by L. S. O'Dea
Jackson stepped out from behind the oak. “I haven’t caught her yet, but she’s still alive.”
“What? How is that possible?” That was the worst news the Guard could have delivered. The leaves in the tree rustled in the slight breeze and a few fell down around him.
Jackson began to pace. “I’m not sure. We picked up her trail again, following her all over the forest, but she keeps disap...”
“Stop. The deal is off.” He’d heard enough and quite frankly, he didn’t care. He couldn’t un-spike Bell’s tea.
“I’ll bring her back.” Jackson’s voice was low, threatening.
“Forget it. It’s too late.”
“Has someone noticed she’s gone?” Jackson whitened a bit.
He paused, letting the Guard sweat. If anyone notified Benedictine that a Producer was missing and Jackson wasn’t where he was supposed to be, the Almighty would punish the Guard, severely, but a dead Guard was no good to him. “No, but they will. Go home and stay there. Tomorrow morning an alarm will be sounded.” A leaf fell on his head and he brushed it aside. The autumn colors were pretty but the shedding of the trees drove him crazy.
“There’s no need to do that,” said Jackson, shaking his head.
He needed Jackson to give up and go home, but he had no intention of forgetting about the Guard’s secret. Jackson didn’t do his job, so he still owed him a favor. However, he didn’t want Jackson showing Benedictine where he’d filled in the hole under his section of the fence. For now, he’d let the Guard think they were squared away. He could always call in the debt later, when the earth was firm. “Don’t bother. You’re safe. I won’t speak of the necklace.”
Jackson eyed him suspiciously and then started to walk away. After a few paces he sighed and turned around. “I wasn’t going to tell you, but I think she may be on her way home. I was able to pick up her scent trail off and on from the Lake of Sins and it’s leading this way. Give her a little more time.”
He’d been mistaken. That was the worst news Jackson could have delivered. She couldn’t return, especially tonight. Bell falling asleep at his post was not enough to ruin the Lead Producer’s reputation.
“You don’t want to involve Benedictine in this if you don’t have to. It won’t go well for anyone,” said Jackson.
He was counting on it not going well for Bell. “It’ll be fine.” And it would. He just needed to make sure Trinity didn’t sneak back into camp tonight and if she did, he’d have to convince her to leave again. It was her or Remy and for him that wasn’t even a choice.
“I don’t think you understand what Benedictine is capable of doing. What’s been done in the past.”
“What are you talking about?” Now, his curiosity was piqued.
“I don’t like you Troy, but take my advice and don’t do anything. If someone actually notices she’s missing then report it, otherwise let it go. Trust me on this.” Jackson turned and headed toward the produce carts.
What was that all about? Later, he’d question the older Producers. They might remember something, but now he needed to get some sleep. His evening was going to be busier than he thought. On top of digging the hole and dragging Trinity’s nightgown across the camp for a scent trail, he had to make sure she didn’t come home.
CHAPTER 15
AFTER BREAKFAST, TRINITY FOLLOWED GAAR through the forest toward the Finishing Camp. Mirra had already moved on ahead, leaving her scent to clear their path of other predators. Soon she’d see the encampment for herself. Would it be as bad as everyone said it was? Her hands trembled as she pulled the backpack off her shoulders and took out her water bottle. No matter what she discovered, she had to be home before dawn. Tonight would be the seventh night since she’d escaped. She took a quick drink, stumbling over a tree root and dropping her backpack.
Gaar stopped, shooting her a dirty look. “Stop daydreaming and pay attention.” He started walking again.
“Sorry.” He was grouchier than usual. She stuffed the bottle back inside the backpack. There was a slight indentation where it sat on the ground. Probably from Gaar’s bread. She tried not to smile as she slung the bag over her shoulders and trotted to catch up with him.
He motioned for her to wait and disappeared into the bushes. The morning sun filtered through the leaves above. She raised her face to catch the warmth. It was a glorious day, perhaps her last one with Gaar and Mirra. She’d miss them and the freedom of the forest. A twig snapped. She wouldn’t miss creatures trying to eat her. She crouched, pulling out her knife.
Gaar stepped into view. He’d circled around. “Come on.”
She exhaled deeply. These two really needed to quit sneaking up on her. She sheathed her knife and followed him, stopping at the edge of a clearing. Up ahead was the encampment.
There were five buildings inside the fence. One was a single-story, wooden structure with three curtained windows and smoke coming out of the chimney. The other four were large, windowless, gray-brick buildings several stories high. There was no smoke coming from their chimneys. They stood cold and silent.
The yard was big with several fields that had been harvested and prepared for winter. Smaller, winter root gardens lay on the east side of each building. The Elavital River ran from the forest, under the fence and through the camp. She smiled slightly. She’d been right about the river leading to the destination of the Harvest Listers.
