Chapter 34

Never in his wildest imagination would Adam have thought the night could have so many different sounds. In his own little bunk in IW, the only noise he ever heard was the occasional sound from another one of the Dicks. But even that was a rarity. To make sure the men were well-rested, gas to make them sleep was piped into their sleeping quarters every night. Everyone slept for a full eight hours—never more, never less. Now, sitting here, listening to what he imagined were mostly bugs and birds, he didn’t know when he might sleep again. Would he even be able to force himself to sleep on his own?
It was pretty clear Mist and Walt were not sleeping. He tried to hide a chuckle, listening to them in the tent, which was about five feet away from where he sat, keeping an eye on the situation. He had the screen in his hand and checked it regularly to make sure there were no Mothers approaching from between the trees, but he felt fairly safe at the moment.
Which wasn’t to say he didn’t believe the Mothers wouldn’t find a way to hunt them down. Mist’s fancy devices were impressive, but he knew the Mothers had other weapons up their sleeves, ones the women who’d planned this escape probably hadn’t even thought about yet. Unless they were closer to Oklasaw than they thought, or there were other people living in these parts that would help them, the possibility of getting away was slim.
Some of the others might make it to the borders, though. The southern border was closer, as was the one to the east. If the rebels running those directions could make it to Spanish-America or Orlean, they could find help there. Spanish-America was a lot more powerful than the small country of Orlean, and it was clear the nation to the south wanted the men of Michaelanburg to be free. But the women who’d organize the rebellion seemed to think there was a little help to be found in Orleans, possibly Oklasaw, too. Just not enough to keep them safe indefinitely. For that, they’d have to continue north, through Oklasaw, Middlecountry, and on up to the Nation of Quebec. No one knew for sure what lie in their path. The women who’d spoken to him in whispers and clipped sentences weren’t sure, though they had an understanding through their own research and observations utilizing satellite photography that there was a great deal of untamed forested area, some grasslands, and miles and miles of nothing.
Nothing but places to hide--nothing but places to be found and cut down in a pool of blood.
He had a feeling, though, if he were caught by a Mother with any sense at all, he wouldn’t be mowed down where he stood. No, he’d be taken in and interrogated. Because even though Lightning was under the impression she’d shut down all of the cameras, the chances that there weren’t a completely different set none of the students were aware of were pretty good, and he was certain by now that the Mothers would know his role. And if they caught anyone else, they’d have their way of making those people talk, too. Which meant he better not get caught.
The same could be said for Mist who had a huge hand in all of this, unbeknownst to Rain, apparently.
And for Rain herself.
Thinking of her made his lip quiver slightly. He had no idea if she was actually able to sleep in there, but now that the other two seemed to be slowing down their kissing fest--he assumed that’s all it was--maybe she could fall asleep. Rain was nothing like the girl he’d been dreaming of for the last three years.
She was so much more.
He distinctly remembered the first time she’d chosen him. He had to be one of the first Dicks she ever picked because she was so nervous, he could feel it rolling off of her. He hadn’t been in IW long himself, not even a year. He always sat behind the wall, waiting to be chosen, half hoping he didn’t, even though he knew Dicks that didn’t get chosen often would be punished and eventually disappeared.
Then, the wall had opened, and she’d been standing there, shaking a little. He’d seen it, even though she was trying to hide it. Even with that stupid shadow sock on his head, he could tell she was beautiful, which made him nervous, too, because the beautiful ones were always mean. Rarely was that not the case, although he saw now that Mist was also quite lovely but surely wasn’t mean to her Dicks. Not that she’d ever chosen him. He was pretty sure she hadn’t.
Rain had gotten on top of him and did what she was required to do, but it was clear she didn’t want to be there. Most of the women at least thrust their hips and moaned a little. She did little more than sit there that first time. It had taken forever for him to finally shoot his seed, and when it finally happened, he was pretty sure not only would she give him bad marks, she’d never choose him again.
But she had. Time and time again, she’d chosen him. Sometimes with the others, he couldn’t tell if it was a woman he’d had before, but there was usually something about them that put a memory in his head. A scent, a cry, the shift of her hips. With Rain, he always knew it was her.
