The next couple of weeks brings with them a sense of normalcy and routine. I have learned to anticipate Springer’s moves, making my job more efficient. Despite my aversion to them, I have also become adept at using weapons. Springer took my frame and strength into account when he selected a gun for me to carry. It’s small and black, holding a clip with fifteen rounds. I now find myself spending the first hour after lunch dismantling, cleaning, assembling, loading, and firing at a target, all under the watchful eyes of my counterpart. While Springer assures me that knowing how to operate a gun is purely a precaution, I wonder if I could fire it.
I haven’t seen Bram since, and for that, I am grateful. I am not sure how to act around him, and, frankly, I feel resentment over my situation and place a certain amount of blame at his feet. Though I know that this is rather unjustified, there it is. I also know the next time I see him will be to hear about my first real assignment. Delaying that inevitability is my hope.
I miss Drake when I can’t escape my dorm to meet him at night. Since my encounter with Lina, and the warning from Rafe, I’ve been extra vigilant. This has meant a few occasions that left me stuck in bed, unable to risk sneaking out. I feel like I am being watched. For all I know, I am.
I finally catch a break after three unsuccessful attempts to meet. Lina falls asleep quickly, having been worn out from some field exercise she complained loudly about while preparing for bed. Her voice grates on my nerves these days. It’s become a sound that radiates up my spine when I hear it. I never used to feel that way.
As I dart down the halls, trying to look inconspicuous and probably failing miserably, I keep looking behind me, sure that I will see Lina’s stare following my progress. I let out a deep breath when I make it to our rendezvous and see Drake’s face light up when he spots me. He grabs my hand and pulls me into the tight quarters of the closet, shutting the door softly.
It feels safer once I am within the confines of this space. Drake gives me a quick hug, my heart thunders at the contact, and I peek up at him, sure that he must be able to hear it.
“I’ve missed you,” he whispers while tucking a stray clump of hair behind my ear. For a moment, I’m back on the hill, and it’s Bram’s fingers combing through the strands. I blink my eyes slowly to dispel the image.
“I missed you, too. Lina’s been on my ass, watching me like some stalker. If she hadn’t had a grueling day in the field, I don’t think I would’ve made it.”
“Well then, I’m glad she got her ass kicked with whatever shit they had her doing.” I can’t help grinning at the huge smile that follows his remark.
We sit down and just lean into each other for a few minutes, content to just be in the present.
Drake breaks the silence first. “So, I hear your Sweeper is Springer.”
“Yeah, you heard of him?”
“Not really. I just heard Rafe talking about him during recent training. Apparently, Springer has quite a reputation. He’s pretty well known in the unit. At least, that’s the impression I got listening to Rafe.”
I nod. It makes sense that he would have a name for himself. “I don’t know him too well yet, but he seems like a good guy. He sure knows his stuff.”
“You go out into the field yet?”
It makes me uneasy having Drake ask me this. I’ve always assumed that the fieldwork is pretty confidential. Thankfully, I don’t have anything to share, but I’m not sure I would even if I did. I think it would feel wrong. “Not yet. What’s going on with you? Is there talk of when you’ll get paired with a Sweeper?”
“Nothing yet.” This surprises me, as his skill was comparable to mine when we trained together. He gives a small shrug. “I guess I just don’t have your instincts.”
I remain silent, thinking about what I recall from our time together. I suppose there is truth in what he says, but I wonder if there is more to my rather fast promotion and his slower progress.
And then he says something startling. “Maybe the Commander pulled some strings or something to move you up so fast.” His brows crease in thought. “Although, why the hell would he do that?”
Drake sighs. “Don’t mind me. I don’t know what the hell I’m saying. It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m in no real rush to put these skills into action, and I honestly don’t know if I’ll be able to when the time comes anyway.”
“You will,” I whisper.
Thank God he can’t see my face. Could Bram be behind this? It is a disturbing thought, though one that may have some merit. I’ll need to ask Springer. But the next morning I don’t get a chance to.
As soon as I arrive at my unit, Springer announces that we need to pack up and be ready to leave in thirty minutes. We will be traveling by jeep to a location four hours away. I quickly get to work, setting aside all thoughts of Bram. Four hours away. I review what locations might be in that vicinity in my head, but until I get more details, it’s just guesswork.
Springer steps out for a few minutes and returns with food and water rations. I decide that it is a really good thing that he is in charge because it’s all I can do to get my meager supplies ready, much less think about the big picture of what we may need. After thirty minutes, we are heading to the quad where a jeep is waiting. Up to this point, I have still not heard any details about the assignment, which worries me. I have a feeling that he’s waiting until we are on the way before dropping the bomb.
