A soft hand covered Dana’s mouth. She jerked awake, but the small, delicate hand held her still. Dana looked over and Jesse stood over her with her finger over her mouth. Realizing that something was terribly wrong, Dana sat up. Jesse motioned for her to follow.
Making certain that no one watched, Dana slipped on her shoes. She headed for the exit, but Jesse caught her arm. She pointed at a hole in the wall and slipped through. Hurriedly, Dana followed.
They darted across the open field in the darkness to the barbed wire fence. The guards were too preoccupied with a poker game. Jesse pointed at a loose wire in the fence. She bent it and wriggled through. With a little extra effort, Dana did the same. Quickly, Jesse repositioned the wire so that it looked as strong as the others.
She ran off into the night towards what was called Shackville. Dana followed wondering why the girl had woken her. They reached the mass of trailers and small huts within minutes. Fires filled trash cans as people huddled around them with forlorn faces. One mother hugged her baby as she attempted to keep warm on the chilly night.
Skin and bones, thought Dana. She didn’t see any officers patrolling the area. She figured that the authorities didn’t worry about these people. They were probably too tired and too starved to attempt to flee anywhere.
They ran past shanty buildings that people called home. Jesse knew where she was going and all Dana could do was follow. After a few twists and turns, they came upon a small shack that was a mix of metal pieces and boards put together with nails.
Jesse opened the door and let Dana in.
“Nana is sick,” said Jesse.
Dana looked over at the cot in the place. An elderly woman lay on it coughing. Not knowing what to do, Dana felt the woman’s forehead. It burned. Dana figured that her kindness earlier made Jesse think she could help.
“I need water,” said Dana.
Jesse left the room and came back minutes later with a bucket of water.
Dana looked at the black mess. She snatched another container and wiped it out as best she could. Then, she took her shirt and placed it over the empty container. Carefully, she poured the water from the full bucket into the empty one, using her shirt as a filter.
“Boil this,” said Dana as she handed the newly filtered water to Jesse.
Dana shook her shirt and put it back on. Jesse walked back in. “Is it boiling?”
“It will in about 10 minutes.”
“I need a plant. It looks like this.” Dana drew a picture in the dirt on the floor. “Do you have anything like that here?”
Jesse nodded and ran out.
Frowning, Dana looked at the woman on the cot. She hoped her efforts helped. Dana remembered a time when her mother was called to help a neighbor with a fever. She had done the same as what Dana attempted now.
Jesse ran back in with several weeds in her hand that resembled what Dana had tried to draw.
“Put those in the boiling water,” said Dana. “When it has steeped for five minutes, and the water looks green, bring it to me.”
Dana brought the only oil lamp in the room closer. No electricity. Sorrow filled her at the idea of how these people were forced to live. And she thought she had it bad growing up. At least her family was allowed electricity, even if it was regulated.
The old woman shivered despite the on her brow. Gently, Dana dabbed the woman’s forehead.
Jesse walked back in with the cast iron pot full of newly made tea.
Dana took it from the girl, who barely managed to carry it. She found a somewhat clean spoon. Carefully, she lifted the water to the woman’s mouth and poured some in. Liquid drizzled down the woman’s cheek as it seeped from her lips.
Satisfied that she got enough of it down the old woman, Dana put the pot down and waited. There was little else for her to do. Now it was up to the old woman and nature.
She nestled on the floor in a corner, not wanting to leave the woman alone. Jesse curled in her lap whimpering.
“Shh, don’t cry,” soothed Dana wiping the girl’s tears. “It will be alright.”
“But Nana has been sick a long time.”
Dana rocked the small girl and sang to her. She sang the same lullaby that her grandfather had sung to her mother, that her mother had sung to her and her sister.
Sweet child, dry your tears.
Cast away all your fears.
Listen to the gentle wind
As its song will never end.
Sleep now, under the willow.
Sleep now, safe in nature’s cello.
Hours later, a grunting noise woke Dana. She looked up and saw the old woman staring at her.
“I told her not to, but she never listens,” said the woman.
“I’m sorry—”
“Just call me Nana. Everyone else does.”
Dana carefully stood up, taking care not to wake the sleeping Jesse as she laid the girl on the floor. “She came to me last night in the barracks and I couldn’t refuse her.”
“So you’re the one that gave her the food,” said Nana. “She brought it here for me to eat.” Nana glanced at Jesse, who still slept soundly. “She is such a kind child. She doesn’t deserve this life.”
“Are you her mother?”
“I’m too old for children,” sighed Nana. “No, I knew her mother and father before they died. Her father was killed in an accident at the plant. Her mother died weeks later from a broken heart. No one wanted a waif. God, there are so many of them here, and most can barely feed themselves. But I took her in. And now I am afraid I must leave her too.”
“What do you mean?” asked Dana.
“Child, I have been sick a long time.” A series of deep, congested coughs filled the room. “I have tuberculosis. It has gotten worse these past several months and it’s only a matter of time now.”
“But there is medicine that could cure you,” exclaimed Dana.
“Yes, but who is going to allocate precious resources to an old woman like me? I am a waste-rat, just like you are now. All who are sent here are sent here to die.”
Dana thought back on the man that had burned to death before her eyes. The truth of Nana’s statement sounded all too familiar.
“I thank you for your help,” said Nana.
