Chapters 4-7

CHAPTER 4 

Without daylight, I had no idea how long I’d slept. My first attempt at waking had failed miserably and I’d fought the nausea and headache by pulling the pillow back down over my head and returning to the safety of sleep. My second attempt was met with silent prayers that a sub-med would bring something to take away the pain and the third was a horrible combination of the two. I found a little more success on the fourth attempt, however, and was able to drag myself to the shower where the heat of the water helped to ease my pounding head. I stood under the near scalding water for as long as I could stand, taking comfort in the substitution of one pain for another. Once I’d cleaned myself up and brushed the layer of wine film off my teeth I began to feel a little more human.  

I grabbed the clothes I’d left in a pile on the floor and was met with an instant assault of smoke a booze. My stomach churned instantly and I set them back down, praying that there would be an extra set of clothes in one of the drawers.  Lucky for me, there was one more change of clothes. A black knit sweater and some fitted jeans hid in the back corner of the drawer along with a change of socks and underwear. I dressed myself with the slow hesitations that hangovers provide and then picked up last night’s clothes. I used the shampoo and soap to wash out the layer of stench that has permeated the fabric and then hung the clothing in the shower to drip dry. Lyle hadn’t been lying when he said that Nova’s wine hurt.  

I wasn’t yet ready to venture out in to the world and had decided to resign myself to curling up in a ball in a corner of my quarters when there was a knock at my door. The pounding echoed the pounding in my head and I winced slightly as I tentatively made my way towards the offending sound. I cautiously opened the door a crack, worried that Lyle might be standing there. As I hadn’t yet determined whether I should be grateful or embarrassed by the kiss-denial, I wasn’t yet certain that I wanted to face him. When I peered around the frame, however, it was Desi standing there, hands on her hips and a serious smirk on her face. 

“Hello, sunshine! And, how are we today?” I wanted to punch her but that would have been too much effort so instead, I groaned in defiance and started to close the door. Desi, however, was wise to my game and bounded in, taking glee in my suffering. “Holy crap, woman! You look like shit.”  I considered finding a smart ass response but instead, I flipped her off and worked my way back to my bed where I curled up in the fetal position before mumbling a pathetic “I hate you.” Desi just laughed, called me a princess and wandered to the kitchen.  Moments later the distinct smell of coffee filled the air.  

I made my way zombie-style towards the intoxicating smell. I wasn’t sure where the coffee had come from, maybe it was standardly stocked in new arrivals’ kitchens to avoid anyone going on a caffeine withdrawal instigated rampage or maybe Desi brought it. I hadn’t noticed anything in her hand but wasn’t exactly paying close attention. The mug reached my hands and the warm liquid hit my lips before I even had time to think. “Where’d you get coffee?” I asked the second I had swallowed the first mug.  Desi smiled and opened my cabinet to reveal a small set of basic supplies. “Oh. I didn’t even open those.”  Desi laughed.  

“If you’d done that, you might not have eaten half a cow yesterday. I mean, really. That was some skill. Did you even taste the burger?” 

“Shut up.” 

“Did any of that burger stay where it was supposed to?” 

“Shut up.” 

Desi continued to chuckle. “How was the wine?” 

“Shut up.” 

“And the guy?” 

“Shut up.” 

“Got anything more intelligent to say?” 

I didn’t. “Shut up.” 

Desi’s laughter filled my kitchen as she poured herself a cup of coffee. I hadn’t been sure that I was up for company but now that she was there, I was glad for it. Some good natured ribbing was exactly what I needed. It made life seem a little normal.  

“You should goas pale as I’d ever seen myself. I looked like hell. She was right. I’d better clean myself up. 

Twenty-five minutes, one hot shower, a painful hair brushing and a face-scrubbing to end all face scrubbings later, I was borderline human. I re-tied my hair in to the top-knot that had been my signature “I’m too lazy to really put in any effort” look most days and wandered back in to the kitchen. My face was red from the scrubbing. Desi took one look at me, opened her purse, removed a small bag from it and tossed it my way.  I took the makeup bag, headed back to the bathroom and used the products inside to help dull the redness of my face. Desi’s taste in makeup was a little different than mine but at least our foundation colors were about the same. I was able to find some eyeliner and lip gloss that were more my taste and when I emerged from the bathroom, I felt a little more like myself.  

“Ready?” Desi asked.  

“Yeah.”  I handed her back the makeup bag. “I should get some of my own.” 

Desi nodded. “Yeah, can’t have you using mine all the time. Let’s go.” She practically shoved me towards the door. I laughed and stumbled, grabbed the door and whipped it open. Another playful push from Desi landed me square in to someone’s chest. I blinked and looked up. 

Damn. “Lyle.”  Double damn. “Um. Hi. What are you doing here?” 

Lyle looked almost as embarrassed as I felt. I could smell his cologne from where my head had bounced off of him. He smelled good but I was still not sure I wanted to see him. He looked uncomfortable. “I, uh, I just wanted to check and see how you were feeling.” 

“I’m fine. We’re just on our way out. Desi was going to take me to the employment center.” 

“Oh, ok. Well, I just wanted to check.” The two of us stared awkwardly at each other for a moment or two before Desi broke the tension. 

“So, why don’t you come with us?” Before I could protest, Lyle had agreed, Desi had shut the door and we were halfway down the street. Desi had a knack for talking to people and she chatted with Lyle as we walked. Actually, I should say that Desi had a knack for talking at people and she happily chatted away while Lyle was able to express the occasional grunt of agreement or questioning. She was a few steps ahead of me so I could watch her with amusement and she worked her way from one topic to the other without giving Lyle the chance to get a word in. Her excited gestures punctuated every story and she used them with flair.  We worked out way past the swing set and around the corner to a section of the town I hadn’t yet been to.  

“What’s that doing here?” My stomach flip flopped at the mural on the side of the building in front of me. Deep in the Underground, I thought we were safe from the Sovereign and yet, there was his face two stories high in front of me. The sight of him caused my heart rate to sky rocket and I could feel myself starting to sweat. The sense of panic was starting to rise in my chest.  

The Sovereign was not an attractive man and in any other circumstances his appearance would have been quite comical.  His face was round and carried a rosacea tone to it and the round head was firmly planted on an equally round body. Suit jackets never fit him quite right and they always seemed to be pulling in the middle. Anytime you saw images of him, whether on the video programming announcements or in photographs, his jacket button seemed to be pulled so tight it was ready to pop at any moment. His hair was salt and pepper and cut in the most unfortunate of styles. It seemed as though someone had popped a salad bowl on his head and just started cutting. He resembled a cartoon but was far too domineering to be amusing in any way.  As ridiculous as he looked, I was not interested in staring at the mural of the man who had condemned me to isolation. 

“It’s a reminder,” answered Desi “that we’re never far from the watchful eye of the king of the world.” She spit in disgust and beside her Lyle was silent but his eyes had darkened and he looked at the ground, shuffling his feet. “Let’s go. There’s no point in staring at this thing.”  

We moved past the mural and a few minutes later, Desi stopped in front of a home. “This is my place. Give me a minute.” She left Lyle and I standing there. We hadn’t spoken throughout the entire walk and now there was no avoiding each other. We stared. Lyle opened his mouth to say something and then quickly shut it.  There is something about silence in those moments that breeds honesty and with nothing left to hide behind, Lyle simply said “I’m sorry.” His eyes darkened with an unknown sadness and he repeated again, but more quietly “Sorry.”  I wanted to be angry with him and every ounce of my being wanted to be bound by the embarrassment of the previous evening’s adventures but the discomfort in his gaze begged for forgiveness for an undefined crime. I chewed on my cheek for a moment, determined to maintain my humiliation filled rage but found myself succumbing to the sadness in his voice.  

“It’s fine.” I sighed. “Really. It’s ok. It wouldn’t be a drunken night without a little regret.” I took a step towards him and reached my hand towards his arm. Before I could make the comforting contact that I may have needed more than him, Desi came bounding towards us. “Let’s go!!!” She sing-songed in her distinctly “Desi” way and down the road she went. Lyle gestured for me to go ahead and I obeyed, shaking my head slightly as Desi’s skill at interrupting a moment.  

 

CHAPTER 5 

We rounded the corner and approached what I assumed was the employment office. No sign labelled the front and there was no means of identifying it as anything special. Its grey facade was anything but inviting and I wondered for a moment if Desi had brought me to the wrong place. The employment center looked nothing like I had anticipated but, really, what did I expect? A skyscraper?  

