Dissidence (20 page)

The thrill of victory is wearing off and the shock of what we’ve just done is starting to set in. More than anything, I want to step aside, let someone else step up to run this show. Or better yet, take Peter and Connor and just get the hell out of here while the getting’s good, but I’ve got all of these faces staring back at me, just waiting to hear the next step in this non
-
existent plan. They
look tired, hungry, dirty, frightened and confused . . . just like me, and I can’t bring myself to let them all down. Damn, freaking conscience. Out beyond the crowd
,
the fields are littered with bodies, some moving, some not, some crying out for help . . .

“We have to do something for them. Is there somewhere we can take
all
the injured? Do we have any medical supplies here at all?”

“I’ve seen a few guards getting patched up for one thing or another over there.” Peter identifies a nearby structure, not metal like the rest, but wooden. What a luxury for the guards not to have to cook inside those tin cans.

“Right,” Connor’s voice booms over the crowd, “is anyone here a doctor?”

One
older looking man raises his hand
, and a
woman
comes
forward claiming to be a nurse. Connor waves them both over. Some of the wounded are trying to make their way over to the rest of us, limping, crawling, however they can. Others can’t even manage that much.

“Everyone else spread out,” I shout, hoping my voice doesn’t give away the serious number nerves are doing on my stomach. “Help anyone t
hat’s hurt over to there
.”

I point out the building that Peter indicated, and immediately people start dispersing throughout the camp, checking bodies and offering aid. It’s incredibly weird in a satisfying sort of way to have this many people actually listening to what I say.
That . . . and completely terrifying.

“I need to see what kind of supplies I have to work with, and get them organized before we ge
t mobbed.” The doctor’s nervously scanning the sheer number of people headed his way, and I wonder if he’s already sorry he volunteered for this.

W
e all follow Peter over to the makeshift ‘hospital’ to check it out. Inside, the building is divided into several rooms. The first is some kind of common room with a sofa, card table and a small kitchen area, including a stove and refrigerator. I wonder what’s in there. Maybe later I’ll get a chance to check it out, but right now I should probably be looking for something a little more useful than a cold drink.

Off to the side are two doors, both of which lead to small offices. The desk drawers are heavy and difficult to open with only one hand
,
but I manage. Inside, I find papers strewn haphazardly, none of them organized in any way that I can make out.

“What a slob.”

“Yeah, things aren’t much better over here.” Peter’s rifling through a filing cabinet in the corner. “I have no idea what this guy’s filing system was, but I’m pretty sure it isn’t based on the English language, or any numerical system known to man.”

I continue scanning page after page of production statements, disciplinary reports, and order forms until I fee
l like my eyes may bleed. On
ly one
thing stands out. A
name: Drew Reynolds.

“Hey, have you ever heard of Drew Reynolds?” Peter asks before I get the chance.

“No, but his name is all over these forms. Probably works for
Permatech
, whatever the hell
that
is.”

“His name’s on these too, looks like he’s pretty important. Do you think he’s here?”

I scan over the papers with his name on them again. All of them are folded in thirds.

“I doubt it.
Looks like all of these were
all
mailed.”

“Too bad.
I’d like to get my hands on someone in charge of all of this,” Connor muses from the doorway.
Nice of him to join us.
I bet
he
was raiding the fridge.

The second office proves to be just as fruitless as the first. Enough paper to start a great bonfire, but that’s about it. In the back of the building
,
we find a much larger room with comfortable looking beds, and an attached bathroom. Clearly, the guard’s quarters . . . and I bet
all of them even got their own bed. Best of all, we come across a large metal locker bursting with medical supplies.

People are already starting to pour in, some nearly dragging others behind them.  But, before she can begin working on them, Peter pulls the nurse aside and insists she
examines
my hand and arm. No amount of arguing is g
oing to dissuade either of them
once she gets a look at the filthy bandage on my hand, so I reluctantly give in.
 

“Let’s see what we have here.” The nurse
unwraps
the shirt shards,
tutting
at the sloppy work as she goes. As if she could have done better with what we had to work with. “You’re lucky this hasn’t gotten infected.”

No, really?  Glad she has all those years of training behind her expert opinion. All right, so apparently pain plus stress brings out a whole new level of bitchiness in me, but
seriously
.

“This really needs to be stitched. Let me see what we have.” With that cheery thought, she disappears into the crowd towards the supply locker.

Stitches?
  Just the idea is making me q
ueasy. That’s
me.T
he
girl who can sneak in and out of work camps at will, and start a
riot
, but can’t stomach the idea of getting a needle pulled through her skin. Tough as nails, I am. 

“You
gonna
be able to hold it together, or do I need to get a barf bag?” Sure, yesterday he’s all worked up over a cut, but now that I’m about to have a needle and thread pulled through my bare skin Peter’s amused.

When the nurse returns with the sharpest, longest needle I’v
e ever seen in my entire life—
so
not
exaggera
ting—
Peter holds out his hand for me. “Hang on.”

