After the Revolution, page 18
“Miss Sasha?” he called out as she headed to her seat at the dinner table. Sasha peeled off and approached him. Helen stood nearby, distant enough to make it clear this conversation was between her and the man, but close enough that her presence provided a warm kernel of certainty and support.
“Yes?” Sasha asked.
The man had a sharp, narrow jaw and a long nose. There were deep bags under his eyes and his hair was at the grayest end of pepper-gray. He wasn’t very large but he used his physicality well. He moved like he was used to controlling the room.
“Sasha, I’m Dr. Brandt. One of our medics was very impressed with your work earlier today on the injured girl.”
“Sir, all I did was try to stanch the bleeding. Anyone could have handled that. It didn’t require any special knowledge…”
“No,” he interrupted her, “it did not. The knowledge of how to stem bleeding is not rare or special. But the willingness to jump in during an emergency, and to get blood on one’s own hands, is rather rare. I understand you have some form of medical training?”
“Very little, sir. I took three semesters of pre-medical courses in high school. I was thinking about a medical career before I–”
“Yes, well, three semesters of any kind of training almost makes you a doctor here. We’re not exactly flooded with qualified medical experts.”
Dr. Brandt lacked Helen’s gift for interrupting without seeming rude. He was clearly a busy man. And the fact that he’d offered praise made it hard for Sasha to take offense.
“Miss Helen,” he snapped back at the older woman, “I’m putting this one on special duty. Would that be alright?”
“Of course, Dr. Brandt,” Helen said. She smiled at Sasha, and there was honest pride in that smile. More pride than she’d ever seen in her mother’s eyes. Sasha resisted the urge to tear up in response.
Dr. Brandt turned to Sasha next and asked, “What do you know about the People of the Road?”
She frowned. Post-humans were a popular topic of discussion in her high school. Sasha had seen Wasteland Warriors a couple years back and been as enthralled as everyone else. But her school curriculum didn’t talk much about them, and definitely downplayed their influence in the rest of the continent. Her father had called them, “A bunch of idiots dancing around the desert, doing drugs and robbing people.” She decided to use a variant of that for her answer.
“They’re drug-addled pagans, fornicating and spurning the Will of God.”
Dr. Brandt smiled. He had such a serious face and such stern features that Sasha was shocked by the honest kindness of that smile.
“I’d say that’s basically accurate,” he chuckled, “perhaps even a bit charitable. It turns out one of these groups sent some emissaries into Plano just before the city fell. They were on some trade mission. They wound up getting stuck in a pen with a few other prisoners. We didn’t even realize who we had until their people contacted us and demanded their release.”
Sasha’s eyes widened. All she could think of were the grainy video fragments from one section of Wasteland Warriors. It was supposedly a recording of an attack on an Aegis Biosystems convoy headed from Milwaukee to Denver. The convoy had been well-armed, but it had been taken apart in a matter of seconds. The assailants moved so fast that the documentarians had needed to slow the video to make them visible as anything but flashes on the screen. How could something that fast and that deadly be captured? Dr. Brandt answered her question before she could ask it.
“I’m going to guess you’re wondering how we managed to capture three of those Frankenstein abominations.”
“Yes sir,” Sasha said.
“Well,” Dr. Brandt popped the glasses off his face and buffed the lenses on his shirt while he spoke, “most members of any given group aren’t quite like that. Oh, they’re all pagans or atheists or some other kind of heathen. They have a lot of aesthetic modifications, LED tattoos and body lighting and some sensory upgrades. But few of them have military-style implants.”
“I see.”
“As you know, cities and civilized nations tend to ban those implants within their borders.” Dr. Brandt slid his glasses back into place on his nose. “So the People of the Road have to send their less-modified citizens out to negotiate, etcetera. Which means we’ve got a bit of a tiger-by-the-tail situation here.”
“What do you mean, sir?” Sasha asked.
