Authors: Daelynn Quinn
Chapter
15
Now
that the memories are rushing back I try to make sense of everything, put it
back in order and make a mental timeline of what occurred.
After
my parents died, and Evie and I were taken by the Enforcers, we were put in the
back of a box truck. There were three other people with us in the dark cargo
area, lit only with an old rusty, camping lantern: a gray-haired, bearded man,
probably in his sixties; a middle-aged woman with dark skin and short, frizzy
hair; and a twenty-something young man, who introduced himself to me as Marcus.
“I’m
Pollen,” I said. “And this is my niece, Evie.” Her arms squeezed my waist like
a belt cinched two sizes too tight as I stroked her light tawny hair trying to
comfort her. “Do you know where they are taking us?” I asked, still incredibly
shaken from the intrusion.
“I
overheard some guys talking about a camp for survivors,” said the old man.
“I
heard they’re taking us to a hospital to be quarantined, just in case,” pipes
in the woman.
“No,
there’s no point to putting us in quarantine,” said Marcus. “We’ve already been
exposed and we’re fine.”
“Yes,
we may not be sick, but we could certainly be carrying the virus. And if we can
spread it just as easily as the sick can, we’re just as dangerous,” said the
woman, obviously knowledgeable about epidemics. I thought she might have been a
nurse.
“Have
you picked up a newspaper lately,” Marcus retorted. “Or seen the news? The
entire country has been exposed. Unless they’re shipping us to the south,
they’ve got other plans in store for us.”
I
eyed Marcus curiously, “What do you think they want with us?”
“Oh
Lord, here we go,” started the woman, rolling her eyes and shifting her seat.
Marcus slid over to sit closer to me as if he didn’t want the others to hear.
“I’ve
heard rumors,” he whispered, “that there are some people, rich, powerful
people, hiding out down in the bunkers to avoid exposure. And the survivors are
being rounded up for genetic experimentation. I’m not a scientist so I don’t
know details. And then there’s another rumor that they plan on nuking the
entire continent of Deimos and starting a colony down there. Either way, I have
a bad feeling about this.” His ominous suggestions sent chills down my spine.
Evie squeezed me tighter.
“Auntie
Pollen, what is he talking about?” she asked, through a veil of tears.
I
looked down at her, but before I could answer, Marcus leaned over me to address
Evie, “Nothing you need to worry about, darling. We’re just going on a little
adventure. Your aunt will take good care of you.” He smiled at me and placed
his hand on my knee, giving it a light rub. His reassurance actually put me at
ease as well, even after his foreboding comments.
The
ride to Crimson was long and uncomfortable. Most of the time was spent in
silence, with some occasional chitchat. Marcus told me about his work and his
mother, whom he took care of. I talked about Drake and Evie, and my engagement
to Glenn. At some point I fell asleep.
When
I awoke I was lying against Marcus’s shoulder, with Evie’s head resting on my
lap. We’d arrived at Crimson late at night. Marcus stayed with Evie and me
while we entered a massive building to be processed. There were Enforcers lined
up by the entrance and armed guards followed us in.
We
entered a large warehouse-sized room with blinding white lights. Despite it
being the middle of the night, the room was filled with people. Most were like
me: confused, angry, wanting answers. We stood in a winding line, separated by
ropes, so long I couldn’t even see what was at the end of it. I welcomed being
on my feet for a while since I’d been sitting in that truck for what seemed
like hours. Marcus continued to keep Evie and me company while we waited in
line for almost two hours. He told Evie fairy tale stories and jokes that make
her crack up like an eggshell. I thought he’d make a great father one day.
A
woman sitting at a table with some paperwork signaled me to proceed. I brought
Evie with me. This part of the memory is cloudy, perhaps because I was
distracted by Evie, or Marcus, or maybe just the atmosphere of the room.
Next,
Evie and I were walking down a long brightly lit corridor along with a mob of
other tired, confused, and angry people. There were doors at each side, most of
which had a small rectangular window at eye level. As we passed one of them,
Evie stopped. She tugged my arm. “What is it?” I asked.
