Exodus

by Toasha Jiordano

  Tears glisten in Marshall’s kind eyes, but none fall. “I’m very sorry for your loss, child. But you’re stronger than this. You’re a warrior.”

  President Theoda’s words come flooding back. “Murderer,” she had said. That feels more fitting.

  “I heard him,” I cry into Marshall’s shoulder. “I know I did.”

  “I’m sure you did. You lost a lot of blood in your… accident.” Marshall pushes me out at arm’s length and gives me a stern look.

  Sniffling, I wipe my nose on my sleeve and instantly regret it. The white towels that Vallon wrapped around my wrists are soaking through. How will anyone believe that this was an accident?

  “I know I heard him, Marshall.” I know it. He was real. Please. //Howie, please answer me.// Please tell me you’re really there.

  //It’s cold, Syn. Something’s wrong. I’m so… cold… and tired. So tired.//

  //Hang on. I’m coming. Where are you? Where’s Bit? Is he OK? Howie, please tell me he’s OK. I can’t take it!//

  Slipping out of Marshall’s grasp, I leap up to run to Howie, to save him. And fall on my face. My legs crumple to the cold floor below.

  Marshall picks me up and places me back on the bed. “You need to rest. Here…” He points toward Vallon, walking swiftly down the hallway with a woman in a white lab coat close behind. He’s at least a foot taller, holding himself with such reverence for a man who just attacked a dying girl.

  “I did, Marshall. He just… he’s alive. They’re alive. I have to…” I try to climb off the bed again but it’s no use. Marshall doesn’t even have to hold me down. The room spins and Vallon and the doctor become a blur. Still I crawl back, away from the approaching monster.

  When they reach us, Vallon stands aside, arms behind his back and legs shoulder width apart. He doesn’t look in my direction, and I don’t bother to care.

  Marshall whispers in my ear, “Hush, Ratnik,” and gives the doctor a tentative smile. “Can you have him back to normal before we leave?”

  //Tell me where you are? What do you see?// I ignore everyone around me and focus on Howie’s faint stutter in my ear.

  //I… I don’t know. My pod is so cold.// He sounds far away, dreamlike. Stone, please don’t let this be a cruel trick of my dying mind.

  //I’ll find you. Don’t worry. I’ll find you both.//

  //Brooks isn’t with me.// I hear a fain sob through his transmission. It must have taken everything out of him, reaching out to me. Letting me know he’d saved Bit.

  The doctor, a middle aged woman with a no-nonsense crew cut and thick black glasses lifts my wrists and begins removing the towels. The iron of my blood mixes with her antiseptic air and I retch.

  //What do you mean he isn’t with you? You said…// If they’re not together, how will I ever find both of them?

  “Miss…” she repeats.

  “He, uh, I think he hit his head, Dr. Scrip.” Marshall stammers, emphasizing the he.

  I look up at Dr. Scrip, my eyes pleading with her to go along with the ruse. She glances at Vallon who doesn’t move.

  “He,” she nods, “looks like he’s lost a lot of blood.” Dr. Scrip finishes unwrapping my wrist and quickly covers them. Fresh blood drips to the floor.

  “I fell against a glass door.” I try a reassuring smile that I know she doesn’t believe. At least my throat is hoarse from all the crying and screaming. It’s enough to pass for male.

  “Nothing some stitches and fluids won’t fix.” Dr. Scrip pulls medical tape from her coat pocket and secures my towels. “I’ll be back with some supplies. You two watch over him while I’m gone. He shouldn’t be alone right now, and don’t let him sleep.”

  The sound of her heels recedes down the corridor and Marshall stands. He takes a clean towel off the side table and wipes my congealed blood from his suit.

  “Vallon, you did well today. Thank you.” Marshall extends a hand in salute, which Vallon promptly returns. “I must see to the rest of our troops, make sure we’re prepared for departure. I trust Ratnik’s in good hands?”

  “Yes, Sir. I will stand watch, Sir.” Vallon stares straight ahead, stiff shoulders arched back past the point of comfort.

