The First Twenty

by Jennifer Lavoie

  Other Settlers appeared at the first one’s side and she froze. Was this it? Would she die now? At least with the filtration device, the rest would be able to survive without her.

  “Get her out of the water and bring her back to the Mill,” a young woman, probably close to her own age, said. She stood at the edge, barefoot and wearing clothing that suggested she’d been pulled from her sleep.

  “What about the others?” the one with the weapon asked.

  “We’ll get them later.”

  Another man stepped forward and climbed into the river. He wrapped a large hand around her biceps and pulled her to her feet roughly. Nixie bit her lip to keep from screaming as her knee locked. Two of them managed to get her out of the river, and she stumbled as they pushed her to walk back down the path she had taken. Nixie took a step and her knee buckled. A short yelp escaped her lips before she clamped down to hold it back. Ranger’s words echoed in her mind: Never show fear or pain.

  “Dammit, Julian, carry her or we’ll be here all night,” the young woman commanded. She had to be their leader—why else would they follow her order without hesitation? Nixie was lifted off her feet and tossed unceremoniously over a broad shoulder as if she weighed nothing. Compared to the man who had lifted her, she weighed no more than a toddler.

  Back in the Mill, she was brought to a damp, windowless room. The solar-powered lighting blinded her when it was flicked on and she squinted against it, trying to gain her bearings. Much like the storage room, the ceiling towered over her, but this room was smaller and mostly empty. When her eyes finally adjusted to the dark, she made out the shadows of boards and bricks tossed haphazardly in the corner.

  “What did you come for?” the young woman asked, looming over her.

  Nixie glared up at her. She pressed her lips tightly together and refused to answer. There was no way she would tell them anything about Ranger and the others. The longer she held out, the more time they had to get away.

  “She’s not going to talk,” the one with the weapon said. He laced his fingers together and cracked them. “Might as well beat it out of her.”

  “Get out.”

  “What?”

  “I said, get out, Ryan. You’re dismissed.”

  “Wait just a minute—”

  When the leader spun, her blond hair whipped around her shoulder. Strands had come lose from the messy ponytail she had it tied up in. For the first time since her capture, Nixie had time to study the girl.

  Loose linen pants clung to her tall but curvy frame. An extra-large T-shirt hung from her shoulders, torn in a few places and advertising, with a faded logo, some once-popular musician who would have died decades ago. The shirt shifted and revealed one smooth, tanned shoulder. She stood with an air of command, like Ranger did when he was giving orders, and when she put her hands on her hips and drew her shoulders back, she seemed to grow another few inches.

  The guy with the weapon, Ryan, turned to leave the room without another word and had just disappeared when she added, “And leave the shotgun in the office. We’ll talk about that later.”

  She turned back to face Nixie. Her face didn’t betray emotion as she approached. Nixie wanted to press her back against the wall, but she held her ground.

  “What did you come for? What did they take with them?”

  Nixie bit down on her tongue.

  “You might as well answer because you’re not going anywhere.”

  “You can’t keep me here.”

  “And why’s that? Is there an appointment you need to keep?” The curve of her lips suggested humor, and if it weren’t for their differences and the dire situation, Nixie imagined she might enjoy bantering with her.

  The leader began to pace the floor. “So what is it? Food? You couldn’t have made off with much of it. Tell you what, let’s play a game. I’ll mention a few things you could have taken, and you’ll tell me if I’m getting hot or cold.”

  “Why should I tell you anything?”

  “So it couldn’t have been food.” She ignored Nixie’s question and addressed the man she’d called Julian earlier. “What’s in that storeroom?”

  “Mostly equipment,” he said. “Spare tools, extra parts, scrap metal.”

  “Scrap metal would be too heavy to carry. So what tools did you take? What parts?”

  Nixie leaned back on her hands, ignoring the throbbing in her knee as she shifted. The concrete under her palms scratched at her skin. The strong odors of mold and mildew stung her nose.

  “I can do this all day.”

