Chapter 8 #3
"No, but my brother's in med school. That's the only reason I know.
" I look at her cautiously. Something is off about this girl, and I can't quite put my finger on it.
She doesn't respond. She just sits with her back hunched, staring at her fidgeting fingers.
Leo is eying her too, a question on his face.
"Has the road been easy so far? I have a friend who travels, and he says it can get... rough." I casually look around and it seems most have become bored with our chatting already. Two of them appear to be asleep.
"Oh yeah, it's been fine, roads are rough, but other than a few bonked heads, it's been quiet. No raiders, so that's a win." I raise my eyebrows in question.
"Don't worry Maple, I'll protect you," he says with a grin that seems to take up his entire face, and he winks at me.
I laugh earnestly. He's too much, but I appreciate his ability to cut through my growing anxiety. The truck hits a bump and my head slaps the bar above me, holding up the canvas. I rub the sore spot and catch Leo biting back his own laugh.
Jerk, I mouth to him, narrowing my eyes, feigning offense.
Silence falls over us for a while as I listen to the clunking of the truck struggling down the dirt packed road.
The gentle sound of whistling wind sneaks through the truck flaps as I torture myself, worrying about what Willow and Linden are doing, already wondering if they're alright.
I take a deep, slow breath and try to picture them home safe, bickering about something.
There’s a short mechanical squeal, followed by a rough lurching stop. Everyone who was previously dozing off now sits alert, an immediate nervous energy falling over the back.
The driver yells something through the back window along the lines of staying put. It’s difficult to hear anything from outside as the wind warbles around the truck bed. We wait, and my body tenses as I hear voices up front, shouting.
No one moves until a loud bang sounds from the front of the truck, causing several of us to jump.
"I think someone else is out there. Should we go?" I ask no one in particular. I curse, because I am closest to the door. Now I hear muffled shouting and I know we’re about to be robbed, or worse.
The meek redhead beside me finally breaks the silence, "We should go help," she mumbles.
I don’t wait to see if anyone else follows as I undo the flap doors and drop the hatch.
There’s some bickering from the back about following orders and sitting tight, but I ignore them.
I feel the young girl’s presence behind me as I round the truck and try to get a good look at what's going on. I have no weapon and no idea how many people are up front. Just as I round the corner enough to see our commanding officer fighting alone with a man dressed in rags––and losing––I’m shoved hard from behind.
My boot clips a rock and I fall, my face colliding with earth roughly. Sand and silt get into my eyes and mouth from my stiff landing. I sit up, sputtering, tears frantically trying to push the dust out of my eyes as I try to gather my surroundings.
I crawl forward and have to blink as I register what I’m seeing. The young girl is standing with a makeshift weapon, helping the lone gentleman subdue our driver.
I yell for help, pulling myself off the ground and am thankful when I look back and see dark figures piling out of the back of the truck.
Finally, I think.
I try to take in my surroundings again, my eyes slowly blinking away the painful dirt lodged in them. We’re mounted on a series of cresting hills, the road bending around some larger dunes to our left, creating a bit of a reprieve from the dust clouds for the moment.
Two men jump to action, hauling the male raider off our driver as he throws frenzied punches.
The young girl is rounding the front of the truck on the other side now, backing away slowly as she watches in horror as her partner is subdued.
Something about the look in her eyes has me wanting to deal with her before the men do, so I move around the scrambling men and walk towards her.
As I come closer and she turns to face me, her back against the truck's front, I realize this poor girl can’t be more than eighteen.
Her eyes have dark circles underneath, her cheeks are sunken.
It strikes me that she’s starving. I watch as she holds out her improvised weapon, a knife strapped to a short stick in a mock spear.
She thrusts it towards me, warning me to stay back.
I throw my hands up in the air as I edge closer to her.
Her partner is already being dragged back towards the truck, and although I suspect I’m not in any real danger, she could probably do some damage to me if she wanted to.
"Hey, it's ok… I get it. Life is really hard these days," my voice cracks a bit with emotion and adrenaline, seeing the tears well in her eyes.
"This world is hard. We all do things when we get desperate," I say soothingly, relaxing my posture. I don’t want to fight her, and what I really want is for the men starting to form a line behind me not to hurt her.
She thrusts again at me angrily and I feel a few standing behind me inch forward. I put my hand up, a silent request for them to wait and, to my surprise, they do. Apparently, no one wants to get stabbed today.
"Can you put the knife down? So no one gets hurt…" I ask softly.
My heart pumps hard in my chest, but my breathing stays even as I watch her. Outwardly, I am the picture of calm and collected. I guess I usually am, in a crisis.
Out of the corner of my eye I see a shadow creeping up on the other side of the truck––it’s the kid, Leo, I realize. He gives me a look and I step forward towards her as he does from the shadows behind the vehicle.
"Look, I’m sure you had your reasons. This place is cruel to people like us." Relating to her is easy, because I do recognize that hungry look in her eyes. I can feel that desperation in my bones.
"No, you don’t understand!" she screams, silent sobs wracking her body as she peers into the endless empty horizon behind me. I see the decision warring within her, her options only to run or to surrender. The dunes won’t be forgiving.
I tell myself she’ll have a better chance of survival if she comes with us, and I hope it's true.
I can feel the others getting impatient, and right as I’m about to say something else Leo leaps forward from his hiding place behind the nose of the truck, grabbing the hand holding the spear. She screams as he wrenches her wrist at an awkward angle.
"I’m so sorry," Leo mutters through clenched teeth, "but I can’t let you hurt my new friend, OK?"
I step forward to help Leo subdue her.
The waiting men push me out of the way and grab the girl, yanking her roughly towards the back of the truck.
"Hey! She’s unarmed! She’s just a kid. Be gentle with her!" I scream at them as they throw her to the ground beside her partner and begin cuffing her. The officer gives me a look and I clamp my mouth shut, despite having a few more choice words for the giant men manhandling the teenage girl.
I turn away from the truck, pressing my still stinging eyes shut, and take a deep breath.
"Hey, you OK?" I hear a quiet voice beside me ask.
I nod. "Yup, just need a minute for my eyes to get all this dust out. I’ll see you in the truck. Thanks for the help."
He leaves me without another word, and I finally open my eyes again. I pause a second to take in my surroundings. I look over the rolling hills, the sharp peaks of sand and dust that seem to dance with the wind. The stumps that litter the golden packed plains.
Far off, bare trees splinter up through the burnt orange landscape like small pieces of dark lightning.
I wonder how many full trees are left in other areas of the country.
If the dead forests are still standing thick, idle and haunting, waiting for leaves that will never come.
There are so few standing tall here now, firewood being a necessity.
Even though they’re barren, they’re still beautiful.
I prefer them to the stumps. The stumps seem so… final.
I’ve never seen this area before, and I try to imagine it covered in green plains instead of tawny packed earth and rock. I try to imagine blooming trees and animals and blue-kissed skies, but I can’t. A lifetime of deprivation has stunted my imagination.
Breathing deeply, I turn back towards the truck, hoping we miss the thick clouds I see coming towards us over the rolling hills behind.
As I pass the driver, he gives me a curt nod before I hop back into the truck. The last one in again.
They’ve secured the two raiders at the far back, everyone giving them a wide berth as they sit there, hands tied together.
The man sits stoically. The girl, however, has silent tears steadily streaming down her face.
I feel for her. Her fate at The Centre won’t be a good one.
They don’t keep prisoners long, our ever-dwindling resources making for quick sentences.
I pray whatever punishment she gets is merciful.