“What do we do?” she asked me.
“Use the cows up front to stagger milk production,” I said. “These in the back can be dried off and bred. The others can be milked more often to cover for them, but that’s not really necessary. It’s more than we need here.”
“We don’t have the workers to milk more.” She pressed her lips together and looked off.
I felt a tingle of possibility. If I could be around her more, or better yet, one of the assistants, it was possible I could investigate Ovett’s tales—find out how much was true and how much was lies. And if there was some secret control panel that would set off the microchips in our bodies, maybe I could disable it.
“I can take another shift,” I said.
“You can’t work alone,” she quickly replied, then she looked at her brother. “Gallatin will help you.”
His eyes shot up to hers, and I could tell by his expression he wasn’t happy. I nodded and looked down again, trying not to frown as well. He’d only been here a few days and being her brother, the chances of him talking were slim.
“I’ll speak with Shubuta,” she said. “It’s possible we can give you more of a leadership role in the dairy.”
That made up for my former disappointment. A leadership role sounded like something that could put me in a position to do my own, independent investigation. Perhaps they’d give me a key, and I could sneak into an office after hours. Then it wouldn’t matter who I was working with. I wouldn’t need her brother to beat them.
“You there,” Cato walked over to Roxie. “Stop milking and empty your bucket. You’ll work the rows from now on.”
Roxie stood and went to the churn where Yolanda was pumping. I saw the two exchange a glance as she poured the warm, thick milk into it. Flora had just emptied her bucket into my churn, so I went back to my station and began pumping the wooden handle.
* * *
Back in the yard after lunch, Flora and I squatted near the fence. Her cheeks were definitely rosier, and I could tell she’d picked up a few pounds, but her eyes were still so glazed. It was frustrating to feel like I was spinning my wheels with her. I wasn’t having much luck keeping anyone motivated.
“I got assigned to the dairy,” I said.
She only nodded, expressionless. “So?”
“So I’m hoping I can find out what’s going on and why.” I smiled, doing my best to infuse my voice with optimism.
My friend only stared at me with her lips slightly parted. She took a breath through her nose and exhaled again through her mouth. I felt movement beside me and looked up at Yolanda who was joining us again.
“What was all that about in the barn earlier?” she asked.
I studied her. Yolanda was a big girl, but not fat. She was just stocky and thick. When we were cheerleaders, she was usually the bottom of the pyramid or toward the back, and as I looked at her now, I realized she could be a good help if it came to a fight. She was motivated, unlike anybody else it seemed. She couldn’t replace D’Lo exactly, but a determined partner was something I desperately needed now that Cleve was gone. If anything, she’d help keep my own spirits up.
“They put me on extra shifts in the dairy. I’ll be going over after lunch and in the evenings now.” I stood and looked up at the clouds, trying to make it look like we were discussing the weather and hoping we weren’t drawing attention. “With Gallatin.”
Yolanda looked away over her shoulder and muttered under her breath. “You gonna try and jump him? Knock him out?”
“No. As if.” I slid my hand over my nose to hide my mouth. “I’m gonna try and make friends. See if he’ll talk to me.”
Flora was sitting now, staring out at the yard. It was as if her mind had completely stopped. I hated when she did that.
“Besides, I’m starting to think their stories are all a bluff.” I looked down. “They keep saying they don’t want to hurt us, and they need a good workforce. What if this stuff is all mind games to keep us under control?”
I glanced up at my dark friend, and I could see she was considering my words. “Just don’t get careless. I’ve seen them act more than once.”
That got my attention. “What did you see?”
“My boyfriend Russell. He fought when they captured us. Two of them held him. One jammed a syringe...” Her voice broke off, and I saw the pain welling up in her eyes. It was the same thing that happened in the dining hall with Cleve.
She rubbed the side of her neck. “All I could do was watch and scream. They took him down right in front of me.”