She
pointed into the door, which was mistakenly left ajar, “It’s Glenn! He’s here!”
My
insides quivered in hopeless grief. I recalled his name in the newspaper
deceased list, which I crumpled up and threw in the recycle bin in an act of
denial. I squatted down, on the verge of spilling my tears, and said, “No,
honey. That’s not possible. That man just looks…” I turned to look and couldn’t
believe my own eyes. It
was
Glenn. I
cracked the door open a little more to get a better look. He was standing with
two other men, all of them in blue uniform, Enforcers. A fourth man in civilian
clothing lay under them on the floor, unconscious.
“Glenn!”
I burst through the door running towards him, ready to embrace him. But he
turned and gave me a stern, cold look, which stopped me in my tracks. I’d never
seen him like this before. Angry, yes. Jealous, yes. But this was something
different. This was…disdain.
One
of the men, who looked to be about forty, shouted at Glenn, “Who the hell is
this? Get her out of here!” Glenn charged toward me and pushed me out of the
room. Then he slammed the door, scowling at me through the window. My heart
shattered into millions of tiny pieces raining down like confetti. I’d lost
Lex, Drake, both my parents, and now Glenn. Twice. All I had left was Evie.
“Evie?”
I didn’t see her. I left her right by the door, but she had disappeared. I
started to freak out. The crowd was too thick and she was too small. I tried to
go back, but the crowd continued to push me forward. My only hope was to catch
up with her in the conference room we were all being ushered to, that is, if
she didn’t get trampled on the way.
The
massive hall was already three quarters full, and more people kept squeezing
in. There didn’t appear to be any furniture. Just standing room and a large
projection screen wall in front. I stood on my toes and tried to peer over the
shoulders of those in front of me, “Evie!” I kept shouting, but the noise from
the crowd drowned my voice. She’d never hear me anyway.
A
short distance ahead of me a man with shaggy auburn hair turned around and
waved. It was Marcus. With so many people in my way I could not reach him, so
he maneuvered through the crowd in my direction. As he closed in I saw he was
holding something in his hand.
“Did
you lose something?” he asked as he pulled Evie between two people. Tears of
relief streamed from my eyes. I picked her up and squeezed her close to me as a
mother would, smelling her sweetly scented hair.
“I
was so scared. I thought I’d lost you,” I said to Evie, who also looked
relieved to see me. “I don’t know how to thank you, Marcus.” He shook his head
and waved his hand. “No thanks necessary.” He glanced up as the back doors to
the room shut. The lights dimmed and everyone turned toward the screen where a
video began to play.
A
well-dressed man with gleaming silver hair and a neatly manicured beard sat in
a fine leather chair and spoke to the camera, to us. “Welcome to Crimson
Survival Refuge, formerly Crimson State Penitentiary. My name is Edgar
Wisecraft.”
The
name sounded hauntingly familiar and it didn’t take me long to realize why.
Edgar Wisecraft was the CEO of Wise Petroleum Corporation, the world’s largest
international oil company. He’s one of the richest and most powerful
billionaires in the world. His voice continued, “You have been brought here
because you are special. You survived a biochemical attack from our southern
neighbors in Deimos, who seek to destroy our nation, our way of life. It is
imperative that we keep you safe and alive, until a peace treaty has been
reached. You all are our only hope for the survival and prosperity of our
nation.
For
the time being this will be your new home. Unlike the previous residents, you
will be welcome to roam around as you wish. You are not prisoners. You are
survivors. When you were processed in, you were assigned a room number, a room
that you will be sharing with one other person. If you have family here, you
may be separated. It is for the comfort and safety of everyone that rooms be
shared only between people of the same gender. Children will be permitted to
stay with their mothers, space permitting. Otherwise, they will be escorted to
their own wing, with plenty of adult supervision.
The
Enforcers you see in blue are here for your protection. Respect them. You will
be periodically pulled for blood tests and medical checkups. This is for your
own health and safety. I know all of you have questions. Rest assured they will
be answered soon enough. Once again, welcome to Crimson.”
