Exchange Rate

by Bonnie R. Paulson

  I hated that I considered it, that I was going along with it, but really? What if he was right?

  Oh, well, he was going to get what he wanted. Unfortunately, we all might.

  ~~~

  I missed lunch, not that I really cared. I’d picked up Mom’s Bible and flipped through the pages, tracing my finger over her highlighted marks and script where she’d made notes. The hundreds and hundreds of pages, flipped one by one, took so long and engrossed me so much with the closeness of my mother. I almost missed the gentle knock on the door and John calling to me from the other side.

  Lifting my head, I closed the book carefully. “Thanks, yeah, I’m coming.” I touched the front of the book, trailing my finger over the embossed title, the indented text bumpy and smooth under my skin.

  I hadn’t changed my clothes and I needed a shower, but my stomach growled. I’d eat with John first and then I’d have my last shower in our bunker. That night would be my last night with them. I had to make sure John and Bodey understood how much I cared. How much being away from them was going to tear me apart on a mental and emotional level. I could already feel the edges of my sanity shriveling.

  Tears threatened so I shook my head and pasted a smile to my lips. Fake it. If I faked it long enough, maybe I could convince myself I was happy with my decision, that it was the best thing we could do for our family in the long run.

  When I opened the door, a gust of air wrapped around me, bringing with it the rich aroma of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and fresh biscuits. A memory of my first night in the compound mingled with the saliva flooding my mouth. One thing they knew how to do in the kitchens was cook.

  Suddenly ravenous, I claimed my seat at the formally set table.

  John poured a glass of water for me and for himself. He’d served our rations, giving our plates as much presentation as he could with such a country meal. Gravy escaped the mountainous potatoes in brown rivulets to pool at the base of the white clouds.

  “This looks good. Thank you.” I waited until he returned to his seat. Once he scooted in, I lifted my fork and claimed a large bite of the steaming potatoes. Oh, wow. I hadn’t realized how hungry I’d been. I ignored the topic we needed to discuss. I didn’t want to. He didn’t need to convince me one way or the other.

  But the bliss of the food could cover up my fears, my sadness, my loneliness, if only for a moment. Thank goodness, they gave rations or I would be in the middle of the potato pan licking the dish clean.

  John pushed his salad around, lifting his gaze to mine after a moment. “I’d like you to know your decision is not an option. You’re not going with Ethan, so you can just stop with that, right now.”

  “Look, John, I don’t mind. It isn’t ideal, but at least we all stay together – I mean alive.” That was the most important thing – surviving. We wouldn’t be together, but we would be alive. I refused to acknowledge verbally that I’d rather be dead than have Ethan touch me, but I had a baby to think about. I had a family to think about.

  Being raped by Ethan would have to be the lesser of the evils.

  John put his fork down by his plate and narrowed his eyes. “It isn’t an option. So stop.”

  I dropped my gaze to my plate, partially relieved he wouldn’t let me go with Ethan. At least John wanted me around. Bodey didn’t. Even that though, I couldn’t stay mad at. I would do the same thing. I would sacrifice anything to have Bodey kept alive. Which was what Rowan wanted me to do. He wanted me to pick someone to die – any of us.

  What about me? I could be the one to go.

  I shoved another bite into my mouth, less enthusiastic since I had to make my mind up about who was going to die when the baby was born. The whole thing wasn’t fair. There was room in the community. How could we only have two-hundred people in that large compound? We had room for at least three more people in our bunker alone. Some bunkers only housed one person but all were the same size with three bedrooms.

  I swallowed, poking the air with my fork. “Will Bodey be back early since he went in before he was supposed to? We need to decide... we don’t have a long time, you know? I need to tell Rowan what I’m... what we’re going to do.” I couldn’t even talk right. My emotions tripped me up and tangled in my tongue.

  John considered me, the stubble on his face shadowing the serious tension in his jaw and the slack in his cheeks. “What do you think Bodey would do? What do you think he would want? What he said was a desperate move, just like your decision to go with Ethan was. He doesn’t want you with anyone but him. All he can think about is saving you and your baby. What do you really think he would do, if going with Ethan wasn’t an option?” John leaned back in his chair, playing with the handle of the fork and searching my face.