“Well, the stories about these types are absolutely true. Some of them have hundreds of warriors packed to the gills with nightmare technology. There are individuals who are capable of taking on entire companies of human warfighters. The ‘tribe’ these particular captives hail from, well…their name is quite obscene. ‘The City of Wheels’ would be the most polite variant. They’re as lost as it gets when it comes to the word of God. But they’ve got about six-hundred post-human citizens.”
Sasha thought back to what a dozen of those things had done to that convoy. She tried to imagine the carnage six-hundred of them could unleash upon the Heavenly Kingdom. A shiver ran down her spine.
“Exactly,” Dr. Brandt nodded at her. “Like I said, we’ve got a tiger by the tail. They might not intervene while we have their people. So we’ve got to make sure our captives are well taken care of. That’s where you come in.”
“Me?”
“Two of the captives are women, Sasha. They’ll need to be inspected by someone besides me. We do have some qualified female nurses. But an SDF drone hit one of our troop transports about two hours ago, and I’m afraid they’re both in the thick of that mess. So you’re coming with me to handle this job.”
“I’m proud to do it, sir.” She wasn’t sure what else to say. And besides, it was true.
The first captive sat on a small concrete bench in the back of an eight-by-ten cell. Her hair had been shaved into a mohawk, but the purple hair was deflated and greasy now. There was stubble on the sides of her head. Her face was round, but lean. There were slight laugh lines at the corners of her cheeks and the edges of her eyes. She wore a sleeveless purple-and-black dress that was, by now, filthy. Her arms were covered in a strange series of tattoos: dozens of branching lines that each terminated in a box. They looked almost like circuit diagrams. Sasha quickly realized that each “box” held a little LED screen. Most of the screens were set to a dull red color, but once she stepped into the woman’s cell they flashed bright orange. The woman looked up and snarled at Dr. Brandt.
“The fuck do you want, shitbird?” She looked over to Sasha and then added, “Sorry, shitbirds.”
“Sasha,” Dr. Brandt sighed, kneading the bridge of his nose, “meet Marigold Fulton.”
“Jesus fucking Christ. What are you, six-fuckin’-teen?” Marigold said to Sasha. Then she looked to Dr. Brandt, “That’s fucked up, man.”
Dr. Brandt winced at both curses. Sasha glanced down and saw that his right hand was balled up into a fist and clenched tight.
“Marigold, this is Sasha,” he said through gritted lips. “She’ll be performing your intake exam. We need to make sure you’re uninjured, noninfectious, and not hiding any weaponry. I would recommend compliance.”
“Your kind always do,” the woman spat back.
“Sasha. You’ve got this.” Dr. Brandt gave her a curt nod, turned on his heels, and headed back out of the cell.
There was an armed guard just outside the cell. As Dr. Brandt had instructed, Sasha pulled a long privacy screen out from the far end of the wall and clasped it to a set of hooks on the other end. The captives were being held in the old Plano jail, which made this one of the rare buildings in the Heavenly Kingdom being used for its intended purpose. Sasha was grateful for the privacy screen. She was also unbearably nervous about what came next.
“I’m going to have to ask you–”
In one smooth motion, Marigold pulled the dress up over her shoulders and off of her body. She wore nothing underneath it. Her pert breasts, her little belly, her pubic mound and its shock of purple hair were suddenly just there.
“You gonna do your job, or are you just gonna stand there and jill off?” Marigold asked.
“I– what? Jill…?”
Marigold gave a harsh laugh.
“It’s synonym for masturbation. Lady masturbation. You don’t do that, do you, sugar? I’m gonna guess the Heavenly Kingdom frowns on girls having fun without the help of boys.”
Sasha grimaced. “The Heavenly Kingdom doesn’t frown on women having fun. But it does encourage self-control. Mastur– what you’re talking about, it’s a distraction. It’s worldly.”
Marigold whistled in mock-surprise and said, “Spoken like a lady who truly needs an orgasm.”
“What I need to do is draw some of your blood, and some of your saliva. And, erm…perform a cavity search.”
Marigold’s lips curled up into a catlike smile. She opened her legs. Sasha had seen other women’s vaginas before, but only in textbooks and movies. This was the first time she’d found herself staring directly down the barrel of one, so to speak. She gulped.
