“That’s her!” I hear a voice say.
I grab my knife from the table. Two strong arms grip my shoulders and I stab into the darkness. I hear a painful groan and his grip weakens. I slip free and break toward the door. The other guard grabs me from behind, twisting my arms behind my back. I’m still clutching the knife, but can’t use it. I can’t understand why the guards don’t simply shoot me. Perhaps Samuel ordered me captured alive only to later roast me slowly on a fire. I scream, panicking as I realize I can’t break free this time.
“Stop resisting, you stinking rat!”
The guard smacks my head, still tightly gripping my knife arm behind my back.
Screaming, my mother charges into him. She claws at his eyes and the guard releases his hold, cursing.
“Run!” my mother yells.
I stagger several feet outside the door, still watching as the guard slams the butt of his rifle against my mother’s face. She falls, and he trains the rifle my direction. Time seems to stand still, then the noise of gunfire snaps me out of my stupor. I scream in horror, turning, and take off. I run as fast as I can, heading toward the edge of the village and into the Field. I hear heavy footsteps behind as more guards come after me. I increase my pace even more, leaving my pursuers behind. When I’m far enough into the Field where I no longer hear footsteps, I fall on my hands and knees, and begin sobbing.
I can’t let them kill my mother, I think in desperation. I must rescue her somehow.
CHAPTER 17
I wander between the massive piles of garbage, carrying an empty glass jar I found on the ground. It’s already light outside and getting hot. I scan my surroundings and sniff expectantly at the air but can’t detect what I’m looking for.
There are numerous torn bags of rubbish strewn about the Field. There are old tires, broken pieces of furniture, empty cans, books and almost anything you can think of. The Field stretches for miles in every direction, and an outsider may think that you can find nothing useful in this endless sea of waste. But being a former picker, I know one can discover real treasures here. Sometimes you can find jewelry, still usable clothing or shoes. There are tons of metal, paper and plastic waiting to be recycled. I’m looking for one thing in particular though, something that may help me rescue my mother.
An hour after escaping the guards, I was brave enough to approach the village. I stalked the guards who were looking for me, concealing myself behind houses and meager brush. I saw Samuel speaking with Dimitri. I watched as guards led Tanya and her relatives into a small shack. I believe they are holding my mother in the same place. Samuel left behind two guards to secure the shack. I have no choice but get past them if I hope to free my mother and Tanya along with her family. So what can I do against two guards armed with automatic rifles? Well, I suppose I might do quite a lot actually.
I finally pick up the sharp stench of chemicals in the hot air. I follow the nauseating smell, which makes me gag. My eyes begin to burn and I have a strange taste in my mouth. I approach several rusty kegs and touch one, examining the lid. It’s closed tightly. I place the glass jar beside my feet and attempt to pry it open, but the lid doesn’t move. So I stick the blade of my knife underneath and push as hard as I can. The lid pops open, producing a loud metallic clank. I gasp, turning my face away. The reeking odor is almost unbearable. I grasp the keg with both hands and carefully bend it over the jar. My arms shake from the effort. I watch carefully as the clear liquid pours from the container into the jar. Acid.
When the jar is almost full, I tilt the keg back into its position. I wipe off the jar with a piece of cloth I’d picked up earlier, making sure no acid gets on my hands. Then I take the jar and head back toward my village. When I’m about a mile away, I stop and rest. I have to wait until dark. I notice a small piece of cardboard lying a few feet away. I place it on top of the jar, feeling nervous. I fully realize that what I intend to do is very violent. But I can’t worry about my conscious at the moment. I have to save my mother. I lean back against a garbage bag, trying to relax.
Fatigue soon overwhelms me. I’ve slept only three or four hours during the last two nights. I close my eyes, drifting off. I can still smell the stench of rotten food and chemicals, but an image of a white sand beach crosses my mind. Amethyst sits in front of me, smiling in the bright sunshine and watching the ocean waves. She turns to me and I see deep bloody cuts across her face. Her lips are still stretched into a wide grin, but her eyes are now empty and dead.
I awaken, anxious and scared, my right hand tightly clutching the knife. But nobody is near. I’m completely alone here,