  I pushed my plate away, the food no longer appealing. “He would volunteer to be the one... to...” I couldn’t say die. I didn’t want to say it because the thought of Bodey dying might undo my mental barriers.

  John crossed his arms over his chest and nodded slowly. “I can’t allow that.”

  I didn’t remember being so tired. I tossed my fork to the table. “What will we do?” I leaned forward, resting my head in my hands. “I think it should be me. I should go. I’m not worth much. Not here. Not out there. You and Bodey could... protect the...” Sobs tore from me and I swallowed them back in a gulp. But I couldn’t stop the tears as they ripped their paths down my skin.

  Leave my baby? Leave her when she needed her mommy so much? Leave her because of something neither of us wanted? I couldn’t leave her. Would I be able to hold her before they took me away? Would Bodey have time to take care of her, love her? Or would he be thrust back into the crazy schedule Rowan expected him to stay on?

  Interrupting my mental projection of my fears, John scooted forward, pushing his plate and the mason jar of flowers to the side of the table. He reached for my hands, holding them in his own. Grease-stained fingers stroked the backs of my hands. A cut on his knuckle tried hiding amongst the lines of dark-stained skin. “Kelly, I promised you I’d care for you like my own child.”

  I sniffed, my face tight. I squeezed his fingers in mine, and nodded.

  “I won’t let Bodey volunteer and I certainly won’t let you sit here and talk like you have no value. My grandchild is going to know his parents – do you hear me? Everything is going to be okay.” A peaceful smile lightened the shadows of worried from his face, reassuring me. He squeezed my fingers and released them. “Now finish your meal. That baby didn’t get lunch and you need some sleep.”

  I picked up my fork, my appetite returning with full force. If John said he would fix things, I believed him. I’d never known the man not to know what to do or have a plan.

  A niggling in the back of my mind suggested he had a plan and I wasn’t going to like its outcome.

  Chapter 21

  In normal clothing, Rowan was intimidating.

  Dressed all in black with a leather overcoat, he was downright threatening.

  My breath caught in my chest when I opened the door to find him standing there, Shane just behind him with his trusty shotgun over his shoulder.

  Shane winked, his maroon beany hat highlighting the ginger in his stubble.

  “I’m not ready.” I gripped the door with a strength I didn’t know I had. My other hand snaked around the bulge at my waist in a subconscious motion to make sure the baby was still there.

  Rowan’s grin spread like rot on an apple. “I’m not here for you.” He tapped his finger on the butt, and looked beyond me, his gaze more sinister as he zeroed in on his target.

  I followed his gaze like in slow motion, the moment silvery and out of time. Who was standing there? I couldn’t remember.

  John. He’d focused on John.

  Putting down his drink, John passed me, touching my shoulder as if to say ‘stay.’

  When John reached the door, Rowan slammed the butt of the pistol across John’s face. The thud echoed in the mid-day calm.

  I stepped for
ward, gasping, my hand outstretched. “No, Rowan, stop.”

  But the men ignored me, like I wasn’t there. Like they couldn’t hear me.

  John pushed himself from the ground and lifted his chin. Blood seeped from a cut below his eye socket.

  Rowan stepped close to him. “I’m glad it’s you. Now I can make your son’s life hell and give my son what he wants the most. Seems like a plan.” He looked past John and his gaze burned into me.

  Shane tied twine around John’s wrists, binding him when John went along willingly, like they sought to shame him, bring him down.

  I left my shoes in the bunker, following behind them barefoot as they walked calmly down a path, through the orchard and across the fields to the rumored corner.

  The corner of the compound where death reigned.

  Running to catch them, I pulled at John’s sleeve when he came within reach. “John, what’s going on? I didn’t choose you. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. John! No!” I broke on a sob. They wouldn’t stop moving.

  Rowan, John, and Shane moved like time had become wrapped up in their steps. Tick, left, tock, right. Tick, left, tock, right.