  “Peyton, maybe we should let her cool off for a bit. She might talk more after a few hours down here with the rats.”

  Nixie laughed. “Rats. Terrifying.”

  Peyton turned and got down on her level. “No, the rats wouldn’t bother her. They’re scavengers, just like her.” Peyton stood, looking down at her over her nose. “But at least the rats don’t have other options.”

  *

  “How long are you going to keep her down there?” Jasper asked. He leaned back in his seat and clasped his hands behind his head. He had his feet up on the low table, ankles crossed. To Peyton, he seemed completely at ease except for the small bounce in his foot.

  “As long as it takes her to talk.”

  “That’s all well and good,” Graham said, “but what if she doesn’t talk?”

  “She’ll starve if she doesn’t.”

  He rolled his shoulders in a lazy shrug. “We are talking about a Scavenger here. Hunger isn’t anything new to them. She may be so used to it, she doesn’t talk. And what will that get you? A dead Scavenger.”

  “The only good Scavenger is a dead one,” Ryan muttered, as he entered the room.

  Peyton rounded on him. “How the hell did you get a shotgun last night? Those are for emergency situations only.”

  “This was an emergency.”

  “So you’re telling me you had time to go back to the office, unlock my father’s cabinet, and take out a shotgun before going after the intruders?”

  “Enrique isn’t here anymore, and neither are Enrique’s rules. There’s no reason to keep everything locked down tight. Clearly we need to protect ourselves.” Ryan flung out a hand, encompassing the room. “If you’re not going to do the job right, you should pass it on to someone who will.”

  Pressure built in Peyton’s temples. She wanted to rub them and ease the headache, but she couldn’t show that weakness to Ryan. Instead she pulled her shoulders back and steeled herself. “If you’re not going to answer my questions, get out of my office,” she demanded, stressing that it was, in fact, her office now. When she stood up straight, she was nearly nose-to-nose with Ryan, so his attempts at intimidation were useless.

  He opened his mouth but snapped it shut like a fish and then dropped into his seat.

  Peyton turned back to Graham. “So if I can’t starve her out, what should I do?”

  “Show her some respect and kindness.”

  Ryan barked out a laugh and Peyton found herself smirking with him. “You’re joking.”

  Graham’s eyebrow twitched up. “I’m not. The easiest way to get her to talk is to treat her like a human being. If you treat her like shit, she’s going to clam up and not give you anything.”

  Jasper rolled his head to look at her and shrugged. “It couldn’t hurt. What’s the worst that could happen?”

  “We use our time and resources to plump her up and get nothing?”

  “Well, that’s just a risk you’ll have to take. Make your decision, Peyton. You’re our leader now.”

  *

  Peyton stood outside the medical ward, waiting for Dr. Easton to finish speaking with her young patient. The child held up his finger for inspection and Dr. Easton clucked over it.

  “My, that is a nice splinter.”

  “Are you gonna hurt me?”

  “Taking it out?” she asked and then shook her head. A sweep of gray hair fell from its clip and obscured her vision. “Well, that all depen
ds.”

  “On what?”

  “On you. Do you want it to hurt?”

  “No!” The boy laughed. “That’s weird.”

  “It is weird. So, if you don’t want it to hurt, it won’t hurt.” She smiled and glanced over at Peyton. She winked before turning back to the boy. “After I take it out, can I keep it for my collection? Or do you want it back?” She picked up a pair of slender tweezers and pinched his finger with her other hand, bringing it close to her face.

  “You collect them?”

  “Yes. Would you like to see my collection?”

  “Gross, no—hey!”

  “All done,” Dr. Easton said with a chuckle. She set the tweezers down on her silver tray, swabbed his finger with disinfectant, and then stood. The boy stared at her. “Off you go. Be careful when you’re climbing next time.”

  “Thank you!”

  Peyton moved out of the way as he scampered past her. “I remember the first time you told me about your splinter collection.”

  “Works every time. What can I help you with? You seem well enough.”

  “Observant as always, Doc. It’s not actually for me. It’s for our guest.”