He’d had plenty of mean women. Those put permanent memories in his head, and sometimes scars on his body. He’d been slapped, bitten, had his chest hair ripped out, not to mention the countless scratches from long fingernails. There were times he’d wished he could just be sent over the Bridge to have it all be over.
But those desperate thoughts had come before he’d met Rain. After that, he’d spent all of his free time thinking of her, wondering what she was doing, what her name was, what she really looked like with the lights on.
He’d memorized her schedule. On days when he knew she’d be in IW, he’d anticipate her arrival, hoping he wouldn’t have already been chosen by someone else when she came in. On days when he was available at her appointed time, and she didn’t choose him, it had crushed his soul. When she did, he did everything he could to please her, to get her to actually acknowledge that she was enjoying herself a little. So rarely did it seem like she had even a spark of pleasure from their interactions. Yet, she continued to choose him, and he always got high marks on days when she did, so she had to be ranking him high--even if she didn’t let on like she appreciated his efforts.
A new sound in one of the trees caught his attention, and Adam peered through the branches, across the horizon, into the field of stars, trying to figure out what it might be. It could be an owl, based on what sounded like a hoot, but he couldn’t see it, so he couldn’t be sure. Sitting out here, staring at the wonders of nature would've been relaxing if he wasn’t being hunted. And while he was pretty sure tigers weren’t nocturnal, some big cats might be.
The sound faded, and his mind returned to the day he knew Lightning was going to pull the plug on the machines, the day that they were going to test the vulnerability of the system. He’d been informed quite a bit about what was going to go down since he’d already volunteered to lead his shift. The idea of getting out was so enticing, he was willing to do whatever it took to get there. After all, whatever methods of torture they came up with couldn’t possibly be as bad as what he’d endured at the hands of the IW Mothers, could it? A shudder went down his spine as he thought about some of the atrocities he’d seen others go through. He had a few memories of his own he tried to block out, one in particular he refused to acknowledge. The worst visions that clouded his mind had involved other men, friends of his, people that could’ve been him under other circumstances.
For hours before the first breach, he’d been thinking about what it might be like to have the lights on while Rain was in the room. When she’d chosen him during the timeframe Lightning was expected to put her plan into place, he’d felt as if fortune were smiling upon him for once, like maybe it was a sign that this plan could work.
But then he’d finished, and she’d gotten off of him, and his chair was about to be sucked back into the wall without Lightning’s team having managed to get their test off the ground. The idea of being so close to finally getting to see her but missing the chance, had him wallowing in despair. Then the lights had come on, his chair stopped, and there she was.
For three years, he’d imagined what she looked like. When he first looked at her, he’d been shocked. Not only was she stunning, but her hair was such a vibrant shade of red. Most redheads were sent over the Bridge as babies or small children, especially the men, because it was seen as a defect, a character flaw. He’d had no idea she had that adorable sprinkle of freckles across her nose and cheeks, or jade colored eyes that seemed to glow even in the faintest light.
He’d seen the outline of her face but hadn’t realized how luscious and full her red lips were or the way her long eyelashes fluttered when she was frightened. She’d stood there by the door, that black shirt barely covering the curve of her hips, let alone her perfectly toned thighs, and she’d warned him that she could protect herself.
When he’d heard of the rebellion, he thought it might be worth it to participate if it meant he’d get to see her face. Once he was looking directly at her, without the shadow sock in his way, he knew he had a reason to live.
The sound of the tent unzipping brought him back to the present and had his head turning in that direction. The shock of red hair he’d just been admiring in his memory was visible first, and then her beautiful face, looking over at him through the darkness. The way she took him in, he couldn’t tell if it was just curiosity, or if there was more to that stare. She seemed to be so disinterested in him when he was in IW, all but that last time when she’d seemed only a little more into it. Was there more to Rain than he’d given her credit for? Was it possible her reasons for being so aloof in the IW chamber had more to do with her than it did with him?
As she made her way over to him, her foil blanket in one hand, her gun in the other, pointed at the ground, he had no way of knowing for sure, but he wanted to find out. If anyone could make Adam forget the horrors of IW, it was the beautiful woman standing in front of him.