Colony East (26 page)

The admiral furrowed his brow. “Abigail and Toby are being processed at the hospital. Their sister is on her way to Atlanta. We’re not sure that we got to her in time. She was quite sick. I’m assigning the older siblings to Biltmore Company. You can meet them once Captain Hedrick and Doctor Droznin are through with them.”

Dawson decided to double down on his luck. “Sir, when the scientists develop the antibiotic, I’d like to volunteer to help distribute the pills.”

The admiral waved him off. “Go on, meet your new cadets.”

Dawson stayed put. “I’ll do it right this time,” he blurted. “You can count on me.”

“Dismissed.”

Heat gushed up his neck and burned the tips of his ears. “If you don’t think I’m fit…” he paused, knowing he was flirting with insubordination. “Admiral, I want to. I want to complete the mission.”

The admiral stared at him for a long moment. He knew all too well how Admiral Samuels could wilt the toughest officer with his glare. This time was different. The admiral was looking through him. The old man finally lowered his eyes and shuffled some papers. “Good luck with the Leigh children, son.”

Dawson, recognizing a stonewall when he met one, saluted and left, suddenly not sure that he wanted to learn the fate of his daughter.

SEEDS OF A NEW SOCIETY

CHAPTER ONE
Colony East

With the knot in her stomach cinching tighter, Abby sat on the examination table in the emergency room. What would the adults do when they learned she had lied? She feared they would kick her, Touk, and Toby out of Colony East.

Last night, too exhausted to swim any further, Abby had climbed the ladder at the base of a windmill halfway across the river and flagged down a patrol boat. She told her story to the skipper, a woman with harsh eyes, who seemed more concerned that Abby had made it so far without detection. “You’re going back where you belong,” the skipper said in a cold tone. Then Abby remembered the name of a company leader that Monty, the gypsy kid, had mentioned; the only one she had remembered, thanks to her mom’s favorite TV show, Dawson’s Creek. Abby blurted out that she knew Lieutenant Dawson. The skipper made an urgent call on her radio; one thing had led to another, and they had brought her here to the hospital.

A doctor, who had told Abby to call her Sandy, stepped closer, holding a cotton swab in a gloved hand. Ensign Royce, who had taken Abby’s blood earlier, had referred to Sandy as “Captain Hedrick”.

Abby liked Sandy, who really seemed to care about her, unlike the patrol boat skipper who had treated her like a piece of trash that had floated too far from the Brooklyn shore.

“Open wide, please. One more test,” Sandy said, smiling.

Abby opened her mouth, and Sandy rubbed the cotton swab back and forth inside her cheek then sealed it inside a tube. “That’s all the prodding and poking for now.”

“Can I see Lizette and Toby?” Abby asked.

When Sandy lowered her eyes, a cold wave of dread washed over Abby.

“Your sister is very sick,” she said in a concerned tone. “Let the doctors do their jobs first. Okay?”

Abby bit her lip at that, reminding herself how incredibly lucky they were to make it this far, and for Toucan to receive care from the adults at all.

“How do you know Mark?” Abby’s heart skipped a beat.
Mark?
Sandy looked at her inquisitively for what felt like minutes but was probably only seconds. “Lieutenant Dawson?”

Abby couldn’t have responded to that if she’d wanted to. Her mouth was as dry as dust and fireworks of fear were exploding her mind. She gripped the edge of the table and tried to slow her breathing, worried that she might pass out. She no longer felt the individual beats of her heart; it was a steady hum inside her chest. Finally, she shrugged and looked away. Another eternity passed.

“Well, you’ll see him soon enough.”

Abby breathed a sigh of relief. It was as if they had lined her up before a firing squad and all the bullets missed. She knew, though, they would reload and once more take aim.

Sandy gave her a change of clothes and sneakers and led her to the bathroom. The sneakers were brand new and fit perfectly, and Abby cracked a smile—her first in Colony East—when she stepped into the pair of clean underwear.

She looked at herself in the mirror, wishing she could stay in the bathroom until Touk was healthy again. Trouble lurked outside the door, probably starting the minute she met with Lieutenant Mark Dawson. Why couldn’t she have shouted out the other name that Monty had mentioned to them, the friendly company leader? Monty said that Lieutenant Dawson was the strictest. Well, none of that mattered now.

