Chapter Twelve
Jack’s camp was not far from Des’ preferred spot. To Dahlia, after growing used to the forest, this camp looked like civilization. Perhaps every man in the clearing had escaped from somewhere, but the New Zealanders had done so with style. A group of well-made tents surrounded a small cooking fire, and a pot held over the top indicated no shortage of food. A few of the men around the circle had cushions underneath them as they sat on the ground. They had even managed a small laundry line strung between the two tallest tents.
All of it made Dahlia feel she had joined the wrong group. Jack called for his people to introduced themselves including one named Benjamin.
“How far have you come?” Benny, the other Benjamin, passed around some of the stew he had made.
“Counting the thousands of miles by plane?” Des looked up.
Dahlia tuned out. She had listened politely as everyone introduced themselves to each other. She was now more than ready to sleep.
Jack touched her shoulder. “Did you want to wash up? We have that soap, and Paul says he grabbed some clothes last time he was finding food that might fit you.”
“New clothes? Seriously?”
He nodded.
“Yeah.” She scrambled to her feet. “Thank you.”
He led her to one of the tents they had erected at the camp. “Paul’s great at grabbing stuff. We’re miles from town, but people go camping up river a little bit. Here, take your pick.” He held the flap open.
She looked at the rack of clothes. “How’d he get all of these?”
“I told you. He’s good at grabbing things.”
“Including a metal clothing rack?”
“He has mysterious powers.”
Dahlia nodded, pushing them apart. “These are even my size.”
“I’m telling you. Mysterious powers.” He picked out a shirt and handed it to her. “I bet this would look good on you.”
She frowned.
“What?”
“I can’t wear that.”
Jack looked at it. “Why not?”
“It’s blue.”
“And?”
“Royal blue.”
“I still don’t see the problem.” Jack smiled and held the shirt in front of her. “It would look good with your eyes.”
“Only legislators wear royal blue.”
Jack chuckled. “I think if we get ourselves caught, you wearing the wrong color shirt would probably be the least of our problems.”
“True,” Dahlia conceded, pulling off her old shirt. “You wouldn’t have a new bra for me in there, would you?”
Jack pulled something out. “Don’t know if it’s the right size.”
Dahlia took it, checking the tag. “Eh, close enough. Biggest thing is it’s clean.”
He watched her set the new shirt and bra on a chair nearby and unhook the bra she wore to stand in profile.
She slid it off, pausing for a second. “I’m sorry. Am I making you uncomfortable? I’m still getting used to people caring when I take my clothes off.”
“No problem.” Jack found a new pair of pants and underwear. “These should be about the right size.”
“Thanks.” Dahlia hooked the new bra behind her back and took the clothes from him. “Did you get these tents from the campsite too?”
“Not like we brought them with us from our camps,” Jack said.
“Right.” She smiled sheepishly.
“Have you ever been to a camp? Our camps I mean.”
Dahlia shook her head. “Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure.”
“Not sure what pleasure there is to be had at any of them.”
“I didn’t mean—”
He waved the rest of the sentence away. “Some women left to go hiking a while ago. I imagine they were rather confused when they came back to find their tents gone.”
“I’d imagine so. It traps the heat though doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, that’s why we tend to stay outside during the day,” Jack said.
“You know, it probably would have been smart for me to actually wash myself before beginning to change.” She paused, halfway out of her pants. “I’m just going to get these dirty right away in my state.”
“There’s another pond not far away,” he said. “A deeper, cleaner one.”
“You’re very accommodating here.”
“We’ve been living here a while. We tried to make ourselves comfortable.”
Kicking off the old pants, Dahlia then picked up the new clothes he had given her. “Point me in the right direction.”
“I’ll show you.” Jack held the tent flap open for her. The voices around the campfire sounded louder and engrossed in whatever was being discussed. Jack nodded the other direction, allowing Dahlia to follow him. They walked in silence a little ways.
Jack cleared his throat. “So you and Benjamin...”
“Ben?” She looked at him.
“Your Benjamin, not ours.”
“Ben.” Dahlia nodded. “What about him?”
“Are you and him...?”
“Are we...?” she prompted.
“Together,” Jack finished.
Dahlia frowned. “Together for what?”
