Exchange Rate (13 page)

For the first time since we’d been together, I didn’t tell Bodey and John my fears about staying. I didn’t want to ruin it for them. And a small part of me appreciated that I had more power than any male. Every second outside the walls, I was in danger of being raped or stolen by other men. To be inside where my choices mattered was more fulfilling than I could explain. If we could all stay together, then I would stay.

Resting my hands on the table, I chewed on the inside of my cheek.

Bodey reached out and took my hand again in his, but this time he twisted the band around my ring finger. Softly, without meeting my gaze, he asked, “Do you regret it? Us?”

Sharply pulling my eyebrows together, I curled my fingers and pulled his hands closer to me. I waited for his eyes to raise. “No. Never. And just because they don’t see us as married, I still do. John has more authority than Rowan does as far as I’m concerned.”

He nodded softly and glanced at his dad.

I didn’t know what was going to happen, so I didn’t offer my own reassurances. I didn’t know anything at that point except I loved Bodey and John and Rowan wasn’t going to take them from me.

Chapter 10

Fidgeting, I rolled the gauze back and forth between my hands. My dirt smudged fingers left dark marks on the white material. I tucked the roll into my pocket and focused my nervousness on the little brown bottle and its ivory label.

Bodey glanced sideways at me and I smiled tightly. He didn’t need to know I was freaking out for so many reasons. Too many to list.

Rowan returned to the room with his son in tow. Ethan stayed beside the door, taking up his guard stance and staring straight ahead. Rowan found his chair and removed his cowboy hat again – I couldn’t remember him even putting it back on – resting it on the table in front of him. His dark blond hair hadn’t budged with the hat going on and off.

I crossed my fingers, hoping we would get invited in, hoping my childish ploy would help. If I needed to, I would jump on a crack or whatever the superstitions were. Anything to make our circumstances get better.

“Well, I would like to offer you all a position in Freedom Pass. There’s a... social contract, if you will, we ask you agree to one-hundred-percent before crossing into the rest of the community.” He lifted his hand and ticked off on his fingers. “We already discussed the no-intercourse due to pregnancy possibilities but there’s a little more to it. We only have room for two-hundred people – this is dictated by carefully calculated science on the rations that we have, the electrical needs and other resources. This was not designed by me.”

He dropped his hand. “Freedom Pass has been around since World War II when the U.S. detained citizens in camps. After the internment camps were no longer needed, they closed them. The late nineteen-nineties led to a reboot where the government gutted out the concentration camps and stocked them for the next World War.” Rowan opened his hands, palms up. I’d never heard of the government detaining people. Who would they keep in camps and why? Rowan continued. “We saw World War III come and go in a matter of months. These camps are being used all over the nation – well, what’s left after the bombings and the fighting. Leadership has changed hands, but overall, things have remained the way they were designed to be.”

I sighed in disbelief. Of course a place like this would be created by the government, what else had they hidden? Many citizens had lost faith in the officials because they were more corrupt than gangs and common thieves.

“We keep the population tightly controlled at two-hundred and everyone has a specific job or task which contributes to the community as a whole. We like to think of it as the community before the person. Each person is provided with food, housing, material goods, clothing, and even protection. All we ask is that some simple rules are followed.” He searched each of our faces to see if we followed along.

“Work in the area you’re assigned. Follow orders and respect the hierarchy of the community. We’re not old enough or established enough to be a democracy. So the leader has final say in what happens or doesn’t happen. Once you’re accepted and you take on the conditions, you can’t leave. This is because we all depend on each other to accomplish our tasks. If someone leaves, it harms the group.” He smiled, his logic simple and easy to swallow.

“Sounds like communism.” John twisted the head of a ratchet, the clicks slow, while watching Rowan explain the social construct.

Rowan narrowed his eyes. Leaning back, he lifted a finger to his lips. After a long drawn out moment, he nodded slowly. “Okay, yes, I can see that. If you have to put a label on it, I would say that’s the closest. Except I would suggest we use the definition of the original Marxist theory and not the one that became the norm after the eighties. Contemporary communism doesn’t care if you contribute or not. Here at Freedom Pass, if you don’t contribute, you don’t have worth. We all work. If we don’t need you, then you don’t stay. It’s simple.”

