After a while, they approached another brick wall that stretched in both directions. This wall, however, was much shorter than the one surrounding the entire city, and on top of it was a barbwire fence. They passed through another gate where they were quickly scanned, verified, and let through. In this new area, solar fields in shallow concrete basins ran along both sides of the road. Shiny square panels reflected the sun. On the other side were actual dirt streets with modest shacks and a single power line strung along poles. It was clearly a step up from being a dreg, even though there were still plenty of decrepit people around.
Eventually they reached two steel-girder bridges that crossed over a river. One bridge was for the train and the other was for the mass of people going back and forth from the city. Joe and Mary had to wait in line behind other wagons and carts that were being cleared through the checkpoint ahead. Going in the other direction, out of the city, were wagons full of dirty men, women, and even children. The whites of their eyes shined against their darkened faces. Most of them never looked up. Instead, their heads drooped and bobbed with the rhythm of the wagons. That could be him, Joe thought.
Chapter 24
At the checkpoint, a guard strode up to the window and said something odd to Joe. He said, “Visor down.” Joe didn’t understand. He was about to say “What?” when a pair of red-tinted goggles dropped over the guard’s eyes from somewhere inside his helmet. Then dials encircling the red lenses spun around, back and forth, in quick jerks as if trying to focus. After the guard said, “Cleared,” and the visor shot back inside his helmet, Joe reckoned it was some kind of scanning device.
Moments later, they were diverted into a fenced area where a bunch of wagons with horses, mules, and even a bisox were parked. More guards with dogs were roaming around and randomly checking wagons, so Joe parked as far away from them as possible in the hope that they wouldn’t get to them. Even with the safe passage through the gate, Joe felt as if they had an aura of suspicion around them, as if the authorities could tell they were up to no good. He guessed as long as they had the diesel he was going to feel that way. He just had to accept it.
The parking lot was next to a huge building with thick pillars in front. It was the “Immunization and Verification Processing Center.” Another guard steered them up the steps and into a large atrium with a vaulted ceiling. Painted on the wall directly in front of them was a gigantic Guardian symbol. Apparently they didn’t want you to forget who ran things around there. They also didn’t want you to forget that armed security was everywhere, and you needed to stay in your place. Below the symbol to the left was the word “men” in black lettering, and to the right was the word “women” in orange lettering. Thick black and orange arrows pointed down to a row of doors where people entered.
“Through those doors for sanitation and immunization,” a guard said.
Joe turned to Mary. “You have to go over there. It’s just a shower and delousing. That’s what Frank said. And you know he doesn’t lie. He said it was nothing to worry about.”
She didn’t budge.
“I have to go over here,” he said.
When he moved away, she latched onto his sleeve.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I’ll see you in a minute.”
He led her over to a door beneath an orange arrow and pushed it open.
“Go in.”
She hesitated. “You promise?” she asked.
“I promise. You’ll be fine, and I’ll be on the other side waiting for you.”
After she finally went through the door, Joe hustled to the men’s door. He wanted to get done as quickly as possible so he’d be waiting for Mary just like he promised. He stripped off his clothes and laid them on a conveyor belt that whisked them away. Then he went through a steamed-over glass door into a large shower room where he was sprayed with some kind of chemical. He wasn’t expecting that, and he hoped it didn’t alarm Mary when she got sprayed.
He hurried to a shower pod that immediately doused him with water before some brushes shot out of the wall and scrubbed him as the floor turned in a slow circle. When it was done, he raced through a heat blower that dried him and then he walked out the door. He quickly put on his clothes, which for some reason had a faint rotten egg smell to them. Finally, he burst into a dingy aqua-blue room. He hoped he had finished before Mary and she wasn’t someplace else scared and confused. He waited anxiously for a few minutes until at last she appeared. He was happy, and a bit surprised, to see she’d made it through the process unscathed.
“See,” he said, “what did I tell you?”
Yet another guard shuffled them into a long bright hall. Joe was stunned by the whiteness of everything—the walls, the floor, the ceiling, the chairs, the tables, the beds. Even the people working there were clad in white. The doctors wore long white coats and round mirrors on their foreheads. The nurses wore white dresses or pants and white hats with bright red crosses on them. All the whiteness stood out against the dingy groups of people being treated. On both sides of the hall were inoculation and examination stations. Some of them had white curtains drawn around them, while other stations were open for anyone to see.
What startled Joe was that some people were completely naked. An old woman with saggy flesh stood as a doctor looked at her backside. Joe realized that they were probably going to do the same to Mary, especially since she was pregnant. He didn’t want her to suffer that kind of indignity, so he told himself he had to make sure the curtain was closed. If he had to he’d make a big ruckus and hopefully they’d be taken to an isolated place. If that meant a punishment for him, then so be it. It was the least he could do for her. Only then did he think about the possibility that the examination could reveal that Mary wasn’t breech. But before he could dwell on it much, they were led away into an exam station where the nurse promptly closed the privacy curtain. That was easy.
The nurse turned out to be a very chipper and bubbly person.
