Redaction: Dark Hope Part III

by Linda Andrews

  “Mrs. Bancroft needs to learn to hold her piggies and horsies.” Robertson lifted it before she could. He paused to make sure she was looking before making the naked woman on his biceps wiggle suggestively.

  Was she supposed to find that sexy or a reminder that he preferred curvy, well-endowed women?

  “Piggies and horsies.” She dried her damp hands on her jeans. “What are you, ten?”

  “A perfect ten.” He winked.

  “You should soak your head in that bucket before you pour it down the chute.”

  The telephone rang just as he opened his mouth.

  Manny hustled from the kitchen, wiping his hands on his stained apron. Skirting the stacks of white dishes growing from the serving table, he headed for the yellow phone hanging on a stone pillar behind the buffet. “I’ll get it.”

  “Why would we get it?” Robertson whispered in her ear.

  His warm breath tickled her neck. Goosebumps raced down her arm. He had to know how he affected her. “Just dump the bucket and grab the slops.”

  “Your wish is my command.” Bowing at the waist, he crossed to the storeroom tucked into a corner of the dining hall.

  Maybe she should flirt back. Sunnie shoved chairs under tables as she walked. That would show him. She blew her bangs out of her eyes and followed him into the kitchen. Not a good idea. Somehow, someway, she’d be the one who got hurt.

  “Hello?” Manny untangled the knots in the long yellow cord.

  After checking to make sure her guard was safely out of sight, she lifted a stack of dishes off a stainless-steel table. Her muscles wobbled and pain shot up her back. Okay, that was heavier than it looked. She set them back down with a clatter then picked up half a stack.

  “Sure. I’ll get him. Mr. Robertson?” Manny’s shout bounced off the kitchen ceiling. “Phone.”

  Sunnie stopped. Gravy sloshed over her fingers. Why would someone be calling Robertson?

  “Be there in a minute.” Her guard hung the empty bucket on a peg jutting from the wall and tugged on the wagon handle. The semi-liquid slops sloshed inside the blue fifty-gallon drums as he pulled it.

  She hustled to the sink and set the plates in a cleared spot on the stainless-steel counter. Could something have happened to Aunt Mavis?

  Carrying a full stack of dishes, Manny joined her.

  “Who’s on the phone?”

  “Don’t know.” He eyed the sink.

  Like she believed that. “Manny, please, is it about my aunt?”

  “I don’t know. Really, I don’t.” He elbowed her dishes to the side, making room for his load.

  She propped her hip against the sink. “Would you tell me if you did?”

  “Yes.” Reaching to the top, he removed the first dish and added it to the hot water filling the bucket in the sink. “Now move. I have dishes to wash.”

  “Robertson here.” After a quick wink, her guard turned his back to her and faced the empty dining hall. The wagon rolled to a stop next to the column.

  Geez, he was as bossy as her brother used to be. For once, the thought wasn’t a sucker-punch. She lowered her voice. “Do you want me to get the rest of my stack?”

  The half-pile of plates was conveniently located near the phone.

  “Shh.” Manny scrubbed the rag over the plate before dipping it into the rinse-water bucket. “If you’re quiet, you can hear the conversation.”

  Sunnie smiled. Just like her brother. Maybe she could adopt him.

  “Yes, sir. But I—- Of course. Yes, sir. I understand.” Robertson slammed the receiver into its cradle and hung his head.

  Taking a deep breath, she crept up behind him. “Is everything all right?”

  He stiffened and let his hands fall to his side. “There’s been an attack.”

  “An attack? What kind of attack? Is it Aunt Mavis?”

  “No.” Robertson frowned at her. “Nothing like that. Look, General Lister wants me to…investigate.”

  Uh-huh. She shoveled enough horse poo to recognize it when someone said it. Unfortunately, she couldn’t question him while Manny was about. “Okay. Well, I’m not going to wait here for your return. Those animals need their breakfast too.”

  He scrubbed his hands down his face. “You haven’t recovered enough to haul the slops by yourself.”

  “I’ll help her.” Manny tugged on his apron strings. “Anything is better than doing the dishes.”