  Marshall turns back to me and smiles. “Get some rest. We leave in three hours. There’s a lot of work to do up there and I need you strong.” He leans in, places a large warm hand over mine, and adds via chip, //Gliese is our only shot, Ratnik. You do whatever it takes to pull yourself together and get on that ship with me. Three hours. I’m counting on you.// It’s the first time I’ve ever heard his thoughts.

  I nod, unable to form words. Marshall gives Vallon a strong, commanding look, and walks off. His warm comforting hands cling to each other behind his back.

  //Howie… you there? What’s going on?//

  When Marshall’s footfalls recede into the distance, Vallon inches closer to my bed and leans over me, whispering, “What do you have on him? I want in.” A wicked grin stretches across his face.

  “What? What are you talking about?” I try to get away but I’m already as far back against the pillow as I can go.

  “Sarge. What do you have on him? Why does he give a shit about a nothing coward like you?” He sneers.

  “I… he doesn’t. He just. He saved me from the explosion… by accident. He caught me —” I stop. Probably best that I don’t divulge what I was doing when Marshall caught me. Sneaking onto the Unity with Brooks and Howie. Unauthorized chips. The Resistance. “I’m dizzy. Can I just rest like Marsh — Sarge said?” I wipe my brow with my forearm, no doubt smearing blood across it.

  Vallon doesn’t budge. His acrid breath is so hot and stale in my nose, I have to hold my breath as he says, “Don’t make me regret saving you.”

  I hear him, in my memory, feel him frantically shaking me awake, calling for me to come back. Did I imagine the fear in his voice? He doesn’t seem to care whether I live or die. If I had to guess, I’d say he much prefers the latter. So why did he go through all the trouble? I’m glad he did, though, whatever his motivation. Now that I know Brooks and Howie are alive, I must live. “Thank you,” I whisper, “for saving me. It was a stupid —”

  “Yes, it was.” Vallon’s almond eyes are mere slits as he examines me. Then Dr. Scrip’s footsteps come into the corridor and he pulls back. “But I can’t have you die on my watch, now can I?” It’s barely above a whisper but the venom is clear.

  “Alright,” Dr. Scrip says, as cheery as possible. Something about her reminds me of my Nana and I can’t help but smile back. “Let’s get you fixed up and ready for your trip.” She hands two I.V. bags to Vallon. One clearly has blood and the other is full of a clear liquid. “I’m going to need you to hold these… up… up over your head. Yes, like that. Now don’t move.” She looks at me with pity in her eyes. “This is going to hurt. I’m sorry.”

  The pain is nearly unbearable. My raw skin screams with every pierce of her needle. And that damn needle feels like it’s as big as a finger, jabbing through my wrists. I wish for darkness, black, nothing. But I get none. No, I feel every pinch as she injects something directly into my tender jagged flesh before running another needle through a thin spidery vein. I hear Vallon’s labored breathing as he’s forced to hold my life in his hands again.

  //I’m cold Syn. So cold.//

  //Howie, where’s Brooks? Where are you? I need something, anything. Please.//

  But he doesn’t answer.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  It is the utmost priority of this great Sister Nation

  To preserve the purity of her Samaritans

  By creed, by birth, or by blood.

  -Fmr. President Theodon

  (Impeachment Hearing archive vol 3 patch 6)

  President Theoda’s voice pierces the darkness. I can’t make out what she’s saying, but it’s loud and it’s real. Everywhere. My legs are frozen. I can’t run. She’s yelling at me, telling her Samaritans to get me. The sky is orange, glowing. The Unity is there, above
me, so close. And then… then it’s not. It explodes, again and again. Explodes and sucks back together, explode… back together. An endless loop of dark sky and orange glow.

  I sit up.

  “In light of recent events…” It is her. That sickening voice blares through the empty room. She’s really here. “The launch schedule for Charleston has been revised. Please report to your stations immediately. There will be no further flights to Gliese. Failure to procure passage will result in immediate court-martial, and seal your fates along with the rest of the planet’s.”

  My heart pounds. I don’t even see Marshall standing beside my bed. I try to run away but a sharp pain in both arms jerks me back. I’m still connected to I.V. bags held above Vallon’s head. There’s more hate in his eyes than before. How long has he been standing there?

  “... light of recent events,” President Theoda’s voice cuts through my haze again. I jump, rip out both needles from my arms, and throw the covers off. A blast of cold air pricks my exposed skin. I’m naked.

