Marked

It was a quiet ride back to the compound and the events of the day had certainly left their mark on all of them.

A gash ran the length of Ruth’s left cheek, Bane’s wound still wept blood and Rachel was black and blue with bruises.

She recalled how slow their trek back to the pick-up had been.

Once there, they’d found the emergency radio kept stashed under the driver’s seat and while Bane had sat on a rock, crying himself into oblivion, Ruth had radioed the compound for help.

It had been Kenneth and Sung who’d arrived shortly after sundown.

Since the solar battery in the pick-up had been riddled through with bullet holes, rendering it useless, they’d had to wait for the guys to siphon what little gasoline could be found within the old cars lining the highway leading up to the compound.

They’d brought along a hunk of blue metal, a van with paint chipped off from years of sun exposure.

Robotically, they’d all filed into the back, the shock of the night’s events still fresh in their minds.

Sitting in the van, getting a good whiff of the cursed liquid that burned through the engine, Rachel couldn’t help but hate gasoline.

She’d heard all the stories-- about a dying planet, the exploitation of resources, the famines and the droughts.

When the crops had become few and water scarce, entire nations had been thrust into a war for survival that had nearly destroyed humanity.

And Rachel hated gasoline, hated the Council of Nations, hated everything that had led to the CN rising into power.

Without the Council of Nations initiating the Mark, Rachel and her people would have never been hunted and someone somewhere wouldn’t be planning a funeral for Elena and her baby.

If it wasn’t for the CN...Jed would still be with her.

A sting at her arm shocked her out of her thoughts.

Sung, a tanned man with dark, pinched eyes sat across from Rachel in the back of the old van. His face was scrunched up in concentration as he placed stitches into a long gash on Rachel’s forearm.

She knew they were lucky to have him.

He’d been a doctor before the transition--the period of time when the mark began to be implemented-- and he loved to tell fairy tales of a time before the Great War, a time where kindness had abounded, where the currency was paper money and where freedom was more than just a dream.

It was Sung who taught most of their history.

When Mexico, Canada and the United States had joined forces, he’d been stationed on the front lines, proving aid to those suffering from E-91, the deadly virus unleashed on the world through biological warfare.

When the CN began to introduce the Mark as a foolproof way to ration the countries dwindling supplies and create an army, Sung had seen what it could do., how it could turn people into unfeeling war machines, and had refused it.

But refusing the mark was a crime punishable by death and so he’d headed for the mountains, far from the city where no one could take his freedom.

Now here he was- thin, aging and scared like the rest of them.

But he was alive, and he was free and that was what counted in Rachel’s book.

***

Rachel must have fallen asleep because the sound of the doors being drawn open startled her awake.

“Bane! Are you okay? Is Elena okay? The baby?” A woman wearing a deep green shawl draped over her shoulders appeared at the foot of the van and Rachel quickly recognized her as Elena’s mother.

The older woman peered into the van, searching, and her eyes filled with confusion when she didn’t find her daughter.

“No,” She whispered.

Understanding washed over her face and she collapsed onto the ground in a crying heap. “No!” The woman sobbed.

Rachel had to get away.

Her heart hurt for them, but there was no room left inside her for someone else’s suffering.

Leaving the others behind, she made her way up the mountain, toward the wide-mouthed cave that served as an entrance into the compound.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small metallic container.

Inside it was a candle the size of a coat button.

She flipped it on with a match and let it lead the way

To the untrained eye, the compound looked like any other mountain, like any other cave.

There were winding labyrinths of smooth, gray stone and every now and then, something would glimmer in a corner.

Diamonds.

Though they were beautiful to look at, they were completely worthless but at least served a purpose as guides.

When she reached the end of the maze, she set down her candle and dug her fingers into a corner of dirt. She found a latch which released with a small sigh, lifting to give Rachel access to the ladder below.

Gathering up her candle once more, she began trekking her way down the iron rung.

The further she went, the more easily she could make out the bustling sounds of her home.

Soft, yellow light bled across the narrow entrance , elongating her shadow against the rugged walls of the tunnel.

The light below, she knew, was the product of the hundreds of lamps that burned quietly within their stone fortress.

As her feet hit the packed earth, she could already tell that compound was alive with movement and chatter.

The enormous communal space where everyone gathered in the evenings to eat was overflowing tonight with excitement.

“What’s going on?” Rachel placed her hand over her friend Simone’s arm to catch her attention. She was standing on a wooden bench, trying to peer over the others to see what all the commotion was about.

“Get up here, you have to see this!” Simone pulled Rachel next to her. Over the tops of the crowd, Rachel noticed a group of young men just as they walked into the center of the room. Behind them, they each dragged a buck that had been shot clean through the forehead.