  Sunnie hiccoughed a laugh. The guy must never have cleaned up after horses before.

  “You won’t leave her.” Robertson drilled his finger into Manny’s shoulder. “Got it?”

  Manny backed up a step. “Got it, man. Got it.”

  Sunnie milked her fingers. Okay, now she was worried. Was it possible she was a target? The dead chicken would have gotten her banished along with Aunt Mavis.

  “Stay with Saldana until I collect you.” Robertson snapped his fingers.

  Sunnie stiffened. What was she, a dog? She stifled her rebellion. There’d been an attack. If Aunt Mavis was the target, Sunnie could be used as leverage.

  “Sunnie. I need you to stay with people at all times—people we trust, understand?”

  “Yes. I understand.” Geez, she wasn’t stupid.

  Robertson stepped toward her then retreated. “I’ll be back.”

  Be safe. She watched him until he turned the corner. Gone. Okay. She could handle this. She combed her hair out of her eyes. Staying busy would help. “Do you want to finish the dishes or feed the animals first?”

  “Animals.” Manny set his folded apron on the serving rack. “I really am tired of doing dishes.”

  “Don’t you get any help?” She followed him to the phone and the two fifty-five gallon drums wedged into a Red Flyer wagon. Bits of grass clung to the oversized wheels.

  “Rini, Beth and some other girls help with serving, warming and clearing the tables.”

  That sounded sexist to her. Why couldn’t they find any boys to do those jobs? She hoped no one assigned her a stupid girly job.

  Manny grabbed the handle and raised the tongue. “You know I stole a wagon like this to haul supplies during the Redaction.”

  He leaned back and pulled. The wagon didn’t budge.

  “Is this it?” She braced her hands on the drum, lodged her foot against a bump in the floor and waited for him to try again.

  “Nah. It had weenie tires.” He wiped his hands on his pants then adjusted his hold. “This one has monster tires.”

  His muscles bunched. She pushed. The strain blazed along her back and down her thighs.

  The wagon inched forward.

  It was going to be a long journey.

  *

  “There you are!” Mrs. Bancroft strode across the pasture, her injured arm against her stomach. “Oh, dear, where is Robertson?”

  “He was called away.” Sunnie set her hand on her chest and dragged air into her lungs. Hauling slops was never this hard with Robertson.

  Manny swiped at the sweat dripping down his temples.

  “Sunnie, you sit right down and rest.” Mrs. Bancroft muscled Manny out of the way and heaved on the wagon with her good arm. It eased forward. “This young man and I will take the food to the animals.”

  Manny looked at her. “But I promised….”

  “Go on.” Waving him away, she collapsed onto a boulder. “I’ll wait here until you get back.”

  “Come on.” Mrs. Bancroft shouted over the rattling wagon. “Those piggies are hungry.”

  With a backward glance, Manny disappeared into the next tunnel.

  Sunnie slid to the ground. How was she going to shovel poo after the last half hour? She wasn’t. She was going to sit right here and wait for her partner. Plucking a three-leaf clover, she twirled it in her fingers. Left. Right. The leaves blurred into one.

  She tossed it away. Okay, this is boring. What was she supposed to do until Robertson returned? Think of ways to flirt with him? She scratched her nose. Nah, then she wouldn’t have anything t
o dream about tonight.

  The camera!

  She sat up straight. Aunt Mavis had wanted her to pick up a camera from the museum. The collection of belongings was only a couple of tunnels over. Heck, they’d even passed it on their way here. She eyed the empty passage.

  She’d promised Manny she’d stay.

  But they were going to take forever. And Mrs. Bancroft would rope him into helping her empty the buckets.

  Sunnie chewed on her bottom lip. She could just slip out and be back in a jiffy. It should be safe enough. No one ever went into the museum.

  Best of all, no one would have to know.

  She pushed to her feet and swayed a little. Besides, hadn’t she read somewhere that moving was the best thing to prevent sore muscles? She limped across the hall and into the tunnel. Her footsteps filled the space between dripping water.