Desi  pushed through the door and called out “Hey, Ned! New recruit here!!” I was amazed at how Desi just seemed to know everyone. I imagined that it was a combination of the small world of the Underground and her incredible ability to talk.  

I surveyed the employment office while we waited for Ned’s appearance. It was cluttered and dusty and had the vague smell of an attic. The place was overrun with bookshelves and they lined not only the walls but had made their way in to the middle of the room. It could easily have been a library, except for the face that the shelves weren’t lined with books so much as boxes, files, folders and piles of paper. It was a somewhat organized hoarding situation. 

Ned shuffled himself out from behind a bookcase in the corner. He couldn’t have been any older than thirty but moved with the same level of grace as an eighty- year old. He was a slight man with short black hair and round glasses that seemed to be far too large for his face. He continually pushed the oversized rims up his nose as he made his way towards the counter. “Hello, Desi.” She beamed at him and pointed at me.  

“Newbie!” 

Ned eyed me over for a while, tilting his head from side to side while he examined me. He carefully made his way around me in a slow, painful dance while he made whatever decisions he seemed to be mulling over. “What did you do before?” 

“Teacher.” 

Ned wrinkled his nose for a moment and I wondered if it was thought or disapproval. “We don’t need many of those right now. Few kids. No real school.” He snorted as he tried to move his glasses back up his face without using his hands, which were now moving in small sharp gestures in front of him. He clenched and unclenched his hands, splayed his fingers. He looked somewhat like a puppet master controlling invisible marionettes.  “Sanitation could use some help.” I paled slightly at the idea. “But perhaps you’d be better off in the communications office. They need someone who can proofread the circulars before they go out.” He shuffled back to the bookshelf, and dug through the files and folders piled up on one of the shelves. A bright red folder appeared in his hands and he waved it in the air beckoning me to come to him. “Everything is here. Look it over and report in first thing tomorrow. I will notify them to expect you.” As he spoke the glasses slipped off his nose and somehow caught on his chin. He made a little snort of frustration before carefully adjusting the glasses back to their proper resting place.  

“Oooh! The circulars!” Desi seemed markedly more excited than I was. Clearly, there was some piece of information that I was missing. 

Lyle had been so quiet that I’d forgotten he was even there and his voice startled me. “Ned must think you’re fairly trustworthy. Those jobs are not handed out often.” I nodded in agreement, even though I had no way of knowing whether or not this was true.  

The circulars, I was to learn, were the Underground’s way of sharing information. Much like a newspaper, they contained various articles informing people of the goings on in the underground community. This seemed a little pointless to me because everyone pretty much knew what everyone else was doing anyway but I supposed that it helped create the sense of community that was keeping everyone’s sanity intact.  Hidden amongst the gossip columns and the daily updates on underground businesses, however, were small but valuable pieces of information about the above ground world. The circulars kept people up to date on the status of their home cities, the resistance above and the progress it was, or wasn’t, making.  The Sovereign’s most recent laws, targets and attacks were also documented. I wondered for a moment how this information made it to us, given that we were, in theory, isolated from the rest of the world, but my job wasn’t to question. It was to proofread.  

Being in the dark office where the circulars were produced provided some reprieve. I could escape in to my dream world where I basked in the sun and breathed in the fresh air. In my memories, I was innocent and child like, running through fields and climbing trees. Such silly thoughts to get lost in and yet, in the musty office, a perfect dream to break up the haze of reality. The day-to-day life of the Underground had become a ritual: wake up, work, meet Desi or Lyle, go home, go to sleep. Wash, rinse, repeat.  

Lyle remained as much of an enigma as ever and I never knew which version I  would see at Nova’s. Some evenings were spend leaning across the table, shutting out the rest of the world, while his fingers gently found their way through mine, testing each small grip and still other evenings, he would build his wall, one icy brick at a time leaving me cold and confused on the other side. Above ground, I would have walked away from someone playing such a game but here in the Underground, where the friendship pool was shallower, I tolerated his Jekyll and Hyde behavior with growing weariness.  

Desi was another story all together. Her boundless energy was both an entertainment and an annoyance. I wasn’t as happy to accept my place in the Underground as she appeared to be. She was happy to spend her days collecting new arrivals and integrating them in to our society and every introduction required indulgence in wine.  As much as I enjoyed my days with Desi, there were only so many hours I could spend at Nova’s listening to stories from each new arrival. In the time I’d been there, there had seemed to be an almost daily addition to our community. I wondered how many people would be left above ground if so many were being sent below. My work proofreading provided the unfortunate answer to the question. The Sovereign had begun to move beyond exile to public executions and it seemed as though anyone could be the victim. The circulars provided accounts of old and young alike being lined up in town squares and terminated in front of horrified crowds. One particularly chilling account held that the Sovereign had set up a caged pen in the center of a burning city and had trapped 12 people in the fenced area: 5 men, 4 women, two teenagers and a child had climbed the chained link, hung from the sides and shook with all their might, begging for freedom while the Sovereign’s soldiers shot at them like fish in a barrel.  None survived. My stomach did an unpleasant dance as I checked the article in its entirety to ensure it was print worthy.  

In the flickering lights of the office, I put my head down and mourned for the dead. My heart broke for the families of those being humiliated before death. I couldn’t think of a much worse ending, except for maybe this. Maybe the Underground was worse.  I allowed myself to expand my tears to include the version of myself that I no longer remembered. I was no longer fiery and strong. I was a cog in the machine of the Underground, doing my part and losing myself each day. I could no longer speak up against the Sovereign’s policies, could no longer resist by inspiring youth to raise their voices, I no longer had a place in the fight. I no longer existed.  

A quiet knock on the door interrupted my self-pity and I looked up to see Lyle silhouetted in the entryway.  Another day, another time, I would have been glad to take part in the flirtation tug-of-war but today, I felt weak.  I had no desire for the game and no energy left to get burned by the rope.  I ran my hands through my hair to brush it away from my face and let my head rest in my palms while I debated what to say a his arrival. Lyle didn’t wait for my greeting and with a few steps was at my side.   

He asked no questions but I saw his eyes flicker towards the circular’s draft sitting, marked with my red pen. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close to him and I let my head rest against his chest while my tears matched the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat. He said nothing and allowed me to cry unapologetically while he stroked my hair and kissed the top of my head. After a few minutes, my tears slowed and I looked up at Lyle, intending to say something intelligent but found myself silenced by his sea blue eyes, also wet with tears and mirroring my heartbreak. I was drawn to his unknown pain and it mingled with mine in that moment.  Lyle tilted his head towards mine and our lips met in a joining of sorrow, comfort and desire.  

I pulled away for a moment and traced the scars on his hands and when I looked back to him, his eyes flickered for a moment with an unknown secret before his mouth returned to mine. I clasped on to him, desperate to escape the horrors burned in to my mind, I pulled him as close to me as possible and allowed myself to move my hands under his shirt and up his back. His skin was warm and the contact fired sparks of electricity through me.  My vision blurred as he tugged at my clothing and moments later, our bodies joined in a pulsing, gasping avoidance of the real world.  

Resting on his chest afterwards, I noticed the scars on his hands matched ones on his abdomen and I traced them gently with one finger. “From my exile.” He said. His voice caught me off guard and it was then that I realized how long it had been since anyone had spoken. “When I was banished to the underground, it came at a price.” His words were laboured and heavy. “The Sovereign wanted me on his medical team. His second in command needed surgery to remove a burst appendix. I refused. I didn’t want to help him.” His breath caught. “I had no idea the extent he would go to in order to make me do it. I knew he was evil but I thought it was policies and laws that would break us, I didn’t think…” He trailed off, looking for the strength to finish. “He brought me to the medical bay in his base where his commander was already sedated but he wasn’t the only one in the room. My wife, my daughter, they were there, too. Tied. Restrained. Bleeding.” His tears flowed anew as he described the events of that day. When he had refused to work on the Commander, the Sovereign had his wife and daughter brought to the base. Without him knowing, every time Lyle refused to work on the Commander’s appendix, the Sovereign ordered his wife and daughter cut. By the time he was brought in to the surgical bay, the refusals had resulted in serious injuries to his family.  He went to work on the Commander in order to save them but he was too late. The Commander died that day and so did his wife and daughter. Lyle’s own body was mutilated, cut where the appendix was located and he was thrown down to the Underground to die. A young sub med had found him just in time to save his life.  