She used the toilet and flushed. How long had it been since she saw a toilet that worked? The water swirling down the bowl hypnotized her. Then she turned the sink tap off and on several times, and held her hands in the hot water that poured out until she couldn’t stand it anymore. She brought her soapy hands to her nose, closed her eyes, and inhaled. The perfumed scent carried her away to a field of flowers where they were having a picnic. Just the three of them: Jordan, Touk, and Abby.

Someone rapped on the door, ripping her from that imaginary place.

“Abigail, are you okay?” It was Ensign Royce.

“I’m fine. Be right out.”

Back in the emergency room, Ensign Royce brought her a bowl of chicken soup, which she devoured, and then told her she had an appointment with a CDC scientist. He asked her to sit in a wheelchair. “I know you can walk,” he apologized, “but it’s a regulation. You'll find Colony East has lots of rules and regulations.”

While he was pushing her down the hall, she thought how Ensign Royce reminded her of a grizzly bear, a gentle, clean-shaven grizzly bear. He was tall, wide, and had enormous hands the size of paws, but despite his chubby fingers, he had drawn her blood with the delicate touch of a butterfly.

He pushed her outside the hospital where she had her first glimpse of the colony in the daylight. Working traffic lights flashed red, and caused a line of cars and trucks to form at the intersection. A group of kids with garden tools, all wearing the very same overalls she had on, walked by on the sidewalk. Every boy had a short haircut, as did all the men in the hospital. Strangely, more than anything else so far, it made her think of the colony as a prison.

Ensign Royce chirped when he wheeled her into the building next door, “End of the road. Medical Clinic 17. We walk from here.” He escorted her to an office on the second floor and left her to wait alone. She studied the plaques on the wall. Doctor Droznin had earned a PhD in Computational Biology from Princeton University. She remembered Monty had mentioned Doctor Droznin, but couldn’t remember if what he had said was good or bad. The other certificates were in a language she didn’t understand.

The only brightly colored objects in the room were a diminishing line of nesting dolls on the desk. The family of hand painted dolls included parents and three children. Abby picked up the mother.

Just then, a woman entered so Abby quickly returned the doll to the desk. The woman had rust-colored hair pulled severely back in a bun, and black-rimmed glasses. Abby could smell an odor of chemicals on her white lab coat.

“I’m Doctor Droznin,” she said in a thick accent. She stepped beside Abby and starting with the smallest doll, packed each child into the older one, the children into the mother, and the mother into the father. Doctor Droznin turned the single doll in her hand. “Look how they fit together. Yet there’s no more room. Just like at Colony East.”

Even though Abby was unsure what the doctor meant, she nodded vigorously.

Doctor Droznin took a seat at her desk and peered up. “We maintain a file on every individual at Colony East. I’m going to ask you some questions.”

Abby had a thousand questions of her own, but she decided she would speak only if spoken to. She thought the best way to postpone the inevitable, getting kicked out of Colony East, was to be polite and agreeable.

Doctor Droznin picked up a pen. “Let’s start with Lizette.”

Trying to stifle a yawn, Abby did her best to answer the first of many questions about Touk’s symptoms. She realized she had only slept a few uneasy hours over the past three days, and her exhaustion was making it difficult to understand the scientist’s accent. Abby either asked Doctor Droznin to repeat herself or made a guess at what she meant, over and over again.

Doctor Droznin flipped a page in her notebook. “Let’s talk about your parents.”

“When can I see Lizette?” Abby didn’t care how she came across.

“That won’t be possible. We transferred her to Atlanta this morning.”

Abby lurched forward. “Atlanta, Georgia? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“We’re entering her into a drug trial,” Droznin replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

A shiver passed through Abby. “Will she be okay?”

Doctor Droznin snapped her pen on the table as if the question agitated her. After a long pause, she said, “You and your siblings are quite important to us. All of you are being monitored closely.”

Taking that as good news, Abby sat back, knowing there was nothing she could do or say that would change anything for Touk.

Prompted by the doctor, Abby continued answering questions. Doctor Droznin wanted to know everything about her parents and grandparents. Professions, educational degrees, medical histories, then the causes of their deaths, “My mom and dad died the night of the purple moon,” Abby said tiredly.

Doctor Droznin scribbled away without looking up. “Ages?”