“Like a relationship.”
“You mean like marriage?” She paused for a moment. “Heather’s been meaning to explain the whole marriage concept to me.”
“It’s like that, but less serious,” Jack said. “It’s more a trial for marriage.”
She tried to find the right word. “Monogamous?”
Jack smiled and seemed to find that funny. “I suppose.”
“Well then, no.”
“So you aren’t...anything.”
Uncertain what he meant, she hesitated. “I feel like I’m not really following this conversation...but then again, that’s been a pretty common occurrence of late. Anything what?”
“Like...” Jack paused, continued again slowly, “Like, anything more than normal friends.”
“Not sure you could even call us friends.” Dahlia gave a derisive laugh. “Why do you want to know?”
“I was just wondering. You were out in the woods alone...”
“He has a habit of following me around.”
Jack nodded, looking more or less pleased. “Almost there.”
* * * *
After the third of the younger boys had disappeared into the forest, Ben got up. The sound of them shuffling in a grove of trees just outside a clearing was easy enough to follow. He stood behind them, looking over their heads into the clearing. A still pool with running water on either side sat in the middle, illuminated by the moon.
Ben coughed, making the boys jump. “Go back to camp.”
“But...” one protested.
He gave them a look that left no room for argument. They might not have been from his camp, but he was still in charge. He waited for them to leave before moving out of the clearing.
Dahlia jumped. “Mother of...you know, I really shouldn’t be surprised. Every time I try to wash... Should I just send you a bulletin?”
“You don’t need to. You’re always washing.” Ben crossed his arm. “I didn’t even know you were here. I followed the mass migration of camp fifteen year olds.”
“What?” She frowned.
“Didn’t you see the group of younger guys out there using you washing up for a peep show?”
Her face didn’t change.
He shook his head. “You really need to be more aware of your surroundings.”
“I need to start getting used to people caring what I look like naked.” She moved towards the bank, the water dropping below her waist and then knees as she got closer to shore. “Toss me my towel, won’t you?”
He held it out. “Where’d you get a towel?”
“Paul’s apparently a master cat burglar.” Dahlia took the towel and wiped herself off. “We have clothes, towels, soap...do you want to wash up? You could use it.”
He crossed his arms. “Trying to get me to take my clothes off.”
“You’ve uncovered my cunning plan.” She tossed the towel back at him and picked up the clothes. “Don’t flatter yourself. Shirt off, maybe. Anything below that really isn’t the most attractive part of a man.”
He didn’t respond, watching her pull the clothes on. “It isn’t green.”
“What?” She looked up.
“Your shirt. It isn’t green. It’s what, black?”
“Blue.” She pulled it on. “Apparently a legislator went camping recently.”
He looked at her, watching her tie the shirt around her waist, the neckline reaching relatively low on her chest. “You look good in it.”
She looked at him cautiously. “Thank you.”
“I mean...” He shook his head. “If we need to sneak in anywhere, you being dressed as a legislator is going to help.”
“How does that arise from I ‘look good in it’?” Dahlia frowned.
He pulled off his shirt. “You have soap?”
She handed him the bar, before crossing her arms. “I’m starting to think you have a pathological need to act like a jackass.”
“It’s what I was supposed to do, wasn’t it?” Ben took the soap, took off his pants, and jumped into the water, swimming out deeper before she could respond.
* * * *
The cooking fire burned low, but was still more than visible in the growing darkness. Dahlia stood back in the darkness, watching for a long moment. If circumstances had been different, it could have been a peaceful place—like the small grove of trees all the girls had used to play in while still in Silver.
Of course, the men around shattered that illusion. Only men, it seemed. Des was nowhere to be seen, and Heather... Dahlia’s eyes swept the clearing. Off on the far side, Heather’s distinctly feminine shape was just visible, sitting on a cushioned stump someone had fashioned into a chair.
Not far off, some of the younger men grouped together, whispering. She suspected any woman fascinated them.
Dahlia allowed herself to smile, moving along the tree line outside the camp, before cutting towards the stump. She took the brush Heather held. “Let me.”
“You’re going to brush my hair?” Her sister twisted to look at her.
“I won’t hurt you.” Dahlia smiled. “I used to do it for all the girls in my dorm back in Rose.”