Suddenly, Lyle’s fire and ice approach made sense. How could he risk loving again? He carried the burden of their deaths like weights tied to his legs. He would drown in the river if he attempted to embrace the possibility love. How could I ever assume that he’d wade in the water again given the likely hood of not reaching the other side. And yet, here we were, laying in the afterglow of the desperate encounter. I allowed myself to wonder, for a moment, whether he would regret this coupling. Whether guilt would reign and he’d be wrapped in feelings  of betrayal before rebuilding the ice wall that sometimes appeared. I didn’t have much time to linger in these thoughts because they were interrupted by Desi barging her way in to the office.  

“Erynne! There’s a new guy and you have got to hear what he has to say! He actually saw the Sovereign…” She stopped dead in her tracks. “Lock the door, people!! Lock the door!” She teased at the sight of us on the floor, frantically trying to cover ourselves from her view. “I’ll just turn around here and let you two, you know, whatever.” She turned her back to us and allowed us to slip back into our clothes. Lyle looked somewhat mortified by our untimely discovery and I tried to catch his eye for some kind of reassurance. I wasn’t sure if it was for him or me but he avoided my eyes. I supposed I had my answer about whether or not the ice would return. Desi’s presence, however, afforded me a distraction and I looked to her to finish her story.  

Desi told us all about Mike, the new arrival, who came with some interesting information. He had been a part of the Sovereign’s inner circle and was sent to the Underground after he refused to harm a young child. He brought news of an increasing terror as people were being rounded up and transported out of city centers in to districts just outside the borders. The Sovereign no longer cared about ethnicity or race, he cared only about maintaining his power. He passed it off as maintaining safe distances from the burning cities, a policy designed to protect rather than harm but his intentions were clear: keep people where he could control them.  “We should meet Mike.” Lyle spoke softly, as though this new information was wrapped in the cloth of old memories. Desi nodded and led the way out of the circular office and towards the street.  

Mike was being kept in the same room that had temporarily housed me upon my arrival and I winced slightly at the memory of being tied to the bed.  Mike, however,  appeared not to be a runner and sat, hunched over, his back to us on the bed. He looked like a broken man as he heaved his breath in sighs and hung his head. When he turned to look at us, his eyes seemed hollow and haunted by memories. Lyle paled instantly and grabbed my wrist as Mike turned to face us.  

“You!” He hissed at the broken figure before us.  

 

CHAPTER 6 

It took all of my strength to stop Lyle as he lunged towards the man on the bed. His eyes blazed with a hatred I couldn’t imagine and there were enough tears to extinguish the flames. “I will KILL YOU!” Lyle screamed as I pushed him back and towards the door.  I reached my hand to his face to draw his attention back to me and the moment I turned his face to mine, the fight went out of him and he collapsed, weakened from the emotion. “It’s him.” He whispered. “He killed them.” Desi looked confused, Mike’s defeat carried a hint of fear and recognition, and I was slowly connecting the dots.  

“I thought you said that he refused to hurt a child?” I asked Desi, who was currently looking completely overwhelmed by the situation. Lyle was curled up in a ball, head on his knees, shaking. Mike had backed himself up to the head of the bed and was doing much the same. I had protectively stepped myself in front of Lyle and Desi stood, shocked and frozen. She was stroking her long, purple braid and suddenly looked much younger than her 35 years. “What the hell is going on?” 

I walked towards Lyle, crouched down beside him and he gave a small nod of permission. I wrapped my arms around him and cradled him as I filled Desi in on the history of the situation. Lyle’s panic subsided as I talked and he looked up at Mike, who remained the shadow of a man against the headboard of the bed. Desi looked sick as I wrapped up the story and looked back and forth from Mike to Lyle, uncertain of what she was supposed to do next. 

It was Mike who broke the standoff and spoke to Lyle. “That day changed me.” His voice barely carried to the end of the bed and I could feel the tension building in Lyle’s shoulders as he spoke. “I never forgave myself. I swore I’d never do it again, that I’d never hurt…” He choked back tears and as much as I was hard pressed to believe his declaration, his emotion seemed honest. “I’d rather die than hurt another child.” His voice was barely a whisper. 

“Maybe you should.” Lyle was staring directly at Mike who simply nodded his head before lowering it again. At seeing the defeat in the man’s face, Lyle relaxed slightly. He couldn’t seem to bring himself to attack the helpless, and in this moment, curled up on a pillow, Mike certainly appeared helpless. I had a hard time associating this man with someone who had killed Lyle’s wife and daughter.  

“I did what he says. I killed them.” Mike had emerged from his curled up state and was looking straight at Lyle. “I did it. He’s not wrong. The Sovereign offered me a place in the world and I followed him without thinking. I had a place with him, a home, respect. I thought he knew everything.” Mike spoke in choppy sentences as though he were trying to organize his thoughts as they came out of his mouth. “I had nothing. He gave me a place. When he brought your family, he told me that you were a war criminal and that they had helped you to round up his followers.” 

“She was 8.”  

“I was brainwashed. I believed him. He convinced me that you were killing his supporters. I didn’t know. I thought…” He trailed off. “I should have known. I knew after that it was wrong. I knew that no child could harm anyone, that they didn’t deserve it. That you didn’t. But it was too late.” Mike had spent the next year trying to undo what he had done, working secretly to help free prisoners and to try to sneak information to rebels before he’d been faced with the task, once again, of killing a child. This time he refused and the Sovereign had him banished. “I couldn’t do it again.” 

The silence in the room was deafening and hung heavy as we all stared at each other, looking for the right thing to say. Lyle finally just stood up and walked out of the room. I looked at Desi and the two of us followed him without saying a word. 

CHAPTER 7 

We all have to sit with our mistakes and we can’t escape the depth of their scars. As I walked away from the medical center, I wondered how far down the rabbit hole you had to go before your whole existence becomes entirely unrecognizable. How far down in to a twisted wonderland did Mike’s experiences go and how did he keep going with the burdens of his choices? Judging by the weakened man I had seen, he wasn’t living so easily with the choices but how much of his behavior was real? I found myself wondering if he was capable of killing a child, could he just put on an act when it suited him – could he make himself appear weaker than he was? The claim that he was following orders seemed so thin but then again, some of the worst atrocities in history happened because of “following orders.”  

I walked out to the street to look for Lyle and found him sitting on the swing set, arms looped around the chains, head hanging low. I stood for a moment, debating whether or not to approach him but before I made the choice, Desi appeared on the swing beside him.  She sat there silently, the haunting silence filling the space between them as the swings swayed gently.  I felt an undeniable draw to Lyle. I wanted to take him in my arms and convince him that his world wasn’t decaying in front of him but I was frozen by the image of Desi swinging wordlessly beside him. My feet wouldn’t move, even a step felt like a struggle as the iron weight of intrusion bared down. I don’t belong here. The voice in my head that had been silent for so long, crept in with a hissing whisper. I don’t belong here. I’m in the way. Get out. Get out.  The pressure in my chest built as I watched with morbid fascination as the woman who was my was my best friend in this new reality somehow gently swept my lover towards her in a moment of comfort. Helpless, I stood as he moved from the swing to his knees and rested his head on her knees and wept. She stroked his head tenderly and whispered quietly to him and I continued to stand frozen.  Time moved backwards as I searched, grasped, for some sense of what I was supposed to do. You don’t belong here. Get out. Go. And I did the logical thing. I left. 

Time passes slowly in moments of despair and for Lyle time seemed to be moving in reverse. I watched him from a distance as he wrestled with the memories that flooded him. Each day seemed to move him a little further from me and whatever fragments of relationship that had existed were crumbling one little piece at a time.  For Lyle the wound was as fresh as the day his wife died and the stages of grief began all over. The handsome doctor became a scruffy, unkempt version of himself. And, I was equally as lost in the fragmented piles of friendship and relationship. 

Lost without both Lyle and Desi, I busied myself with the circulars, continuing to look for information from the outside world and when I wasn’t worried, I visited Mike at the hospital. I pushed aside my feelings of betrayal each visit, justifying my choice by telling myself that he would have valuable information.  Mike,  it turned out was not the monster I wanted him to be. He was incredibly intelligent and could carry on conversations for hours about the works of Shakespeare and Sartre. He told me once that he fully believed that Sartre was right and his current situation was proof. He was living his own existential crisis and coming to accept the idea that, perhaps, hell really was other people.  