  I stood still, arms thrown to my sides, and screamed. “John! There has to be another way, no!”

  In slow motion, John stopped moving and turned to face me.

  Rowan and Shane watched, glee curving their lips. John’s voice washed over me as a mix of comfort and fear. “Kelly, it’s going to be okay. Everything’s going to be okay, I promise.” His eyes... the same eyes of my husband. I’d see them in my child every day, reminded of John’s sacrifice.

  He’d chosen for me. He’d made the choice. My face tight, I stumbled behind them as they continued down the path. John faltered over a root and tripped, but caught himself.

  “Here’s as good as anywhere.” Rowan flicked his finger and Shane shoved John in the back with the broad side of his shotgun.

  John fell to his knees, a grunt when he landed the only indication the events affected him.

  Vomit roiled within me. I couldn’t move, but I tried. Thrashing and kicking, tried getting to him.

  Rowan lifted his handgun, the muzzle dead straight at John’s head, above his ear.

  The smile. The happiness in Rowan’s face curdled in my gut.

  He pulled the trigger.

  The gun’s blast echoed around us.

  I fell to my knees and screamed. And screamed. And screamed.

  And sat up in bed, sweating in the nightmare’s tight grip. I shot my gaze wildly around the room, taking in the blank walls, the light from under the door, the sheets tangled around my legs, holding me down.

  I pressed my fingers to my eyes, pinching at the bridge of my nose. Was that relief warring with the urge to yell as loud as possible? The decision hadn’t been made yet. Or had John disappeared while I slept?

  Panting, I stared up at the ceiling, through the dark. I felt the bed beside me for Bodey. Oh, wait. I’d kicked him out. If he was back, he’d be in the other bedroom. I swallowed.

  I needed to see John. I needed to know he was okay.

  Sliding from bed, I wrapped my arms around me, shivering with the realizations brought on from the dream. John had been consoling me earlier at dinner. He planned on giving himself to Rowan instead of me or Bodey or the baby and instead of me going with Ethan.

  Approaching the door, I reached for the handle, stopping when the low murmurs from the kitchen caught my ear. I couldn’t make out what they said, but the voices were distinctly John and Bodey. Part of the pressure in my chest relaxed. No one had been taken yet.

  John couldn’t be the one to go. Neither could Bodey. But if I was out of the picture, safe-ish with the baby, then they wouldn’t be in danger. The logic made sense. If I wasn’t with them, they wouldn’t be threatened with death.

  I could go for help. The compound couldn’t be the only one.

  Bayview had been solid when we’d passed through there. Simon Phahn had said there was dissent but that it couldn’t be enough to remove the community from the face of the earth. I had to have faith Captain Phahn and his group had made it and would be willing to help me rescue Bodey and John – and anyone else who wanted out.

  And I was the only one who could get out.

  My guys continued talking, their voices loud enough to cover any noises I made in my room. I pulled on clothes as dark as I’d been allowed to keep and multiple sweatshirts. I remembered the nights in the woods. Even in the early spring, the forest was freezing and could do some damage to a person unprepared.

  I wouldn’t be able to make it out with a backpack full of gear, not out the front. I’d stored my fanny pack up in the top of the closet, hoping to never need it again.

  My mom’s Bible found its place inside the pack and I secured the bulky bag around my waist, lengthening the belt as far as it would go. I didn’t have any weapons in my room, but I tucked a packet of matches beside the book and grabbed a couple extra pairs of socks and stuffed them in my sleeves. I’d need them as gloves eventually.

  I moved to stand beside the door and wait. They wouldn’t be able to stay up long. Bodey hadn’t slept well in a couple days and John needed to go to his room to most likely plan out how he’d martyr himself. I refused to let that happen. The thought of him going with Rowan like in my dream strengthened my resolve.

  Surprisingly, the thought of leaving them on my own terms, with a purpose, a goal to be proactive and save someone, didn’t hurt as bad as the decision to go with Ethan had. True, I was pregnant and only a term away from delivering. I would be on my own in the woods, but I could do it. The rationed food hadn’t allowed me to gain weight, so I’d been able to walk and behave fairly normal.