Heather smiled a little sadly and turned back to face front. “Right, you actually had a normal school life.”
She began to brush gently. “You made it through most of the Rose curriculum, didn’t you?”
“Yeah,” Heather responded, “but for most of it I was trying to convince myself that I wasn’t attracted to girls. Des and I actually met while we were in Rose, you know.”
Dahlia only hesitated a moment. “Were you...doing whatever, in school then?”
“We had this, instant connection,” Heather said. “That was fun to try to ignore. No matter what we did, we just couldn’t seem to stay away from each other. We managed to stay together when they sent us away.”
She nodded, beginning to try to work the brush through the knots in Heather’s shoulder-length hair. “Can’t say I ever even thought about lesbians while I lived in the dorms.”
“It seems most people don’t.”
“Then again...” Dahlia laughed to herself. “I didn’t consider a lot of things before I ended up here. It’s been sort of a crash course in alternative thought.”
“I imagine the whole thing with Ben isn’t making things easier.” Heather turned her head slightly to look at Dahlia.
“There is no ‘thing’ with Ben,” Dahlia insisted. “Hold still.”
“Are you sure?”
“Really.” She frowned, pushing Heather’s head back forward. “I’m sick of that being all anyone asks about. Can we talk about something else?”
“But that’s what sisters do, isn’t it? Talk about relationships?”
“Maybe in your neck of the woods.” Dahlia paused, trying to work a particularly difficult knot out with her fingers. “I’m still a little foggy about the whole relationship concept.”
“What about it?”
“All the levels, mostly,” Dahlia said. “But that’s not important.” She worked out another knot. Then, she began twirling the waves around her finger to make curls. “You have beautiful hair. I think you should grow it out.”
“We’re not allowed to,” Heather said. “Nothing that hit the shoulders.”
“Well, I’m not allowed to wear blue.” Dahlia smiled at her. “You know, we’re not that different in size. I bet some of the clothes Paul stole would fit you. If you want to get out of that ugly grey thing.”
“What if I like this color?” Heather raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t think it’s physically possible to like that color,” Dahlia answered.
“Heather smiled and stood. “Do you want me to plait your hair for you? It’ll keep it out of your face.”
Dahlia nodded, handing Heather the brush and switching places. “Do you think...?”
Heather started to work the brush through her hair. “Think what?”
She clicked her tongue once. “I don’t even know what I was going to say. I...What it like was, I suppose.”
“What was what like?”
“Living at the camps?” Dahlia said.
“Can’t say it’s one of the more positive memories of my life.”
“I’ve never seen a camp,” she said.
Heather snorted. “You wouldn’t like it.”
“How would you know that?”
“You don’t like roughing it when it’s green and beautiful around you. Why would you like it when you’re stuck inside a concrete box that’s filled with mostly mud, maybe a little grass? It’s not a pretty place. It’s not even a mildly attractive place.”
“Why did you stay then?”
“What?”
“You could have left, couldn’t you?” Her head jerked back slightly as Heather pulled.
“Sorry.”
Dahlia waved it away. “Couldn’t you? You were a guard, not a prisoner.”
“Where would I have gone?” Heather gave another mildly hard yank, then started braiding Dahlia’s hair. “The only job I could possible get was the one I had. It’s how you sidestep the entire issue of homosexuality, after all. You put us out of sight.”
She considered the words. “And the men?”
“What about them?”
“There are male homosexuals I take it?”
Heather hesitated. “Yes.”
“What do they do then?” Dahlia asked. “I mean, lesbians are supposed to be mannish, so homosexual males would arguably be womanish then, wouldn’t they? That would theoretically make them better than regular men.”
“You’d think that’s how it would work.”
“Think,” she repeated. “So that’s not how it works?”
“No,” Heather said. “That’s not how it works.”
Silence fell between them for a moment.
“Are you going to tell me how it does, then?” Dahlia finally asked.
“You don’t need to think about it.”
“Think about what?”
“The camps.”
“But I want to know.”
Silence.
“Heather, if you don’t tell me, I’m just going to ask someone else.”
“Do you have a hair tie?” Heather asked.
Dahlia slid one off her wrist. “Please tell me.”
