wake up?”
“You’ll certainly wake,” Mason said, struggling for something uplifting as he rolled her onto her back. “Whether you wake on earth or in heaven, I can’t say. Either would be good, though, right?”
Her eyes flew wide. “But I don’t want to die! I’ve … never been in love.” Her eyelids fluttered. “Never kissed … a boy. Always dreamed I’d be beautiful when I … grew up. Everyone here thinks I’m … I’m ugly. Omar said …”
But Mason didn’t discover what Omar had said, because Shaylinn’s eyes drifted shut.
Mason sank back against the wall of the sick house, listening to the sounds around him. It was quieter now. He could hear men talking but couldn’t tell what they were saying or whether they were friend or foe.
Mason looked out onto the square just as the front door to his house swung in. Papa Eli stepped onto the porch, clutching his rifle inone hand. He wore a plain white T-shirt and a pair of black shorts that bared his knobby knees.
Mason scrambled to his feet and sprinted toward his great-grandfather. The old man started to lift his gun in Mason’s direction then seemed to recognize him.
“What’s going on out here?” Papa Eli asked.
“Safe Lands enforcers asked us to move into the compound. Father refused and they shot him and Uncle Colton. The men fought back, but I don’t know who won.” Mason sucked in a quick breath. “Some are dead, but some are only sleeping. The enforcers had two kinds of ammo, and I … I don’t know which kind they used on each person.”
Papa Eli looked over Mason’s shoulder. “Why didn’t someone come get me?”
A sob stole its way out Mason’s throat. “Father said to let you sleep.”
Papa Eli pursed his lips and sighed out his nose. “Get your gun, and let’s go take a look.”
Mason ran back to where he’d left Shaylinn and picked up his rifle. Papa Eli met him there, and they peeked around the edge of the sick house. Enforcers milled around the square. Two lifted Jordan’s body off the ground and carried it toward the back of the second transport.
Did that mean Jordan was alive? “What are we going to do?” Mason asked.
“Where is everyone?”
“Father sent the women into the meeting hall, thinking that was enough to keep them safe. He split up the men and told them to shoot from the forest and the roofs.” Mason took a deep breath, feeling a hint better with Papa Eli by his side.
“So the women are all trapped and no one’s shooting.” Papa Eli stepped out from behind the sick house. “Cover me.”
Mason grappled with his rifle until he was holding it correctly, though the barrel quivered like a branch in the wind. Behind him, footsteps rustled through the ferns. Mason glanced over his shoulder, hoping to see one of the village men or even Grazer. But it was Otley and an enforcer whose name badge read
Lemuel.
“Papa Eli!” Mason yelled.
Papa Eli spun around, gun ready, and he and Otley held each other in their sights.
Otley frowned. “You’re an abomination, old man! How long have they let you live?”
“I was there when they built your Safe Lands, boy,” Papa Eli said to Otley. “I didn’t want any part of it then, and I still don’t.”
“Men like you disgust me,” Otley said. “To take resources from the young and refuse liberation …”
Papa Eli chuckled—a gun pointed at his head and he laughed! “You’ll think differently someday.”
“Not likely, you stimming Ancient,” Otley said.
Otley and Papa Eli fired at the same time. The bullet’s impact sent Otley flying, and he landed on his back a few yards away. Papa Eli crashed against the sick house wall and slid down it. Blood swelled red and bright against his white shirt.
“No!”
Mason pointed his rifle at Lemuel, the barrel a blur from his shaking or from his tears, possibly both.
Lemuel raised his pistol to Mason’s head. He too had a number tattooed to his cheek. A number three. “I don’t think you’ve
“You’ll certainly wake,” Mason said, struggling for something uplifting as he rolled her onto her back. “Whether you wake on earth or in heaven, I can’t say. Either would be good, though, right?”
Her eyes flew wide. “But I don’t want to die! I’ve … never been in love.” Her eyelids fluttered. “Never kissed … a boy. Always dreamed I’d be beautiful when I … grew up. Everyone here thinks I’m … I’m ugly. Omar said …”
But Mason didn’t discover what Omar had said, because Shaylinn’s eyes drifted shut.
Mason sank back against the wall of the sick house, listening to the sounds around him. It was quieter now. He could hear men talking but couldn’t tell what they were saying or whether they were friend or foe.
Mason looked out onto the square just as the front door to his house swung in. Papa Eli stepped onto the porch, clutching his rifle inone hand. He wore a plain white T-shirt and a pair of black shorts that bared his knobby knees.
Mason scrambled to his feet and sprinted toward his great-grandfather. The old man started to lift his gun in Mason’s direction then seemed to recognize him.
“What’s going on out here?” Papa Eli asked.
“Safe Lands enforcers asked us to move into the compound. Father refused and they shot him and Uncle Colton. The men fought back, but I don’t know who won.” Mason sucked in a quick breath. “Some are dead, but some are only sleeping. The enforcers had two kinds of ammo, and I … I don’t know which kind they used on each person.”
Papa Eli looked over Mason’s shoulder. “Why didn’t someone come get me?”
A sob stole its way out Mason’s throat. “Father said to let you sleep.”
Papa Eli pursed his lips and sighed out his nose. “Get your gun, and let’s go take a look.”
Mason ran back to where he’d left Shaylinn and picked up his rifle. Papa Eli met him there, and they peeked around the edge of the sick house. Enforcers milled around the square. Two lifted Jordan’s body off the ground and carried it toward the back of the second transport.
Did that mean Jordan was alive? “What are we going to do?” Mason asked.
“Where is everyone?”
“Father sent the women into the meeting hall, thinking that was enough to keep them safe. He split up the men and told them to shoot from the forest and the roofs.” Mason took a deep breath, feeling a hint better with Papa Eli by his side.
“So the women are all trapped and no one’s shooting.” Papa Eli stepped out from behind the sick house. “Cover me.”
Mason grappled with his rifle until he was holding it correctly, though the barrel quivered like a branch in the wind. Behind him, footsteps rustled through the ferns. Mason glanced over his shoulder, hoping to see one of the village men or even Grazer. But it was Otley and an enforcer whose name badge read
Lemuel.
“Papa Eli!” Mason yelled.
Papa Eli spun around, gun ready, and he and Otley held each other in their sights.
Otley frowned. “You’re an abomination, old man! How long have they let you live?”
“I was there when they built your Safe Lands, boy,” Papa Eli said to Otley. “I didn’t want any part of it then, and I still don’t.”
“Men like you disgust me,” Otley said. “To take resources from the young and refuse liberation …”
Papa Eli chuckled—a gun pointed at his head and he laughed! “You’ll think differently someday.”
“Not likely, you stimming Ancient,” Otley said.
Otley and Papa Eli fired at the same time. The bullet’s impact sent Otley flying, and he landed on his back a few yards away. Papa Eli crashed against the sick house wall and slid down it. Blood swelled red and bright against his white shirt.
“No!”
Mason pointed his rifle at Lemuel, the barrel a blur from his shaking or from his tears, possibly both.
Lemuel raised his pistol to Mason’s head. He too had a number tattooed to his cheek. A number three. “I don’t think you’ve
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