of water out of her shoes that didn’t dry in the cool cellar over night.

  “A lot of things will be happening,” Cy answers. “How old are you, Evvie?”

  “Fourteen,” my sister answers, pressing paper into the shoes.

  “Well, you’ll have to get enrolled in school.”

  “Not through EduWeb,” I assume out loud.

  “Better. A traditional high school. We have, what, six teachers between the junior high and high school now?” Cy asks Crewe.

  “I don’t know,” Crewe answers indifferently. “We’ll worry about school in a few days,” he tells us. “We’ll give you girls some time to get settled first.”

  “What’s the normal procedure when you bring in new refugees?” I ask Crewe.

  “Typically the first thing we do is introduce them to Merick, but you’ve already had that pleasure,” Crewe smirks. “Then a collection of people help ready a new living space, but that may be different for you girls as well.”

  “Why?” I ask.

  “The chip business. It’s still too bizarre. We want to keep a closer eye on both of you and provide you with protection for a while.”

  I’m a little annoyed that I’m thought to need protection after having come so far and meeting no resistance, but I say nothing for the sake of my sister. I want Evvie to have all the protection that they offer until I know more. “So where will we stay?”

  “Somewhere on the outskirts, but not as far out as the barn we stayed below last night.” Right, just in case the BOTs decide they want to blow us up. They wouldn’t want the rest of the town to be too near.

  “Are there jobs available?” I ask.

  “Always,” Cy replies. “There are two more mouths to feed now so that means there is more work to be done.”

  “What kind?” I ask.

  “Well, I wouldn’t recommend you become a nurse,” Crewe jokes. “Although being close to the hospital might not be a bad idea.” The smile we share in the rearview mirror makes my cheeks flush. I continue to enjoy a private smile, thinking about being a nurse alongside Della. The lady is as sweet as pie, but I could not handle her all day.

  Cy answers my question seriously. “There are farmers, techies, teachers, waitresses—”

  “I was a server in Miles,” I interrupt.

  “The laundromat,” Crewe reminds Cy.

  “Oh right,” he agrees with his brother. “There’s a woman who runs the laundromat and she’s always behind.”

  “I think a lot of it has to do with that kid,” Crewe shakes his head. Cy turns around to look at me, and begins to laugh, presumably at the thought of me being in this kid’s company. “We’ll set you up there,” Crewe decides.

  I wasn’t dead set on serving for the rest of my life, but I’m confused as to why the brothers ignored my inclination toward it. “Do people have much choice in their work?” I ask.

  “Not like inside,” Crewe begins. “First of all, there are substantially less types of work. We’re a bit limited on resources since we haven’t established solid trade networks. We’re working on that, but we need a system of currency to import and export, and we obviously don’t have one that holds value. In fact, we don’t use a currency at all in our town. We just figure out what needs to be done and we do it for each other. It’s been working for now, but as we grow in numbers, we need to grow in capabilities.”

  “So Sheridan is a commune,” I summarize.

  “You should be a teacher,” Crewe grins in the review mirror again.

  “You should be a politician,” I return.

  “Isn’t everybody?” he jests, causing both of us to laugh unhindered. Cy looks less than amused but Evvie smirks at me. I know the conversation would have her totally lost, so I attribute her grin to the happiness she’s seeing in me, and possibly the recognition that it’s a guy that’s causing it. I elbow her to hold her snickers, but doing so only makes her laughter more difficult to contain. She erupts with giggles in the back seat.

  Cy perks up and rolls down all of our windows with the press of a button on the center console. “It’s time for the parade,” he turns back to Evvie and me to say. We’ve reached the heart of the town.

  There is a tight assembly of shops on both sides of the street just ahead. The people of Sheridan stroll along Main Street. Cy unbuckles hastily and juts the upper half of his body out of the window.

  “Two fifty-one!” he proclaims as he pumps his fist into the air. I think I’m seeing the happiest, most fun-loving Cy there could be. On the street, the walkers react with surprise and joy as they lift their hands to clap and cheer. Crewe unwillingly slows the car to a stop as the townspeople walk into the street to get a peek at the foreigners in the back of the car.

  Evvie and I politely say hello and shake their welcoming hands. In this moment, I think all the questions are erased from Evvie’s mind. She’s happy, excited even, and giggling at Cy’s antics like the average teenage schoolgirl. Seeing her this way couldn’t make me happier. It wasn’t long ago I thought I might lose her forever.

  When it’s freed from the human obstructions, the car leisurely rolls around the corner at the end of Main Street and pulls into a sort of parking lot with spaces separated by lines of neon-orange paint.

  “This is The Lot,” Cy says as he plays tour guide. “The overhang was actually a gas station, and these were the old pumps. We don’t pump fuel anymore, we pour it,” he says as he opens the car door for me. Crewe has already done the same for Evvie. “We’re a bit frugal with energy,” he continues. “You won’t find any solar panels or wind turbines, but we do have water wheels that generate hydroelectric energy. There’s one at the laundromat,” Cy points out.

  “How did Alix come to be a seeksman?” I ask, spoiling the mood. I noticed that according to Merick, she ranks higher than the David’s brothers. I want to know her story.

  “You can give that up right now,” Crewe says as if he’s known my desire to become one all along. “You’re a sought-after woman. We’re not going to dangle you out there as bait.”

  “What does that mean?” Evvie asks with worry.

&nb
sp; “It’s not normal to have microphones like we did, Ev. We’re all trying to figure out why we had them.”

  “Until we do, we’d like both of you to lay low,” Crewe tells her. Evvie nods understandingly.