Now she understood.

It had been months since their scavengers had caught an actual animal. She could feel her mouth salivating at the thought of eating warm, succulent, animal flesh.

One of the younger men gestured to the dead animals with excitement. Rachel thought his name was Jose. “We caught them down by the river where it leaves the mountain.”

Through the crowd emerged the man that everyone look to for leadership—Ramos. His overly muscular build made it difficult for him to weave through the crowd but finally he reached the Hernandez brother’s and clapped the eldest one on the back.

“Good job, Hector. You don’t know the magnitude of what you’ve done for our people tonight.”

Hector tipped his chin at Ramos and then his attention shifted to a little girl who’d reached him in a few skips. She was harping something at him as she tugged on his pant leg until he finally consented by scooping her up onto his shoulders.

Ramos turned to look at his people, his face beaming. “Tonight we feast!” He bellowed. “But first, be sure to thank these young men. It is because of them that your kids get to fill their bellies tonight!”

The crowd cheered as the three young men made their way toward their mother who was standing at the edge of the crowd, a proud smile on her aged lips.

That’s when Ruth entered the room, followed by Bane and Elena’s mothers whose wailing sobs quickly drowned out the excited ramblings of the compounders.

“What’s happened?” Tearing himself from the celebration, Ramos reached Ruth in a few long strides.

“We were attacked by poachers, that’s what happened.”

Deciding she couldn’t handle hearing a re-count of what had to be one of the worst days of her life, Rachel tore herself from the previously boisterous crowd.

They’d all been reduced to somber faces and hushed whispers.

Rachel desperately needed the quiet solace of their cave.

Working her way through the massive hole in the mountain, she went past the cooking den, past the trading post and up, finally, into the quiet solitude of the scattered caves where the rooms lay.

Simone had caught up to her by the time she reached her cave and she rushed inside, haphazardly pushing away the make-shift door.

“Ray, I’m so sorry! I was so caught up with the whole deer thing- your mom just told everyone what happened. Are you okay?”

Rachel slid onto a crate in the middle of the cave and smiled tightly. “I’m alive, but-” A tight knot lodged itself in her throat. “I saw them die.” She whispered. “Elena and Carl and the baby. It was awful.”

Simone pulled a crate up next to Rachel’s and wrapped her arm around her best friend.

She was warm and smelled like vanilla which helped ease some of her nerves.

“I’m glad you made it out.” Simone stated, her big, brown eyes sincere. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Rachel was quiet for a moment before she decided that letting it all out would be for the best.

“It might help.”

“Tell me what you saw.” Simone encouraged.

“I saw three of them...the look in their eyes, Simone. They didn’t even seem human.”

“I don’t think they even are. I mean, no human could hunt others for fun like that.” Simone was thoughtful for a moment. “Do you even really think it’s the mark that turns them into that? Because sometimes I think the mark is just an excuse for evil people to do evil things and be okay with it.”

“No...” Rachel whispered. “There’s something not right with them, Simone. It’s more than a tattoo on your forehead-more than just a mark. It’s as if it makes them soulless.”

Both girls grew quiet, their breathing the only sound that filled the air.

To make things less tense, Rachel decided to ask, “So what’s up with the whole deer thing?”

Simone perked up at that. “Well, the three hunky musketeers shot them and brought them in. Now they’re being hailed as heroes or something.”

“Sounds pretty heroic to me.”

“Sure but now Ramos is grilling them about bringing up the mysterious mark maker. I left when Juan started talking about the fake marks again.”

“They’re still going on about that rumor?” Rachel wondered.

“Yes, and now they want to actually go out and meet the mystery man that supposedly does them. Sounds like a bunch of bull to me.” Simone played with her braids while she spoke.

“But what if it wasn’t--a lie, I mean? What if someone could really imitate the mark? Then at least the poachers wouldn’t kill us right on the spot.”

“Oh honey, even if they could, would you ever risk going anywhere near a poacher to find out if it worked or not? I know I don’t have the guts for that.”

“Yeah,” Rachel murmured, “I guess you’re right.”

It made no difference to her either way.

Rachel was as happy as anyone could be at the compound.

She had no need to go into the city. There was nothing there of interest to her. The only thing that would ever cause her to step foot in the city was her brother but by now surely he must have been dead or marked and she wasn’t sure which of the two was worse.

Simone must have sensed what Rachel was thinking. “I know it’s been hard for you since Jed....”

Since Jed ran off to the city.

“Since Jed left. But you can’t keep beating yourself up over it. It was not your fault.”

“I should have stopped him.”

“No, Ray, you couldn’t have. It was his choice. He still had his free will.”