Naturals (Lost Souls)

by Tiffany Truitt

  Desperate.

  The majority of the people who wandered from building to building were old. Much too old to work, but the roughness of their skin, the way the sun had claimed them as tributes, indicated they had given much of their lives to seeing this place survive.

  Makeshift barriers of barbed wire and wood protected the border of the settlement. About every twenty feet or so stood a man, rifle in hand. They were the only evidence that youth existed in this place. And much like the elderly, these men didn’t seem to care that we had arrived.

  There were four housing buildings, each three to four floors high. The front of the buildings were accented with a porch, but otherwise there wasn’t much to them. Slightly better than the compound, but nothing compared to the elegance of Templeton.

  “You’ll be stationed in building two,” McNair told us as we passed. “There are about twenty other families in there. We roomed you all together. I assume you don’t mind.”

  None of us answered. Would they care if we did?

  “Now, I believe it’s best I tell you upfront that the living out here will be mighty different than what you’re used to. Everyone’s rations are based on what they need; we got nothing to spare here. We have little running water. You get a bath once a week. There are latrines located between each of the buildings,” Eric instructed.

  “Latrines?” Henry asked.

  “Fancy holes in the ground for you to piss and—”

  “They get the picture, Eric,” said McNair before turning to us. “You’ll meet before the community leaders, and then Eric will show you to your rooms. After that, you get one day to rest.”

  “And then what?” asked Robert.

  “You work. Tess and Henry will join the farmers,” said McNair.

  “And me?”

  “Well, Robert, we’ve got a special project for you. We couldn’t just let a man with your skills go without a purpose,” Eric said with a grin.

  I shuddered. Robert nodded.

  “And what if I don’t want to be a farmer?” Henry asked.

  “Everybody works. If you can prove you bring something else that’s useful to the community, then we’ll let you do that. Till then, you help where we need it,” McNair replied.

  Henry opened his mouth to object, but McNair cut him off. “Look, we took a mighty big risk bringing y’all here. And we don’t have a lot of rules we ask you to follow. But the ones we do, we expect you to keep. What’s yours is yours, and don’t worry about anyone else’s. Contribute to the community. Pull your weight and don’t complain. And if you do got a complaint, you bring it to the leaders.”

  “Sounds fair to me,” I spoke up. I could tell Henry already had a lot of objections, but I wanted to find our rooms. I wanted to sleep in a real bed. I wanted that bath. There would be time to figure out our place soon enough.

  I was informed that my meeting with the community’s leaders would be alone. Or at least without my people. Despite both Henry’s and Robert’s objections, I was rushed to them without any thought of ceremony. As we walked toward the building, I tried to focus my breathing. Keep calm. This was an important meeting. First impression. I couldn’t come across as weak—I would have to convince the community members to go on another rescue mission. Persuading them also meant proving that I could handle going back.

  I wasn’t weak.

  I had survived.

  The community’s main center reminded me of the dining hall back in the compound. It was filled with row after row of tables. All wooden. Gone were the metal and steel I had grown accustomed to. The place was empty with the exception of a small group of adults who sat at the end of one of the tables. I was pleased to see the group was made up of both males and females. The council had worked so hard to convince the naturals that women were to blame for our countless defeats in war, that it was our natural, inborn wantonness that affected the men around us, rendering them useless, emotionally driven simpletons.

  If these were the leaders of the community, it was obvious that some things here had changed for the better. That was a small comfort.

  “Don’t be shy. What’s your name?” asked a man with longish dirty blond hair. His face, like many of the other men’s, was covered in a beard.

  I cleared my throat and took a small step toward the group. “Tess,” I replied.

  “Did you think about searching her?” asked a second man, who was focused on a cup in front of him that was filled with a mystery liquid. I wasn’t even sure he had seen me at all. He was balding, and a scar ran across the crown of his head, almost as if someone had tried to cut his scalp clean off.

  “Search her? She’s just a girl,” McNair said.

