Chapter 8.2

Vicki shook her head. “No, the group was all male,” she said. “He wanted to come back and find you, he really did but they wouldn’t allow him. It’s kind of a rule.”

“Oh?” I asked.

“Yeah, if you’re military or a prisoner, once you’re in, you can’t go back for your family or friends,” Vicki said. “It puts them at risk.”

I looked sideways at her. “So…”

“Yes, I broke the rules for you,” she said. “And I will get a severe tongue lashing when we get to camp, if I’m lucky.”

“Huh?” I asked.

“They could choose to make an example of me,” she said. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

I nodded and she reached over and squeezed my shoulder. I smiled and kicked the rock at my toe, sending it skittering along the ground. We must have walked for an hour before I started to see hints of life again. Another truck fell in line behind us. Nobody made a move to stop it, must be resistance. Then I saw a pair of manned anti aircraft guns on either side of the path. The men and women sitting there waved to us as we passed.

“Looks like a good haul!” one of them shouted down.

“Just around three hundred political prisoners!” someone shouted up. “Plus a ton of supplies and prisoners of our own.”

“Awesome! Think there was any beer in the supplies?” another person shouted down followed by a yelp of pain. “What was that for!” A chorus of laughs reached my ears and I couldn’t help but join in.

***

An hour or so later, I sat in Nick’s tent, slowly removing the armor when I heard the flap open and I looked back. Nick stood there with my father behind him. Nick smiled weakly and looked to the ground. “He wanted to come say hello, since you guys really didn’t get to talk much down by the tracks,” he said. “I’ll leave you two alone.”

I tossed the arm guard on the pile at my feet and turned to face my father as Nick stepped out. He took a seat on Nick’s bed across from me. I sat there in silence for a few moments before clearing my throat. “Yes?” I asked.

“I just want to look at you,” he said. “I never got to watch you grow up. You look so much like your mother.”

“Except I have your hair and eyes,” I said and returned to removing my gear.

He smiled. “That is true,” he said. “So, what have you been doing?”

“Since you were taken away?” I asked. “Well, I stayed with the Jamesons like you said but that only lasted until I was fifteen.”

“The military drafted you,” he sighed. “Well, I guess that’s better than the alternative. You were a soldier, you deserted.”

I bit my lower lip and looked down at my legs. “No, not exactly,” I muttered. My hand clenched in a fist.

“Then what?”

“I’m not allowed to be a front lines soldier like I was trained for, I’m a mechanic,” I said. “I fix 'bots for various positions, recon ‘bots, sentry drones, sniffers, the like.”

“What do you mean you are not allowed on the front lines?” he asked sitting forward. “The only soldiers not allowed…on the front lines…have…”

I looked down and closed my eyes. Reaching down to my ankle, I grabbed my pant leg and pulled it up to my knee. “It’s both legs,” I said, “and my spine.”

“What happened?” he asked.

I licked my lips and began to tell him everything that happened since I joined the military. He sat quietly and listened, never interrupting. He would nodded or shake his head occasionally and his fist clenched when I told him I lived in a slum, but he remained silent. When I finished, he pursed his lips for a moment before the tension left his face. “I should have been there for you,” he said. “I should have had one of our hackers look for you, I should’ve—”

“All it would have done is put us in an execution chamber,” I cut him off. “I know Vicki said that the group you came in with was all men, but did, did they rescue mom?”

Father’s eyes fell and his shoulders slumped. “We were separated in the camp, they keep the men and women separate,” he said. “I haven’t seen her since we got to the camp. I wouldn’t keep your hopes up.”

“I thought you were dead,” I muttered. “I don’t hold any reservations that mom’s alive, I just thought…that maybe…”

He nodded and stood up. “Yeah, I know, I miss her too. I prayed every night that you would be alright and I guess someone heard me. Look, I have things to attend to. You’re going to be staying here, right, with Nick?”

I nodded. “That’s the plan I think, at least until I have to resume my position in the hanger.”

“Right,” he said nodded and scratching his beard. “You can join me for dinner tonight, if you want.” He kissed my forehead and stepped out, leaving me alone once more. I slowly finished removing the armor and heard the tent flap flip back. Nick offered me a gentle smile and held out a pair of jeans and a tee shirt.

“Those are Missy’s. She’s one of the cooks and about your size. There’s a bra in there too but I’m no good at judging bra sizes. How are you holding up?” he asked.

Somehow I doubted that bit about bra sizes. I sniffled and rubbed my nose on the back of my hand. “I guess as well as I could be,” I said. “It’s just so much to get used to.”

“Yeah, it’ll be easier for you, at least hopefully. You can hold onto the familiarity of your home for now. I think eventually you’re going to have to make the transition to either our place or here,” he said. “You can throw those clothes on and I’ll show you to the showers. We can get that tear gas stuff off your skin, otherwise you’ll get some nasty chemical burns.”