Simple and effective and with what they offered in exchange, I could see people dying to keep their spots in the very selective community.

“I would like to offer you each a position here. We are making adjustments to have you fit in and your cabin will be ready shortly. There’s a holding room over there. Make yourselves at home until Ethan retrieves you.” He smiled and stood, nodding as he replaced his hat. “Please, remember what we talked about, Kelly.”

Things had gone from okay to so much better than possible. I could even overlook the veiled threat in his final words.

For a little while anyway.

John cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Rowan?”

Stopping beside the door, Rowan turned, his hat in his hand. “Yes?”

“We had some friends come this way, a man and a woman – Mike and Mary Scoggins. Did they make it? In the last couple days?” John watched Rowan without turning. I’d forgotten about the Scoggins.

Rowan shook his head, placing his hat and tucking it neatly upon his brow. “No one new for about three weeks, now. Sorry.”

After all their sacrifice, the Scoggins hadn’t made it.

What did that say about us?

Chapter 11

The bunkers resembled large gopher mounds from the outside with a door-well in the south facing side. On the inside, they were outfitted like an older style house including simple wood furniture, small energy efficient appliances, three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, a family room, and a TV room.

With a TV.

Which worked.

True, the programming wasn’t new, but according to Ethan who showed us around the house, we could borrow whatever DVDs we wanted from the library. DVDs. Seriously?

Apparently there was a community library.

Had I died? How had I been sleeping in the woods that morning and now stepping into a house with running water this afternoon?

“You can shower, but water isn’t hot. We save the water heaters for sanitation in the medic clinic and in the dining area. But the water isn’t extremely cold anyway. You’ll want ice in your drinks to make them colder.” Ethan’s charm didn’t erase the creeping sensation his winking at me had created.

But he’d mentioned a shower. A phenomenon I hadn’t experienced in longer than I could remember. I could forgive him his first impression, but I wouldn’t forget it.

I opened the fridge door, a habit I’d picked up when we started checking houses. The lights never worked and they were either near-empty or filled with spoiled goods.

Not this one.

A small bulb displayed juice, milk, and pudding which had been organized neatly on the clean glass shelving.

“There’s food in here. Is it ours?” I didn’t want to break any rules left unspoken and eat something I wasn’t supposed to.

Ethan moved forward from his position by the door and peeked in the fridge. “Of course. You don’t have a lot of food items because all the food is rationed. We store it just off the kitchen area. You can eat in the cafeteria or have your food delivered here for each meal. People do both, but most eat at their homes.”

Food was delivered? “How many meals? One a day?”

He leaned toward me, his eyes taking in my outfit and searching my face. “No, Boss, three.”

Three meals. Three full meals a day? And snacks? I couldn’t comprehend the idea. I huffed, “I’ll believe that when I see it.” I covered my mouth, shocked by my rude dare. “I’m sorry. I’m tired.”

Ethan’s smile disarmed me. He leaned back. “You’d be surprised how many people react that way.”

Bodey grinned, crossing his arms and resting a hip on the laminate counter. “Well, when food is the topic, I’m not shocked. It’s pretty serious.”

“Yes, it is.” I smiled at my husband, grateful he understood where my attitude came from.

Ethan cleared his throat, fixing his gaze on me like he tried getting his thoughts into my head, but failed miserably. He backed toward the door, arms held out to his side and at a slight bow. “Okay, so this is your place. Monica will be over in the morning to fit you for new clothing. We like to give bright new outfits for your placements. Did Rowan discuss your positions with you?”

John nodded, rounding the corner from inspecting the other rooms. “Yes, I’m in mechanics, Bodey will be on watch, and Kelly has medics and inventory.”

Ethan nodded. “Good. After your fitting tomorrow, you’ll head to your first shift. Bodey is on the graveyard shift for a while. Newbies always start there for a couple weeks. So you’ll start tomorrow night.” He inclined his head. “Okay, well I’ll let you get settled. Soaps and shampoos are in the cabinet under the sinks. Welcome to Freedom Pass.” He caught my gaze and held it longer than necessary.