My stomach was tight as she turned away, and I knew she didn’t want me to see her cry. Still, I couldn’t help watching her cross the yard, wiping her face with her hands. I bit my lip thinking about what she’d just said and imagining what it might mean. I thought of the long boxes and what was inside them.
I shook my head. That did not happen to Jackson. I would not believe it.
Chapter 7
Gallatin didn’t say a word when I arrived in the barn that evening after dinner. He was in the back stall across from the one he’d been in that morning. I didn’t say a word as I collected a pail and a stool from the closet and went to the front stall that contained a young heifer. I sat beside her and rubbed my hands before starting to work.
As I listened to the milk streaming into the pail, I rested my head against her side and inhaled her gamey scent. I used to think cows stunk, but tonight her warm animal smell combined with her big, calm body comforted me. It was something from the past that I wanted to hold, something from my future that I wasn’t letting go. Unintentionally, my eyes grew damp, and I coughed to cover my sniff. I wouldn’t let Gallatin see me crying.
I continued working until my pail was full and then went to the churn to dump it. Then I walked back to the next cow and took my place at her side. I kept my eyes on my hands the entire time, not speaking or approaching the strange guy in the back. I didn’t know what he was doing, but if he didn’t want to help, that was okay with me. Today wasn’t the day to get information, it was the day for laying groundwork. I had to bide my time and appear harmless before I could expect him to open up or let anything slip—if he even would.
Closing my eyes as I worked, I summoned a happy memory, a memory that would keep me focused on my goal, on what I was working to get back.
It was last fall, and Jackson was picking me up for school.
“Hurry up or we’re gonna be late,” he called from the kitchen.
I could hear him making racket while I struggled in my room with the zipper on my cheerleading uniform. Homecoming was the only day we had to wear uniforms to school, otherwise I only wore the silly outfit that barely covered my butt to games. And then I had my sweatpants nearby to pull back on as soon as we were done.
“This was your stupid idea,” I hollered back at him, turning my back to the mirror and tugging on my skirt again. It didn’t make any difference. My shorts still peeked out from under it. I grabbed a brush and quickly smoothed the rat’s nest that was my hair.
“I’m supposed to be full of school spirit, and I don’t wake up that way.”
“Well, dammit, Pip. Why didn’t you get up earlier?” I heard Jackson pick up his keys and walk to the door.
“I didn’t know it would take this long.”
I tied a ribbon emblazoned with our school’s mascot into the small band I’d used to pull my hair to the side. I didn’t usually wear my stringy hair down, but Star’d wanted all the cheerleaders to look the same today, and she was captain.
I dusted some powder that smelled like straw over my nose and slicked red gloss on my lips. It was sticky, but it tasted like cherries. At least my lashes were dark enough that I didn’t need mascara.
“Okay, let’s go,” I said, rushing into the kitchen where my books were waiting on the table.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Jackson’s hand drop, and I glanced up just in time to catch the stunned look on his face.
“What?” I fr
owned, looking down and then around my shoulder at my backside. “Is something wrong?”
Jackson cleared his throat. “No.” He turned away, but I noticed his hand slide across his mouth.
“What’s the matter with you?” I went over to him and grabbed his arm, turning him back to face me.
He looked at me with an expression I’d seen before. Like he’d skipped breakfast, and I was a big plate of biscuits.
“You look. Good.” His voice went lower, and my cheeks got hot.
“I’m going to change.”
“Not likely.” Jackson caught my wrist and pulled me back to him. I turned around and his lips found mine. Oh, sure, Jackson had kissed me before, lots of times, but this was one of those different kisses we’d been having lately. Lately since the beginning of summer.
His fingers slid through my hair, cradling my head as he pushed my lips apart. My mouth filled with the taste of mint, and I could smell the soap he used to shave. I reached to hold him but my fingers slipped across the soft nylon of his football jersey.
“Jackson. Stop,” I whispered, turning my face away. “We gotta get to school.”