Her sister sighed. “They go the way of any other undesirable man.”
“Undesirable?”
“Well, they’re useless, really.” Heather wrapped the tie around the end of the braid, smoothing Dahlia’s hair down across her scalp a final time before stepping back. “Men are used for recreation and procreation. If they don’t want to have sex with women, they’re useless.”
“So what happens to useless people? Useless men.”
“I supposed the politically correct term is that they’re ‘disposed of’.”
“They’re, ‘disposed of’,” Dahlia repeated. She turned when no answer came. “I don’t think I know what that means.”
“I don’t think you want to know what that means,” Heather said.
Dahlia just looked at her.
“Well, they, all undesirables, they mysteriously have heart attacks it seems.” Heather sighed. “It nearly seems that being gay gives men some genetic defect.”
“Homosexual, you mean.”
“Gay, homosexual.” Heather shook her head. “Same basic meaning.”
“Why would being a homosexual give you a higher chance of heart attacks?”
“Personally, I believe it has a lot more to do with the sprigs of oleander that mysteriously go missing when there’s a new group locked up than anything to do with genetics.”
“They...” Dahlia’s face tried to work out the meaning behind Heather’s words, she blanched. “Oleander?”
“They grow it near the edge of camp.” Heather nodded. “Would make just about any execution look like a health problem, wouldn’t you think?”
Dahlia’s eyes widened. “They kill them?”
“Politically it’s a brilliant move,” Heather said. “The fewer men in the camps, the fewer who can revolt. They need most of the men because most of you turn twenty at some point. Low mortality rate. However, the ones they can’t use anyway...There’s more danger in keeping them than profit. Not to mention how much it saves on food and housing.”
“That’s awful.”
“That’s life at the camps. As a whole you might have maintained a tenuous hold on peace, but everything comes from some very ruthless, but brilliant politicking.”
Dahlia shook her head. “If people knew—”
“They’d ignore it,” Heather responded. “If there’s nothing else you all are good at, it’s dealing with willful ignorance.”
“That can’t be true,” Dahlia insisted, appalled.
“You all got to this point somehow, and it wasn’t by asking a bunch of questions.”
Releasing a breath, Dahlia rose. “Come look at the clothes. You can’t be happy in...that. It’s filthy if nothing else.”
“You want to dress me?” Heather crossed her arms.
“Yeah.” She smiled at her older sister. “It’ll be a complete flash back to my life-size doll I had when I was little to dress up.”
“You realize I’m not a doll.”
“Well, at this point I figured.”
Heather smiled. “I suppose. Lead the way.”
* * * *
“Should I assume you’re the one who gave her that?” Jack sat down next to Dahlia.
She looked up, following his line of sight to Heather. “Oh, yeah. I thought she’d like to get out of grey. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.”
“I think maroon suits her.”
“She looks hot.” Jack nodded. “It’s too bad she’s not into men.”
“She’s ‘married’ apparently,” Dahlia tried out the word.
Jack nodded again. “Both would work against me, I’m sure.”
Dahlia smiled. “You want to have sex with my sister?”
“Honestly, it’s been a good few months since I’ve seen any woman, so all of you look pretty good at this point.”
“That’s only because you haven’t had anyone to compare to us,” Dahlia said.
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
“It’s what you said.” She reclined half-way.
Jack smiled looking between Dahlia and Heather. “You’re sisters?”
“So Heather tells me.”
“I suppose there’s a resemblance there.”
“I think there would be more so if she grew her hair out.” Dahlia watched Heather join Des off to one side of the camp. “She’s actually quite pretty, don’t you think.”
“Well, I said the resemblance was there, didn’t I?”
Dahlia looked at him, shook her head with a bit of a smile. “Do you think we’ll be moving again soon?”
“You don’t like it here?”
“It’s a lovely camp,” she said, “but it’s been three days, and the longer we’re here, the longer I will have to live in a forest, and, just in case you haven’t realized, I’m not a big fan of the whole sleeping outside thing.”
“Oh, that reminds me.” Jack rose. “Follow me.”
“Where?”
“Nowhere far.” He grinned. “The guys just cleared out some of the storage tent, so if you wanted to be under cover, maybe away from the guys...”
“What?”