  Marshall flings the blanket back over me. “It’s just a recording.” He drops a pile of camouflage material over my legs. “We tried to clean you up as best we could while you were asleep.”

  I pull the blanket to my neck and my eyes dart toward Vallon. The edges of his lips curl, the slightest hint of a smile forming. The male scent that permeates from his pores is instantly thicker. I cough it out of me.

  //Howie? Are you there? Can you hear me?//

  “Get dressed quickly. We have to leave now.” Marshall pats the pile of clothes then directs his attention to Vallon. “You’re dismissed, soldier. Report to your company and wait for final instruction.”

  Vallon nods and sets the two I.V. bags on the table beside my bed, stretching his sore arms. He walks in front of Marshall and as he passes me, his eyes linger on my clenched fists, still holding the covers over my chest. He licks his lips briefly and smiles at me where Marshall can’t see. His tongue is black, as I would have expected.

  When he’s gone, Marshall sits on the edge of my bed. “I hope I can trust that there will be no more accidents. I have other men in my battalion to be concerned with. I can’t have —”

  “You have nothing to worry about, Sir. I’m so sorry. I’m… I shouldn’t have… They’re OK. They’re really OK. I am fine. I’m sorry I scared you. They’re out there and I need to find them.” It all tumbles out of me at once. If I had any sense, I’d see the pity in Marshall’s eyes and shut up. But I don’t. “They need me.”

  Marshall sighs, and appears to shrink somehow, deflated. “We all lost people who were dear to us, Ratnik. You can’t —”

  “I’m not. I’m serious. Howie answered me.” I rifle through the pile of clothes until I find a small white undershirt. Marshall stands and turns his back to me.

  “You lost a lot of blood. Whatever you think you heard, what you wanted to hear… I need to know your head is right before I take you up there. This is a confined space, with a lot of innocent people on their way to a brand new planet. They trust us to keep them safe on this voyage, which can be a fresh start for all of us. But… there’s no way back if…” Marshall shakes his head. “You can’t be a liability.”

  That’s the same thing Vallon called me. I know I deserve it, after the stunt I just pulled. But it stings. “Howie answered me. He said he’s cold. He’s in a pod. He was cutting in and out, but… I know what I heard.” I stare at the back of Marshall’s head, willing him to believe me.

  President Theoda’s announcement starts over and I wince. The sound of her voice will forever haunt me. It will be synonymous with death. Destruction. Hatred. Genocide.

  In a flash, I finish pulling on the new, larger paints and heavy jacket. “I’m dressed.”

  Marshall slowly spins back around, his lip quivering. “You really heard from one of them? A survivor?”

  “Yes,” I take his hand. It’s trembling again. “They’re alive. And I have to find them.” We both look around for spying eyes. Any inkling of impropriety at this stage would doom us to this dying Earth. Or it would, if there were enough soldiers to go around.

  Marshall purses his lips and blinks back tears. “Gliese, it’s our only chance. If they survived, if… anyone survived, they’ll be on Gliese. We need to get there as soon as possible. They’ve spent years since the Glitch preparing for this, for us.” Marshall lowers his voice even more and whispers, “Probably long before the Glitch.” He holds eyes contact longer than is comfortable, to make sure I understand, then adds, “I’m sure there are contingency plans upon contingency plans for every conceivable scenario. They’ll know how to handle this.”

  For the first time since the explosion, my body tingles with something other than despair and fear. He believes me. I open my mouth but quickly close it again as Marshall looks from side to side and leans in.

  “Can I trust you?” He puts his hands behind his back and studies me.

  “Of course. I told you. I’m fine. I’m sorry for the scare. I was in a dark place, but… they’re alive. I have my purpose back.”

  Marshall steps toward me, coming in close, and pulls something out of the back of his shirt like he’s brandishing a sword. It’s a ZapStick. “Here, keep this on you at all times. Keep it safe. Keep yourself safe.” He whispers in my ear as he shoves me toward the sound of President Theoda’s voice.