Where I wanted to find someone heartless and cruel, I was faced with a man filled with regret. While his argument about following orders still rang as weak, I could see that this was not someone who would commit these atrocities of his own volition. He asked frequently of Lyle and with each visit, I could tell him less, nor did I want to. The knowledge that the man who had killed his family was so close by burned him from the inside out.  Any time spent with Lyle was becoming less enjoyable and more frightening and haunted by the memories of the chemistry between him and Desi.  

My heart ached for Lyle and I longed to find a way to comfort him but each time I tried I was met with resistance and yet, simultaneously, I was pulled by the need to give Mike the absolution that would never come. I couldn’t undo the crimes he’d committed and I couldn’t provide and comfort to either of them. I wandered through my days in a haze of confusion and helplessness.  clean yourself up and then I will take you to the employment center. I’m sure we can find something useful for you to do around here.”  When I pointed out that I had, in fact, already showered her response was a smirk and “Maybe you should try again.” I glared at her slightly but a trip to the bathroom quickly revealed my need for a second shower.  My makeup was smeared down my face, the top-knot I’d tied my hair in had started to fall out and I had pieces of hair everywhere and I was  

Chapters 2 & 3

CHAPTER 2

My head bobbed against my chest as the two men on either side dragged me down the hallway towards the elevator. My feet scraped along the concrete and my shoulders screamed in pain as the men dug their fingers in my flesh.  My eyes tried to focus but the world moved as a haze around me. It felt like a dream. Maybe it was a dream.  Maybe it was a nightmare – the kind where when you wake up you can’t decide if your subconscious joined the real world temporarily.

I almost had myself convinced that I would wake up in my own bed when we reached the elevator. Wires hung from the ceiling and the sturdy doors has been replaced with flimsy chain link. The men pulled my limp body in to the lift and then let go. My body fell to the ground in a heap. I stayed collapsed on the floor as the men lowered the elevator.  We seemed to descend forever. The air grew stale and cold and had a distinct but unidentifiable odor that the men commented on with more and more disdain with each passing moment. Suddenly, the gates opened and the two men tossed me out on to the ground, closed the door and were up the shaft before I’d registered what happened.  Weakened by whatever they injected me with, I stayed in my heap, unable to move under my own strength.

“We’ve got a new one”

Ow, my head.  I wished whoever was talking would stop. I felt like elephants were dancing on my skull.  The one voice was joined by a few others, all muttering and mumbling in their undecipherable song. Please stop talking. The voices hurt my head. I was sure that in any other circumstances their words would make perfect sense but the agonizing pain was blocking any sort of understanding.  Without warning the pain turned to nausea and the wave washed over me with the force of a 10 foot swell. I rolled over and vomited. The force increase the agony and I yelled from the pain.

“Ah, gross. A barfer”

“Let’s get her to medical”

“I don’t want to touch her. She totally just barfed everywhere.”

“Listen, you barfed everywhere, too. Suck it up and grab a leg.”

Rag doll me was carried away from the pile of sick. I could smell myself as the shadows hauled me to the medical team like a pig ready to be roasted. Somewhere in the back of my mind I realized just how little dignity I would have after this. And then it only got worse.

The medical team stripped me naked. Still drugged from whatever was injected in to me, I had no ability to respond. I could hear what they were saying but it barely registered. Had I been more conscious, I would have cried, perhaps, or at least put up a fight. I thought asking them to cover me but words wouldn’t come. It was a horrifying moment when the haze lifted for a moment and I realized that I was strapped to a table without a shred of cloth to cover my body. I could feel the warm breath of someone on my neck as they examined the injection site, determined that it was clean and then moved on to the next spot. Every inch of me was combed over, checking for infection, for injury and in some places, for God knows what.  It was the single most invasive examination I’d ever had and yet, in my state and through the drugged goggles, I wasn’t entirely certain that it had actually happened. I figured that it was better this way. Had I been conscious, this examination would have left one feeling violated. The voices continued to mumble and then suddenly reached some sort of agreement. A moment later, I felt the pressure and discomfort as a new liquid danced its way into my veins.

And then all was dark.

When the light returned, I was surprised to find myself dressed again. Someone had taken the time to put pajamas on me. I marveled for a moment at the quality of them. I would have expected something thrown together, ratty or even used but these appeared to be new. And high quality. The soft fabric felt cool on my skin and yet still offered a sense of comfort. I thought for a moment that I might just close my eyes and lay in the amazing sensations of this fabric before realizing how ridiculous that sounded. But still, it was oh, so tempting.  I broke from my fabulous daydreams of spas and luxurious pamperings  when I went to throw the covers off of me and realized that I was strapped to the bed. I could feel the panic start to rise in my body when a voice popped out of nowhere

“You’re a runner.”

No. “What?” I fucking hate running. 

The voice answered again. “You’re a runner. We had to restrain you because you kept trying to get out of bed and take off.”  Did that happen? I had no idea. “It’s for your safety. The serum makes a lot of people a little wonky. We didn’t want you to get hurt.” Yeah, great. Thanks.

“Ok. Well, can you untie me now?” Daggers of ice shot with each of my words.

“I’ll have to ask the supervisor. I’m just a sub-med.”

The young man disappeared. He couldn’t have been more than 16. Since the Sovereign’s rein most medical professionals were captured and taken to the capital city where they were instructed to treat only the “worthy.” Being a “sub-med” meant that you were being trained on the side by someone who didn’t want to get caught. It was risky to even acknowledge it. He must have been pretty certain we were somewhere safe. I looked around the room. It wasn’t as bare as I had expected. Shelves lined the walls and what must have once been reasonable artwork hung in various spaces except that now it looked old, dingy and like something you might find in the basement of your grandmother’s house. I was laying on a hospital bed but the room felt less like a hospital and more like a dusty library.

“Miss Andrews?” The last time I’d heard my name, my whole world had been taken away. This voice was less threatening though. It felt more cautious in its question, like I was able to answer without fear.

“Erynne.” It had been a long time since I’d used my first name. I felt strangely calm but yet still hesitated to look and see to whom I was addressing.

“Erynne.” The voice was gentle and comforting. “I’m going to undo those straps.” It felt like the right time to open my eyes and see who was talking to me. The man that stood before me was not what I expected to see. I’d assumed that the supervisor would be someone considerably older and wiser than me but when I looked up I saw someone my own age looking down. His dark hair fell over his face and covered his eyes slightly. I noticed the scars on his hands as he brushed it away.

“You’re not going to try to run again, right?” He asked as he made his way towards the bed, ready to undo the first of the restraints holding me.

“That would be pretty tough to do considering I don’t know where I am.” I managed to sound cool while he undid the straps. In reality, I was mesmerized by his eyes. A striking blue, they reminded me somewhat of the turquoise seas I’d seen on vacation. He gently undid each restraint and I sat up, rubbing my wrists and ankles. It was such a cliché move and much like what I’d seen in the movies but, yet, seemed totally necessary. “Can I ask where I am, or is that not allowed?”

He smiled. It was a slightly crooked grin that reminded me of an old movie star. He was incredibly handsome but I did my best not to notice. “You’re in the underground.” Vague. I rolled my eyes and hoped he didn’t notice. Thanks. Helpful. My thoughts were not helpful but at least this time I’d managed to keep them to myself.

“Yeah. They told me I was being sent here.” I found myself sounding more irritated than I’d intended.  After all,  it wasn’t his fault that I was here. It was my own.  The medical supervisor ignored my attitude and went to work checking the notes left on the table beside me. He chewed his lip as he examined the  papers. He was spending a long time on each page. “Is there something interesting in there?”

“Not really.”

That was not the answer I was expecting. “You’ve been staring at them for a long time.”

He smirked slightly. “It makes me look like I’m smart.” I watched him for a moment, not being quite certain of what to say and was grateful when he started talking again. “New arrivals generally want a lot more information than I can give them.  Really, there’s not much to say. If I look at the file for while before saying something like ‘I’ve examined your results and you seemed to have recovered completely from the drug they gave you and you should have no lasting effects,’ then people tend to be a little more satisfied.”