My whole body was hot, and my heart beat wildly. I stepped back, and the way he looked at me wasn’t helping one bit. I turned away and reached up to wipe the gloss off my chin.
“Why’d you kiss me like that?” I said.
Jackson’s hand slid across my back then up and under my hair. As his fingers lightly touched my neck, I shivered.
“Hey, Pip,” he murmured, moving closer behind me. I heard the smile in his voice. “Nobody’s home but us.”
“I thought you were mad because I was making us late.”
His other hand tickled across my bare stomach at the edge of my top, but I stepped around the table to where my books still sat and quickly scooped them into my arms. I clutched them to my chest, facing him now but not meeting his gaze.
I’d been dodging this issue for months it seemed. I really didn’t want to put Jackson off or make him hurt like he said I did, but I was scared Braxton’s stories of hell fire might be right. And we were so close to getting married. I was sure we could wait just a little longer, if only to be on the safe side. I didn’t want God holding something against us or deciding he was mad at me for breaking one of his big rules.
Our farm would rely heavily on things like enough rain and freezes hitting at the right times—things that were actually called “acts of God” by the insurance guys. Us screwing around seemed like the best way to sink our chances.
Jackson picked up his keys. “You’re right. We’d better get to school.”
A baritone voice pulled me from the memory.
“Are you okay?” I looked up and Gallatin was standing right in front of me. His hair hung down over that scar on his cheek, but his other golden eye was studying my face. I could almost see that little shine in it that had made me think of a cat. I looked down and saw my milking was done.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured, picking up the pail.
“Did you work too hard? Your cheeks are red.”
Knowing I was flushed only made me blush harder, and I kept my eyes on the floor as I walked to the churn. I lifted the wooden lid and poured the milk into the base with the first batch I’d collected. I could feel his eyes still on me, but I replaced the lid and started moving the plunger up and down.
I heard him exhale as he took my stool over to the third cow. After a few moments, the hiss of milk hitting metal caused me to glance back at him. His head was against the cow’s belly, and he was working quickly to finish our additional chores. The scar across the back of his hand grew wider and narrower as his olive fist moved. He finished before I was done at the churn, but rather than bringing his pail to where I was, he went to the other area and turned his back to me.
As he worked, I studied his back. In the coveralls, it was hard to make out much about him physically, but I could see he was tall and slim like Cato. He was younger than her but it didn’t appear to be by much. He sniffed and pushed his sleeves up, and I frowned at what I saw. His arms were muscular, meaning he’d be hard to overpower, but they also showed more scars like stripes up the backs of his forearms. He was an experienced fighter, but where and why? He seemed too young to have been in any real battles, yet these injuries were clearly old.
I couldn’t spend any more time wondering because my work was done. I took the churn to the back of the barn where Oma waited to take it from me to the kitchen. As I quickly crossed to the door, the only sound was the soft thump of Gallatin’s plunger and the occasional snort of a cow. Just as I was leaving, I heard him speak.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t more help today. I’ll take two tomorrow.”
He didn’t look at me as he spoke, so my eyes moved around the barn. No one was in it but us and the cows. I nodded and then stepped out into the dark night.
The yard was empty as I crossed it fast, almost jogging back to the dorm. Once I was safely inside our sleeping area, I leaned against the wall to catch my breath and calm down. My heart was beating so fast, I thought I might burst into tears.
The pressure was getting to me, and I still didn’t have any answers. What did it all mean? Were any of the stories D’Lo and Braxton told me true? And if they were, then what? We had to wait here to see what these “aliens” would do next? I wasn’t sure I could hold up much longer.
I pressed the back of my head against the wall and inhaled the familiar smell of our quarters. A hint of bleached mildew, the lemony scent of the standard-issue soap and deodorant we were all given. It hadn’t rained since we’d been here, so the air was slightly drier than usual. Still it was hot, and the humidity was always with us.