“Ah, darlin’, am I your first? Don’t be scared. I got some chrome in me, but I never wound up putting defensive teeth in there. Now, my friend Topaz…”
“Stop. I know what you’re trying to do. Just stop.”
Sasha hadn’t thought the woman’s smile could get any wider, but it did.
“And what am I trying to do, child?”
“You’re trying to…to fluster me. To distract me.”
“Oooooor,” Marigold rolled her eyes as she replied, “I’m bored. You fucks have kept me in one holding area or cell or another for almost a week. I spent three days shitting in the corner of a gym. But at least Rick and Tule were there too.”
The woman’s smile softened. For just a moment she looked troubled, vulnerable.
“You don’t have any idea where my people are, do you?”
Sasha shook her head. She felt guilty for some reason. That was stupid—she hadn’t done anything wrong. But she felt the need to assuage the other woman’s fears.
“I don’t. I’m sure they’re alright, though. We wouldn’t execute them just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Marigold snorted. “Maybe you wouldn’t, luv. Your friends, though? I’ve seen your gallows. It doesn’t seem like the kind of thing someone builds just for show.”
“We…have a right to enforce our laws. God’s laws.” What am I doing, defending the Kingdom to someone who’s clearly blind to the Word? Sasha shook her head. She opened the blood testing kit Dr. Brandt had given her and stepped toward Marigold.
“Look, I’ve got to do this. Just hold still and it’ll be quick.”
It was. The other woman offered no resistance. When Sasha told her to stand, she stood. When Sasha reached a gloved hand up inside her to search for foreign objects, Marigold said nothing. She didn’t even flinch. Instead, she kept her eyes locked on Sasha’s. The other woman barely blinked. In about two minutes, Sasha had finished her examination and collected her samples. She started to step back, but Marigold’s hand shot out whip-fast and grasped her around the wrist.
“Listen.”
Sasha stopped and listened. She wasn’t sure why. It was something about the other woman’s tone. She’d heard the term “command voice” before. Sasha hadn’t understood what the term meant until now. When Marigold spoke again it was in a hushed tone, barely more than a whisper.
“I don’t know what brought you here, but you’re obviously smart. You don’t have those dead zealot eyes,” she jerked her head in the direction of the guard outside. “When I mentioned the gallows you looked fucking ill. I’m going to guess you haven’t been here long. You’re probably having second thoughts. Help me get my people out of here. If we can get back to my city, you’ll be safe. We’ll take you wherever you need to go.”
“I…” Sasha wasn’t sure what to say. She should’ve slapped the other woman, or spit in her eye. But she didn’t.
“Don’t say anything. You’ll be back here. I promise. Think about what I’ve said. Think about where you are. Just fucking THINK.”
She let go. Sasha stepped back. The two women locked eyes for a long moment. And then Marigold grabbed her slip dress off the floor and slid it back down her thin frame. Sasha unclipped the privacy curtain and headed back out into the hallway.
The other woman captive, Tule, was tall and muscular. She had a wide face with cheekbones so sharp they were almost jagged. Her skin was a dusky brown. Her eyes were alert, and moved rapidly between Sasha, Dr. Brandt, and the guard who led them into the room.
“Her name is Tule,” Dr. Brandt said, “and she’s probably going to threaten you. Pay her no mind.” He turned away and left, while the guard stayed behind and kept a close eye on the tall woman.
Sasha was scared to approach Tule at first. The woman’s forearms were corded with muscles, and she had biceps that looked as broad as Sasha’s thighs. But the woman didn’t move an inch, or say a word, the entire time Sasha worked on her. Tule didn’t even blink. She complied to every one of Sasha’s requests without eye contact or any other form of acknowledgment. The woman seemed dead to the world.
Somehow, Tule’s quietness and seeming stupefaction were more uncomfortable than Marigold’s aggressive words. Sasha finished her work in short order. Once the last vial was sealed and her gloves removed, she took a final look at the captive.
