by Miles, Amy
“Who will come?” I push upright and draw my legs under me. I have no way of knowing what time it is or even if it is still night. I feel stronger than I did before, but not by much.
“The soldiers.”
I blink, sure that I’ve heard her wrong. “Why would soldiers take your baby?”
“Experiments, of course. Haven’t you heard what’s going on?”
Brushing my hair back out of my face, I press my hand to my neck. Still warm but not as bad. “No,” I shake my head, feeling the ache that’s settled deep into my neck muscles. What I wouldn’t do for a good dose of pain meds right about now I looked for my pill bottle when I awoke earlier but they were gone. No doubt Alex confiscated them after I arrived. “I’ve been out of the loop.”
The soiled layers of her skirt brush against the floor as she moves toward me. She glances over at Victoria and waits until the older woman’s snores begin again. Between the old bat’s whistle snores and Sal’s foghorn there’s no way I’ll get anymore sleep tonight.
When Eva is within a couple feet of me she pauses and tucks her skirt under her legs to seal out the cold rising from the concrete. Even at this height the cold feels inescapable. “I had a younger sister before I ended up here. Her name was Claire. Sweetest little face you ever saw.” Her smile wanes. She clasps her hands in her lap. Strands of hair fall about her face, concealing her from sight. I get the feeling that’s exactly what she needs at the moment.
“Mom and dad never planned to have a second child. They called it a miracle, but I think it was an accident. I never really minded that Claire was doted on. I guess a part of me was excited about the idea of my son having someone close to his age.”
Tears swim in her eyes as she looks up. She wipes them away and offers me a sad, pained smile. “Before all of this I used to go pick her up from daycare. I wasn’t able to go to school anymore because of my pregnancy, so I offered to be on babysitting duty.”
She falls silent for a moment. New tears trail down her cheeks but she doesn't brush these away. “About two weeks ago I went to pick her up and she was gone.”
“Gone?”
Pale, thin fingers fumble at the neckline of her dress. I watch as she grasps a thin chain and draws out a small golden cross. She holds it between her fingers and closes her eyes. “I could see blood seeping out from under the front door of the daycare. It stained the concrete of the first step. I didn't know what to do. I was scared but couldn’t just walk away. I pounded on the door for a while but there was no answer.”
She pauses and stares at her upturned hands, as if the blood was still on them. “Finally someone heard me yelling. A neighbor from down the street, I think. He broke the window and unlocked the door.”
Her voice catches. “Mrs. Spurneky, the owner, fell out onto my feet when we opened the door. Her throat had been slit from one side to the other. I still remember her eyes…”
I take a deep breath as I fight not to picture my own mother’s death. To remember the fear and the sounds. “Then what happened?”
Her fingers quake as she continues. “We found three other bodies. All women I knew as teachers from my sister’s class. Each one had a look of shock on their face. Gun shots to the forehead and chest. That neighbor rushed out of there so fast you’d have thought there was a gunman on his tail. I told myself that he was going for help but no one ever came. He just bailed on me.”
“I searched the entire building and couldn't find a single child. I’d guess there were over thirty that went there every day. All gone.”
“If no one was there, then how did you know it was soldiers that took your sister?” I ask.
Watery eyes rise to meet mine. Her lower lip trembles. “I found one of their radios. Must have been left behind. I turned it on but all I heard was static. When I found my way back outside I noticed a footprint in the edge of the blood trail. I’m sure it was a combat boot.”
When she falls silent this time I let it sink in. I don’t want to speak any more. I don’t want to hear any more tales of how messed up our world has become. How could a grown man run away and leave a helpless pregnant girl all alone? How could soldiers break into a preschool and steal children? And for what purpose?
“Did that happen around here?”
“No.” She wipes at her nose. “I’m from Ohio. After we lost Claire and things started to get weird, my mom sent me to visit my Aunt Edith.”
“Did you find her?”
Evangeline shakes her head. “I was on Alex’s plane when we were rerouted here. When the stewardesses took off and left me alone, Alex found me. He took me in, kept me safe.”