It was quiet in the quarters except for D’Lo’s deep breathing and the sound of someone snoring that carried through the wood partition. I walked toward my bunk but stopped when I heard a sound I recognized. I’d heard it that first night I’d dreamed of Jackson. It was a sniff, followed by silence. Then tiny whimpers and another sniff. It was coming from the back corner. Adrenaline pulsed in my veins making me antsy as I crept toward the sound. It was Flora. She was crying.
Her back was to me, but I knelt beside it and reached out to smooth her hair away from her face. She jumped around, and let out a quiet squeal.
“It’s okay. It’s only me.” I said, reaching out and continuing to stroke her hair. “Why are you crying?”
“I’m not crying,” she said in a thick voice. “It’s just my nose, all the dust. It’s allergies.”
I bit my lip and didn’t answer. I knew what I’d heard, but I didn’t want to push her if she didn’t want to confide in me. I pulled her blanket back and slipped in behind her so my voice was in her ear, barely a whisper
“I’m going to get us out of here,” I said, hugging her waist. “You don’t have to be afraid.”
I felt her nod, but a quiver moved through her body. I squeezed my arm around her waist and gave her a hug. She shook harder at my gesture, and I could tell she was crying again. My own eyes grew warm and my thoughts flooded with memories of Jackson and the way things used to be. I missed my hope, my one-time chance at a better life that now felt far, far away. I was tired of being strong, tired of being the only one fighting.
“I just want to go home,” she said in a broken whisper. “I’m tired, and I miss my mamma.”
Her body pulled inward as she tried to hide another sob, and my throat hurt as I blinked back my own tears. It had been years since I’d cried for my mamma, but I remembered how it felt to crave that comfort. Jackson had taken her place for me long ago, and now he was gone.
I cleared my throat and struggled against my emotions. I had to stay strong for us.
“Shh,” I whispered, hugging her tighter. “It’s gonna be okay. I’ll get us out of here, and then we’ll find your mamma. I promise.”
Her cool hand found my forearm and squeezed. I pressed my cheek against her neck and then slipped out of the bed again. Creeping back to my
own, I scanned the room. Yolanda slept in the bottom bunk nearest mine on her back, and Roxie was above her, curled in a ball on her side.
I pulled the zipper down on my coveralls and slid my arms out. As I stood in my tank top and boxers in the darkness, I took a big pinch of the skin on my upper arm. Then I ran my fingers back and forth over it for the millionth time trying to feel any sort of plastic thread or chip or foreign object of any kind under the surface.
No matter how hard I kneaded, I didn’t feel anything but my taut muscle. I sat on my cot in the dark and thought about my plan to spy, to infiltrate the enemy. Without any knowledge, it was the only choice I had. As much as the thought of it made me tremble inside, I had to start talking to Gallatin. I had to strike up some kind of friendship with him and gain his trust. And I had to start tomorrow.
Chapter 8
Gallatin wasn’t in the barn the next day. Cato was there talking to Oma and overseeing our work, and she even took a turn on one of the churns, seeming oddly proud that moving a plunger up and down for several minutes produced a ball of butter to be skimmed out.
I finished my milking and made sure my cow had enough hay. Then I carried my pail over to the other churn. I wondered what had happened to my designated partner, but I couldn’t appear too interested at this point. Yolanda did her work and we both met up where Flora waited for us at the wooden cylinder. She didn’t show any signs of remembering our late-night chat, but she did seem calmer, more at ease. I hoped my words had helped her.
We worked steadily and silently until lunch, when we all filed into the large dining hall and sat together. Flora was on my right as always, and D’Lo and Yolanda had been taking turns filling the space to my left. Today it was Yolanda. She looked down as she ate and didn’t seem to care as I sliced and passed the majority of my steak to Flora. But just as one of the watchers moved behind us in the row, she sat up and addressed me loudly.
“I’ve seen some stringy hair on white girls, but yours has got to be the stringiest, Prentiss Puckett.”
Learning to Spy (Behind the Stars Book 2) Page 2
