Looking toward the blacktop road, Clem stared mesmerized at the burning hulks of the vans and pickup trucks once filled with children. He staggered closer, stopping at the body of a woman he didn’t recognize. He knelt beside her and used his palm to close her eyes.
“Over here,” Masterson said from farther ahead and closer to the building.
In a depression lay the body of Grandmother; the red-haired woman’s chest was covered in blood and she was wheezing. Masterson pulled her from the ditch and rested her head on his lap. He put a hand to her bloody chest then looked up at Clem, shaking his head. She strained to move and pointed at her pack. “Get it for me,” she gasped.
Clem moved to the spot and retrieved a small bag and placed it by her side. She fumbled through a front pouch and fished out the small notebook. She pushed it in Clem’s direction as she coughed and blood curled over her bottom lip. “Get my girls back,” she whispered.
She reached a hand back and Masterson took it. He felt her grasp loosen as the old woman wheezed and drew her last breaths. Slowly and gently, he rolled her head from his lap. “What are we going to do?” he said, examining the destruction surrounded in the flames of the burning vehicles and warehouse.
Clem lowered his head and sucked in a deep breath before dropping to his knees. Falling back on his rear, he flipped through pages of the notebook, stopping at a hand-drawn map of a small, walled village with an orb positioned in the center. “I’m going to get them back, or kill as many of those things as I can trying,” he said.
Chapter Seventy-Nine
She stood by the picture window, watching as new arrivals were marched down the center of the street. Unlike the last ones, some men were present in this group. Ragged and in torn clothing, they were under close guard as they carried suitcases and held the hands of children. Rows of the armed black-eyed Deltas and several of the red-sleeved soldiers were always close by, unlike other groups of new arrivals.
The people were being herded toward wide, blue, steel transports. A group of guides stood near the transports, examining each person before directing them to the back of a cargo hold. Watching, Laura was able to detect a pattern; the young and healthy always moved to the left, while the old and sick to the right. She turned and looked to Francis who was sitting at the dining room table, eating a small meal of cheese and sliced meats—the man was spending more time at the house now.
They’d barely spoken since she’d returned from the kitchen duty. Out of fear that her words may be true, she didn't want to bring up her conversation with the old woman—that Francis was now her mate. She shook her head, refusing to accept the idea. Instead, she asked, “What are they doing with them?”
Francis kept his eyes on the plate to his front. “The local population is being relocated; well… those sensible enough to join us.”
She glanced back at the transports, then to Francis. “Why separate them?”
Francis lifted a fork-full of meat to his mouth and chewed slowly. He turned and looked Laura in the eyes then waved a hand at her dismissively. “Because of your people’s refusal to surrender, resources are now scarce; we don’t have enough for everyone. They have destroyed too much of our infrastructure and transports, as well as our ability to gather more. Because of their ignorance, this place is no longer safe for us.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means choices have to be made, not all will be allowed to move with us.”
With her breath held to control her emotions, she turned and approached the table. “What do you mean move?” Laura asked.
“The council has decided to give up on this area; we will be leaving soon.”
She took a pitcher of water from the table and refilled his drinking glass. Francis looked up and acknowledged her actions with a smile. “Leaving?” she asked.
He nodded, lifting the glass and taking a long drink. “We will join the large communities in the city. This communal will be abandoned. They never should have attempted to settle here so far from support in the first place. Once we leave, the surrounding areas will be quelled by the witnesses. Maybe we can return one day when it’s safe.”
“Quelled?” Laura said, unable to hide the horror in her voice.
“Yes, it will take time, but they will bring this place to peace,” Francis said calmly.
“By killing everything?”
Francis swore under his breath before looking up at her. “It is unfortunate, but the local population refuses to submit. What other choice do they have? The people committing these crimes have to be dealt with.”
Laura returned to the window and pulled back the curtain, pointing to the right trailer. She turned back and began shaking her head at the man. “And what of them? You didn’t explain why they are separating them.”
Francis snorted and laid his fork beside his plate. “Those not chosen to continue on our path will be given the gift of the message. They will become witness to the truth and continue our fight here.”
She shook her head and backed away from the window, watching as an old man pushed a boy in a wheelchair up the ramp of a transport to the right. “You’ve lied to them all; they think you will protect them.”
“And we are protecting them. Those people are old and sick; when they awaken, they will be strong and a vibrant part of the communal.”
“They need to be warned.” She turned from the window and rushed to the door. Francis got there first and blocked her with his shoulder. Knocking her away, she fell hard