I nod, finally understanding why she is determined to see Alex as a good man. “Well, it looks like he’s done right by you so far.”
She offers me a tiny smile. “I should probably get some rest.”
“Yeah.” I lie down as she crawls back to her bed. It seems like the easier option for her rather than standing. I listen as she settles down. It only takes a few moments before her breathing grows slow and steady.
I glance toward the door, the only exit that I’ve discovered since arriving. Maybe I could pick the lock without anyone hearing, and maybe I could sneak out onto the street and find my bearings, but not yet. As desperate as I am to leave, I also have to be smart about it. The only reason Alex got the better of me was because I was weak and vulnerable from illness. I won’t make that same mistake again.
FIVE
I miss the sun. Miss its warmth and false cheer. I miss how it chases away the shadows and almost makes me forget all of the darkness around me.
For three days I have been stuck here. Three long, endless days without any hint from the outside world.
Despite my prolonged captivity, my relationship with Evangeline has bloomed, far more than I should have allowed. Her laughter is soft, her humor sweet and innocent. For a girl who has obviously had a rough go of things recently, her sunny disposition seems like a precious trait. One that I could probably use a bit more of, if I were honest with myself.
As the days passed, I found myself protecting her from Victoria’s barbs. Eva would always brush it off, claiming that Victoria didn’t really mean it, but I know better. I’ve met women like her. Women who get their jollies by lording over younger women, pointing out their faults with the express purpose of making themselves feel lofty, still important.
During one of my chats with Eva over a lukewarm pot of bland tasting soup, I discovered that old Vicky is a retired high school science teacher. My initial impression of her was spot on. She is rude, harsh and a no-nonsense sort of person whose greatest weakness is having no clue that no one wants her around. I still haven’t figured out how she fits into the group...or even how the group was formed to begin with.
Salvador Jenkins has been unofficially dubbed ‘Sleazy Sal’ in my books. One of those guys you know are trying to work out a situation to benefit themselves. Eva told me he used to be a used car salesman. I wonder why that doesn’t surprise me.
I watch Sal like a hawk when he comes near Eva. I don’t like the way he watches her as she moves. It’s not an entirely lustful gaze but it’s certainly an inappropriate one for a girl her age and in her condition.
Devon is a prick. No way around that fact. He rubbed me the wrong way my first day here and has been grating my nerves ever since. Whenever Alex is around, he manages to tone down Devon’s strong personality, but if I stick around long enough we are gonna clash hard.
Alex is a wild card. One that I’m still trying to decipher.
Other than Evangeline, I suppose I trust Alex most. Though he’s a bit cocky, he seems decent enough. He cares for Eva. I’ve watched how he tries to help her whenever he can, bearing her burden of chores without complaint.
A soft moan draws me out of my musings. I turn to look at Eva, rising to go to her side but she motions me back. “I’m fine. Really.”
That’s the third time she’s said those exact words in the last thirty mi
nutes. Each time she does, it doesn’t help to convince me. The signs of her progressing labor increase. The pains started nearly three hours ago but she told no one. Only bit her lip and forced a smile. She may be sweet, but that girl’s got iron in her too.
I admire her. In spite of her silent throes of agony, she remains a hard worker. Eva sits quietly in the corner of the office, peeling carrots with a glorified butter knife. Victoria sits nearby, plunging her fingernails into a potato to dig out the eyes that have begun to grow. I’m not really sure where the provisions came from, especially ones that are moderately fresh. Alex must have gone on another supply run.
I’ve learned not to ask questions that I have no hope of getting an answer to. That doesn’t mean I’m unobservant though. I watch and wait, learning my companions’ intentions.
None of the members are related. None seem to have known each other prior to the week before and yet here they are. Every time I try to speak to Eva about it she goes tight lipped and I’m beginning wonder if she wasn’t the only stray Alex picked up at the airport.