“Well, I haven’t been around women for a while, but I figured you’re probably used to things a little nicer than we have here, so I thought you might like it.”
He pulled the tent flap open to reveal a little room carved out in the middle of the rest of the supplies. The light from the fire was just bright enough to shine through the tent’s red walls leaving the light muted and shadowy inside.
She stepped inside. “You did this all for me?”
“We had the space.” He shrugged. “You fixed up Benny’s ankle. It was the least we could do.”
“Thank you.” She smiled, turning around to take in all of it . “You really didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to,” he responded. “Is there anything else you need? There a sleeping bag there, and we set out some water if you want to wash up...”
“Five star accommodations,” she said.
“You like it then?”
“I love it.”
“Good.” Jack brushed his hands off on his pants, looked around a final time, and then nodded. “Why don’t you get some sleep then. We’ll probably take off sometime tomorrow if you’re feeling up to it.”
She nodded. “Thank you, Jack. You have no idea how much it means to me that you did this.”
“I’m glad you like it,” he said. “It really wasn’t any trouble. Sleep well.”
“You too.” She smiled and moved to the sleeping bag.
* * * *
With addition of the new men and packs, the going was even slower than before, a phenomenon which worried Heather and annoyed Des and Ben, but Dahlia was more than happy with the slower pace. Her body adapted to it much better than it had to the forced power walks.
Ben moved forward to scout what was ahead of them, before dropping back into the group.
Dahlia sighed as he fell into step beside her. “Please, Ben. I’m too tired to deal with any sort of banter today.”
“Didn’t sleep well in your tent?”
“Ben...” She sent him a weary look. “I’m serious.”
“I’m just saying you must love all the special treatment.”
“Yes, yes, I do.” Dahlia looked away from him. “It’s nice that someone is willing to acknowledge that this is hard for me.”
“Oh, and it’s all rainbows and butterflies for the rest of us.”
“Ben, please. Go find someone else to vent at. I can’t take it right now.”
“You realize all of it is because he wants to sleep with you.”
Dahlia sighed, tired of his complaints. “What?”
“Jack,” Ben said. “He’s trying to warm you.”
Dahlia hummed. “The rest of the men too?”
“A good portion I’d say. The rest just don’t know how to deal with women in general. I think they’re operating purely out of fear.”
“Or maybe some people are able to maintain some sense of courteousness and compassion for their friends while also feeling overreaching concern for the rest of the human race,” she said, letting her eyes slid over to him. “Just a thought.”
Ben scoffed. “He isn’t your friend.”
Dahlia didn’t bother to argue.
“Seriously,” he said.
“Seriously, Ben, leave me alone.”
He looked at her for a moment before slipping to the front of the group again.
* * * *
Jack poked his head into the tent. “Am I interrupting?”
Dahlia looked up from taking her own blood pressure. “Oh, I was just taking some vital signs. I felt a little dizzy today. Didn’t even get up the energy to knock Ben down a peg or two.”
“He’s a little...” Jack appeared to be searching for the proper word. “Off, isn’t he?”
“Jackass-ish is what I’d say.” Dahlia smiled.
Jack nodded. “You aren’t feeling well?”
“Just dizzy and tired. I was wondering if my blood pressure was too low.”
“Are you all right?”
“I’ll be fine,” Dahlia reassured him. “Based on the symptoms, I would guess I’m a little anemic.”
“Anemic?”
“The iron level in my blood is low. It makes you tired...” She pulled her pants legs up. “You bruise easily.”
“Those are intense.” Jack looked at her shins. “What’d you hit?”
“I think I’m just thrashing in my sleep.” She shrugged.
“And you got those?”
She shrugged again.
“Do you need anything?”
“Just some water.” Dahlia shook her head. “I’m going to take an iron pill and then try to fall asleep. Hopefully, that’ll take care of it.”
“Are you sure it’s anem...”
“Anemia,” she repeated. “I can’t know. I’d have to take a blood test, which would be pretty hard in the middle of the forest.”
Jack nodded. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“Just water,” she said again. “Please let Heather know I’m not feeling well. She should know what anemia is.”
“Can do.”
* * * *
By the next morning, Dahlia was feverish. Heather opened the tent flap, frowning at the pallor of her skin other than the bright red cheeks. Heather knelt, laying a hand on her forehead. She turned to the flap.