“How are you two doing?” the nurse asked. She smiled and Joe noticed how white and straight her teeth were; they didn’t look real. “Congrats on the baby. First time in the big city, huh?” She removed a scanner from her pocket. “Says here your baby is breech. That’s an easy fix. We could probably do it here, but it’s so darn busy we can only do things that can’t wait. Like emergencies, you know? We’ll get you set up with one of the public wards, probably number 3. There will be a wait, but there are some good people there.”
The whole time she talked, she prepped everything for the immunization.
“Alright then, just a few pokes, a blood draw, and DNA for your veritags.”
She was about to start with Mary when Joe stopped her and said that he would go first.
“What a gentleman,” the nurse said.
He wanted Mary to see him go through it before her so she wouldn’t be as scared. As it turned out, she was just fine. He, on the other hand, was the problem.
The nurse picked up the syringe, flicked it with her finger, and then positioned it so the needle was pointed at his shoulder. Joe watched it all, but at the very last second, as the needle drove toward his arm, he turned his head away and closed his eyes. The sting of the needle wasn’t as bad as the burning sensation when she injected the vaccines. He looked at Mary to show her everything would be fine. Then the nurse pricked his finger, and it was even more painful than the shot. As much as he tried to hide that fact, his lip curled. It didn’t help that Mary giggled, which he didn’t think was very nice, especially since he went first for her sake.
He didn’t hold it against her. When it was her turn, he told her not to worry and it would all be over soon.
The nurse helped too. She said, “Aren’t you a pretty girl? You have such a glow, and I can see that pretty blonde hair hanging down from underneath your hat.”
Joe expected Mary to flinch or cringe or make a sound like he had. He knew it had to hurt because it hurt him, but if it did, she didn’t show the slightest sign. Likewise, she m
ade no reaction when the nurse pricked her middle finger and drew a bubble of blood into a vial. Joe was amazed at how calmly she took the pain.
After the nurse finished, another guard led them into a crowded hall where people were lined up in front of six desks. On the wall behind them was the phrase “Security is Sacrifice” above yet another huge Guardian Party symbol. A row of guards stood below it. Many more roamed between the lines of people and directed them where to go. Some guards wore the visors with the red lenses. One guard, who didn’t have a visor, poked Joe with the muzzle of his rifle and pointed to the far line. He grabbed Mary’s bony hand and pulled her along. Ahead of them near the row of desks, Joe heard an occasional yelp and squeal. As they got closer, he saw people being injected with verification tags, a process that evidently caused some pain.
When it was their turn, they stepped up to the desk. The Verification Officer didn’t even glance at them as he said, “Wrists.”
With a pair of tweezers he tore the temp-tags off. The sound of them coming off was like the sound of ripping paper. What Joe didn’t expect was the delayed pain. It felt like he had been singed with a hot coal. He flinched and pulled his arm back, but Mary hadn’t moved a muscle.
“Remove your hat, miss,” the VC said.
Joe turned to Mary. “Take off your hat, just for a second,” he said.
“I don’t have all day,” the VC added.
Joe reached for her hat, but she yanked it off before he touched it. The VC held up a wand that scanned their faces with a crosshatch of tiny red beams. Then the wand flashed with two pops of light. Mary scrunched her hat back on. The VC tapped a screen and typed on a keyboard. Moments later he rattled off some questions that Joe had to answer hastily so as not to miss the next one.
“You have a three-day pass for the procedure and to make payment,” he said. “If not, you’ll be incarcerated until payment is rendered. Confirm?”
Three days wasn’t a lot of time, but before Joe could even answer, the VC pulled a dispenser gun out of a holster beside the screen. The dispenser looked like a soldering iron; only instead of a red coil at the end of the iron there was a needle. Joe knew what was coming. He wasn’t particularly looking forward to it, but it had to be done.
On the desk’s surface were several vertical red stripes.
“Place your forearm on the red line,” the VC said. “Palms up.”
The instant they set their forearms down, steel clamps shot out of the desk and locked their arms in place. Joe was first to get a veritag. He braced himself for the poke of the needle, but the injection of the tiny translucent veritag wasn’t as bad as he thought.
“Hardly felt it,” he said and looked at Mary.
Afterwards, the VC ejected the used needle into a red basket and then pushed the dispenser gun back in the holster. When he pulled it out again, it had a fresh needle. He wasted no time in stabbing it into Mary’s wrist. Once again, she didn’t flinch. Not a single finger twitched or muscle vibrated. It was as if she didn’t feel anything at all.
To complete their verification, the last thing the VC did was tattoo a code on their wrists above the veritag. He used a curved device that he pressed against their skin. For a few seconds something buzzed against Joe’s wrist. It wasn’t exactly painful. It was more like a sharp pressure, like pushing your hand against the rough bark of a tree. What the device left behind on their skin was a series of letters and numbers interrupted by a dash.
“Next,” the VC said, and yawned.
A guard ushered them through a big door in the back corner. And just like that they were back in the lot where their wagon was parked. Joe looked at his wrist. Then he took Mary’s arm and looked at hers. The code inscribed there was only three digits off from his, but somehow he was disappointed it wasn’t the very next number. After he let go of her arm, he felt a different kind of disappointment, much worse. Seeing the code on her skin made him realize what he’d done by bringing her here.