The
screen went black. Tears were still streaming down my face as I kept picturing
that expression on Glenn’s face and his reaction to seeing me. After that, and
watching the video, the possibility of Marcus’s theory was quickly becoming
more and more plausible.
Marcus
startled me as he placed his arm around my shoulders. “Are you okay?” he asked.
Of
course I wasn’t okay. I’d lost nearly everyone I love. I was entrapped in a
former prison and every shred of the life I knew was gone. But I had to hold it
together for Evie’s sake. I couldn’t let her know I was falling to pieces.
“I’m
fine,” I said as I wiped away the tears and gave Marcus an unconvincing smile.
“I’m just a little shaken about losing Evie. I’ll be okay.”
I
don’t remember how we got out of the overly crowded room. The next thing I
remember was having the top of my hand scanned. They must have stamped it when
I was being processed with some sort of ink only visible in UV light.
The
next part of my memory is difficult to relive. I remember the Enforcers taking
Evie from me and then I was escorted into a small room, where they strapped me
to a table, just like the one in the medical facility, with my head in a vise.
Had I known what was going to happen next I probably would have struggled. A
high-pitched scream echoed from the room next to mine. I’d recognize Evie’s
voice anywhere. I twisted and writhed, trying to get out, but it was too late.
The straps were locked in place.
“Evie!”
I screamed out, hoping that my voice would bring her comfort.
Through
the walls came a muffled, “Auntie Pollen! It hurts!” What was left of my broken
heart dissolved. The helplessness consumed me as I surrendered to the table I
was strapped to.
A
doctor entered the room. At least he looked like a doctor, wearing a white lab
coat. He said nothing to me when he sat in a squeaky stool to my left. I
wondered whether or not I should say something to him, perhaps complain about
the tightness of the straps. That’s when I heard the buzzing and felt the
needle pierce the flesh of my temple.
The
urge to scream was heavy, for the pain was excruciating, but I didn’t want Evie
to hear me. So I suppressed it. I bit down on my tongue and dug my fingernails
into my palms. The pain in my hands and tongue took the edge off the pain of
the tattoo. By the time it was over my emotions maxxed out and I felt numb.
It
was a while before I saw Evie again. I was taken to a jail cell on the second
floor of the block. The doors remained open and we were free to roam the
building, but it was still a jail cell nonetheless. They actually stopped using
the above ground cellblocks years ago. They figured it was too costly and time
consuming to transport the prisoners below ground every summer, so they just
kept them there year round. For all I know there may still be surviving
prisoners down there.
It
was a small room, about the size of my bedroom. A pair of bunk beds sat in the
right hand corner and a sink and toilet flanked the left wall. Fortunately, the
people running this joint had the decency to erect a screen around that area.
The idea of using the toilet out in the open made my stomach turn. There was
also a small desk and chair at the foot of the bunk bed.
My
roommate was a woman named Lynx. She was a quiet, soft-spoken woman, about
twelve years older than me. And very intelligent. She used to be a research
librarian at East Gibson University. She read a lot and seemed to retain all of
the information she learned. Lynx spoke quite often about other places in the
world, their histories and cultures. Once she got started on a subject, it was
hard to shut her up.
I
did a lot of mundane things around the refuge. Playing board games with Evie.
Having lunch with Marcus. Girl talk with Lynx and another woman I met named
Respa, who is only a few years older than me. Marcus and I continued to grow
closer. He was very fond of Evie and always went out of his way to make her
smile.
Every
night Lynx, Respa, and I would get together in our cell and play cards, which I
snuck out from the recreation area. We’re supposed to leave those things there,
but I got so bored at night sitting in the cell with nothing to do. At first I
felt a little guilty about stealing them, but it went unnoticed, so I just
enjoyed my time with my girlfriends.
One
night in particular, Respa was late to our nightly game. Lynx and I were
sitting on the bottom bunk facing each other, holding our cards, making idle
small talk. When she arrived, her shoulder-length, onyx hair was disheveled,
olive skin flushed with a shade of pink so bold it looked like makeup, and she
carried an impish grin on her face.