“So, you have no idea what you’re doing.” I raised an eyebrow and waited for a response that would make me less likely to jump off the bed and strangle him with my bare hands. What kind of person fakes medical training and actually assesses and treats patients?

“I didn’t say that. I know exactly what I’m doing but if I don’t spend enough time looking at the chart…well, you can imagine the frustration when I don’t have the answers they want.” He answered my question before I could even ask it. “What I don’t know is exactly what drug you were injected with. The Sovereign has a team of hundreds of medical professionals who are constantly working on new formulas all the time. Sometimes it’s simple sedatives, sometimes Quaaludes, sometimes something else. By the time I’ve figured out what they’re using I’m three concoctions behind. No one seems to have any lasting effects and the injections seemed designed to knock you out long enough to drop you down here.”

“And then what?” I wondered out loud. Perhaps the drugs weren’t entirely out of my system because it took me a moment to realize that I’d actually spoken the words.

“And then what, what?”

“They dump us down here and then what?” No response.  “They just dump us down here and WHAT?” I found myself almost yelling at the man who’d treated me and suddenly I realized that I was attacking someone whose name I didn’t even know. Suddenly, I felt awkward and embarrassed. I stammered and tried to undo some of my rudeness. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be yelling at you. I don’t even know your name. This is just a lot to take in. I don’t understand much of this.”

He smiled slightly. “It’s Lyle. And don’t worry. New arrivals generally yell.” He took a breath. “I’m not sure any of us understand things entirely, either.  The Sovereign couldn’t deport everyone so he started putting people underground. I think he thought we’d die off.  Maybe he thinks we have. Either way, out of sight, out of mind.” Lyle explained that the Sovereign was so busy trying to protect his power from anyone who spoke against him that he rarely learned anything about them. He unknowingly sent doctors, educators, cooks, farmers, electricians and pretty much every skill set necessary to form a vibrant and strong society down to the underground. The only people not sent down for dissent were the famous and the wealthy because they could generally buy themselves out of their charges.  I watched him talk and gesture and heard some of the things he said but I didn’t really absorb most of it. All I could think was I can’t do it. I can’t live underground. As if he could sense what I was thinking, Lyle pointed out that it wasn’t really as awful as most people thought and that they were a fairly well functioning society. There really wasn’t much they were missing. Except sunlight. I thought to myself. I loved the sun and couldn’t imagine living without it.

 

CHAPTER 3

Lyle suggested that moving around might help get rid of the rest of the grogginess brought on by the drug so up and out of bed I got. His medical training kicked in and he reached for my elbow as I stood up but I shook off his assistance, determined to do things myself. Sometimes, I wondered whether or not my stubbornness would be my downfall and other times, I was pretty convinced that it would be. I followed him out of the room and in to the space I’d only really known by rumor and through mysterious urban legends.

The Underground was nothing like the stories portrayed. In the legends, the Underground was dirty and filled with some sort of human-animal hybrids that snarled instead of talked and whose claws could disembowel you with one swift motion. The living spaces were cob webbed filled and people described them much as they would haunted houses on Halloween. What lay before me, however, had little in common with the fairy tales and legends being passed around in the Above. I had to keep myself from making a noise of audible shock as I looked around my new home. While the dimly lit space was what one would expect from a subterranean society, the rest of the conditions were greatly exaggerated. Through the flickering lights I could see distinct living quarters, each with a metal fashioned door. No windows, as they would be pointless, but they had porch like areas decorated to reflect the personality of the dweller within.  Hand made chairs, porch swings and planter boxes filled with green adorned the porches and patios.

“How can they…?”

“Hydroponics. We’ve got some great technicians that can set it all up if you’d like.”

If I’d like. The reality of the new world I faced was slowly beginning to kick in. Would I like hydroponically grown plants in the makeshift planter box of the new cube I lived in. All I could do was nod as we continued to move through the space. Each area was set to mimic an above ground city. There were areas with restaurants and street vendors that appeared to be much like the food trucks that used to line the streets before the burnings and a large library with salvaged books, many of whom still had char marks on the pages. I fingered a few pages and rubbed the ash in to my palm before we moved towards the next space. The society really was, as Lyle had expressed, quite complete. Everything from medical bays to entertainment facilities existed here.

He happily and proudly explained how as people were brought down to the Underground, the settlers drew on their knowledge, skills and creativity to develop everything from farmlands that produced vegetables for all to technological industries. The Sovereign was sending down such a wide variety of people that the community was able to produce almost everything. Animal products were the only things they struggled to produce but they were able to arrange to bring in meat and dairy products through the kindness of sympathizers who felt that banishing people below ground was inhumane.

I wondered about his willingness to show me around. It seemed beyond his role as a medic but here he was, escorting me through the surprisingly vast space of the Underground, gently resting his hand on my back when he needed to direct me down a new street or around a different corner. His kindness impressed me as he showed me each area and explained in detail who lived there.

And then it caught my eye. A swing set. Not just a swing set, but a whole playground complete with slides and monkey bars and teetertotters. It had never occurred to me that there could be children here. The sight was haunting. There was no breeze and yet the swing swayed slightly and the empty teetertotter had a vibration that made it seem as though it were ready to tilt at any moment. Squared off by low barriers, one expected that the area would be surrounded by trees and filled with the sounds of birds and the dancing of butterflies but it lay silent. No children currently filled its boundaries but evidence of their presence remained. A lost sock lay beside the sandbox and what could only be the stuffing of someone’s teddy  bear friend rested quietly under a slide. I stood for a moment, frozen by its presence.

“There are some who have been down here a long time. It’s only logical that there would be new generations and we needed to accommodate those requirements.” Lyle broke my daze.

I looked at him. “That’s very clinical of you.”

He shrugged an moved on. He suddenly became very distant and withdrawn. His hand dropped away from my back. “Are you interested in seeing your quarters?” I couldn’t think of anything to say to him at that point so I resorted to nodding but not before I picked up the lost teddy bear. I was in need of comfort as much as any child was.  As he headed off in another direction I tried to figure him out a little. He’d been so friendly when I’d first woken up but the playground seemed to change him. His blue eyes greyed slightly as we approached it and he was so cold in his statement as we stood there. I wondered about the effect it had and why he was so, well, doctor-like in his response. Before I had time to consider it further Lyle turned a corner and opened a door. His hands lifted and he presented my new living space to me with an unintended flourish.

“This is it. There’s no lock because, well, we don’t really have much for crime” This seemed impressive to me considering the Underground was supposedly entirely made up entirely of criminals. I wondered if most of the residents of the Underground were like me and just didn’t know when to shut up. People who were shunned for resisting and refusing to pledge honor to the Sovereign. “Make yourself comfortable. If you want to personalize it, I’m sure there are technicians and designers who can help. You’ll have to barter for price.” He looked at me for a second. He seemed so different from the man who had been in the medical bay with me just a few hours earlier.  He was colder. His eyes had lost the hint of laughter that hid behind them and the kindness seemed to have frozen over. “I’m sure you can find something to negotiate with.” His eyes scanned me as he said it and my rage flared in ways I didn’t actually know were possible. Was he really proposing I use my body to barter with? “I have to be back in the medical bay. I’m sure you will find your way around.” He turned and closed the door behind him before I had the chance to respond.

And there it was. I was alone with my comeback at the tip of my tongue and no one to fire it at. Wow, what a jerk. I allowed myself a brief moment to think about all the nasty things I would have said back to Lyle had he not disappeared so quickly and to wonder what had brought on such a drastic change.  Then, I took the time to scan my quarters. They were bare but livable. It felt like a bachelor apartment.  There was a bedroom/living room and a bathroom.  The dresser and furniture were run down, dented and beat up but they were useable, especially considering that I had nothing to put in or on them, except for the teddy bear that I’d picked up. I placed him carefully on the corner of the couch and decided that I’d name him “Freddy.”

The kitchen, such as it was, was minimal. There was only a hot plate for cooking and a toaster oven that seemed to be out of the 1970s but at least I could cook if I could ever find a way to barter for food. I wandered towards the bathroom space and observed how tiny it was. I probably could have peed and washed my hands simultaneously but at least there was a small shower. I assumed that I smelled pretty bad at this point so I turned the water on and hoped to God there was hot water.  I was pleasantly surprised when I had to add cold water to make it a bearable temperature and scrubbed every part of me until my skin was almost raw. The images of the invasive examinations washed away from me temporarily as I remembered how good the pelting rain of a shower feels.