  I imagine there isn’t much that will rattle my sister after yesterday evening. She had to find the courage to lift her head for air after hearing the ring of gunfire as she swam below the surface of the holding pond. She had to run for her life from Miles, the only place she’s ever known, with complete strangers. She had to allow them to sedate and operate on her to remove the piece of metal containing her identity and livelihood. My sister has been through just as much as any of us have in the last day, and she’s braver because of it.

  “You can count on my brother and me to be there to protect you,” Crewe assures Evvie.

  The Davids brothers start walking toward the convenience store that was once a facet of the gas station. I don’t know why, but I expect the shelves to be stocked with oil and funnels like I’ve seen in pictures of these roadside stores, as well as magazines and donuts like the convenience stores in Miles contain. What we walk into doesn’t resemble my imaginings at all.

  Upon opening the door, we see shelves and other spaces packed with everything imaginable. Half of the wall on our left supports towers of tires. The other half is lined with large barrels, probably containing gasoline.

  The guys swing right and we follow. There is just enough space between the rows of miscellaneous materials and the wall for our bodies to wriggle through. I tuck my elbows tightly into my body so I don’t knock anything off the shelves. I’m afraid setting off a single item could cause an avalanche of random debris.

  “You girls look through the next row,” Crewe says as he and his brother turn into one. “Help yourselves to whatever.” He tosses us a mesh bag to share. He and Cy fill matching bags with various items from the shelves of their row.

  Evvie and I walk around the corner to a row filled with clothing. The items are neatly folded and stacked in columns according to size. We skip past the infant, toddler, child, and preteen columns. The next section of the shelf is simply labeled women, and then subdivided by sizes from extra small to double extra-large.

  As expected, Evvie is a lot pickier than I am as she sifts for things to match her fancy in the random compilation of clothing. I don’t expect she’ll find a single item that’s been in style within the last ten years, but she picks through diligently anyhow. By the time the brothers join us in the row, my patience with her has worn thin.

  “Number one essential: toothbrushes,” Cy says as holds up a plastic stick with bristles on the end. None of the toiletries and other necessities that he digs for and holds up to show us are electronic and sleek like the ones we are used to. Evvie looks more mortified by this shopping spree than she did when she received the news that atypical doctors would be removing her chip in a moving van. What a county kid.

  “Why don’t you look around a bit and see if there’s anything else you need?” Cy suggests when he finishes his chipper inventory.

  “What about showering stuff?” I ask.

  “Oh! That’s all stocked at the shower station,” Cy returns. “We’ll all head there next.”

  “Communal showers?” I ask a little uncomfortably.

  “Less so for the girls,” he answers. “The women have tied up a bunch of old shower curtains to provide some privacy. The old plumbing lines run just fine through the homes for everything else,” Cy explains, turning on tour guide mode again. “Communal showers and laundry facilities are our two targets for reducing water and energy waste.”

  “I’m sorry I have to ask this,” Crewe cuts in awkwardly, “but do you or your sister have any kind of hormone implants?”

  “You mean birth control?” I ask. Crewe nods nervously, either embarrassed by the subject matter or worried that we may have missed something implanted into one of us that could contain global-positioning software or another microphone.

  “No,” I relieve him.

  “Good,” he sighs. “Sorry, I was just thinking about,” he pauses, searching for the words that will embarrass him the least, “female needs, or whatever, while we’re here, you know,” he says, lifting one of the bags they have stocked for us.

  “Did you know that infertility risk is no longer a consideration when the FDA approves drugs and processes?” Cy saves his brother.

  “Another government-sanctioned scheme,” Crewe adds.

  “In other regions of the nation, new chips contain a chemical meant to destroy reproductive potential,” Cy continues. “It’s released by computer remote in accordance with a man or woman’s parenting account.”

  “I suppose that’s less costly than the mandatory implant or operation parenting twice,” I say.

  “That’s exactly how the government sold the idea. Less taxes and more convenience.” I have a feeling Crewe is going to tell me something more that I don’t want to hear. “What the citizens don’t know is that the chemical leaks, slowly reducing reproductive potential beginning at birth when the chips are implanted. The government can also remote abort certain pregnancies.

  “What kind of pregnancies?” I ask. The question is written all over Evvie’s face too.

  “Twins, children with birth defects, or any person’s child that they simply don’t want to exist.”

  “Not children with diseases though,” Cy adds. “If their life is likely to end prematurely, well, the government welcomes that because the years they did live will go onto someone’s account.”

  There isn’t a lot that’s going to surprise me anymore, but I wish all of this hadn’t just been dumped on my little sister. I do want her to understand the evils that we’ve escaped, just maybe not the details and not all at once.

  “Speaking of the matter,” I change the subject, “where can we find the things we need since we don’t have the implants?” I wrap my arm around Evvie and playfully tug on the neon-green, feather-pattern streak in her hair. Not long getting used to this aspect of maturity, Evvie is mortified by my inclusion of her in my question. She must not have understood too much of the prior conversation because this frivolous matter would pale in comparison to what Crewe described. She would be too horrified to care about me embarrassing her.

  “Back in the row where we just were,” Crewe answers. I see I’m wrong to assume that Evvie didn’t understand what we were talking about based solely on her expression of embarrassment, because Crewe was the one informing us, and he stands in front of us far more uncomfortable to answer my question than Evvie was to hear it.

  I wonder if the brothers drew straws to see who would ask us about our needs when they spotted the feminine products. “Here,” Crewe says as he awkwardly passes the bag to me, as if it’s already contaminated by girl cooties.

  Evvie punches me as we round the corner, releasing an unexpected bout of laughter. Somehow, the overall seriousness that has defined my life thus far has been gently lifted so that even when I’m surrounded by danger and deceit, I can find silly things to laugh about.