The sun peeked over the horizon, and horror filled Dana as she realized that she would be late for duty. She did not want to find out what punishment would be in store for her at such an offense. “I need to get back before they know I’m gone.”
“Jesse will help you.”
The girl woke up and smiled at seeing her Nana feeling better.
“She needs to get back,” said Nana to Jesse.
The girl jumped to her feet and motioned for Dana to follow. She didn’t say much, but the intelligence in her eyes said it all.
As they ran through the dirty streets of Shackville, a man throwing waste water out his door caught Dana’s eye. It was George. She couldn’t understand why he lived there, unless he always lived there.
They locked eyes for a moment and Dana stopped running. A pipe hung from George’s mouth as he watched her. A small tug on her arm reminded her that she had to go.
Pulling herself away, Dana followed Jesse back to the hole in the fence. She squeezed through, but Jesse did not follow.
“Aren’t you coming?” asked Dana.
Jesse shook her head. “Stick to the shadows and no one will see you.” The red-haired girl ran off.
Knowing she did not have time to waste, Dana sprinted away, doing as Jesse had ordered. She hunkered low to the ground, sticking to the sides of buildings and the shadows they offered. The sun had not fully risen yet, which helped.
Soon Dana came upon the hole in the wall to her barracks. She squeezed through and placed a crate in front of it to conceal it. The snoring in the room told her that the buzzer had not sounded. Tiptoeing, she crept to her bunk and sat upon it just as the officers burst into the room.
“Everyone up!”
The fluorescent lights flickered o
n. Groggily, people sat up, rubbing the sand from their eyes. Elsie studied Dana’s muddied shirt and shoes. “Where have you been?”
“Nowhere,” replied Dana as she changed into her coveralls.
The expression on Elsie’s face indicated her disbelief, but she let the matter drop.
Dana went to her locker in the shower room. She opened hers up and found her soap missing.
“Looking for this?” said Mad Dog, holding up the bar of soap. He and his friends laughed and jeered at her.
“Give it back,” said Dana.
“Think I’ll keep it as recompense for breaking my nose,” replied Mad Dog. “Besides, no amount of bathing will rid your odor.”
Dana slammed her locker shut. Angered, she toyed with the idea of charging him.
Elsie arrived on the scene before Dana could make a choice. “Give it back, Mad Dog.”
“What are you, Elsie? Her bodyguard?”
“I said to give it back,” Elsie held out her hand. Something in her demeanor commanded respect. Even Mad Dog seemed frightened.
Backing down, he handed her the soap. “Fine. Take it.”
Elsie gave Dana the soap, who quickly put it in her locker.
“Why’d he back down like that?” asked Dana.
“Because of my father,” said Elsie. “One day, Mad Dog and his friends jumped me. My father beat the crap out of all of them. Ever since then, they’ve left me alone. Come on, let’s get some breakfast.”
That day, Dana was scheduled to work in the recycling center of the plant. She rifled through the junk she stood upon, separating the metal from paper and plastic from glass. The rest went into the chute for those in the incineration section.
She strained as she lifted up a particularly heavy piece of metal.
“Here,” said Sanders, as he grabbed the other end.
Together, they tossed it aside into the scrap metal pile. It would be melted down in another section of the plant.
“Elsie says that you weren’t in your bed all night,” said Sanders.
Dana frowned. “I was hoping she hadn’t noticed.”
“Where were you?”
An officer strolled past and they quickly bent down, each picking up some piece of trash. Once the officer had disappeared, they resumed talking.
“I met this little girl, Jesse. Her grandmother has gotten very ill and she came to find me. I couldn’t refuse.”
“Did you cure her?” asked Sanders, truly concerned about Nana.
“No,” said Dana. “She needs medicine. The kind that we are never given unless we’re important enough.”
“What does she have?”
“Tuberculosis.”
“I know exactly what she needs,” said Sanders. “But there is only one place to get it and I haven’t located it.”
“Where?”
“The underground market,” replied Sanders, as though it should have been obvious.
Of course, thought Dana, the black market. Where else would she get something she needed? The trouble was, you had to know someone who knew where it was. They kept their location secret.
Dana noticed George moving a cart full of plastic scraps. She noticed the canteen of his sticking out of his pocket. It hit her. He knew where the underground market was. Where else did he get the stuff he put in his canteen? It wasn’t issued.
Abandoning her station, Dana darted across the space to George. Her boots pounded the ground beneath her, slipping and sliding on bits of cardboard. Making sure no officers saw her, Dana grabbed George and pinned him against the wall.
“What the—”
“Where is the underground market?” demanded Dana.
“What?”
“I know you know where it is. Don’t deny it.”
Surprised by her strength and resolve, George relented. “Why would I tell you?”
“I have a friend who is ill. She needs medicine and that is the only place to get it.”
“And how are you going to pay for it?”
Dana’s grip loosened. She hadn’t thought of that. Payment. Everything came with a price.
“I can take you to it, but unless you have a form of payment, it won’t do you much good.”
“How much?” asked Dana.
“Something like medicine will cost a lot,” replied George. “Now let me go.”
Dana released him. “What if I’m able to find the money?”
“Then come find me and we’ll talk then.”
George gripped his cart and pushed it away, leaving Dana alone without a clue as to where she would find the money she needed.
Chapter Six