I got out of the shower and stared at myself in the mirror above the sink.  The face that looked back at me wasn’t mine. The evidence of the last few days showed in the bags under my eyes and the hollowness of my cheekbones. I ran my fingers over my collarbones and realized that they now protruded from my chest. I had never been thin in the scrawny sense and yet here I was looking as though I was starved and tired. I wondered how long I had been in captivity before my so-called trial.  My hands ran down from my collar bones to my breasts and then my stomach as I tried to find something familiar. My blond hair hung just past my shoulders. It had always been fine and tired looking but today, even while wet from the shower, seemed extra pathetic. My blue eyes didn’t seem to have the same sparkle and were more grey than blue under the sterile lights. I think I might have been attractive at one point but staring in the mirror, I couldn’t remember what that felt like. I stood for a while longer, observing the lines in my face and the dullness of my skin before deciding that I couldn’t stand to see my own reflection any longer.

My own clothes were nowhere to be found and I didn’t want to go exploring in the hospital scrubs Lyle had given me so I took a guess that maybe there were some clothes in the dresser.  The first drawer was a fruitless exploration but I got lucky on the second guess and I was able to find something to put on. It wasn’t exactly fashionable but at least it was clean.  The grey pants were a little too big and they showed their wear but the blue sweater fit fairly well. It was a little ratty with a couple of holes but it was comfortable. I had always been a fan of sleeves that I could pull over my hands and these were just long enough that they touched my fingertips without any stretching. I combed my hair with my finger tips and looked around for something to use to keep it out of my face.  The small, travel sized toiletry kit that I found in the medicine cabinet was held together with an elastic so I used that to tie my hair in a messy bun on the top of my head.  I examined the contents of the travel kit and found a toothbrush and enough toothpaste to last a few days, along with a razor and extra soap. There was a set of shampoo and conditioner that I wished I had found while I was in the shower. I set it aside and grabbed the toothbrush to scrape off the film that had formed over my teeth.  I took one last glance in the mirror and smiled a little to myself. I still looked like hell, but in some ways, I didn’t look a whole lot different than I would if it were a fall day at the lake.

A wave of sadness rushed over me as I realized that I probably would never again get to enjoy the peaceful moments beside the water that I had loved so much. The small lake I’d spent time on was my own little paradise. It had just enough population to keep you from feeling isolated but not enough that you ever felt crowded. Neighbors would come by for coffee on the dock sometimes but many mornings were filled with me sitting, coffee in hand, wrapped in a blanket watching the mist slowly evaporate off the lake as the sun worked its way in to the sky.  Lazy days of relaxation filled the summers and I’d alternate between reading for hours and jumping in the water to cool off from the heat of the sun. I could climb through the bushes and the trees on the side of the road and hike in until I found a cliff to sit on while herons floated through the sky. I had once nodded off on a rocky shoreline only to find myself awoken by the gentle nose of a deer as it sniffed my head, trying to identify whether the creature laying at its feet was friend or foe.  The scent of my skin had warranted further investigation and a soft tongue took one big long slurp over my cheek before she made her decision, snorted a slight disapproval, and bounded off back in to the bush.  It was hard to believe that these were now only memories and I’d never again bathe in that perfect water or watch the sun dive behind the thick tree line.

I could feel the pressure in my chest as I fought off the impending tears. I could get lost in these daydreams and memories but I needed to move forward. This was my reality now and I quickly reminded myself that if I lingered too long in remembrances of the past, the depression of my future could crush me.  I took a few slow breaths to help calm the storm of tears threatening to overcome me and then decided that it would be best to explore the Underground further. I needed to get to know my community on my own terms if I was going to survive here.

I stood for a moment, hesitating and debating with myself over whether or not I would get lost exploring my new home before finally taking a step out of my quarters. I turned and headed back towards the center of the Underground. Wandering through the town, if you could call it that, was both fascinating and eerie. People had clearly come to terms with their new realities and the hustle and bustle was reminiscent of downtown in any small city. People shuffled back and forth between stores and homes, carrying packages or books. Some walked casually in pairs or groups and seemed to be chatting happily amongst themselves. I was amazed at how normal it all seemed. I was nauseated by existing here and everyone else seemed oblivious to the fact that they were living in captivity.

I ventured further in and continually scanned the area, trying to take it all in. When I found myself back at the playground it seemed like a good idea to rest for a bit. I sat down on one of the swings and closed my eyes, I pushed back slightly, lifted my feet and allowed the gentle rocking of the swing to comfort me for a moment.  If I just stayed here with my eyes closed, I could imagine the breeze on my face and the sounds of birds dancing through the sky, singing on their journey. If I just stayed here, with my eyes closed, I could hear dogs barking and rain falling. If I just stayed here for a moment longer, I could…

My eyes flew open at the inevitable memory of the bombs falling and the skies burning. The Sovereign had ignited a civil war and my utopian memories were flawed. Those small joys had ceased being reality a year or so before with the signing of the “Ancestral Disjuncture” – a command from the Sovereign that dictated that certain groups were to be isolated before being “exported” to a neighboring country. People resented being treated like a commodity and started to rise up against the command. A few, quick bomb drops from the Sovereign’s helicopters took care of floods of protestors and those trying to escape at various borders and shut down much of the actions against the command as people became too afraid to fight back. From that point on, each time an order was signed, it was punctuated with an explosion somewhere as a reminder that the Sovereign has ultimate control and could ensure that these orders would stand no matter what we did.  This was where my big mouth got me in trouble. I refused to stay silent and teach only the prescribed curriculum in which the Sovereign was a deity and his commands holy. I much preferred my students to think freely and examine ideas for themselves but it’s hard to maintain a dictatorship while freethinkers exist and I was arrested as an Enemy of the Sovereign. And here I was.

I rocked back and forth on the swing while observing the area of the Underground more carefully. Considering that there were limited materials available, the Underground population really had created an impressive society. The townsite reminded me vaguely of the French Quarter in New Orleans. The stacking of the cubicles and the structures used to support them did a fairly reasonable job of replicating unique balconies and iron supports of the area but without the sky behind the buildings this makeshift architecture felt a bit like something you’d walk in to if a museum had tried to recreate the beauty of the Big Easy in a display case. I continued to swing while I wondered if New Orleans was still standing or whether the structures built in the 1700s, that had survived hurricanes and mass flooding, had crumbled under the Sovereign’s rule. I hoped not. I had visited the French Quarter several times and had always loved its unique charm. It would be shame if centuries of beauty lay were reduced to piles of rubble. The ghosts of NOLA would be left to wander the streets instead of teasing guests in hotels and old homes.

A voice behind me interrupted visions of wandering spirits, drifting sadly over the remnants of their old haunting grounds while desperately seeking a place to rest.

“You’re new.”

I turned to find a woman standing behind me. I hadn’t heard her coming up but that wasn’t entirely surprising given that I’d been prone to daydreams and wandering minds. She was attractive, petite and delicate but with eyes of fire. She had dark hair, tinted with streaks of deep purple that was braided in small rows on the side of her head before being twisted back in a knot.  She wore knee high black boots, fitted pants, a loose grey tank top and a ratted long sweater that was falling slightly off one shoulder.

“Yeah. I’m new” I started at her for minute, waiting to see if she was going to state anything else that was incredibly obvious. Perhaps she’d like to note the color of my shirt. When she said nothing, it occurred to me that the polite thing to do would be to introduce myself. Somehow, over the last few hours, I’d forgotten my manners.  “Sorry. I’m Erynne.” I tried to fix my rudeness by extending my hand. She waited just long enough to reciprocate that I wondered if she was going to rebuff my attempt to reinstate a natural courtesy.  A small smile crept across her face.

“I heard you’re a barfer.” She took my hand, shook it and then laughed. “And a runner. You already managed to get a reputation around here. Sounds like you fought harder than anyone has in years. You know, after you threw up on everyone.” I was beginning to wish she hadn’t come along. The last thing I wanted was a reputation that preceded me, especially for something like that.  Her smile widened even further. “Don’t worry, I kicked a guy in the nuts when I was in medical. Imagine the reputation that got me. I’m Desdemona.” I raised an eyebrow in curiosity.  “What can I say? My mom loved Shakespeare. It’s just too bad she didn’t go with a nicer choice, you know, like ‘Juliet’ or ‘Olivia’. Or perhaps with someone who met a better fate.” She rolled her eyes. “But no, Mom went with the character strangled by her husband. Really sets someone up for success, you know?”

