Chapter 26
Twenty-Six
Having no clue where we were going, I couldn’t even venture a guess as to how long we’d be in the van, but I definitely hadn’t expected to drive to Wright-Patterson Air Force Base.
That was where we went, though, which meant that less than forty-five minutes after loading into the van, we were climbing out.
A hangar stood in front of us, large and imposing, the doors open to reveal what I would have described as a mid-size private plane.
I stared at it in disbelief as Ramirez and Montgomery retrieved our luggage, totally caught off guard by the range of emotions swirling through me as well as the memories the sight of the aircraft brought back.
I’d only ever been in a plane twice, once on my way to California, and then a week later when I flew back to Ohio.
On the way there, I’d been too worried to absorb much about the trip, and on the way back, I’d been terrified the authorities would be waiting to arrest me when I landed at Dayton International Airport.
Neither flight had left much of an impression on me, and I’d never thought I would fly anywhere again.
Being fertile, travel was limited, and even if it hadn’t been, it wasn’t like I had a lot of money to waste on vacations.
“Ara,” Hilary barked, snapping me out of my stupor.
All the other women had already retrieved their luggage, and our fertility counselor was impatiently pointing at mine. I moved toward it in a kind of trance.
Ramirez stood beside my suitcase, watching me. His dark eyes were intense but there was also something searching in his expression. I didn’t know what it was or what to make of him or what to think about this situation, though. I was too overwhelmed.
“This way!” Sergeant Davis called as he headed into the hangar, waving for us to follow.
We did, the other two soldiers flanking us and Hilary taking up the rear.
After a few steps, Bette fell into step beside me. “Have you ever flown?”
“Once.” I shook my head when I realized that wasn’t right. “Twice, actually. To California to visit my aunt when I was sixteen then the flight home.”
“How was it?” She was eyeing the plane like she thought it might explode at any moment.
“It was fine. Not scary. Just boring.”
Bette swallowed but said nothing.
I glanced around, realizing she wasn’t the only one who looked unsure about the trip.
Even Hilary didn’t seem thrilled, but I wasn’t sure if she was scared of flying, or because we were going farther away than any of us had originally thought.
Hilary had a husband, after all, and a son.
She couldn’t be very happy about the turn of events no matter what she’d said earlier.
A handful of masked and uniformed soldiers were scattered throughout the hangar, but only a couple paid attention to us as we approached.
They stood beside a table with familiar looking objects spread across it, wearing latex gloves in addition to masks.
Inwardly, I groaned, but the packaged tests weren’t really a surprise.
Of course, they would want to make sure we weren’t infected before taking us to our destination.
“Welcome, ladies,” a female soldier said as we approached.
“Before you board, we need to do a quick health assessment. Now, I know this isn’t your first test, but I also know it’s not something anyone looks forward to, so we’ll make it as quick and painless as possible.
If you could form a line, please, we can get this done. ”
We did as we were told, Bette and I ending up in the middle and Malika at the front.
Even though I’d seen dozens of tests being administered throughout my life, I still lifted myself on the tips of my toes and watched as Malika pulled her mask down.
The soldier removed the swab from the package and stuck it up the other woman’s nose, swirling it around and causing Malika to swear.
After a few seconds, the soldier inserted the swab in a vial.
“Take a seat while you wait for the results,” the soldier administering the test said, then turned her attention to Ginger, who was next in line.
Malika replaced her mask, grabbed her suitcase, and pulled it toward the chairs.
One after the other, we had a swab inserted into our noses – Hilary included – then we were told to wait. It didn’t take long to get the test results, thankfully, and less than ten minutes later, we were all given a clean bill of health.
Davis, who’d stood silently with the other soldiers while this played out, waved to the plane and said, “Leave your suitcases and climb aboard while you wait for the others to arrive.”
“The others?” Ginger said just loud enough that those around her could hear.
The other women and I exchanged confused looks as we deposited our luggage beside Ramirez, who was once again in charge of the bags.