Chapter 25
On the bridge going over the river, the tire rim on the wagon scraped along the strips of perforated steel. Down below, floating beside the riverbank, was a huge barge stacked with countless logs that men were chopping and sawing into smaller pieces. The dark river curved away and vanished into the vast city. The buildings directly on the other side got gradually bigger and bigger until tall buildings towered in the distance like mountains. That was the Green Zone, where they were forbidden to go. It was the place where wealthy business people lived along with government officials.
Finally they clunked off the bridge and hit a cracked and pitted cobblestone street that was clogged with more people. Some of these new people were dressed in better clothes. The men wore short hats with brims, and the women wore dresses that clung to their hips and fluttered around their knees. It was a whole new class of individuals mixed in with people draped in rags and barefoot kids scurrying through the traffic. A few of the well-dressed people held cloths to their mouths as if they were afraid of breathing in the air. One man had hoses attached to a small tank that was slung over his shoulder. The air smelled a little musty to Joe, like mud scooped out by the river back home, but it seemed fine in his lungs. Maybe there was something in the air he didn’t know about, or maybe those people didn’t like earthy smells.
He was amazed by how many people were jammed into the city. In the last few hours, he’d seen more people than he’d ever seen in his entire life. At the same time, it all became overwhelming, and Joe wanted to get away—away from the strange people, bicycles, horses, carts, pickup wagons, car buggies, and even some actual moving cars.
Joe had seen plenty of beat-up and patched-up old cars, but he’d never seen any that weren’t pulled by horses or bisox. The three different cars he saw right then weren’t very big. In fact, they didn’t look like they could carry more than a few people. They had snub noses and bubble cabs and probably ran solely on electricity. Gas and diesel were only used for larger vehicles, like Arbyters, and for long-distance travel, especially since electricity didn’t really exist outside the city.
To be honest, Joe didn’t know where he was going. He knew where the steel mill was because Frank had sketched it on a scrap of paper, but that was a long ways away. What they needed to do was find a place to stay first. Focus on that, he thought. And worry about the rest later. So when he saw a corner, he turned down it. The noise of the main street faded. This narrower street was lined with grimy row houses, one after the other, with no space between them. It was a wall of dark brick on both sides like a canyon. Everything was dirty and dingy. Joe couldn’t understand how anyone could live here. A few stunted trees dotted the edge of the street. On top of some of the roofs, chimneys coughed smoke.
After they passed a cross street, the buildings were broken up by tight passageways in between. The buildings had crumbling stoops leading down from dark doors to cracked sidewalks. One of them had a sign out front that read “Rooming House.” Across the street, three rough-looking boys loitered on a stoop. They smoked cigarettes and stared at the wagon. Joe had a bad feeling about them, so he took Mary with him up the steps to the rooming house. Although that left the wagon unattended, he didn’t want to leave Mary alone and risk her being harassed. Even if the ruffians snooped in the wagon, they wouldn’t find the hidden bundle of diesel.
When he pushed open the door, a bell jingled, and they stepped onto a threadbare carpet. Joe nudged Mary forward and closed the door. Inside, the air was stuffy and humid. It smelled like an old leather shoe. A fat woman in a stained dress sat behind a desk. Her eyes fluttered but didn’t open. She didn’t seem to notice that a young boy and a pregnant girl stood in front of her. Thin tubes ran out of each of her nostrils and came together in a hose that rested on her bosom.
Joe was about to reach forward and tap the woman on her shoulder when a man came rushing out of a nearby room. The moment he saw them he stopped. He had a silver monocle like a small telescope strapped to one eye.
“Ah, gu
ests,” he said. “I’m the proprietor here. Welcome.” He paused for a second, and Joe thought he was going to introduce the woman with the tubes, but he didn’t. “I see your lady is with child,” he said.
“That’s why we’ve come here. My girl is breech and I need to take her to a hospital.”
“A public ward will certainly take you. Sign in, please.”
On the desk lay an open ledger with names and dates on it. Joe picked up a pencil attached to a dirty string and scribbled down his name and Mary’s name in crude letters.
“Excellent,” the proprietor said. He still had the monocle in his eye. “Wrists, please, so Mildred can scan your tags.”
When Joe looked at the fat woman with the tubes in her nose, she was now alert and smiled at him. She held what looked like a small gun with a red strip of light at the end. She waved it over their wrists and then turned to a screen trimmed with engraved brass and started typing on a keyboard.
After the proprietor quoted the price, Joe dug in his pocket, pulled out the drawstring purse, and handed some coins to the man, who unfurled his long fingers and clenched the money. He stashed it on the inside of his coat and then ushered them upstairs to a room. Joe explained that he had a wagon and horses that he needed to stable somewhere.
“Splendid,” the proprietor said. “There’s a small stable out back.”
When they went outside to the wagon, the three ruffians now stood in the street, not far from the wagon. Joe tried not to pay any attention to them. He helped Mary into the cab before he got in and drove the wagon around the sharp corner and down a tight passageway to the bricked-in backyard where a makeshift stable stood.
Never Too Far Page 10
