Experiment X

7 | In Hiding

PhAsE TwO | tHe wOrLd oUtsIdE

7 | In Hiding

   “This is all I could find…It’s not much of anything…”

   Both of their eyes ravenously pour over Teran’s gathered findings for their dinner, attempting to make it out as more than what it is actually is: a meager pile of pine nuts, berries, and edible greens. A salad. For the ninth time in a row. Now it no longer has a taste. But, it is food. Some people do not even have that. They should be grateful, if anything. But these circumstances have made everyone as bitter as this scanty handful of bloody, red berries.

   Teresa’s eyes begin to well with tears. God, what she would give for delicious, cooked meat or better yet, a McDonald’s Big Mac. But that is a rarity these days, and even a delicacy for the rich who could afford the unbelievable price; and, good luck on finding any of those anymore, all restaurants, fast food places have been gutted out and abandoned, empty, greasy cultural icons of what once was. Although things like that, that reminded you of the past, of what once, aren’t completely gone. Nothing completely vanishes forever. There is the black market though…But that is dangerous play, if you’re willing to take the risk that could mean your life if you’re found out.

   Sure, they would manage to scrape by with what god-awful food, and insulting amount of it, the Arms distribute reluctantly at the Units—but they, both her and Teran, are still alive, living on their own. And it’s been what, five months on the run? In hiding. Sleeping in the underbrush, against hard, scratchy tree trunks, and from place to place, never knowing where they will end up. But they have to keep moving. That’s the only way to survive now. To not be caught. And they had come too close…

   They, the Shadows, have to know they are out there…Since…No, she cannot think about that. It will be the death of them. The death of her. Emberly is still alive. They did not kill her.

   They have her, yes, but she is a strong girl; she can take care of herself: she is still alive. There is no need to fear. No need to cry. No need to look back. She might have even gotten away from them, and is on her way right now to find them again. Who knows, it’s a possibility. Although a possibility that Teresa knew very well in heart isn’t true. Despite that, this is what she told Teran every night as she cradles him in her arms against her chest, where they fall asleep together dreaming of another life, their old life. The days of sunshine, birds, and the comfy feeling of home. The days of peace, wavering green trees, bright smiles, and blue skies, and white drifting clouds. The pristine, entrancing sound of the chimes; the silver ones with a red, detailed wooden hanging Ean had given her fifteen years ago, before all of this, before even Teran had been born.

   Fifteen years...When the Father was just gaining popularity for ending all of the supposed violence, crime, and bombing. When the constant black pall of toxic smoke had finally begun to recede from its looming drape in the horizon: when the previous three years of bombing the capitol, and every major city in the United States had ended. They had been spared, luckily. They had been unbelievably fortunate to live within a small town, and only hear skin-crawling whispers of the true horrors of the chaos occurring on the outside. Bad news always manages a way to get out, like escaping filthy tendrils of smoke, and spread like wildfire.

   Teresa remembers the unnerving uncertainty that soon followed, when the Father was “elected” into power—that day—It had been a Tuesday. She wanted more than to go back to the hospital to fulfill her duties as a nurse, but all of the hospitals had been forced to shut down due to the bombings—she had wanted more than anything to help—God knows there were dying, screaming bloodied people in the streets of Kansas City, miles from there—but she was stuck here at home. What more could she do? Ean wouldn’t have let her go anyways, even if there was a way. In fact, he had been sitting beside her as the TV blared, and the Father’s smug, handsome appearance graced the screen; he had his hand on her shoulder, comforting her. Emberly was asleep in her room, as it had been very late. Teresa didn’t remember much of what the Father said but one line pierced through her, and she could never forget it: