Read Dystopian Lullabies Page 7


  ~~~~~

  Ian blinked up at the man in front of him and wondered if he was having hallucinations. He wasn’t sure why there would be a reason for an officer to be wandering around in the woods, but he was also sure that a real officer would have shot him long before Ian had even realized that the other man was there. The man looked contemplative, and Ian gave up on his blinking when the image in front of him didn’t change. The officer must be real, and that meant that Ian was about to die.

  He wondered if it was Seth that was causing the other man to pause. It had to be obvious that Ian was a runner, but it might be that they didn’t automatically shoot children without an explanation. It wouldn’t matter. Seth would still get tagged if they took him to a medic to be checked out, and they would come to collect him just as they had been going to in the beginning. He had put the poor child through all of this, and he was going to end up right back where he had started.

  Ian couldn’t think of anything that would make the end of his story more pathetic. It was just as well that no one would ever hear it. He gave up on trying to get back on his feet. The point of “all is lost” that he had been waiting for to give himself permission to stop moving had come. He leaned back against a tree and let Seth’s weight come off of his arms and back and settle into his lap. If the officer wanted him to do something specific, then he was going to have to vocalize it. In the meantime, he was going to close his eyes and maybe the shot would take him out before he knew it was coming.

  “Here,” he heard instead. His eyes blinked back open, and he saw that the man was holding out the water canister from his utility belt. “Would you take it already?” The officer demanded. “You and the kid don’t look so good.”

  Ian’s hands reached up at the mention of Seth, and the man passed the canister off to him. “That’s better. I’ll have to take that back with me, but this you can keep.” He held out a ration bar. “It’ll mean missing out on a meal myself, but I’ll just tack that on to my tab with Jaeli. Who knows what I’ll be able to get out of her for being so self-sacrificing?” He sounded strangely pleased, but Ian was having difficulty following what he was saying. He was busy trying to coax Seth into swallowing.

  The officer, apparently tired of waiting for him to reach out and take the ration bar, tossed it onto the ground beside him. “Look, you made it this far, so I’m hoping that the two of you can stand a few more hours’ worth of waiting. You can’t get across the bridge right now -- too many eyes watching.”

  “The bridge?” Ian demanded latching onto the words. “We’re close to the river?”

  “One of those then,” the other man said (Ian could only assume to himself as he couldn’t figure out what that meant). “Yes, you’re close, but you aren’t getting any closer until I come back for you. You’ll just get yourself shot if you try.”

  “You aren’t shooting me?” Ian asked with a bit of the water from the canister dribbling out the side of his mouth as he did so. He shifted the canister back to Seth and tried to get a little more down him. It was slow going, but he was swallowing it.

  “Not unless you don’t do as I say,” the officer replied. “Just stay put and try to get some food down that little one. Oh,” he said leaning down and taking the water canister back. “Don’t die. Don’t either of you dare die until I get you over that bridge. Once you’re over there, I don’t care much what you do, but I’m not losing out on my pie just because you haven’t got the wherewithal to sit and rest quietly for a spell.” He stood and started to make his way through the trees.

  “Stay there,” he commanded over his shoulder as he went.

  That he had to be hallucinating was Ian’s only thought as he watched the man disappear. There was no other explanation for the string of nonsense that he had just heard. There were a few problems with that analysis however. The water had felt real going down his throat, and the ration bar felt real against his fingers as he reached out to pick it up off the ground. Seth seemed to actually be chewing on the piece he broke off and put into the child’s mouth.

  If he was hallucinating, then it was a rather comforting hallucination. He decided he was going to stay right where he was, just like it said.

  The next thing that Ian knew he was staring up at a ceiling. He spent several moments trying to tell himself that that couldn’t possibly be right. He should be looking up at sky and tree branches (or he should be dead). Those were the only options for which he had prepared. The ceiling, however, did not go away. He gradually became aware that he was in a bed (with a blanket and a pillow under his head), and he considered the possibility that he was still in the grips of some sort of a hallucination.

  Hallucination or not, however, he needed to figure out where Seth was. He was pretty much beyond caring about what happened to him, but he needed to know what was going on with the little boy he had brought into this until there was nothing left to know. He pushed himself up to sitting and felt more than saw a flurry of activity coming closer to him from the side.

  “You’re awake!” A voice that sounded entirely too happy for Ian’s mental state to cope with announced, and he felt hands pushing his shoulders back against a stack of pillows that seemed to have materialized out of thin air. “Don’t push yourself too hard. You were pretty exhausted and not a little bit dehydrated.”

  “Seth?” He asked not really processing anything but the fact that he wasn’t holding the little boy.

  “That must be his name,” the cheerful voice said. “It’ll be nice to be able to call him something other than ‘baby boy.’ He’ll be fine. We’ve been taking good care of him for you while you were out.”

  Fine was not a word that he was expecting, and he turned his head to tell the voice that they couldn’t possibly be fine. What he saw was a young woman (no officer’s uniform in sight) looking at him expectantly with a bowl in her hands.

  “Are you up for trying some of this now?” She asked. “I’m pushing, I know, but I saw how hungry the little one was. I figure it might be best to get some calories in you sooner over later.”

  “I don’t understand,” he said trying to make some sort of sense out of what he was seeing.

  “I didn’t think you were in a state to be taking much in when Tagan brought you to the bridge,” she said with a sigh.

  “The bridge?” He asked once again latching onto the words.

  “You’re across it now,” she told him with a reassuring smile. “You and your little one won’t have to worry about anyone chasing after you now.”

  “Not mine,” Ian told her on impulse as he tried to make the possibility of being across the river sink in to his brain. He didn’t know what to do with that. The woman was frowning at him.

  “What do you mean he isn’t yours?” She asked.

  “I’m not his father,” Ian explained.

  “Was he tagged?” She asked looking at him speculatively.

  “Yes,” he replied hurriedly, “but he isn’t defective.”

  She smiled at him again. “Of course he isn’t. He’s a perfectly wonderful baby. But, what should I be looking out for?”

  “Asthma,” Ian replied as she took the opportunity to shove some of the contents of the bowl in her hand into his open mouth. He swallowed in shock before he gave it a thought. He stared at her horrified. “What are you doing?”

  “Getting the initial reaction over with,” she told him matter of factly. “I’m not new at this. Refugees always expect ration bars instead of real food. I find it’s easier to catch you by surprise for the first bite instead of wasting time with the conversation about how it is actually edible and that I’m not trying to poison you.”

  “Just choke me?” He retorted as she laughed.

  “See, that’s a much better reaction than what I usually get. Do you think you can handle this yourself,” she held up the bowl. “Or do I need to nursemaid you?”

  “I can feed myself just fine
,” he told her a little bit insulted.

  “Here you go then,” she answered without a hint of hostility in response to his tone as she pushed it into his hands. “I’ll bring the baby in to see you.”

  “What is this?” He questioned staring at the contents speculatively as she turned to go.

  “It’s chicken broth,” she told him. “I’m Jaeli by the way.”

  “Ian,” he didn’t look up still entranced by the warm liquid swirling in the bowl as he turned it in his hands.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Ian,” she started for the door that led out of the room. She paused when she reached it and looked over at him. “Did you just risk your life to bring a child that you claim isn’t yours to safety after he was tagged to be put down?”

  “I guess,” he wondered where she was going with this.

  “Then,” she smiled at him again. “I would say that that makes you his daddy in every way that could possibly matter.”