Walking Ghost Phase (8 page)

Why
'd you come? What did you have to lose if you ran?

Sometime
later Vasquez grumbled awake. He checked his watch and stood, puffing his chest outward in what Emily assumed was perfect military posture. “All right, soldiers, nap time is over.”

Emily bumped Sarah, who shook her head and
watched the passing road with wide eyes. She wiped her mouth and smiled.

“
Listen up because I'm only going to say this once,” Vasquez continued. “We arrive in ten minutes. After you leave my glorious presence, you'll head to your designated area. Those are set up based on the first letter of your last name. The check-in officers will assign you a room number and give you a duffle bag. Take the bag to your room, change into the gear we have so graciously provided and report to the barber ASAP.”

Emily and Sarah stared at each other, their eyes w
ide circles. “Barber?” they asked in unison.

Vasquez leaned forward
“That's right, princesses.” He stroked his fingers along the side of Sarah's temple. “They'll make you high and tight. I'm going to request a lock of yours so I'll never forget this moment.”

The blood drained from Emily
's face, and Raven's complexion lost all memory of the sun.

“
Any more questions, princesses?”

When Sarah shook her head, Emily
's stomach eased.

“
Good.” Vasquez sauntered toward the rear and stopped in front of Raven. “After you leave the barber, report to the mess hall for chow.” He tugged on the strap of her dress and let it recoil and smack her shoulder. “And I'm sorry to say, rich girl, they don't serve caviar or wine.”

Sarah
's cheeks filled with air, and she slapped her hand over her mouth.

“
Don't do it,” Emily whispered.

But the short chuckle burst through Sarah
's lips.

Vasquez whipped around and stabbed his finger in the air toward Sarah
's feet. “Twenty, now.”

Sarah
gazed at Emily, her expression confused, as if she waited for the translation of some foreign language. “What?”

“
Now you owe me thirty pushups.”

She spun
and stared at his silver belt buckle, which was now an inch or so from her face. “I can't do thirty p—”

“
Make it fifty, and one more word, you'll do them with my boot up your ass.”

For a moment Sarah was silent while Vasquez tapped his boot against the wooden floor. When no one delivered the punch line Sarah seemed to expect, she sighed, slid off the bench and rolled on
to her chest.

“
Count off, soldier.”

K
nees against the floorboards, she lifted her body. “One.”

Vasquez kicked his boot into her ankle. Sarah screamed, and her chest smacked the floorboards.
“This isn't gym class, soldier. You females want gender equality? You want to show you belong outside the kitchen? Here's your chance to prove it. Knees in the air.”

Sarah straightened her legs, digging the tip of her shoes in the wood, and she pushed. The first ten pushups seemed to pass with ease. Then eleven came
, and her arms trembled. “Twelve.” Tears dripped below her face. “Thir—” A spasm rolled through Sarah's shoulder, and in mid-lift her elbows shot out from her body. Her left cheek and chest planted against the floorboards.

“
Thirteen? Thirteen pushups? That's it? You have to be shitting me.” He leaned over, grabbed a wad of her shirt and lifted her off the floor. “Only thirty-seven more, princess, and I can wait here all day.”

Sarah pushed harder. Below her chin, a puddle of tears rolled into a crack between the rotting wood.

“Come on, princess.”

A knot climbed in Emily
's chest as saliva sprayed though Sarah's clenched teeth.

“
I—I—,” Sarah mumbled. “—can't.”

Vasquez slapped the small of her back.
“All day, princess.” He slapped her again, harder.

Sarah whimpered.
“P—please.”

He slapped her a third time.
“Corporal Douglas, order the driver to pull over.”

Without thinking, Emily jumped
in the crevice between Sarah and Vasquez, shielding the girl from additional punishment. “Stop. She can't do any more.” The silence after, seconds at most, screamed at her.
What the hell did you just do?
She looked at Vasquez's boots, his silver belt buckle and gun, the name patch on his chest and then his face. His delighted smile showed off the pink of his gums. For the first time in three months, Emily wanted to forget something.

“
Well, well, well. You have some nerve. I'll give you that.” He grabbed Sarah and shoved her to the bench. “I guess it's your lucky day,” he said to her. He turned to Emily. “You just volunteered to finish her pushups. On your chest, soldier.”

Emily closed her eyes and rolled over. Her breaths had already grown rapid.
I can do this
. Five pushups later.
You won't get to me.
She was now past ten.
No—
Her chest constricted, shoulders burned. “Twelve.” She pushed again as the sting radiated up her elbows. “Th-thirteen.” Sweat trickled down her forehead, into her eyes and blurred her vision. A glistening tear splashed below her face. She pushed harder, seeming to fight against an immovable object. At the apex of the fourteenth pushup, her arms folded under her body and lips planted in the puddle of tears. The seconds of rest sent a euphoric tingle up her spine.

Then a stiff blow cracked
at her ribs, knocking the wind out of her. She couldn't even scream. “Only twenty-four more.” He knelt beside her; his warm breath coursed over her ear. “Do you think you did her a favor? That mouth is going to be her downfall, and I was trying to help her understand. But you had to get involved, didn't you? Here's your lesson. You don't have friends here. You're on your own.” Vasquez shoved his palm, with the weight of his body behind it, against the small of Emily's back. She bit into her tongue. “Now get off the floor.”

“
I'll finish them for her,” someone said.

The weight released from Emily
's back, and her chin shot forward, scraping the wood. Matt was walking toward her. “Thank you,” she whispered. Vasquez lowered his boot on her head and shoved her face into the floorboards. A flash of light streaked across her eyes.