I was the first to break the connection. Yeah, creepy.

Gratitude held my tongue – that’s all. He didn’t have the right to be interested in me, or act like he was. I’d declared myself married and my intentions to Rowan in front of Ethan. Just because Rowan didn’t approve or whatever that was, didn’t mean my loyalty would shift. I had a ring on. I hadn’t taken the ring off since Bodey and I had promised to be together. Had our world changed so much symbols of marriage no longer mattered?

Ethan stepped out the front door.

I turned to Bodey and John. A sinking ache in my chest didn’t make sense. I was delighted to be inside the compound, safe in a home with a roof and a bed and a floor without dirt. I swallowed, my throat constricting. “Is this our home now?” Why did I want to cry?

John continued glancing around, like looking for flaws in the foundation or in the furniture. “I think so. Should we get settled and get some showers in?”

Shower? A shower? I bent toward Bodey and squeezed his arm. “A shower? Oh, I’m so excited.” I shoved my claustrophobic sensation to the side. I hadn’t had a shower or felt really clean in so long. Cold water or not, I didn’t care. Water was water and he’d even mentioned soap and shampoo.

My breath caught again, but for an entirely different reason.

Bodey beamed at my enthusiasm. “Me too.” He reached out and stopped John from leaving the living area. “Hey, Dad. I still consider us married, is that okay?”

John’s thoughtful countenance changed, and he stepped toward Bodey to wrap his arms around his son’s chest in a huge bear hug. “Bodey, you two are married. Rowan doesn’t get to decide who we love or when.” He rolled his eyes and patted Bodey’s shoulder. “Okay, I’m going to take a shower, eat something, and then crash. I’m exhausted.”

We grabbed our bags and split apart into our own rooms. Well, John went into his own room and Bodey and I claimed a room with a connecting bathroom, comforted by John’s words and the stability in our feelings for each other. We left our doors open to continue talking. I called out to John, “Why do you think they give us bright clothing?”

“I would think it’s easier to keep track of people. Maybe in case someone gets lost in the woods? I’m not sure. I’m excited for brand new clothes that fit.” Muffled, his voice carried but not through the walls.

“That makes sense.” Bodey nodded, pulling his shirt off over his head. He threw the dark top into the corner of the room, his muscles flexing as he moved. He turned on me, growling low in his throat. I shrieked softly, running from him around the room like we didn’t have any responsibilities.

And we kind of didn’t. We didn’t have to find our next meal and we didn’t have to be on watch for the first night in who knows how long.

Bodey caught me and threw me playfully to the bed, tickling my sides. I pushed at him. “Gross. We need to shower. I don’t want to make this bed dirty when we don’t have to.”

He wiggled his eyebrows at me but stood, pulling me to stand beside him. He leaned down and whispered, “I’m not dirty.”

I slapped at his shoulder, giggling. Rowan’s approval or not, we were going to enjoy our “honeymoon”. Until I had a period, I wasn’t going to worry about being pregnant or any of the other stuff.

What was he going to do, if I ended up pregnant? Kill me?

Finding towels in a small cabinet off to the side of the bathroom door, I handed Bodey one and ducked inside the tiny room.

Free water. Free soap. Free housing.

But nothing came for free. What had we traded for the benefits?

The only thing we could do was wait and see.

~~~

M
y stomach ached. I wanted to go climb back in bed and go to sleep. I hadn’t eaten so much in a long time. My sides wanted to burst open.

The chicken we’d smelled when entering the compound had been delivered with mashed potatoes, gravy, corn, and biscuits. Heaping bowls of them. The woman had warned us that normal meals were rationed according to serving size, but on our first meal, we got extra in celebration.

I hadn’t replied, except to murmur my gratitude.

We claimed seats at the table, our first time with a hot meal at a home-style setting... safe.

My first bite of crispy, greasy chicken thigh made me moan. Bodey and John closed their eyes. We ate in silence, slowly at first, then faster and faster until the tastes blended together and the act was more about filling up then enjoying the meal.

At breakfast the next morning, I didn’t want to eat anything, but we received our rations and I wasn’t going to turn down eggs, pancakes, and slices of ham. I just wasn’t.