“I hope you get to go back to your home soon.” Sasha immediately regretted the words. This woman is The Enemy. Why would you try to comfort her? She won’t even look at you.
Tule let out a dull laugh. She had been so silent earlier that it shocked Sasha. The other woman turned her head and stared at Sasha.
“I will return home soon. And fire and blood will come to this place, because you’ve held me here. You’re a dead woman walking. Enjoy the last beats of your heart.”
Sasha didn’t know what to say. What could you say to that? So she took her samples, and left.
Dr. Brandt dropped her off outside the House of Miriam and told her he’d send a jeep out tomorrow morning to take her to the hospital. Sasha thanked him and headed inside.
The other girls were already almost finished with dinner when Sasha sat down and joined the group. She gave a quiet smile to Susannah and nodded at the other girl’s bandaged hand. When dessert (a banana this time) was over, Miss Helen took Sasha aside while the other girls broke off to read their Bibles and drink their nightly tea.
“I have some news for you.”
“Yes, ma’am?” Sasha asked.
“Alexander has been rotated back from the front. And…” that strange look of mingled frustration and anger crossed Helen’s face again, “you’ll be able to see him tomorrow. After lunch.”
Sasha’s heart pounded, an excitement that made her feel guilty and elated at the same time.
“I’m afraid it won’t be a long visit,” Helen continued. “But you’ll have a bit of time with him.”
And then Helen sighed again, just a little. Sasha was sure she wasn’t supposed to have noticed it. Miss Helen’s eyes looked a bit watery. Sasha was so happy, so excited, that her brain glossed over this fact. Instead she gave Miss Helen a hug. It wasn’t nearly the first one they’d shared, but this was the first time the older woman had seemed hesitant in returning it. But she did, after a moment, and Sasha’s joy-drunk brain wrote over any sense of doubt she ought to have felt.
Sasha buzzed with uncontained energy the rest of the night. Sleep was near impossible. She tossed until the small hours of the morning, turning over her memories of chat conversations she’d had with Alexander. His face felt so clear and real in her memory that she could almost touch it. And tomorrow she’d be able to do just that.
Sasha finally passed out about two hours before Helen came around to wake them up. She should have been exhausted. Instead, she found herself out of bed, feet planted firmly on the ground, before her mind was even fully awake. Her subconscious was that eager to start the day.
She rinsed herself with extra care that morning. Mae seemed to notice the added effort she put into primping and called her out for it.
“You’re not working at the hospital to snag a doctor,” she sneered. “You know that, right?”
Sasha tried to ignore the comment. Susannah, whose hand was still bandaged from her injury the other day, spoke up in her defense.
“There’s nothing wrong with being extra clean, Mae. It’s probably important for the work she’s doing over there. Sasha’s dealing with wounds and stuff, she’s not scrubbing toilets like you.”
Sasha was gratified by how that made Mae’s face flush. She flashed Susannah a grateful smile and shuffled out of the washroom as quick as she could manage. She headed outside and took in her first deep gulp of the cool morning air. “Cool” might have been too strong a word to use. But the fresh air felt good on her skin.
It only took her a few seconds to spot the battered and dirt-specked jeep Dr. Brandt had sent to pick her up. A young man, maybe as young as her, with a weak chin and an acne-pocked face sat behind the wheel. Sasha waved to him, ran up, and hopped in.
It wasn’t a quick ride to the hospital. Large sections of the road were destroyed, blocked by rubble, or jammed with traffic from refugees entering the Heavenly Kingdom. Seeing that had gratified Sasha. More souls coming to God, she thought. For the most part, she lost herself in thoughts of Alexander until, forty minutes later, the jeep rolled to a creaky stop in front of the Medical City of Plano.
The enormous hospital complex looked badly damaged, and largely abandoned. Many of the windows had been shot out or shattered by large blasts. Several buildings had chunks of wall and roof that had fallen in. But there were lights on in many of the windows, and the hum of generators filled the air of the front courtyard. Dozens of people milled about, filled with purpose, running wires, and wheeling patients.