“Did many Shakespearean women have better fates?”  I asked, thinking of the tragedies that befell the majority of the author’s characters.

“Helena and Hermia did in Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

“Yeah, but do you really wanted to be named ‘Hermia’?”

“Probably not. Anyway, just call me Desi.  It’s a little easier to manage.”

Desi plopped herself on to the next swing and proceeded to give me her whole life story. I was amazed at how quickly she could talk. Within the next few minutes I knew that she was about the same age as me, never married, no kids, two sisters and that her parents had both been killed in one of the bombings. It was almost dizzying trying to keep track of the family history and all the details of her many jobs but when she got to the part where she was arrested, I perked up a little.  Much like me, Desi was in the Underground because she refused to stay quiet about her disagreement with the Sovereign’s tactics. She, however, was arrested mid-protest at the city center.  The Sovereign had tried to force anyone unemployed to work in factories that built bombs and weapons and Desi had no interest in being a part of it.

“They shot the people on either side of me but I was lucky. I just got arrested.” She announced causally. It had never occurred to me that being here was “lucky” but I supposed when the alternative was death, it probably didn’t seem so bad. Before either one of us could say anything else, my stomach growled loudly.  I looked up, somewhat embarrassed by the intrusion of my digestive system but Desi just raised an eyebrow.

“I have an idea” She flipped a piece of stray purple hair behind her shoulder.  “Let’s go to Nova’s!” I was about to point out that I had no idea what Nova’s was and that I certainly didn’t have any way to pay for anything but Desi grabbed my hand and dragged me off the swing so quickly that I lost my balance and drove my knee hard in to the ground below.

Nova’s was a dingy bar not far from the park where we had been sitting.  Desi bounced through the metal door with me in tow.  My entrance was a less-than-graceful combination of being dragged, stumbling from my sore knee and resistance because I didn’t know how to explain to Desi that I have nothing to barter with. As we burst through the door we were met with shouts of welcome and celebration of Desi’s arrival. She was clearly well known here.

“Desi, darling, I’ve got a spot for you over here.” A greasy looking man in leather beckoned her to the corner of the bar.

“No, sweetheart, come this way.” Another voice popped up from the back of the room. Even though smoking had long been outlawed on the surface, that particular law didn’t seem to apply in the Underground. The room was thick with smoke and I had a hard time determining where the voices came from. Dim, flickering lighting added to the inability to see anything much beyond a few feet in front me. Music blared loudly in the space and it was punctuated by loud laughter and the occasional slamming of a beer on the table.

“Sorry, boys! Me and my new friend are sitting over here!” Desi dragged me up to the counter on the side of the room and practically tossed me on a stool. I lost my balance slightly and had to catch myself on the edge of the bar. “Anything you want is on me. Nova and I go way back. I saved her ass once so I don’t pay for anything here.” She didn’t elaborate beyond that and I didn’t ask. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. Nova came over and the two of them exchanged some sort of secret handshake. It took every ounce of self-control that I had not to either roll my eyes or laugh but by some miracle, the response stayed stifled. “Nova! This is my girl, Erynne. She’s new. Whatever she wants is on me!! Food, drinks, anything!” Desi’s personality was so big it overpowered the loudness of the bar. “What do you want?”

I hesitated for a minute. I didn’t even know what my options were and this place didn’t exactly scream “menu.”  I looked at Nova “I’m not sure what you’ve got. I usually drink merlot.”  Desi practically squealed.

“You will love her wine! It’s fantastic. Best I’ve ever had. We’ll have two big ones, Nova. And, the biggest burger and fries you can manage.” I figured this was probably not the best time to mention that I had recently switched to vegetarianism. My stomach was growling so loudly that I’m sure it was audible over the music. Not to mention that I didn’t even know if sticking to my dietary choices was viable down here, plus, at this point, none of my reasons seemed terribly relevant any more.

Nova appeared with two of the biggest glasses of wine I’d ever seen.  I was pretty sure there was close to a full bottle in each.  I would have taken the time to swirl and sniff but Nova was staring at me so intensely that I figured it was best just to take a sip. The liquid that touched my lips was like nothing I’d ever tasted. It had a beautiful, rich flavor of cherry and chocolate. I’d never been one to be able to analyze the flavor pallet of a glass of wine but here I could distinctly identify each flavor: cherry, chocolate, the tartness of blackberries and gentle oakiness that lingered just long enough. I took a bigger gulp of approval and could instantly feel the tickle in my stomach as the wine hit. I imagined that this wasn’t exactly regulated for alcohol content but suddenly, I didn’t care.  I took another big swig and then another, allowing the warmth of the wine to over take me. I hadn’t eaten and the wine’s effect was quickly felt. I looked up to say something to Desi but she had bounded off to talk to one of her many suitors.  I took another chug of the wine and before I knew it, I was asking Nova for a refill. I felt less steady on the barstool than I had before but the wine-haze was stopping me from caring about the fact that I was now a subterranean creature. Like a fucking mole. I thought bitterly as I stuck my nose back in the glass.  Somebody bumped me as I leaned on the counter, contemplating my fate and I whipped around, ready to give whoever it was a piece of my mind.

“Lyle!” His name was out of my mouth before I even realized it, courtesy of the wine-filter. Oh shit. I tipped back on the barstool and he caught me before I went right over.

“You’re drunk.” He pointed out the obvious with a bit of a smirk.

“You’re weird.” Did I just say that?

“What?”

“You got weird. We were talking, you were showing me around and then that was it.  You got weird!” I knew I should stop talking but it just wasn’t going to happen. “I mean, what’s up with that?” I rambled. “Showing a girl around and then you just ditch her.  No explanation. Nothing. Just ‘bye.'” Maybe this wasn’t entirely true. At the moment, I wasn’t exactly sure of much.  Lyle looked at me for a moment before shaking his head a little.

“Didn’t anyone warn you about Nova’s wine?”

“I haven’t really eaten since I got here.” I confessed. I had an apology on the tip of my tongue but Desi arrived bearing a giant burger and fries. Despite my having given up meat a several months ago, my mouth watered instantly at the sight of it.

“I’ve got dinner!” Desi was happily presenting the plate when she realized that I had company. She eyed him carefully. “Lyle. Long time no see.” She put the plate on the counter in front of me. “Guess if you’re joining us, you’d might as well eat.” She seemed somewhat indifferent to his being there and I wondered if she found him as confusing as I did. I didn’t dwell on it too long, however, because my hunger took over and I started tearing in to the burger as though I hadn’t eaten in month. The burger tasted even better than I’d imagined. I hadn’t eaten beef for a while, but I didn’t remember it having this intense flavor. Nova had seasoned the meat with bold spices that played on my taste buds in the most unexpected ways. I moaned with contentment as the juices from the burger dripped up my arm and down my chin. Both Desi and Lyle started at me with a combination of amusement and amazement as I devoured more of the burger than I thought I would. I paused only for a moment to lick the drippings off my arm and then dove back in. Fuck vegetarianism. I thought to myself as went in for another bite. If I was living in a cage, it didn’t make a lot of sense to stick with optional dietary requirements. I’d better eat what I could get.  I vaguely noticed Desi asking for a second burger and the next refills of wine but my attention was focused on the food in front of me. When I finally came up for air Desi cocked her head to one side and muttered “Impressive.” I chugged some more wine and then leaned forward on the table.

“That was…something.” Lyle was staring at me with a look of amazement, or at least I thought it was amazement. At that point, it could have been disgust and I wouldn’t have cared.  The second burger arrived and I happily passed it on to Desi who took it to one of the men who had heralded her arrival, leaving Lyle and I staring awkwardly at each other.  I grabbed my wine and slugged it back, hoping it would prevent me from having to say anything. I was fairly certain that I was beyond the point of saying anything intelligent.

“I should explain.” Lyle spoke over the blaring music. “I should explain about earlier.” I poked my eyes over the rim of my glass. I wasn’t sure he actually owed me an explanation.  He was, after all, my doctor, not my friend. I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted the explanation. He was clearly uncomfortable as he shifted his weight from foot to food and played with the drink in his hand.