We were silent as we headed for the plane, climbing the stairs in a single file line that moved slower than it should have.
I was toward the middle of the group, wedged between the very pregnant Bette and the very tiny Ivy, and I craned my neck as I climbed, hoping to get a look at the interior.
It wasn’t until Bette had stepped in and moved aside that I was able to see anything, though, but the plush seats and wide rows weren’t nearly as shocking as the sight of the other women already on board.
The eyes of a couple dozen masked women followed us as we moved deeper into the plane.
They were scattered throughout, most of them in rows by themselves as if wanting to be alone, and despite the differences in ages, ethnicities, and physical appearance, they didn’t look much different than us.
Fear, confusion, anger, and even sadness radiated from the group, the wide range of emotions bonding us before we’d even had a chance to meet.
Like us, these women had been ripped from their lives and brought here with no explanation and no idea where they were going or for how long. Or if there was even an end in sight.
“What’s going on?” Bette whispered.
“They’re other women in the program, probably from nearby counties.”
My friend turned into an empty row, her blue eyes wide as they skimmed the other women.
I took a seat next to her, knowing it was useless to try to get a row to myself. Davis had said others would be arriving soon, and the thought of sitting beside a stranger wasn’t welcome. My emotions were too raw, my confusion too stark, and my worry too great to make small talk.
The other women in our group took seats, and some of the originals moved so they were sitting beside one another, obviously having the same thought I had.
Hilary stood at the front of the plane, talking with a handful of women older than us.
Other fertility counselors, no doubt. There were four in total, telling me three other counties were present.
Greene and Montgomery, and probably Clark as well.
What other counties would be represented by the time we left?
Maybe Shelby, which was farther north and explained why it was taking them longer to arrive. Possibly others. I wasn’t sure.
Quiet conversation filled the plane, but Bette and I remained silent. She ran her hand over her round stomach, her expression pinched with worry. Had she considered that she might not be able to go home after the baby was born? Would she care?
She didn’t love her husband even though she loved the life he’d given her, and while he loved that she was beautiful and one of the few women who could give him a baby, I thought that might be as far as his affection went.
He would definitely be furious if she wasn’t allowed to return home, though, and I didn’t think she’d be happy about it either.
About twenty minutes after climbing onto the plane, commotion became audible from outside. The women sitting around me began to shift, and silence settled over the group. Minutes ticked by, and we could hear voices but no words, and I imagined yet another group of fertile women lining up for tests.
The anticipation inside the plane was palpable by the time footsteps pounded against the stairs.
The first woman appeared a few seconds later.
She looked around as she moved farther into the plane, fear radiating from her.
Her face was red and splotchy from crying, her blue eyes swollen and red, and even with the mask on, I could tell she was barely out of her teens.
Behind her, more women climbed onto the plane. Their expressions were a mirror of the first woman’s, but they were all different ages and races, and only two were obviously pregnant.
There were seven in the group, not including the fertility counselor, who entered last and immediately made a beeline for the others. Even though they were in charge, they looked as morose as the rest of us, but I had no sympathy for them. They were as much prison guards as the soldiers were.
A few minutes after the last woman stepped onto the plane, more footsteps sounded, and the soldiers appeared.
Five total, but only one was familiar. Ramirez glanced around as he moved to an empty row at the front of the plane, his gaze briefly stopping on me before he took a seat.
I was oddly comforted by his presence even though I didn’t know if it would matter.
Seconds later, the door was pulled shut and the fertility counselors settled in. Looked like Ramirez was the only soldier from our group who would accompany us.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” a masculine voice said over the loudspeaker, “this is your captain speaking. We’ll be taking off shortly, so please fasten your belts and remain seated until you’re told it’s safe to move about the cabin.
Flight time is expected to be a little less than four hours, and since the weather looks clear, I don’t expect any turbulence. Thanks, and have a good flight.”
“Four hours,” I said, trying to imagine how far away that was and where we might end up.