Sighing, I set my cup on the ground, cross to the passed-out citizen and hoist him by the armpits. As I’m slowly dragging him to the infirmary, the male nurse from before—who fled when things were getting heated—ducks out to help me bring him the rest of the way in. “Thanks,” he says after we both haul the guy onto a cot.
“No problem,” I huff. “I don’t think he’ll be too happy when he wakes.”
The nurse shrugs and heads back to his station, not checking on the man once. “At least he’s alive and not in shackles.”
Watching him take a seat behind his desk and ignore everyone, I shake my head and leave to fetch my cup, quickly filling it at the faucet before the soldiers come back and try to ration me as well. Dodging back inside the infirmary, I return to Olivia’s side.
Touching her shoulder, I nudge her. “Hey. Here you go.”
She mumbles and sighs, back in her slumber, eyes moving but not opening. Sitting back down next to her, I drop my arms into my lap and set the cup on the floor where it won’t get knocked over, letting my chin drop to my chest with a defeated breath.
“Julia?”
My head pops back up.
“Olivia?” I sit forward over her. “Are you okay? How are you feeling?”
She softly smiles at me and it reaches her eyes, making some of the stress in me melt. “I’m okay now. I’m glad you’re here.”
My own smile starts to fade before it fully forms. “Me too.”
Me too…
I reach out to take her hand, hoping my misgivings are just misgivings. Because if they’re already rationing water here… My stomach growls on cue.
Food will be next, and if that’s the case with morale already so low...
I squeeze Olivia’s hand. “Me too.”
THIRTY-FOUR
REGROUP
Julia
Two daysafter the water incident, Olivia and I hunker down for the night in the tent we’ve been assigned to in the unattached woman’s section. She lies beside me, trying to get comfortable within the plastic blankets we’ve been provided, trying to fall asleep while I pet her hair. Since waking from her coma, she’s mostly been quiet, and when I do get her to speak she just gives me one word answers. She says it hurts to talk now that she’s no longer receiving painkillers… but I can’t help thinking she’s depressed.
I know nothing about Olivia’s life prior to her ship’s crash but from what I’ve gleaned, she’s lost someone close to her—and knows they’re gone—because she hasn’t tried searching for anybody. When we arrived at our tent a couple of hours ago, there was a barrage of questions from dozens of other refugees: who we’ve seen, what ship we were on, were there others with us who didn’t make it, and more. Everyone wants information.Anyinformation.
Except her.
Finally, she manages to find sleep, her breath slowing into an even, peaceful cadence. Sighing, I pull off my boots and rub my feet.
I’m thankful to be free of the infirmary and the ever-constant aura of illness. I could’ve left it sooner, except I would have had to leave Olivia behind, and I want to do what I can for her while I’m able. I ended up convincing the head nurse to let me remain until she was ready with a bid to help out with the patients. It didn’t take much convincing, the soldier-medics manning the infirmaries were eager for extra hands. Everyone’s overwhelmed.
Because I took to it so well, I’m going back there first thing tomorrow morning. Olivia and I have both been assigned ‘jobs’ to earn the little amount of rationed supplies they’re willing to give us. Though Olivia does not have to start her duties for another several days, mine will continue from where I’ve already found my feet.
I’m more than fine helping. I just have no intention of playing soldier anymore. But they don’t have to know that I used to be one of them. I’ll pretend well enough in their presence.
Some of the soldiers want to defect too, I can tell, and what’s worse, I’m certain many already have.
The light inside our small tent, which is sectioned down the middle to save room for the next two unattached female refugees to arrive, grows dim, washing away the last of the day’s colors. I tug my boots back on and pull my legs under me to stand. With no cots to sleep on and only plastic to shield us from the ground, I don’t think I’m going to get much rest tonight.
I’m feverish… uncomfortable. My body is tingling.
I need to walk until I’m so tired that sleeping is the only option.
Stepping out of the tent, I peer at the rows around me and the small campfires in between. Groups of people linger aroundthem, ranging in size. Some raise their heads and eye me as I glance around, checking if there are any soldiers nearby. Seeing none, I shake out the tension in my shoulders and turn left, striding down past the last of the tents that are still in process of being set up. Two men, refugees I assume, due to their civilian clothes, look up at me from where they’re sorting their supplies. Without saying a word, I walk past them and into the cleared-out space beyond, where a series of ruins and crumbling buildings remain unallocated. Though much of the old facility has been cleared out by machines, there are still at least a dozen or so buildings like these within the barricade. I don’t know how large the encampment truly is yet, but I’ve at least figured out the barrier spans farther than the active part of the base.