  “Yeah. We’ve traveled with her for quite a bit, and trust me, there’s nothing to worry about when it comes to this one,” Eric replied, playfully punching me in the arm. I wanted to contest his branding of me, but the throbbing in my arm let me know that perhaps he was spot on. Years of merely existing hadn’t formed me into the kind of people who now stood before me.

  “This girl you’re so quick to label as weak sure does have the council scared. Unless I’ve been misinformed, she seduced a chosen one, took on the punishment of a fellow natural, and tried to escape. On her own. I think she packs a bigger punch then you give her credit for,” one of the leaders said. I didn’t know the man’s name, but I suddenly liked him. I couldn’t help but stand a little taller.

  “That may be true, but you two are idiots for thinking she won’t betray us,” the unnamed man continued.

  “Excuse me? Betray you?” I asked indignantly.

  “You abandoned your own people. And worse than that, you’ve…well…you’ve had sexual relations with a chosen one,” he charged.

  My face heated up. They were all looking at me now. And if I wasn’t mistaken, Eric took a step away from me. I could see it in their eyes, could hear it in my head. All the words they wanted to say.

  All the words within which men tried to trap women.

  I lifted my chin. “My sex life, or lack thereof, is none of your business.”

  The man with the cup sat back in his chair and looked me up and down. “Isn’t it, though?”

  “Stop that, Al. You’re scaring the poor thing,” spoke a woman. She couldn’t have been much older than forty. Her long hair was clumsily thrown into a ponytail, pieces escaping and framing her face. Her eyes looked kind, but I knew how deceiving appearances could be.

  “Yes, enough. Sharon’s right. You’re scaring her,” McNair chided. “I brought her in here to meet you. She knows the rules. There’s no need to search her. I vouch for her, and my word should be good here.”

  I’d never liked McNair so much.

  The woman called Sharon offered me a smile before pushing out of her chair. When she stood up, I saw it. The bump. She was pregnant.

  I felt the color drain from my face and had to force down the images of Emma and Julia that always came to my mind when I thought about sex and children. Sharon reached out a hand to me and I cringed. I didn’t want her to touch me. Not now. Not ever.

  She was death personified.

  Sharon put her hand over her swollen abdomen. “Don’t worry, dear. I am like you. This will be my fifth.”

  The words echoed inside my head: like me. No, I hadn’t chosen that life. Just because I could…that didn’t mean I had to. Right? I felt the weight of everyone’s stares on me. Was this what I was brought here for? Not to be studied—no, that I expected. That I understood. But was I to be a breeding machine? I looked at Sharon. Haggard. Her hips large from many years of carrying children.

  A walking, breathing scientific lab.

  Salvation.

  I shook my head and backed away. “I didn’t come here to do this,” I said, pointing a shaky finger toward Sharon’s abdomen.

  “Easy. No one said that was your job,” McNair soothed.

  “None of that has to be decided right now. You are, no doubt, tired and need your rest,” Sharon said. />
  “Can I go to my lodgings?” I whispered. I could feel a panic attack stirring inside. It was one thing to throw my ability in McNair’s face while trouncing through the woods, but it was entirely different to hear my worst fear spoken aloud.

  McNair gave a swift nod.

  I had a lot I wanted to ask of them. I wanted to plead for Louisa. But not that night. I didn’t know what kind of people stood before me.

  I had been foolish thinking I would merely be a symbol.

  Chapter 8

  My legs burned. No rest for the weary. Before the sun had risen, there was a pounding on our door and a command to get up. No bath. No time to explore. I pulled my hair back as tightly as I could and tied it with a ribbon I had somehow managed to hold onto during the journey. There was no way to fix my clothes, but I had a feeling the people on the farms wouldn’t care so much.

  Henry and I fell in line behind the group heading out from the camp. Following alongside the workers were men with guns. I wasn’t sure if these escorts were there to keep us safe as we exited the camp or to make sure we didn’t stray from the path. I liked to think it was the first option.