I squeeze until I’m fairly certain he’s trying to hide a
grimace behind his smile. Sorry,
pal, but I’m pretty sure m
y hand hurts worse than yours. S
uck it up. Of course, in our half-assed hospital, anesthetics are nonexistent. I can feel every single jab of the needle and tug of the twine. Not something I care to repe
at . . . ever. By the time she’
s finished
,
I’ve been clenching my teeth so long my entire jaw hurts. My hand felt about a million times better
before
I let her touch it, so I’m beginning to wonder about her training after all.

“Now
it won’t get infected.” She wraps a clean white bandage around my hand, but I’m not convinced which would have been worse, the stitches or the infection. “Now let’s have a look at your arm.”

I’m reluctant to let this woman get anywhere near my arm. It hurts, but nothing like my hand. Luckily, she declares that the injury doesn’t require any kind of special procedure, just some ointment and another bandage.
Lucky for her,
because if she co
me
s
near me with that needle again
,
I may have to hit her.
When I’m all wrapped up, Peter leans back to take me in, shaking the feeling back into his hand.

“You’re a mess.”

“Yeah?
Well, you don’t look so great yourself.”

“At least I don’t look like some kind of mummy.” That’s nice,
real
nice. I’m in pain and he’s laughing at me. Why did I come back for him again?
 

The nurse comes back just to shoo us out of the building to make room for her next patient.  I feel a great swell of pity for whomever that poor soul is, and vacate the area as quickly as I can manage. 

“I was just coming to look for you.” Connor catches up with us as soon as we step outside. “Feeling better?”

“Worse
,
actually.”

“Oh
,
quit complaining.” Peter’s
still
laughing to himself.

“Fine
,
you get a body part sewn up next time.”

“Well
,
you look better, except maybe that green
tinge
to your face.” And now Connor
’s laughing too.
Unbelievable.
T
hey’ve finally decided to join forces on something
,
and it’s to tease me. How did I ever get so lucky?

“W
hat can we do now?” I’m anxious to get busy. Keeping
myself
occupied has always been my best coping mechanism, and I could really use one of those at the moment.

“Everything’s pretty much being taken care of,” Connor informs us, much to my dismay. “All of those with injuries are being triaged as we speak, and some people volunteered to move the . . . um, uh . . . the bodies away.”

Yeah, I could definitely use a new coping mechanism right about now.
“Where are they putting them?”

“Outside the fence for now.
They’re planning to dig a mass grave after they collect as many names as they can. Just in case,
ya
know?”

I know. Maybe someday
,
we’ll actually be able to tell their loved ones what happened to them, bring them a little peace. It may be wishful thinking, but at least it’s a kind thought, and it’s giving them something to do.

“Once things settle down, we’re going to have to move these people.” Peter’s right, but where?

“Where in the world are we going to be able to take all of these people without anyone noticing? It just isn’t possible.”

“So we don’t take
all
of them,” Peter rationalizes. “I heard colony M isn’t far from here. Maybe they’ll be willing to take some of them in once they know what’s happening out here. Then we can move on, dropping off smaller groups of people in colonies as we go. I know it’s a long shot, but at least s
ome of them should be able to
assimilate and disappear with a good enough cover story.”

That’s actually not a bad idea at all. It’s very similar, in fact, to the plan I had for the three of us once we got out of here . . . just on a much larger scale. Of course, that makes everything more complicated.

“The three of us could have pulled it off, but if six or seven hundred people go traipsing into a colony
,
someone’s bound to notice.”

“M
ost of us won’t go
into
the colony. Just the one’s who’ll be staying. The rest can wait outside the fence. In fact, we should probably just send one or two people in at first to speak with someone in charge, and make sure they’ll let a group stay.” For once
,
he’s making perfect sense.

The original idea was to just sneak inside a colony and try to build a life for ourselves somehow without anyone noticing. Okay, it had a few holes, but with this many people it’s completely shot to hell. We’re going to need
someone’s
help to get everyone assigned jobs and living arrangements.

“They’re
gonna
need at least a day or so to get everyone patched up and ready to move anyway,” Connor confirms.

“Perfect. Leigh and I can go to colony M and check things out
there
.” Whoa, when did I volunteer to play ambassador? “If we leave now, we can be back in a few days. Think you can have everyone ready to go by then?”

“We can try. What do you say, Girlie?
This all right with you?”

What can I say? No, I’d rather stay here and hide in a corner? Guess I’m going to colony M.

“All right, fine, let’s do this,
” I agree, but make no attempt to conceal my reluctance.

“Have fun.” Connor pats me on the shoulder with a grin, and I just nod. Whatever
possibilities today has in store for us, I doubt
fun
will be among them.

Chapter 19

Peter and I pack a couple of satchels that we scrounge
d
up from the
guard’s quarters
with some food and
bottles
of water
. It will be a real luxury to actually have supplies for this trip.
The only thing we really had going for us when it was me and Connor hiking out of a work camp was the weather, minus that one nasty rainstorm. Now, it feels like we’re walking through a freaking furnace. Half my water bottle is already gone by the time we stop for the night, and Peter’s shirt is clinging to each of the muscles in his shoulders and back, which I haven’t been able to stop staring at for the past three hours.