  ###

  There are four military Jeeps lined up outside the barracks. Vallon stands at the rear of the third one, hurling moss green duffel bags into its trunk. He makes it look so easy, like they weigh nothing. Judging from the two soldiers tag-teaming the bags at each of the other Jeeps, I know otherwise. Something in my body reacts against my will. Come on, Syn. You just finished promising Marshall you’re not insane.

  Marshall drops a bag at Vallon’s feet and I notice my name… well, I notice that ‘Ratnik’ has been written in marker on a white tag. It strikes me as hilarious, for some reason, that we’re in the middle of the end of the world and the Army hasn’t run out of Sharpies. A quick snort escapes, catching all three of us off guard. I quickly examine the knots on my regulation drab brown boots, refusing to make eye contact with either of them.

  With my head down, I climb into the back seat of the first vehicle, it’s engine already humming, waiting to whisk me away. Marshall walks the perimeter of all four Jeeps and takes his place in the front passenger seat, directly in front of me. I feel the truck lurch into gear and just as I’m about to breathe a sigh of relief, Vallon jumps into the baggage compartment behind me. I know it’s him by the musk of his cologne, and the heat that rises in me at the nearness of him. The last thing I need is a ride all the way up the coast with the fog of his male stench choking me.

  I can feel him staring at me, although for the life of me I’ll never turn around to face him. Let him stare. I don’t care what he thinks of me. Still, I wrap my fingers around the padded rubber handle of my new ZapStick. The heat that had crept up my neck recedes. Let him get handsy now.

  As we bump down the gravel road leading out of the base, toward a crumbling gray wall, I concentrate on my plan. Get to the new ship in Charleston. Get on that ship and don’t explode. Find Brooks and Howie. Live happily ever after. Simple enough.

  //How quaint,// Vallon whispers in my mind, causing an involuntary shiver to quake through me.

  //Get out of my head!// I recover and yell back, still refusing to turn around. His hot breath prickles the spot on my neck where the hairs are still raised.

  //You really should learn to control yourself better. Such weakness in one who’s supposed to be a warrior.// He adjusts in his seat and somehow finds the last inch of my personal space. //It would have been a pity to lose you so soon, Rat. I can tell you’re going to be fun.//

  I jerk my head enough to slam into his nose. With no hair yet to cushion the blow, the satisfying crack resonates through me. A startled gasp erupts from his throat and I sit up straighter in my seat. When Marshall turns to see what all t
he commotion is about, I smile sweetly at him. He looks over my head to Vallon, who says something derogatory under his breath.

  Like a scolding father, Marshall eyes both of us for a moment then returns to the map in his hands. He periodically speaks into an old-fashioned walkie talkie like the one Guard Two had used when they caught me trying to board the Unity. I let myself wonder for a moment whatever happened to Guard Two. After the explosion, I don’t think I ever saw him again. He was as unglued as I was. Unfit for duty in the truest sense. Talk about a liability.

  Needing to get the last word in, I chip a quick //Try me,// at Vallon, and spend the rest of the trip feeling for Howie in the recesses of my mind. I know he’s out there, somewhere. I just have to find him, without broadcasting my thoughts to the entire world… or more fittingly, to the noisy jerk behind me.

  //Just let me know you’re alright. I need to know you’re alive. Please, Howie. I can’t go on like this.// The thought scares me, how close I came to making it come true. What if Vallon’s right and it’s all in my head? I can’t face a world without Brooks and Howie.

  Our link remains silent.

  ###

  I must have fallen asleep sometime during the ride up I-95, because the next thing I know, Vallon is shaking me. “Get up! I’m not carrying your ass to the ship!”

  I shake my head to clear the cobwebs. A faint smell of cookies is still lodged in there from my dream. Mom’s famous rose sugar cookies. I don’t want to let it go, but Vallon gives me another push.

  The Jeeps are empty, save me and my bag, which Vallon graciously tosses at my head before my eyes can adjust to being open. I duck just in time, then scramble to climb out of the truck and follow the line of soldiers heading toward the shuttle.

  The shuttle. It’s massive. Against my will, my legs lock in place. Vallon slams into me and shoves me out of his way. Running to catch up, I bombard him with questions. He is my babysitter after all.

  “How many people will that thing hold? What’s the scaffold for? Have you been on a shuttle before? How long will it take? Am I gonna get sick up there? Ooh, will we float?”