“Does Nova’s have shots?” I saved him from whatever half-assed explanation he was about to give. He nodded and waved her over. He ordered himself another beer and then requested two of something called “The Anesthetic”, which I figured was going to pack a punch.  And pack a punch it did. It tasted somewhat like I imagined turpentine to taste like and burned just about as much but Lyle ordered another around and then yet another and before I knew it, the haze had returned but stronger this time. Lyle grabbed my hand and led me to the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the room. I was about to protest that I didn’t dance but the music was loud, the beat was strong and I was much more intoxicated than I had been in a long time.  Lyle was a terrible dancer but in my drunken state, I didn’t care. The two of us owned the dance floor as we swayed and bounced and laughed.

Lyle was different, again. It wasn’t as though I knew him well. He’d cared for me when I arrived but I had the disadvantage when it came to knowing each other. He’d examined me, assessed me and created my medical file and all I knew of him was a few hours of touring the town but he seemed to be a chameleon of personality. At first he’d been relaxed but professional, then he was friendly and chivalrous, then suddenly cold and withdrawn but here he was, carefree, laughing, drunk and playful. He was a chameleon of personality.  I watched him sway around the dancefloor and decided that it wasn’t worth worrying about in this moment.

The music changed suddenly and slowed. Lyle grabbed my hand and pulled me towards him. Neither one of us was thinking clearly as he held me tight against him. I could hear his hear beating as my head rested on his chest. I hadn’t realized how much taller than me he was and my head tucked in comfortably just below his shoulder.  Lyle took my hand “I’d better make sure you get home.”

“I should tell Desi.” I looked around for my new friend.

“She left a while ago. I told her I’d take you home.”

“Oh.” I nodded as though I had a notion of the conversation he and Desi had shared. Has she told me that she was leaving? I tried to sort through the haze to remember.  It was probably a good idea that I had an escort because I really had no idea how to get home from here. Lyle placed his hand on the small of my back, yet again, and guided me out of Nova’s and in to the street. I stumbled slightly as I walked by Lyle supported me even thought he wasn’t much more stable than I was. We zig zagged our way past the swing set and the porches filled with their hydroponic plants.  Lyle wrapped his arm around my waist to support me as we approached my home.

I fell  in to my door when we arrived at my quarters. My head bounced off the metal and Lyle quickly put his hand behind it to prevent me from hitting it again. I had a fleeting thought of the pain that would cause the next day.  We stood, frozen in that moment, me leaning against his hand, him supporting me with his hand behind my head. I fought to focus my eyes as he did the same. He really was quite handsome.  His ice blue eyes pierced in to mine and  I lifted my hand to his chest. I could feel his breath as we inched closer.  My pulse was raising to match the tension building as he began to lift his other hand. His hand stroked the side of my cheek and my whole body responded. His hand slowly dropped to my side and I expected it to end up wrapped around my back. I waited for him to break the rising tension with a kiss but instead he reached over and popped open the door.

“You’d better get some sleep.” His lips brushed my ear but it seemed in that moment to be incidental contact. “Nova’s wine tends to hurt the next day.” He pushed my door open a little more and slid his hand away from the back of my head. I stood there, dumbfounded, as he bade me goodnight and headed off in to the darkness.

Well, ok then. I stepped inside my quarters and closed the door. I couldn’t decided if he had humiliated me or saved me a lot of trouble. The swaying of the room told me that, perhaps, this was a decision for another day. I used my hands to guide myself towards my bed where I collapsed face first in to the pillow.  In my stupor, I suddenly wondered if the drawers held any other clothes and realizing that they may not, I wriggled myself out of the ones I was wearing and crawled under the comforter to sleep off the evening.

Chapter 1

I have started writing a novel. It, like all my writing,  is a work in progress. It’s my first attempt at a long piece of writing…be gentle. Other chapters may appear slowly.

 

CHAPTER 1

I stared out the window as the black smoke drifted through the streets like grey tumbleweed.  How did I get here?  I couldn’t remember the last time I saw the sun. It feels as though it has been forever. The memories of fresh air and blue skies linger in my mind but all I see is ash and rubble. Remnants of iconic buildings and powerful towers line the streets but only shattered pieces remain. The greasy, dirty window reflects my mood as I wait patiently.

“Ms. Andrews?”

No, no, no. I’m not ready. Not yet.  In the distance I can see the glow from the fires that burn. My once majestic city looks like a war zone and it feels like I’m waiting to take my place in their army.  The grip on my shoulder startles me and as a gloved hand gestures my path.  I take one last look out the window.

My captor’s footsteps are heavy beside me as I make my way down the darkened hallway. Lights flicker on either side of me as I walk to meet my fate. While I’m not technically a prisoner, I might as well be. I’m not here by choice.  A little nudge in my back reminds me to pick up my steps as I start replaying the last few years in my head. The movie is grainy and choppy and reflects the severity of my choices.

The day the Sovereign came in to power no one believed that things would escalate so quickly. The world watched but the Sovereign was manipulative and seductive in his approach, laws changed and we were indoctrinated systematically to believe in the power of our new ruler. Those of us who didn’t internalize the teachings quickly found ourselves under threat. No one knew exactly what the punishment but I had a feeling that I was about to find out.

In my previous life, I was a teacher but as the Sovereign’s power grew, our curriculum grew smaller and the realm of available information narrowed.  My love of literature was no longer relevant. Days of sharing the works of Shakespeare and the great novels were replaced by mandated lessons that supported the Sovereign’s beliefs. To Kill a Mockingbird was banned for its liberal messages and novel after novel followed suit. We lived in a dystopian paradise where free thought was persecuted and seething evil reigned.  At first, I did my job and followed the mandated changes but eventually my big mouth got me in trouble.

“Turn left here.”

At the end of the hallway a heavy steel door awaited my arrival. I swallowed hard and edged myself reluctantly to the passageway that held my fate. I put my hand up to the cold metal, my pulsed raced and my blood burned in my veins but before I even had the opportunity to hesitate a large hand pushed me from behind. I stumbled through the door, shaken by the unexpected help and stunned by the bright light that awaited me on the other side. I shielded my eyes but remained blinded by the intensity of the beam.  On the other side, hints of shadows were at what could only be a table.

“Miss Andrews, you have been tried and convicted….” A voice boomed from beyond the shadows.

“Wait, what?” My confusion was honest.

“Miss Andrews, you have been tried and convicted…” The voice repeated itself despite my protests “…of insubordination, of refusing to follow doctrine and of rebelling against the Sovereign.”

“Sir?” My stomach was flipping around faster than a washing machine.

“You have been convicted in absentia and sentenced to…”

“Pardon me, Sir?”

“You have been convicted…”

“How can I be convicted if there wasn’t a trial?” I yelled past the glaring light in to the nothingness beyond.

“… in absentia…”

“There wasn’t a trial!” Apparently under the new regime, legal rights are now irrelevant.We should have known this was coming as soon as the Sovereign started tightening up borders. First, new arrivals to the country were being banned and then it was deportations. It wasn’t long before the miscreant and the immigrants were tried and sentenced without ever setting foot in a courtroom.  Not long after that the search began for the “defiant” -those who showed even a hint of disagreement to the Sovereign.  Now it was my turn. I was convicted without even knowing I was on trial.  My body was shaking with anger. The vibrations reverberated through every inch of my being.

“Miss Andrews, you need to stop talking”.

My big mouth again. When I was removed from my teaching position, I was told there would be a meeting to discuss my behavior. I guess this was it.

“You will be escorted immediately to the Underground.”

The Underground. A whole society where people who have been deemed “undesirable” by the Sovereign are sent. Up until today, I hadn’t been entirely certain it existed. It had been the subject of rumor and urban legend as people began to vanish. When people started disappearing from society, talk started of the place they were sent. Some assumed that the Sovereign merely had them killed but stirrings of this other existence continued to creep in to the gossiping of those looking for loved ones.

I tried to shade my eyes from the light beam and scanned the room for the quickest exit. The metal door was blocked by my escort. On the other side of the shadows a small square of yellow glowed. If I ran now, I might be able to get there. I bolted, aimed towards the glow but about three steps in was met by the solid wall of the beast who had brought me in. His arm extended quickly and caught me across the chest. I was on the ground before I even registered what had happened. I coughed, sputtered and moaned as a large syringe made it way towards the side of my neck.