  The group was comprised of mostly teenagers. The signs of desperation that marked the elders of the community showed on these younger members as well. Though their bodies were hard and lean from years of strenuous work, their faces held the truth. Sunken cheeks. Sharp bone structures. Clothes more tattered and torn than mine. Some of the girls even wore pants, and I wondered if this was by choice or because they had nothing else to wear. They made small talk with one another as they walked in the brisk morning air, but they didn’t bother to introduce themselves to us. Some seemed to be sleep-walking—their feet knowing the way without having to see ahead of them. Blindly following the mass of people.

  I reached into my pocket and felt for the book I had hidden in there. I was thankful the pocket was deep enough to keep it concealed. I didn’t feel comfortable leaving it alone in my room. These people didn’t seem like the type to care much for music, art, or literature, but I also didn’t know if they would just burst into my room and take what they wanted. They were, after all, a group who sought to make their own laws. Perhaps the book would be a one of a kind. Maybe they hadn’t ever seen a book. Maybe they didn’t even know how to read.

  Besides, it felt nice to carry with me a small part of the world I had left behind.

  As we reached our destination, the members of the herd scattered into different directions. Spring meant planting, and while to me it still seemed too cold to grow anything, the urgency of their movements suggested otherwise.

  “Where do we go?” I asked Henry, standing in the middle of the dirt road, trying, often in vain, not to get bumped into by the people who rushed to their jobs.

  “No idea. You’d think there would be someone here to meet us,” Henry replied, crossing his arms and surveying his surroundings.

  I let out a small laugh. “Yeah. I didn’t read about this in our welcome pamphlets.”

  “Like these people know how to read and write,” Henry muttered.

  “Maybe we can ask one of those boys with the cows?” I asked, pointing to the front of a barn.

  “Cows. Great. I’m not touching one of those things,” Henry replied.

  “What if I dared you?” I asked, cracking a smile. I purposefully bumped into Henry with my shoulder. “Come on, you always loved a good dare when we were little. Tell me you didn’t have fun that time I challenged you to eat that earthworm without making a face. You did it, too. And you’re afraid to touch a cow?”

  As much as I knew he didn’t want to, Henry grinned. “I really hate you sometimes,” he said with a laugh.

  “You!” yelled one of the boys as he pointed in our direction. He stalked over to us and placed himself between Henry and me. The lanky boy wasn’t much older than I was. “You’ll partner up with Lockwood,” he said to me. “He’ll show you how to milk the cow.”

  I assumed Lockwood was the second boy who stood by the barn, looking at us.

  “Um. Isn’t there something else I could do? Something to clean? I used to be a maid,” I said. I glanced at the cows. They were larger than I imagined they would be. I’d never actually seen one in person, and while they seemed pretty lethargic, the unfamiliar beasts still frightened me.

  “I’ll learn how to milk the cow,” Henry offered, seemingly sensing my apprehension.

  “You’ll do what you’re assigned. If you got a problem with it, you can speak to the leaders, though between you and me, not a great way to start your stay here. Besides, this is a job given to the weaklings. You weak?” the boy asked Henry, sizing him up.

  Henry bit the inside of his cheek. Despite many years in the compound, he could have taken this boy out without much effort. He wasn’t the strongest, but the beanpole before us was an obvious weakling himself—nearly starving. Too frail to work the fields, so instead they made him a foreman. “You okay with this, Tess?” Henry asked.

  I gave a quick nod, unwilling to show this jerk any more of my nervousness. Henry touched me lightly on the hip. “I’ll see you later,” he promised. He motioned for the kid to lead the way.

  I watched as he left me. I wished we could have worked together. Back in my life before I knew what it was to feel, I would have wanted to work alone, but now I wanted my friend. I wanted Henry.

  “It’s really not that difficult,” Lockwood spoke up.

  I took a deep breath. The boy in front of me would be considered handsome by most naturals’ standards. His hair was down to his ears, brown with bits of red, depending on how the sun hit it. His eyes were bright blue. “If you say so,” I replied, hoping to call forth the stoic girl I had once wished to leave behind.