Their accents don't seem to fit with the Midwest. Alex’s lack of any discernable accent makes sense I guess, because he’s a pilot. I’d peg him as a California guy, myself. Eva has a bit of a northern clip to her words that would match up fairly well with her Ohio lineage, but I’d bet tonight’s dinner that one of her parents were from Boston. Only Devon Meeder, the Peter Pan quoting, thinks he’s in charge of everybody guy who made the mistake of thinking he’s the boss, sounds Midwestern. He fits right in.
It’s my guess that he’s the one who brought everyone here to this factory. He seems to have an understanding of the area. The real question is why he chooses to linger when he should be running. My gut tells me there is something here in the city that calls to him. I’d love to find out what that something is.
Glancing over at Eva, I watch as her fingers curl into her palms. Her breathing hitches, her eyes close as she presses back into the wall. I capture Alex’s knowing gaze. He says nothing though he is just as aware of her condition as I am. Why else would he have joined in with the peeling party? That’s girls’ work, according to Sal.
Casting a cautious glance at the closed door to my left, I hear voices on the other side. Devon and Sal are within. In the three days since I have been here I have hardly glimpsed a sliver of sight into that room. They are hiding something. Of that I am sure.
There was never any official vote for me to join the group. No welcome party or hugs all around. I stayed, biding my time. Sooner or later the men will have to leave. When they do, I’ve already decided that I’m getting Eva out of here. Victoria is on her own for all I care!
With each day I grow stronger. My ribs ache less. My fever has been gone for three days and my stamina returns. If it comes down to a fight I stand a good chance against Sal and Victoria. Devon, though obviously a once polished businessman, looks like he’s spent his fair share of time on the streets. He has the swagger and the large gold nugget bling on his fingers to prove it. The one kicker is Alex. I’m just not sure which way he would sway.
Sooner or later the group will be forced to move on. The food supply must be running thin. The last of the vegetables at Victoria’s feet have begun to wilt. Clean water has grown scarce. We’ve taken to melting some of the icicles that formed overnight in a pot near the corner.
Burst water pipes have left the drinking water in danger of contamination. I’m not nearly thirsty enough to risk it, but I’d be happy to let Sal test it for me.
A hiss of breath returns my attention to Eva. I tense, poised to rush to her side but she offers me a pained smile, shaking her head again. I ease back and count the seconds in my head. Her contractions are only five minutes apart now.
“Aren’t you done yet, girl?”
I glance up to see Victoria hovering over Eva like a mother hen, too dense to see what is right in front of her thick lenses. “You’d think we had plenty of gas to spare for cooking,” she clucks, jutting her chin toward the gas lantern sputtering near her feet. A small pot of water struggles to boil.
I rise to go to Eva’s side, but Alex beats me to it. “Ease off, Vicky. She’s not feeling well.”
Victoria pushes her glasses back up her nose and shoves aside the frizzy strands of hair falling into her eyes. Her stern gaze narrows on Eva’s quivering lip. “Is she sick? Did that blasted girl give her something?”
“I’ve got a name, you know?” I toss my peeled onion into the sack at my feet and rise.
Alex raises a hand to motion that I remain back. I begrudgingly stay put, but not without shooting the old bat a lethal glare first. “Why don’t I finish up for you, Eva, huh? You need to get some rest.”
“Yes.” She nods and hands him the bunch of carrots. As he takes it from her grasp I realize blood stains her palms, her nail beds painted crimson. I grit my teeth at the evidence of her torment. She is young, scared, and practically alone, and I won't stand by and watch Victoria poking and prodding her.
“Coddling won’t fix a lazy child.” Victoria tsks and stirs the soup. “Back in my day—”
“Shut her up, Alex, or I will!” I wrap my arm around Eva, helping her make her way across the room, past the Victoria’s pot of murky water soup. A chicken based stock, or so Alex claims. It doesn’t smell like any chicken I’ve ever had before.
Eva’s steps are slow and cautious. I glance back at Alex over my shoulder. His posture is rigid, his elbows digging into his thighs as he leans over and steeples his hands before his mouth, whispering to Victoria. He’d better be putting her in her place.