  Two rights and three caverns later she stood at the entrance to the museum. Holding her ear to the canvas door, she listened. Just as she thought, no one was here. Batting the clammy fabric aside, she stepped into the room. Emergency lights dangled from the thirty-foot dome but the shelves created pockets of darkness.

  The faint aroma of spicy cologne with floral perfume undertones laced the air. A bowl of glittering car keys overflowed a crystal punch bowl near her feet. People sure had taken some funny things when they’d left their houses. Of course, they hadn’t known it was the end.

  Or that they would die.

  She ran her fingers over a wedding veil, careful to avoid the tears in the netting. Picking up a blue baby bootie, she set it on the shelf next to its twin. Strategic folds isolated a smiling couple in a glossy photo from the woods behind them. Was anyone alive who remembered these people?

  Or were they the lucky ones, joining their family and friends on the other side?

  She headed to the rear of the room. Twenty-feet in, backpacks lined the floor like tombstones without graves. A pop star smiled at her from a bubblegum pink one. White skulls and flames brightened a jet-black one. Walking sticks protruded from a navy one. A spider spun her web on a green one.

  Taking a deep breath, she picked up the navy one. Someone into hiking might have a camera. Maybe they’d even written their name inside. If so, then she would remember them.

  And they would have mattered.

  By some twist of fate, they would help educate those who inherited this afterworld.

  Pinching the toggle, she unzipped the bag. A book tumbled to the floor. She picked it up, smoothed the glossy cover. Guide to North American Song Birds. Not exactly her first choice of reading. Flipping the pages, she searched for a name on the inside flap. None. Maybe it would be written on the camera.

  She tugged on the bundle of fabric lodged inside. It came free in a burst of green and gold—Mardi Gras beads. Okay, that was just weird. Sunnie raked up the handful of strands and stuffed them into her pocket. Her room could use a little color.

  She shook out the fabric. Sleeves slapped her knee. A stylized wildcat stared back at her from the jacket. She’d have to be desperate to wear an U. of A. anything. She checked the pockets. Cold plastic brushed her fingertips and she pulled it out.

  Chewing gum.

  Holy crap! She glanced over her shoulder. Two pieces was hardly enough to share. She shook out a piece then shoved it back in. Later, when she could enjoy it. Nothing in the other pockets. Wadding up the jacket, she set it to the side and reached inside the backpack.

  Come on, let there be a camera. She scraped bottom before bumping into something hard. She grabbed it and pulled it out. The three-by-six inch case was just the perfect size. Her heart beat a little faster when she opened it.

  The shiny silver body of a camera emerged.

  Yes! She pressed the power button. Nothing. That’s okay. She could find batteries. After closing the case, she repacked the items. Should she see if she could find another?

  “What are we supposed to do with all this shit?”

  Sunnie froze at the man’s question. Crap. Crap. Crap. She didn’t recognize the voice.

  “Safeguard it so we can sell it.” Another man answered. “We’ll be rich.”

  Rich? Money wasn’t worth anything. You couldn’t even eat it. She looped the camera case through her belt. Maybe she could get out of here without them seeing her. Hunching over, she crept toward the stacks of crates on the right.

  “If no one wants it when it’s free, why would they pay for it?”

  “Because it would be theirs and no one else could have it.” The first man chuckled. “It’s the rise of the haves and have-nots.”

  She peeked around the crate. Nobody down this aisle. Fingers skimming the ground, she raced for the aisle. Her lungs burned after a few yards. A cough tickled her throat. Don’t think about it. Don’t even think about it. She had to get out of here, then she could tell Robertson or Manny.

  “You do want to be one of the haves, don’t you?”

  She slowed as she approached the end. One more corner then twenty feet or so to the door. She was almost there. Pressed against the crate, she caught her breath. Hopefully, the men would walk deeper into the room. Please God, let her get away.

  “Don’t you?”

  Sunnie leaned over to check again and slammed her face into someone’s thighs.

  “Hey!” Fingers dug into her scalp and tangled with her hair.

  Pain raced across her head as he pulled her to her feet.