The buildings looked uninviting compared to the cozy huts of her home, but other-than-that, the camp seemed okay. Gaar and Mirra probably considered the Finishing Camp a terrible fate because the Producers were enclosed inside a fence. That would be a horrible existence for them, but she’d lived like that her entire life. It wasn’t so bad. At least in an encampment, she didn’t have to worry about ending up some creature’s dinner. Still, something didn’t seem right. She studied the camp again, but the only things ominous were the spirals of razor wire running across the top of the fence.
“Why do they use barbwire here? We don’t have that at home?” she asked.
“They say it’s for protection.”
That made sense, especially after seeing the Cold Creepers, but there was something in his tone that told her he didn’t believe that was the real reason. She started to ask him why when he held up his hand.
“Wait. Watch,” he said.
A few minutes later, four Guards stepped out of the one-story building. Voices and laughter trickled out of the open doorway. As the door closed, the yard, once again, fell silent. They separated into pairs. Two went behind the Guards’ house and came back around carrying large, full, burlap sacks which they stacked in front of the closest brick building. Then they returned to the back for more bags.
The other two strolled past the sacks and went inside the building. They came out leading a group of teenage, male Producers. The Producers began working in the root gardens. After a while, the Guards ordered them to walk around the yard. Most of the boys chatted and laughed with each other while circling the enclosure. After two laps, the Guards whistled and the Producers headed back to the building, picking up a sack and carrying it inside.
This was repeated for the next two buildings. After the third set of Producers, the only group of females, went back inside, the Guards entered their house. No one went into the fourth building and no one came out. A few moments later two other Guards came outside and began walking the perimeter.
“Did you see your friend?” he asked.
“No, but I saw Mirabelle and some others from my camp.” The Producers had looked good, really good. They’d all put on weight and there was a healthy, happy glow to them that had been missing at home. This might be the ideal place for her. Maybe, she’d finally fit in somewhere, but where was Travis? Could she have missed him in the crowd? “I need to speak with her.”
“How do you plan on getting inside?” He raised a brow.
This was a test. She studied the camp and smiled. “See that tree over there on the far side of the yard. I can use
that to get over the fence.”
“That will get you in, but not out. The tree is on the outside of the fence and the branches don’t hang far enough over for you to leap to them from the inside.”
In her haste, she hadn’t considered how she would get out again. She chewed on her finger. “Uhmm. I could scale the fence. It isn’t that high.”
“You’d never get over the barbed wire. This isn’t a game. You have to plan your exit as well as your entrance.”
He was right to be angry with her. He’d taught her better than that. She scanned the area again. “There’s a gap on the top of the fence where the gate swings open. I could squeeze through there.”
Surprise flashed across his face for a second and then he nodded. “So, there is. I’d never noticed that before. It’s small, but you could fit.”
She stood a little straighter. She’d passed his test, but the opening was too little for Gaar. Her shoulders sagged it wasn’t going to work after all.
“The problem with that escape is that you’d be directly in front of the Guards’ building. They’d see you through the windows and be on you in an instant.”
Okay. It wouldn’t work for a couple of reasons. She looked over the camp again and again. There had to be a way. She couldn’t fail now, not when she was so close.
“This way,” he grumbled.
What had she missed? She followed him through the brush to the other side of the encampment. They darted from bush to bush, arriving near a large tree by the fence. They climbed until they were hidden by the thick foliage.
“Look down,” he said. “Do you see where the earth is disturbed? One of the Guards used to sneak his girlfriend into the camp.”
Along the fence line was a small section of dirt that had been dug up in the recent past.
“The soil there will be easy to move. You should be able to shimmy under the fence.”
There was no way he’d seen that loose dirt from where they’d been standing. “How did you know this was here?”
“I watched the camp a couple of months ago.”
“Why?” Who would want to stake out a Producer encampment?
“Does it matter?” He shot her a dirty look.
“No. I guess not. I was just curious.” He sure was grouchy today.
He snorted. “The curse of your father’s kind. A different Guard was helping Producers escape.”
Maybe, that’s why she hadn’t seen Travis. It didn’t seem that bad here, so why would he leave, unless, he’d been returning to tell her about the camp, like he’d promised. Her heart skipped a beat. He’d never made it home and he wasn’t here. An image of the Cold Creepers flashed through her mind. “What happened to the ones who escaped?”
“Most went to the Forest Witch.” He scratched his chin.
Oh, Travis, you should have stayed here. “What did she do with them?” She wasn’t sure she really wanted to know.
He glanced at her. “Probably, nothing. She’s just an old, female Almighty who takes in strays, so to speak. She’s basically harmless.”
Basically? “You’re hiding something. I can see it in your eyes.” This was the second time today that he’d kept the truth from her.
His black eyes bored into her. “Don’t go inside. Come with Mirra and me and we’ll live the rest of our days free in the forest.”
Her breath caught in her throat. It must be really bad if he wanted her to run, but she had to do this. This was why she’d left her home. She shook her head, placing her hand on his arm. “I can’t.”
He shifted away from her. “Foolish youth. Some things are better left unknown.”
She turned her head, staring at the camp. He was wrong, knowing was always better. Her whole life was a secret and it had caused her only pain.