“
Are you trying to be a hero, soldier?” Vasquez asked.

“
No, sir,” Matt said.

“
Why would you want to help this piece of trash?”

“
Sir, I haven't slept in three days. I also didn't eat this morning. Let me do the pushups so we can get to base. I'm sure you have better things to do than sit on the side of the road all day.”

Vasquez paused and then glanced at Emily.
“On the bench.”

“
Yes, sir,” she said, more than happy to fulfill his request.

“
You know what, soldier?” Vasquez said to Matt. “I'm not going to make you finish her pushups. You won me a bit of money. It's the least I can do.” He turned to Douglas and laughed. “I think this one might become a General someday.”

Douglas smirked
as if he knew what was coming next.

Vasquez
spun and sent his fist into Matt's stomach. A gasping hiss and then short-winded groan came from Matt's mouth. “Now sit down and keep your mouth shut.” Vasquez looked around. “That goes for everyone. If I so much as hear a breath these last few miles, you'll all kiss the floor until tomorrow morning.” For the next ten minutes, Emily could swear she heard Sarah's heartbeat.

Soon
the transport slowed to a miserable crawl and joined the rear of a mile-long convoy. When the truck entered the base gates, the three girls leaned forward and stared at the landscape. Razor wire fences stretched around the miles of Kentucky blue grass. Every fifty feet or so, a guard tower loomed, manned by a single, rifle-wielding soldier. The name of the asylum passed in the form of raised black lettering on a granite sign—
Greaver Advanced Infantry Training.
Prison probably appeared just as welcoming to new inmates. Then Emily saw the heart of her new home.
Or more welcoming…

The walls of the structure seemed to bleed darkness. It stretched almost a half mile in width and an unknown distance back. Zigzagging stars-and-stripes banners hung from the roof ledge of the monstrosity. The few windows, tinted jet-black, cast a perfect reflection of the chest-to-back line of young men and women who waited to enter a set of double doors that swallowed persons into the void.

Vasquez rushed to the rear and slapped the tarp. “A through M. Heath, Holcomb, McDonald, that's you. Move it.”

Raven, who was closest to the rear, exited first, each of her careful baby-steps slower than the last.

“Move it, rich girl. No one here gives a damn about your dress.”

Emily made her way to the exit
next, already looking for something to hold for her climb down to the road. “Take your time, why don't you,” Vasquez said, and slapped her back. She stumbled forward, her arms flailing, reaching for anything to grab, but before she could, her shoe found an abrupt stop against Vasquez's boot. She sailed out of the truck with only pavement before her. Then a strange arm dug into her stomach, and the cracked cement retreated. When she managed to get upright and spin around, she met Matt's eyes and saw a brief glimpse of a subtle smile.

“
Get off my transport,” Vasquez shouted.

After Emily climbed down, she waited in the driveway for Matt. The transport then pulled ahead, taking Vasquez out of her life. Forever, she hoped.

“He could have killed you,” Raven said. “And would he have cared?”

Emily stood in front of Matt, trembling.
“Thank you.”

“
No problem.”

No problem?
She thought.
That's all I'm going to get? Wait. Why would I expect more? Why do I feel like I should expect more?

“
You okay?” he asked.

“
I'm fine.” She took a deep breath and surveyed the sidewalk crowd. “Where to?”

“
The end of the line.”

“
Easier said than done,” Raven said.

There
on the sidewalk, the three-deep line hugged the wall for half a mile or so until it vanished behind the corner. Standing near Emily, a petite, red-haired girl eyed a sliver of daylight between four polo-shirt-wearing preppy boys and a group of girls in their summer dresses and fake tans. She seemed to be gauging the best time to sneak in line, when an obese guy, clad in black leather and with tattoos covering his arms and neck, snarled as if he dared her to try. The outcast girl sighed and headed along the sidewalk.

As Emily made her own way to the end of the line, more cliques welcomed new arrivals into their fold, but those who couldn
't find a group—the plain and unremarkable—tried to disappear in the crowd or behind the noise of a hundred mounted fans, which seemed pointless in the autumn breeze. “Just like high school,” Emily said.

“
Yours must have been the most diverse place in the world,” Raven said. She motioned ahead to a section of the line where a group of Indian girls, who were wearing colorfully patterned ankle length dresses, chatted with one another in their native language. A few Arabs behind them fidgeted as they inched closer to the doors, while a Hispanic girl and two young Japanese men closed the newly formed gap. “I wonder if they got to go home.”

“
Do they even remember their home?” Emily asked.

Halfway down the left side of the complex, they found the end of the line. Ther
e, Matt leaned against the wall, and Raven stood beside Emily and swayed with the rhythm of a pendulum. The smell of freshly mowed grass lingered in the air, so Emily glanced at the blue sky and inhaled.

Raven looked up, too, but at the towering walls.
“Hard to believe they used to keep gold here.”

“
It's not the same building,” Matt said. He tapped his knuckle against the concrete wall.

“
I know,” Raven said. “Oddly, I kept that memory—when they showed the Senator removing the first bar on TV.”

“
Yeah,” Emily said. “He seemed like he was about to pass out.” She smirked. “Do you think I could trade that memory for one a little more important?”

“
Like the day I signed those papers?” Raven asked. “I don't remember them at all. My mom read them to me a few days after I got home, and the whole time I'm just sitting there wondering what I was thinking. I mean, my parents would have gladly paid money for the treatment. I don't want to be here. I had a plan. I wanted to go to college.”

“
You'll get the chance. That bastard on the transport said we only had to stay for six months.” Emily shrugged, unsure if she tried to convince Raven or herself. “But you're right. None of us want to be here.”