  “Let me go!” She grabbed at the hands holding her. Tears blurred her vision. She had to get away. Somehow. Some way. “Let me go!”

  She slammed into a warm body. An arm wrapped around her waist, pinning her.

  “Now, I would pay a fair bit of gold for an hour with this piece of ass.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “I’ve never played hooky before.”

  Audra covered her smile with her hand. The lights became brighter as they approached the pastures. She’d have to consider a field trip. Her students would love the animals. “We’re teachers not students.” She hooked her arm through Tina’s. “We can’t play hooky.”

  Tina shrugged. “We’re not in school where we’re supposed to be. I think that is the definition of hooky.”

  “Our students won’t miss us.” Audra checked the colored markings on the two tunnels before her. Red led to the pastures. Green to Section Seven. She shuddered. She did not want to go there. Not after listening to some of her student’s stories. “My mom and Principal Dunn are teaching them ballroom dancing. They’ll have fun.”

  “What universe do you live in?”

  “You sound like Eddie.” Audra jumped the channel funneling water down the tunnel.

  “They might have fun if they could bump and grind to some Hip Hop gangsta.” Tina splashed through the water. “Why are we going to the museum, anyway?”

  “I told you. Doctor Spanner approved my documentary idea.” With luck, Audra might be able to shoot a little extra and showcase everything their leader had done. The nerve of Mr. Benedict accusing a fine lady like that of crime and corruption. He should be ashamed.

  “So why didn’t she give you a camera?” Water squished from Tina’s shoes leaving a trail on the rock.

  “I’m sure she will, but she has a lot to deal with. This just takes something off her to-do list.” They turned down the next passage. Merciful heavens, had the place always been this far away? She hoped her mother didn’t run out of dance steps. “We should all pitch in. Many hands make light work.”

  Tina changed topics. “Oh, we missed the introduction of Mavis’s opponent. Gavin something. Apparently, he’s quite yummy.”

  “You’re not seriously considering voting for someone because he’s handsome, are you?”

  “No of course not. But it doesn’t hurt to look.”

  Eddie would probably have a different opinion. But then she tended not to notice other men when he was around. “I’m sure we have plenty of time to look at this Gavin before the election. Then again, Mrs. Rodriguez
is going to ask for an early ballot.” Audra glanced at her friend. “Maybe we should, too.”

  “I don’t think we need to. Everyone we know is going to vote for Mavis.”

  Audra’s mouth dropped open. She couldn’t have heard her friend right. “We have to vote. It is not just our civic responsibility, but we must show those…those thugs that we believe in our leaders and what we’re trying to build here.”

  “Okay. Okay.” Tina raised her hands. “I’ll vote. Twice, if you want.”

  Now she was just being silly.

  “Let me go!”

  Audra stopped and looked behind her. The cry had come from up ahead.

  Tina brushed her shoulder. “Someone is in trouble.”

  “I think we should sample her wares. Make sure the men get what they’re gonna be paying for.”

  Rape. They were talking rape. Her nails bit into her palms. Not on her watch.

  “Don’t touch me!”

  Definitely up ahead. Maybe even the museum.

  “Come on.” Audra sprinted forward.

  Tina tucked her black hair under her collar. “Don’t you think we should call for help?”

  And listen to the poor woman be abused? As Eddie would say, “Not going to happen. But you can call if we pass a phone.”

  They rounded the corner. The white sheet of the museum was partially open.

  “Damn, Cole. The bitch bit me.”

  Tina slapped her arm. She held up two fingers and mouthed the word, ‘two.’

  So they weren’t outnumbered. They could do this. They had to. Whoever was in there needed them. “There’s two of us. You take the short one.”

  “How do you know there is a short one?”

  “There’s always a short one.” Audra plunged through the curtain. “Take your hands off her.”

  A brown-haired girl struggled in the grip of one man.

  A shorter man whipped around to face them. “What have we got here?”

  Audra shifted to the side. Relaxed into her training. She could do this. “Let her go.”

  Tina slid to a stop next to her. Hands raised, ready to strike and one foot braced behind her. “We won’t tell you again.”