She no longer flinches when his hand strokes her cheek, long fingers gentle but powerful, tracing her jaw line. She reaches deep and brings forth her best smile. Why should she shrink from him? He is the protector. They are powerful with him in charge. They are safe. She wills herself to forget the past, memory brings only weakness. Her parents, a blurred mental image. The others: white faces twisted with terror, howling amid the shriek of gunshots, white flames from the Molotov cocktails, the silver spikes of cascading glass. And Kimmy, dark blood pooling around her perforated body, surprise on her small face.
They know the price to be paid for a new world. Her past is gone. The future belongs to the Settlers. The right names are on the lists. When the time comes, the oppressors and their lackeys will be eliminated. The world will be put right. He will see to that.
The van rumbles along the rough backcountry road, lurching through potholes, swaying wildly, flinging bodies against the sides. Every five minutes, someone pitches over, the sound of bone slamming into metal reverberates. No one laughs.
He moves slowly on cushioned soles, from one to another in random order, whispering to each one, stroking a forearm, an earlobe a chin. Handing out round white mints. Keeping each girl calm, reminding them of the job they had done and the tasks that lie ahead of them. Special words and touches for those who had let down their guard. You did not want to be responsible for a setback. You did not want a special touch.
There is sweat in the air she breathes.
He reaches her at last, in the corner where she has pressed herself, trying for balance. Her heart near to exploding. He says, “But you will be careful.”
“Yes.”
“Now and forever.” These days he uses his soft voice. The voice that makes you focus totally, completely, absolutely, on him. To listen is to forget you are in a stolen van, driving without lights on dirt tracks leading to nowhere, anything to evade the state troopers. The soft voice reminds her why she is fighting, what she has lost and what she will gain. What she stands for. The voice binds her to him.
She is careful. Always.
His words, so light, she has to lean forward to hear. “Do you believe it?”
“Now and forever.”
“The future is ours.”
“The future is ours.”
“What do we believe?”
“Those who represent evil will die. Those who are deserving will live in harmony.”
“Who will make the difference?”
“The Settlers will make the difference.”
“Some of the others were not so careful. You see what happens when you let your guard down.”
“Yes.” Six girls are left. She wills herself to be strong, to have a full voice, the voice of the powerful. She pushes away thoughts of Kimmy, left alone in her lake of blood.
The smell of urine fills the van. Behind her, somewhere in the dark, one of the careless ones has wet her pants.
Please, let her be strong enough to survive.