Abby suddenly worried what Toby would say, if, for some reason, Doctor Droznin asked him the same detailed questions. She told herself everything would be fine. If anyone could pull off the ruse that he was her twin brother, it was Toby. “I can’t remember,” Abby said as a precaution.

Doctor Droznin made a notation, seeming unconcerned by the response.

By the time the topic shifted to her, Abby could barely keep her eyes open. She mumbled where and when she was born, where she had lived, grades in school, and then described her childhood illnesses. During a pause in the questioning, Abby drifted to sleep and was promptly jolted awake with the doctor’s next question.

An hour later, Doctor Droznin closed her notebook. “How do you know Lieutenant Dawson?”

”I don’t remember.” Abby’s heart pounded at such a stupid response.

“I understand. You’re probably still in shock.”

She blinked in disbelief as the doctor raised a walkie-talkie to her lips. “I’m finished with one—one—oh—two.” Abby had noticed the number stitched on her sleeve: 1102. If Doctor Droznin said she was in shock, believing that was the reason she had no recollection of Lieutenant Dawson, then Abby would remain in a state of shock.

Ensign Royce wheeled her back to the hospital, where she stood in the lobby and followed him down a hallway to another room. “End of the road, again.” He rapped on the door and pushed it open.

A man, sitting in a chair next to the bed, jumped to his feet and stared at her. “Come in,” he said. Something about his nose caught her attention. It was slightly crooked beneath his eyes. He had dark wavy hair and stood ramrod straight. Feeling her knees wobble, she stared back, knowing this must be Lieutenant Dawson. “Did you grow up in Mystic, Connecticut?” he asked.

She swallowed hard and shook her head.

He stepped closer. “Have you ever been to Mystic?”

“No,” she barely whispered.

Her responses seemed to seriously disappointment him. She suddenly wondered if this might be someone other than Lieutenant Dawson.

He took another step toward her, and she could definitely tell now that his nose had once been broken. “Do you know anything about Mystic?”

Abby nodded, relieved that she finally had something to say other than no, no, no. “There’s a radio station there called The Port. DJ Silver plays songs and dedicates them to the survivors.” Seeing his eyes brighten, she quickly added. “I’ve only seen the antennae for the station as we drove by it on Route 95.”

He blinked several times. “I’m Lieutenant Dawson. How do you know me?”

Abby took a deep breath. The moment had arrived, the biggest decision of her life. It was time, she thought, to be partially truthful. Besides, they had already sent Touk to Atlanta. “I live on Castine Island. It’s off Portland, Maine. Three months ago, news gypsies visited us. One of them had lived at Colony East, and he told us about you.”

He cocked his head, confused. “News gypsies?”

“They trade news for supplies.”

“Why did you say you knew me?”

She thought it was strange the lieutenant showed no interest in who had mentioned his name. “My sister had the Pig. AHA-B. My brother, Toby, and I knew she had to see a doctor, so we brought her here. I tried to swim—”

“And Ensign Mathews was going to take you back to Brooklyn, so you mentioned my name.”

“I’m sorry I lied,” she whispered to her brand new sneakers.

The lieutenant curled his lip into a small smile, but Abby saw the same sadness in his eyes that she saw in so many survivors.

“I’m glad you told me the truth,” he said. “I value honesty above all else. How many children live on Castine Island?”

Abby’s muscles turned to mush and she almost crumpled to the floor from relief. It seemed like she had just passed a big hurdle. They weren’t going to kick her and Toby out of Colony East. At least not today.

“After the night of the purple moon,” she explained, “there were only seventeen survivors on the island. More kids moved to the island because it’s safer than the mainland. They were the lucky ones who got the pills.” He shuddered and his face turned white. Wishing she hadn’t mentioned the pills, she quickly added, “Almost two hundred kids live there now.”

“What ages are the youngest?”

Abby paused to think. “Clive is two and a half. Chloe is a month older.”

The lieutenant’s brow furrowed. “So they were babies at the time of the epidemic?”

She nodded. “Yeah, we searched the homes where we knew babies lived.”

He nodded to himself and smiled again. The change was dramatic. The way his face lit up and his eyes crinkled at the corners conveyed an overall expression of hope. Then he surprised her with a salute. “Welcome to Biltmore Company, Cadet Leigh. I’m your company leader.”