  “The Scavenger?”

  “Yeah. Last night when we brought her in, Julian had to carry her. She fell into the river and I think she broke something.”

  Dr. Easton pursed her lips. “And you waited this long to tell me?”

  “I didn’t know what we were going to do with her. Can you take a look at her? Maybe fix her up a bit?”

  “Of course. Let me get my kit. If she broke a bone we’ll have to bring her back here so I can set it.”

  “Can’t you do it there?”

  “I will not treat a person in a damp storeroom.” She gathered her materials and placed them in a black canvas bag.

  “But she’s a Scavenger.”

  Dr. Easton turned to Peyton, and despite her shorter stature, her glare made Peyton feel like a child again. Her usually warm brown eyes were cold and distant. “You’re Enrique’s child, but you have a long way to go before you are a leader like him, Peyton. He would never leave a person caged like an animal, Scavenger or otherwise. Now, let’s go.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Nixie did not expect the older woman who opened the door. She hadn’t expected anyone to come so soon after her lockup. She examined the woman warily as she entered, toting a bag with her.

  “Don’t worry,” the woman said. “It’s just me, no guards. I’ve been sent to check you out. I hear you’re injured.”

  Nixie raised an eyebrow. “Hospitality from a Settler?”

  The doctor set the bag down. “I’m a doctor first. Settler, Scavenger. Makes no difference to me. An injured person is an injured person. Now, let’s take a look. Peyton said you’re a little battered.”

  “I fell into the river,” Nixie admitted.

  “How do you feel?”

  Ranger’s words not to show fear or pain reverberated through her mind, but she pushed his voice away. This woman was a doctor, and like it or not, she needed help, so she took a leap of faith. “My knee hurts. I can’t put any weight on it.”

  “Let’s take a look then.” She smiled. “I’m Dr. Easton, by the way.”

  “Nixie.”

  “What a lovely name.” Dr. Easton stretched out both of Nixie’s legs, checking first the uninjured one. She ran her fingers up the muscles, then switched to the other leg. She gently probed her calf. “Tell me when I reach a spot that hurts.”

  Nimble fingers danced up her leg, pressing gently at first and then with more pressure. There was a slight pain in her calf, but Nixie didn’t say anything. That’s not what really bothered her. When Dr. Easton reached just below her knee, a short hiss escaped her lips.

  “There?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. It’s definitely swollen. You did a number on it. But it’s not broken,” she said as she slowly pressed her fingers into the area.

  Nixie bit her lip to keep from crying out. “How long will it take to heal?”

  “That depends on you. If you rest and keep weight off of it? At most, a couple of weeks.”

  “A couple of weeks?” Nixie cried. A couple of weeks meant she’d be trapped with the Settlers, relying on their kindness—or lack thereof. She had to get out of there.

  “Yes, a couple of weeks. If I can convince Peyton to move you to the medical ward, it’ll be easier to take care of you and get you back on your feet sooner.”

  “How soon?”

  “If I can get some meds in you and keep it iced, then a few days.”

  Nixie’s pulse slowed down and she breathed a sigh of relief. A few days was manageable. She could do it. Of course, she’d still have to rely on them for food, but if she could just hang in there she’d be out the moment an opportunity presented itself. If I let them think it’ll take longer to heal, then they won’t be watching me as closely and I can get out. “Do you think she…Peyton…will let you help me?” Nixie looked down at the ground. “She doesn’t seem to like me very much.”

  “Can you blame her?” Dr. Easton chuckled. “You’re a Scavenger and your people stole something from us. Besides, it’s more than just that.”

  “What more could it be?”

  Dr. Easton rocked back on her heels and looked into the distance. “Peyton had something precious taken from her recently. By Scavengers. And she’s angry.”

  “Taken?” As the word left her mouth, realization dawned on her. The guard we killed. Nixie grew dizzy as the blood rushed from her head.

  When Dr. Easton looked back at her, her eyes narrowed in focus. “You look ill. Did you hit your head when you fell? I should check for concussion.”