  “I’ll do it this morning and you can watch me. Maybe you can even try it once if you’re feeling really crazy. I’ll talk it through while I do it. Sound fair?” Lockwood asked.

  “Fair?” I laughed. It was a relatively new question. Lockwood raised an eyebrow at me and I cleared my throat, a nervous habit I must have picked up from James “Fair. Yes. It sounds fair.”

  “All right. First thing I like to do is say good morning.”

  “To the cow?” I asked.

  “Of course to the cow. We’re about to get pretty intimate. Figure the nice thing to do is to wish her a good morning.”

  “Um, right. Of course,” I replied.

  Lockwood didn’t move on to step two. Instead the increasingly odd boy stood staring at me.

  “What?” I asked, wondering if I had suddenly grown a second nose.

  “Aren’t you going to…”

  “Say good morning to the cow? Now?” I asked in disbelief.

  Lockwood didn’t reply, instead choosing to cross his arms and wait me out.

  I sighed. “Good morning…cow?”

  Lockwood grinned. “Much better. Now time for step two. See this stool right here?”

  He waited for my response. It took everything in me not to roll my eyes. Did he think I was an idiot? I nodded.

  “Good. You want to put this at about a ninety-degree angle from your friend. Once you sit down, you’ll put your cheek right against her. Like so,” he continued, moving to take a seat on the stool. Once there, he placed the side of his face against the cow’s torso. It surprised me how gentle he was.

  “I…I have to get that close?” I asked.

  Lockwood grinned again. “Yep. And make sure the pail is right under the girl’s teat.”

  At the word, my whole face went red. It didn’t help that Lockwood full out laughed at my response. I crossed my arms and looked away.

  “Sorry…sorry…I’m being rude,” he said. “It’s just I forgot you came from occupied territory. I’m sure life in one of those compounds is a lot different than life here. You’ll see as time goes on.”

  “And the next step?” I asked, hoping to move the whole presentation along. I was starting to long for Gwen, my old supervisor—at least she got right to the
point. Of course, she’d forced me to clean up dead bodies, so I guess Lockwood wasn’t all bad.

  “Yes. Right away. Okay, so now you’re ready to squeeze the top here with your thumb and forefinger. Like so,” he replied. In a quick succession of movements, he had the cow producing milk. He looked up at me. “Now you try.”

  “You said I would just be watching,” I quickly reminded him.

  “Yeah, well, guess I lied. You looked scared as hell. Now is as good a time as any,” he said.

  I would have preferred scrubbing every window in Templeton a million times over to milking that cow, but I had to earn my keep. Lockwood stood up and motioned for me to take a seat on the stool, and after sitting down, I hesitantly placed my cheek against the cow’s side. Much to my surprise, it was soft and cool on my skin. “Good morning, cow,” I whispered, hoping Lockwood didn’t hear me. If he did, he didn’t mention it. Instead, he repeated the steps as my hands went to work.

  But nothing happened.

  Lockwood crouched next to me. “Try again.” He didn’t sound mad or even like he was making fun. He sounded like he wanted me to be able to do this. He sounded like he believed I could.

  I nodded.

  “Look, she can’t milk it!” someone called from behind us. “Can’t get the cow to produce. And here I heard that’s all she’s supposed to be good at.”

  I turned to see a teenage boy and girl. A couple. Or at least I assumed they were by the way the girl draped herself over the boy’s arm.

  “That’s her?” the girl asked skeptically.

  “Not much to look at, is she? I wouldn’t touch her. Even if it meant I’d get to carry on the family name. Besides, I hear she’s tainted anyways. Liked to spend her time with those abnorms.” The boy sneered.

  The girl grinned, pleased, no doubt, that her boyfriend didn’t find me attractive. “I heard that, too. That she let one after another have their way with her. That she might even be pregnant with one of their spawn. And she promised to bear as many children here as there were men who wanted her.”