Ruth grunted. “It wasn’t nothin’ heroic… completely by accident. We were running, the same as the rest. We’d just been attacked west of Toronto after the first of the bombs dropped and had been driving through the night when we saw Sarah lying on the road and those things standing over her. They took her girls and were about to take her too. We just did what we could; started shooting. I guess it was enough because they pulled back and let us be.”
Masterson nodded. “How many of you are there?”
Ruth frowned. “We had a lot more yesterday—I lost a lot just finding this place. We were out looking for survivors when we ran into their patrol.”
“So your attack on their convoy today, that was spontaneous?”
“We try to keep patrols out around the clock,” she said, motioning to pins on the map. “Our priority is to find survivors before they do. But, if given the opportunity, we kill them.”
“And you think you know where they are taking them?” Masterson asked.
Sarah nodded and held up the notebook. “One of the women we brought in this morning knows where a dome landed. She said their soldiers were walking survivors on the road toward it. More are being guided that way by the hour. We have contact with all of the militias in the area; they are ready to strike when we give the word.”
Masterson looked down at Clem beside him. “We need to get eyes on this thing and find out if maybe there’s a way to hurt it. How soon could your people be ready to attack?”
A door opened and a pair of women dressed in fatigues carrying pump-action shotguns filed into the open room. “Ruth, they’re here,” one said, alarm showing in her voice.
“How many?”
The girl shook her head. “There’s a lot of them this time; way more than before. I don’t know if they’ve seen us, but their numbers are growing.”
“What’s going on?” Clem asked.
Ruth looked away from the girls and locked eyes with Clem. “The Black Eyes—they found us.”
Chapter Seventy-Six
With dawn came an eerie calm as the rain beating on the roof soothed her. The storm continued, its thunder blocking the dark thoughts in her head. Laura tossed the thick comforter away and left the bed. She cautiously crept the hallway, fully expecting to see Francis still there, but he was gone. The kitchen was clean, and the door closed. On closer inspection, she could see that he’d left it unbolted. She did not know if that was a show of trust, or a test, or possibly a complete loss of faith in her.
Laura approached to the door and pulled away the heavy curtain that covered the glass pane set in the top. She saw two women standing alone at the end of the sidewalk. They were dressed head to toe in black, only their bald heads exposed. Laura eyed them suspiciously. The women stood in place until they were joined by others, then they turned toward the door and navigated the sidewalk in Laura’s direction.
She backed away, put her hand on the lock, and felt the sweat building in her palm. When she looked back up, she could see a dark-faced woman standing just outside the door. She heard the knock and before it could register, she saw her hands open the door. The woman stepped into the opening and inspected her, her head slowly panning over her body. The woman reached for Laura’s wrists. Her hands were cold and dry as she turned Laura’s palms up and inspected them.
“You’ll come with us now,” the woman said with an accent the Laura had never heard.
“But my daughter… I’m not even dressed,” she protested.
The woman waved a hand and two women brushed through the doorway, quickly draping Laura in a dark gown and heavy cloak; another woman crouched and placed a leather slipper on each foot. When they finished with her, they nudged her forward.
“Your child will attend school, you will come with us,” the woman said.
“Where is Francis? I want to talk to him,” she said.
From the back, another leathery skinned woman marched forward and scowled at Laura. She looked her up and down and gritted her teeth in disappointment. “Why always the lazy ones?” she muttered before looking Laura in the eye. The leathered woman held a small chrome box and smiled at Laura as she caressed the box in her palm. Laura felt a static sensation in the plate on her head.
“The Creator does not demand obedience… he expects it,” she said.
“And if I ref—?” Laura felt a quick squeezing sensation in her head that subsided as quickly as it came, the world going light then dark as if a light switch had been flipped. She looked back up at the leather-faced woman.
The woman glared back. “Any more questions?”
Laura shook her head no, a tear forming in the corner of her eye; she wanted to show strength, but she felt broken, her head still cloudy from the pressure. The woman showed no mercy and nodded to the others. They formed around Laura and pressed her out of the house and onto the walkway.
Not speaking, the women guided her to the street where others huddled around her in the pouring rain. She tried to turn her head but lost sight of the leathered woman. At the next house, she was forced to wait in the street as another woman was retrieved. She now understood the group she stood with were all new like her. This was their common bond; instead of resisting the huddle, she now fell into it. Hands clapped and the group shuffled along, moving quickly now. Laura recognized the course and knew they were returning to the orb.
They were stopped and formed into a straight line, standing shoulder to shoulder. Laura looked up and saw men dressed in the same dark blue as Francis moving from a hatch in the Orb. She watched them until a firm hand squeezed the back of