The jeep pulls out of the compound, and we head east. It feels good to have the wind blowing in my face. It’s cleansing. I let the miles go by, content to just enjoy the freedom before asking for details. “So, where are we headed?”
“Brigford.”
“Brigford?” My voice sounds loud to my ears. I’ve only seen cities on the screen, and everything I’ve heard has made me so thankful to be in a small town. On the other hand, it’s a bit intimidating to visit a place that is often the site of riots and viral outbreaks.
“Yeah, Brigford.”
Brigford is a huge city, eclipsing Prineville. I feel pangs of anxiety as I imagine how challenging it will be to map it. No training exercise has had the myriad of complications that a large urban area possesses, and suddenly I realize that I am not ready for this.
Springer must have a sixth sense when it comes to me because he says, “Don’t worry, Enora, you’re not expected to map the whole city. We won’t be the only team.”
While I know this should ease my mind, it doesn’t. “You still haven’t given me any specifics. What’s the assignment? Surveillance?” It’s a foolish idea, but I can’t help saying it in the hope that it’ll become a reality by voicing the idea.
I want him to say yes, but deep down, I know he won’t. In the end, it’s the hesitation that tells me all I need to know. Reality is always so much uglier than what I imagine.
“No, we will not be setting up surveillance.” Springer pauses. “There is a faction of rebellion that has been growing in the city. The information we have indicates they are planning an attack within the city though we do not know when and where. Intelligence data has identified three meeting places the group has used recently. We have been assigned to one of the locations.”
“What’s going to happen if they are in our location?”
Springer turns to me, his eyes cold with the knowledge of what is inevitable. “They will be eliminated.”
I can’t do this. I feel panic building inside me. This is different than Clearcreek. At least there, I found out after and didn’t have to see anything in real-time. I clench my hand on the armrest and try to pull myself together. Come on, Enora. Think about the greater good. You don’t know what these people are planning. You and Springer could save hundreds of civilians. I eventually talk myself down, but the uncertainty lingers.
“Springer?”
“Yeah?”
“I…I don’t know if I can do this. You know, when the time comes.” I look at his profile to gauge his reaction.
“You can and you will.”
I shake my head in denial. “What if I can’t? I mean, why are they being targeted? Is there something awful being planned that could hurt innocent people?”
“You know I’m not always provided that information. We’ve talked about this, Enora.”
“I know, it’s just…it feels wrong, you know?”
He glances at me before returning his eyes to the road. “I get it. Believe me, I understand. But this is the job we have to do.”
He’s so matter-of-fact that a bubble of resentment floats to the surface of my thoughts. “That’s so callous! These are people too. Shouldn’t they have a say?”
“How do you know they didn’t? What if there is intelligence data that indicates a massive attack? What if they are going to target a school or public square to make some kind of statement?”
He has a point. Springer told me we’re the good guys in all of this, and I need to believe that. I sigh, accepting his implication of some rationale for our assignment, and look out the window at the barren landscape. “You know, sometimes I wish I could just run away from this, all of it. The cracked earth and hard living. Just go somewhere, a place they wouldn’t be able to find me.”
“And what about me?” Springer asks quietly. “What do you think they would do to me if you ran?”
He knows I’m not serious about running, but the point is made, and I’m ashamed not to have considered it. I hadn’t given a thought to Springer. Horrible images chase through my head of torture and execution. I feel that noose around my neck tightening. It’s all so perfectly orchestrated. They made me care about him, and now he’s a weapon to use against me.
It is such a claustrophobic feeling to know that even if I felt desperate enough, I could do nothing. I couldn’t bear the weight of the guilt that I would feel should Springer be punished because of me.
I lean my head against the seat and watch the landscape pass by. The scenery rarely changes, and, aside from a few vultures, I see few signs of life. This is the bleak reality that I need to face. Beyond the fence of every community is nothing: no water, no food, no chance of survival. The Company knows this, depends on it. I suppose that there are some who live beyond the borders. God knows not everyone was rounded up as the Company swept through, but where those people live and how they live is beyond my imagination.
As we continue along the bumpy road, I see broken-down bits of the past dotting the landscape. Old houses and stores, just shells now, overgrown with weeds and decay. The sky is a brilliant blue, its beauty almost eclipsing the barren ugliness of the earth. There are only a few cars we pass on the road. Our training center is on the small side, and the other teams joining us in Brigford are coming from another location. For the most part, we are alone. I have never felt so alone, as though I could just disappear in a wisp of smoke and no one would know.