Soon everyone will know that Eva’s in labor. Then the screaming will start. I need to know if Alex is with me on this.
What will happen if he’s not? Will Devon gag Eva and force her to endure her child’s birth in silence? He is already wound tighter than a spring. He paces every time he enters the room, like an animal wild and caged. His own inner demons have begun to eat at him. Sooner or later he will snap. I don’t want Eva anywhere near him when that happens.
“Won’t be long now,” I whisper in her ear as I ease her to the floor. I gave her my thin mattress during the night to try to help ease the ache in her back. It didn’t help much, but it’s all I could do.
“We should tell Devon,” Eva says, her head lolling to the side. I mop her brow with the back of my hand. Sweat clings to her rosy cheeks. Her eyes are glossy, her lips pale.
“No.” I shake my head. “Let Alex take care of him while I look after you.”
A ghost of a smile touches her lips as she closes her eyes. “I’m glad you’re here.”
My throat clenches as she closes her eyes. I clasp her hand in mine, allowing her to rest for the remaining two minutes she has left before the pain builds once more.
All too soon her breath hitches and her fingers clamp down on my hand. I ride through the pain with her, drawing inward to ignore the loss of circulation. I vow, no matter what I will stay by her side as my mother never did for me.
“That’s it,” I whisper as her grip slowly loosens. A breath of pain slips past her lips as her body relaxes once more.
“Laziness, that’s what it is.” I look up to see Victoria pacing nearby. Her hands flutter before her, as they have been prone to do of late. Her gaze seems unfocused, her recent bout of insomnia starting to take its toll on her.
“Do you ever shut up?” The woman just never stops.
“Nothing wrong with stating a fact, dear,” she responds with a syrupy sweet tone that makes me want to throttle her. “The truth never hurt anyone.”
“It will when I rearrange your face,” I mutter under my breath, eliciting a soft chuckle from Eva. I wink at her and then watch as Alex frowns and crosses to exit through the door. I wait to hear the tell-tale click of the lock but it doesn’t come. His preoccupation was the first mistake I’ve seen him make.
“I’ll be right back.” I pat Eva’s hand and rise, heading straight after him.
“Wa
it!” Victoria shouts, bustling up behind me. “Where are you going?”
“In there.”
“You can’t! You’re not permitted.” Her hand feels cold and wet when it lands upon my arm. The gas burner isn't wasted on scrubbing water for the vegetables.
“Don’t touch me.” I shove her off and place my hand on the doorknob to open it but jump back when Devon appears in the doorway, his broad frame filling the space.
“What’s going on out here?” His gaze falls on me, standing less than a palm’s width from his chest. “Well?”
I step back, not the least bit intimidated by him, but his limited bathing opportunities has left him with a funky smell. “Eva is going to need supplies. It’s time.”
His jaw tightens as he looks beyond me to see Eva curled up in the corner. A soft moan escapes her and another wave of pain has begun to build. “No. We can’t risk it. Sal said he saw men on the streets below. Those gangs have moved into the area. If they find out we are here, we’re all done for.”
From the corner of my eye I see Victoria nodding in agreement. His callous words leave a bitter tang in my mouth as I step forward once more. “Eva is about to have a baby and that means things are going to get pretty nasty around here. Blood. Slime. And God knows what else is going to be coming. I don’t have a clue how to deliver a baby, and I’m betting you don’t either. The least we can do is to find some clean towels, boil more water, scavenge blankets, diapers, food, and heck, even a doctor if we can find one.”
Devon’s eyes narrow. “Those are all luxuries that we can no longer afford.”
“Luxuries?” My anger tips dangerously close to the edge. My pulse pounds in my ears as I rise up to meet him as close to eye to eye as my shorter height allows. “That baby and Eva may die without them.”
When his shoulders begin to rise into a shrug I snap. I slam my fist into his jaw hard enough to crack my knuckle. Pain radiates through my hand.