The two Guards headed back into their building.
“They’ll be in there the rest of the afternoon. If you’re determined to do this, you need to go now.”
She couldn’t have heard him correctly. “You’re coming with me, right?”
“I can’t go inside that camp. The Producers would cause a ruckus when they saw me.”
“But...” She didn’t want to go alone.
“You don’t have to do this.” He nudged her shoulder.
Her hands trembled. It would be easier and safer to leave, but what if Travis or Adam were in there? She had to find out if they were okay and if not, she had to persuade Gaar to help her free them. She shook her head.
He sighed. “You need to stay focused and pay attention to your surroundings. You can’t let your emotions get the better of you. Question everything that they tell you. Things are often different than what they seem. The lakes and rivers appear safe on the surface and yet, sometimes River-Men lurk below.”
She nodded, his words barely registering. He was sending her inside alone. Alone.
He grabbed her arm. “Once you’re under the fence stay low and move fast. Find the others from your camp and talk to them. When you’re ready to leave each building look to me and I will let you know if the way is clear. The Guards should stay inside until late afternoon, but you can never be too careful.”
She took a deep breath and dropped from the tree. She began digging in the dirt. It was easy to move and it only took minutes to make an opening big enough for her to squeeze through. Once inside, it was a clear path to the building. Too clear. There was nothing to hide behind. She hunched over, making herself as small as possible, and ran to the nearest building. It was the one the Guards hadn’t entered. She leaned against it, panting. Her heart was racing, but it wasn’t from the run. She needed to get this done as quickly as possible, so she could get back to safety.
She pushed away from the wall, peeking around the corner. No one was around. She ran to the next building where the female Producers where kept. Hopefully, the door would be unlocked. She should’ve asked Gaar how to pick a lock. She turned the handle and the door opened. Another step and she would be completely on her own. Gaar couldn’t help her inside the building. She glanced back at the tree where he waited. It was a long way away. She inhaled deeply and slipped inside.
The smell of mold filled her head as the damp, cold darkness surrounded her. She sneezed and then stilled. Nothing moved. A long hallway, barren and narrow, stretched in front of her. She walked slowly, listening for any sign of life. At the end of the hallway was a stairwell. She climbed to the second floor. There were six doors in this corridor, three on each side. They were all closed.
She crept to the first one. There was a murmur of voices inside the room. She didn’t recognize any of them. She moved on, repeating the process. At the third room she paused, tapping on the door.
“Mirabelle, is that you?” she whispered. “It’s me, Trinity.”
The talking ceased as footsteps moved to the door.
“Trinity? From home?” asked Mirabelle.
The sound of the familiar voice flooded her with memories-the smells of earth and bread and her mom’s vegetable stew. Her breath caught in her throat. “Yes.” She needed to see a familiar face. She turned the doorknob but it was locked. “Open the door. Please.”
“I can’t. Only the Guards have the keys.” Mirabelle hesitated for a second. “It’s for our protection.”
How many times had she heard that in her lifetime? The fence was for their safety. The Harvest List was to keep their bloodlines strong so no deformities were born. She’d never questioned it, only accepted it as truth, but now, Gaar’s voice echoed in her mind, repeating almost those exact words about the barbed wire.
“What are you doing here? They haven’t brought this year’s Listers yet,” said Mirabelle.
Odd, it no longer bothered her that everyone assumed she’d be on the List. “I snuck out. I wanted to discover what happens to us and find Travis and Adam, my little brother. He’d be five now. Have you seen either of them?”
“I haven’t seen anyone that young.”
She bit her lip. Where was Adam? Would she
ever find him?
“Trinity, you should go home. You don’t want them to catch you,” whispered Mirabelle.
This was it. She was going to find out the horrible truth that Gaar and the others had warned her about. Her stomach clenched.
“You don’t want to do anything that would stop them from bringing you here. You’re going to love this place. I have new friends and you wouldn’t believe all the food. We get to eat everything we grow. They even give us extra food.”
That was not what she’d expected. It sounded...nice. No wonder everyone had gotten so much bigger. At home, she was always hungry.
“That isn’t even the best part. From what J.R. tells us, the next place that they take us is even better.”
“The Warehouse District?”
“Yeah, how did you know about it?” asked Mirabelle.
“A friend told me. He didn’t seem to think it was such a good place to go.” That was an understatement. Why was Gaar so sure that seeing this camp would make her want to live in the forest? It seemed okay to her and Mirabelle really liked it here. Gaar had said to question everything, so maybe it was time that she started.
“Well, it sounds great to me and I hope that I get to go this year,” said Mirabelle.
“Why wouldn’t you?” Was it like at home, where the better examples of Producers were chosen to stay or maybe in this situation leave? If that were the case then she’d either be leaving right away or stuck here indefinitely.
“It depends on our size. The bigger ones are taken to the Warehouse District. Most of us are here for two or three years, but a few, special Producers get to leave after only one year. I like it here and everything, but they promised to fix my leg once I go there.”