Two hours into the drive, we pull over to stretch our legs. Rolling brown hills are peppered with scraggly trees and bushes. The road we are traveling on has seen better days. We must be taking a back route to the city, because I know that main roads are well maintained by the DMC. The internal battle is still raging inside my head over what I will be a part of once we reach the city. But like before, I don’t see a way out.
Standing in the dirt and looking at the hillside, I begin to realize that I have never been so free. Never before have I been so far out the range of the Company’s eyes. It is like a balm on the open wounds that I feel. I take a deep breath, imagining that the air tastes different, that it tastes of freedom. I can feel Springer watching me.
I turn to him. “Do you feel it?”
“Feel what?”
I open my arms to the burning sky. “Freedom.”
He cocks his head as though needing elaboration. And I continue, “No one is watching us. I mean, we could just drive off, and no one would know. We could be free.”
Springer saunters toward me until he is less than a foot away. I can feel his breath on my face as I look up into his eyes. He lifts his arm, curling his hand behind my neck, then leans into my ear.
“But they do know.”
His fingers stroke the small lump on the inside of my wrist. “We’re never free, Enora,” his voice whispers. For a second, I forgot about that, my tracer.
How deceiving it is, this wide-open space I see around me. I simply can’t see the bars of my cage, but they are there, invisible yet just as confining and, with their hidden nature, more menacing. Springer walks a few paces away, leaving me to come to terms with this new reality. I look up into the sky and see a black shape soaring in the distance. The wingspan is huge as it circles hundreds of feet above the earth. It can only be a vulture, but even that often-despised scavenger looks beautiful in my eyes. What I wouldn’t give to be free like that bird.
I shift my attention back to the dry, hard ground and crouch in the shade of the jeep. My hands hang limply, dangling above my feet as I rest my arms on my knees. My tracking device, how could I have forgotten that insidious device?
“Do you think they’re watching us now?” My voice is soft, belying my anger.
“Yes.” Springer crouches next to me and chucks a small pebble. “I would imagine our tracers were activated when we left the compound and that they’ve been tracking us since.”
I squint my eyes in the glare of the sun. We sit in silence for a few minutes before facing the inevitable and climbing back into the jeep. Another hour into the drive, we begin to see signs that we are coming closer to the city.
In the distance, I see the outline of what I assume is a stockyard. The multiple buildings are long, with white roofs and barred openings along the sides. I catch a faint smell on the breeze that I have never encountered before. It is an earthy scent with a sour undertone that makes me wrinkle my nose in distaste. I can only wonder what animals create such a smell and am thankful when the breeze from my open window shifts, taking the stink away. Along the perimeter of the buildings, I can see the heavily guarded fence. Looking at the guard towers, I wonder who may have been desperate enough to attempt to breach this tight security and if so, how long they lasted before they were taken down.
A few more miles up the road, I see another cluster of buildings, but these have distinct features that are indicative of a large greenhouse with surrounding fields of crops. I gaze at the rows and rows of plants in the fields and wonder what type of food is being grown. I have no concrete knowledge of what food-producing plants look like unless you count Safa’s seedlings, and I suddenly feel so ignorant. Shouldn’t I know these things? I shake my head in frustration.
Then my eyes widen as I see what looks like a band of colors just above the rows of plants. It fades briefly and then I see it again. It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I can see it glisten in the light of the sun, displaying a brilliant array of colors. Springer must have noted my attention because he slows the jeep to a crawl so that I can gaze upon this new wonder a bit longer.
“It’s a rainbow.”
I continue looking at this phenomenon and roll the word around in my head, trying to place it into a context that I am familiar with. I vaguely recall having heard of a rainbow, but until now, what I was told and what I am looking at are two entirely different things. Light refraction comes to mind, but I am hard-pressed to compare that dry term to what I am seeing.
Springer interrupts my thoughts by stopping the jeep. “Do you see how the colors fade and then return?” I bob my head as I keep staring. “There are jets of water spraying over the fields of plants. The rainbow is created when the water and the rays of the sun are at just the right angle.”
Water. This is the missing component for me. How can there be rainbows when the rain is so infrequent and sprays of water in the sunlight unheard of? I watch the rainbows appear and fade and wonder how many water rations each plant is getting. From what I can see, the plants get far more water than the people of Prineville. It seems like an injustice.