“Someone get some water.”
Jude was the first of the group to arrive. “Is everything okay?”
“She’s got a fever.” Heather grabbed Dahlia’s bag and pulled out a thermometer. It beeped as it came to life. “A bad one from the feel of it.”
Heather placed the thermometer in Dahlia’s ear and waited for it to beep again. She pulled it out, looked at the reading, and hissed. “We need to bring it down before her brain bakes itself.”
“How?” Jude looked at Dahlia’s pale face.
“Ice, ideally. Water if nothing else.”
“Bad?” Abel stuck his head in the tent.
“Yeah.” Heather nodded. “Is someone getting water?”
“I’ll go.” Abel looked at Dahlia for a long moment before heading back out.
“What’s wrong?” Ben pushed his way through the group at the flap.
“I don’t know.” Heather shook her head, pulling all the blankets off Dahlia. “Take the tent down. We don’t want any heat trapped anywhere near her.”
“You don’t know what’s wrong?” He stepped forward to let the others pull the tent down.
“I had two years of basic medical training,” Heather snapped. “I’m hardly qualified as a diagnostician. All I can tell you is that a fever means there’s an infection. Viral, bacterial, fungal, there are several possibilities. All I can tell you is that there’s something in there that her body’s trying damn hard to fight off.”
“She wasn’t sick yesterday.” Ben’s eyebrows creased.
“It wasn’t...” Heather shook her head. “Sudden fever. It’s got to mean something, I just don’t know what.”
“Then, what can we do?”
“Nothing,” she said. “We can try to bring the fever down, but if it’s a virus, there’s nothing anyone can do. If it’s bacterial, well, she’s the one who could give us a dosage she’d need, or even what do use. I don’t know what half the things she has in that bag are.”
“Here.” Able set a bucket down.
Heather took a shirt lying nearby and dunked it into the water, wiping down Dahlia’s forehead.
“Is she going to be all right?” Abel hovered nearby.
“She’s young,” Heather said less than decisively. “I don’t know what she has, but she’s healthy. She should be able to...”
“We really can’t do anything?” Ben whispered.
“She’s the doctor.” Heather wrung the shirt out and dunked it again. “I’m not.”
No one spoke.
Jack moved around the other men. “Why is she unconscious?”
“Because she’s sick,” Ben spat.
“I got that,” Jack said.
Ben tensed, but didn’t respond. “She had an entire book of herbs. I can’t remember any of it.”
“You didn’t know you’d need it,” Jude said, kneeling next to Dahlia.
“I...” Ben released a breath. “Can we move her?”
“What?” Heather frowned.
Ben had already turned. “How far are we from town?”
“Five miles, maybe,” one of the men said.
“Five miles which way?”
“Ben, what are you thinking?” Heather looked at him.
“She needs a hospital,” he said.
“We can’t just stroll into town and drop her off.” Jack looked at him, incredulous.
“I’ll figure something out.”
“Ben.” Heather turned to face him. “It’s very noble what you’re trying to do, but getting both of you killed won’t help anything.”
Ben hesitated.
Dahlia’s eyes fluttered, but she didn’t seem able to open them.
“Give her to me,” he said.
“Ben...” Jude reached for his arm.
“Which way is town?” Ben bundled Dahlia in his arms.
* * * *
Ben shifted her weight, watching from the last line of trees at the edge of town. Women moved through the street, completely unaware of his presence. He had to find an area just quiet enough to let him drop her without being seen, but not so desolate that she wouldn’t be found for hours, maybe even days.
Another group of women passed, leaving no one in sight behind them. He slipped out of the trees just a little too far to be safe, and left her by the side of the road. He shifted her so she looked comfortable, then slid back into the trees to wait.
It didn’t take long for a woman to pass by. She stopped at Dahlia, knelt, stood, and ran toward the hospital. He watched to see what happened. There was only one woman who even so much as glanced at the forest. The rest of them didn’t seem to entertain the idea that the unconscious woman would have had to come from somewhere. They got a stretcher and moved her off.
Ben waited another moment, and then moved away, heading back to camp. They’d have to move out if anyone wondered where she came from.