  “No,” Nixie said, holding her hands out in reassurance. “No, I didn’t hit my head. I’m just hungry,” she lied.

  “Then we need to get you something to eat. Let me put a brace around your knee. It will stabilize it for now until we can get you comfortable. Then I’ll get you moved to medical.”

  Nixie watched as she worked. She packed up her materials efficiently and then shouldered the bag. “Peyton is outside. Should I get her to help?”

  “Why are you being so nice?”

  “I’m a doctor. It’s my job to help people.”

  “You said it yourself. I’m a Scavenger.”

  Dr. Easton stared down at her before holding out a hand. “My dear, I was training to be a doctor when the world went to shit. I took an oath to help people, no matter what, and that’s what I’ll always do. Regardless of who or what you are.”

  Nixie stared at the hand offered. If she had any hope of getting out of here, she’d have to trust someone. The most logical choice was the doctor. She seemed genuine and so far had done nothing to suggest she would ever be otherwise.

  Dr. Easton arched one pale eyebrow and Nixie realized she had kept her waiting for far too long. She held out her own hand and didn’t flinch when the doctor took it. The older woman smiled at her, and Nixie returned it.

  Maybe if I keep her on my side, I can get information out of her.

  *

  “What do you mean you’re moving her?” Peyton demanded as soon as Dr. Easton finished speaking. It didn’t matter that the Scavenger, Nixie, was standing there propped up by the doctor. She frowned as she flicked a glance toward her and then away.

  “She needs to rest in comfort or she won’t heal. I’m not leaving her in a damp basement. Doctor’s orders overrule yours, Peyton. Your father knew that.”

  Again her father. Peyton missed him and wanted to make him proud with her leadership, but it seemed like everything she did, someone brought him up and compared her actions to his. She forced her shoulders to relax. “Fine. Let me get Julian to help move her.”

  “We’d be fine if you helped.”

  Nixie shifted her weight and looked at the ground.

  Peyton rolled her eyes and took a step toward her.

  “All right, Nixie, just keep your foot up for
now and let us do the work. Feel free to step down on your good leg,” Dr. Easton said.

  Peyton slid an arm around her thin waist and stooped. “Put your arm around my shoulder.”

  Nixie raised her arm and placed it on her shoulder. Peyton hesitated before reaching up and holding onto her arm so she wouldn’t slide away. She was so slight, her arm thin and bony, and her narrow waist was more boyish than anything with next to no curves. Peyton shook away those thoughts. She didn’t care if the Scavenger fell. It would serve her right.

  Together they made it to the medical wing without much incident. En route, they’d run into Static, who appeared curious and interested in something other than his radios for once. He disappeared without question the moment Peyton shot him a glare, though.

  “Set her down on the bed carefully,” Dr. Easton instructed once comfortably inside her domain. She set the bag down and unpacked her supplies, then moved around like a whirlwind, collecting other things.

  Peyton turned to find Nixie staring at her. “So…is it broken?”

  “No,” Nixie said, crossing her arms. “Thank God for that.”

  “Thank God? God has nothing to do with it.”

  “It’s just an expression.”

  “Ah. So you don’t practice the old religions?”

  “No. Of course not.”

  “Neither do I,” Peyton admitted. “Not many of us do.”

  “Same with us. Scavengers, I mean.” She hesitated before adding, “There are a few that still do, but I never understood it.”

  Dr. Easton interrupted and handed Nixie two large pills and a glass of water. “Take these. They’ll take away the pain and help with the swelling.” Nixie stared at the pills.

  “Don’t worry, they go down easier than they look,” Peyton found herself admitting. When the Scavenger gave her a faint smile, she stood up straighter. Pretty smile.

  “The water is delicious,” she said, eyes closed.

  Peyton might not be one for religion and praying, but the look on Nixie’s face when she drank the water and swallowed the last drop reminded her of the few old ones left who prayed fervently every Sunday. “It’s just filtered water,” Peyton said. “Nothing special.”