  With a plan, my confidence rose and I bounced on the balls of my feet with nervous excitement.

  Would my sadness in leaving ever fade? Maybe not. What if I never saw Bodey again? What if I died out in the woods?

  Worse yet, what if I died in Freedom Pass because I wasn’t brave enough to chance it?

  Their voices ended resolutely and no more sounds came from the living room. I counted to three-hundred to make sure, waiting as long as I could. I needed to go before the sun came up. Before Shane thought to wait for me, watch for me.

  Opening my door silently, I peeked into the center rooms and glanced around. A bulky shadow stretched out on the simple couch, a soft snore giving away Bodey’s state. With him right there, I couldn’t break into the fridge for anything to take. We had biscuits left over from dinner and some chicken legs had been left on the counter. I packed them in a white kitchen cloth and tied the corners to the strap of my pack.

  The only weapon or tool I could take was a knife. The utility knife would have to do, with its retractable blade and sturdy handle. I slipped my boots on at the door, glancing back at my husband.

  I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t just leave. I paused, but what would I say? I was too mad at him to wake him up, but I was also too in love with him to just leave and not give him a fair chance at knowing that I was safe.

  A white sandwich wrapper on the counter served as my paper and I wrote him a note with a pen stuck to the fridge with a magnet on its handle.

  “Bodey, I’m not mad at you. I didn’t run away. Well, I did, but not to get away from you, not to leave you to deal with this on your own. I’m running to get Phahn. I can get out and I plan on coming back for you. I love you. Don’t forget me. Kelly.”

  Deep down I knew he wasn’t willing to give me up, he just couldn’t imagine me dying. I felt the same way. Why else would I leave him and his dad? The note would have to be enough. I tucked it under his arm hanging from the edge of the couch and couldn’t help grazing my finger over his forehead. I backed away and closed my eyes, but still couldn’t leave.

  I crept back to his sleeping form, my anger dissolving. I softly caressed the silken hair of his eyebrow, wishing for a brief moment he would wake up and I wouldn’t have to leave.

  But the thought that i
f he woke up, he’d certainly keep me from leaving, made me step back. We’d had such a short relationship – even though we’d been married for almost six months – because we’d been kept apart.

  My heart longed for him. For who we used to be. How we used to be.

  We would have to return to the woods. This would mean Shane would have to die and Rowan. Maybe even Ethan.

  But not me, John, or Bodey. And not our baby.

  The shadows on his face tore at me. I had to go.

  Hurry! Kelly, go, before you change your mind. And I was close, but I spun on my heel and reached the door without any extra noise.

  If I was caught, Rowan wouldn’t give me any chances. He’d take out his revenge. I wasn’t sure how, but he would do it.

  Escaping was my only option.

  Adrenaline rippled through me, tightening my muscles and lightening the ache of my back. As I rushed down the moonlit path, it was like my stomach had become weightless.

  I could handle that.

  My boots didn’t make a sound in the crumpled grasses as I stretched my legs for the gates.

  A shadow beside the tower made me falter. Was it Shane?

  Chapter 22

  A pinkish orange line faintly ran the eastern skyline with a smudged peach look above. I had about an hour before the sun rose.

  I couldn’t make out the shadow. Maybe my imagination ran alongside me. Or maybe whoever or whatever it was hadn’t seen me yet. I shot a glance over my shoulder, searching the compound in site for anyone following me.

  Okay, I was looking for Ethan, Shane, or Rowan. Anyone. I couldn’t trust anybody. Even John and Bodey in that instant would stop me from succeeding. I couldn’t allow it.

  Sprinting wasn’t an option with the cumbersome swelling in my ankles and wrists. I was guaranteed to trip and fall since I couldn’t see the ground well and my sense of balance threw me further from grace.

  My breathing puffed in time with the pattering of my boots on the path as I traveled in a cross between a jog and speed walk.

  In short order, I reached the gate between the towers. I pounded on the wooden panels with the flat of my hand.