World-Mart (31 page)

“There’s someone in that one!” a young male voice cried out.

“Hello?” Shelley yelled, hitting the side of the bin.

“Lean against the wall, toward my voice!” the young man called back.

“Okay!”  Shelley leaned against the wall, tightly shutting her eyes as there was a loud click and the bin slammed to its side.  The piles of trash spilled over her and onto the ground, and Shelly quickly crawled out of the bin.  She held onto the icy ground for a moment, her head spinning.

“Are you okay?” a young man asked.

Shelly looked up, gasping as she found herself surrounded by deviants.  They all wore hard hats and carried shovels.  She saw the shovels and considered the damage they could do if the men decided to attack her, and she screamed.  She pulled herself to her feet, dizzy and shaking, grabbing her bag.  Two men tried to assist her, and she took a pathetic swing at them both with a terrified growl.  The men all quickly backed off, grumbling at her detestable manners.

She staggered back, running into a pile of trash just recently stacked, and then scrambled into the path and ran off.  The men laughed as she hurried away, their voices carrying past the mountains of trash as she quickly moved to put them behind her.  She tried to keep from crying.  Finding herself suddenly on the deviant side of town, possibly even in a neighboring district with no idea how to get home, she found herself dizzy with fear.  She shook profusely, unsure what to do or where to go.

She could not see any signs of civilization anywhere.  Knowing she could run into more deviants at any time, she stayed along the cusp of the dump, searching through the trash piles for a suitable weapon.  She hoped to find an old hammer or a steel pipe, but she decided to settle for the time being on a piece of cinder block.  She put the chunk of cement in her bag, and then swung it around a few times.  Satisfied, she continued forward with the dump to her left and nothing but overgrown, empty fields on her right.

The sun peeked through the clouds, and Shelley could feel its warmth against her cheeks despite the chill that persisted in the air.  She did her best to ignore the growl that suddenly hit her stomach.  Thirst soon compounded her hunger, and she knew that one of the two would have to be soon satiated.

She stopped to search for a clean patch of snow in the field when she heard a rustling nearby in the tall grass.  Certain that one of the young men she passed at the trash had followed her, she went vigilant and still.  She considered what terrible deeds he had planned in that sick, deviant mind of his, and knew that it was up to her to put him in his place.  She readied her bag and held her breath as the rustling drew closer.  She saw two deviant eyes emerge from the grass, and a sudden impulse drove her to swing her bag with all that she had.  The cinder block met the back of the young man’s head, and he collapsed with a surprised cry.

Shelley shook violently, knowing immediately by the amount of blood seeping onto the snow-spattered ground that she had killed him.  At a closer glance, she realized that the young deviant couldn’t have been much older than she was, and he had been completely unarmed.  Distraught and exhilarated, Shelley dragged the body back into the cover of the tall grass.  She stared at it for a moment, watching its glassy blue eyes stare aimlessly up toward the heavens.

“That’s one for Kurt,” she said, her throat growing tight.  She spat on the body, and then hurried back to the path.  She began to cry again, screaming out her frustration as she forced away the immense guilt that filled her over what she had just done.  She saw the blood on her bag, and her entire body froze.  She felt dizzy, and then she found herself on her knees.  She continued to stare at the blood for a moment, sobbing, when suddenly she realized that she was laughing.

She picked herself up and continued down the path, pulling her bag back up over her shoulder.  She looked across the field, wondering how many more deviants were hiding among the overgrowth.  She picked a random spot and entered the field, pushing aside tall grass and slushy masses of snow.  She walked aimlessly through the grass for some time, and then she came upon a small clearing that had a tiny, three-walled shack and a recently extinguished fire pit.  There was a clean pot and pan beside the fire pit, and a stash of rice and canned fruits sat just inside the shack.  There were blankets on the dusty ground, and a pile of clothing in the far corner.  A pail of clean water stood next to a plastic bin of mismatched dishes and silverware, and strips of dried meat hung from a hook on the ceiling.

Listening carefully for the sounds of others approaching, Shelly hastily searched through the plastic bin, finding a large, well-sharpened knife worth adding to her bag.  She helped herself to the dried meat as she gazed at the drab plywood walls and considered leaving her mark.

Finding her permanent marker, she went to the flimsy wall and began to write.  She came up with a simple poem off the top of her head, slowly chewing on the meat as she carefully yet quickly placed her words:

Thanks for the food,

sorry to be so rude,

but I hope you rot in hell.

Finishing a handful of meat, she signed the wall in large, fancy letters.  She drank as much water as her stomach would allow, and then moved to look through the small selection of canned fruits.

She threw three cans of peaches into her bag and pilfered the rest of the dried meat before stepping out of the shack.  She opened one of the peach cans, eating the sweet fruit with her dirty hands.  She glanced out over the field, contemplating her next move, when she spotted a small bug moving across the ground in front of her.  She squashed it with a quick stomp of her foot.

Tossing the used can to the ground, she chose a random direction and began to walk.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

VIRGINIA sat near Ray, still clad in his robe, as she watched him search his updated files for a new job to assign her.  The robe was warm enough, but she felt only half-clad wearing it.  She still waited for a layer or two of her new clothes to dry out completely, so she could put them back on. 

“Would you like to work on a field job this time?” he asked.

Virginia shrugged.  “What would I do?”

“Well, wearing that fancy coat of yours, you’d have no problem handing out free samples at Food-Mart,” Ray said, smiling at the prospect.

“Free samples of what?” Virginia asked.

“Does it matter?” Ray asked.

“People will just end up going to the hospital and disappearing,” she said, her voice flat.  “I don’t want to be responsible for anyone else going through that.”

“I can assure that won’t be happening for much longer.”

Virginia shook her head, hoping he might elaborate.  When he said nothing, she finally asked, needing to confirm her suspicion: “You’re planning a mass release?”

“We have no choice.  We have to do this now, before Corporate has enough HD-1a to do the same,” Ray said, the resolve clear in his unwavering voice.  “Our most recent intelligence suggests a Corporate strike could occur as early as by the end of the week.  We have to act before they do.”

He explained to Virginia that he had assigned other workers to seed hospital and shuttle garage air ducts, some to infect school hallways, and others to assassinate every remaining member of Corporate.  Others would work the outskirts of all the tunnels, handing HD-1-tainted cards and jewelry to anyone with non-deviant eyes.  

Virginia glanced at the computer screen, surprised at how vast and organized his operation actually was.  How one man could pull together such complicated logistics with just that little hand-held computer and a synch port was beyond her.  It seemed that he truly did have the means to succeed in pulling off the quadroplex-wide endeavor.  From what she had seen on the Corporate Internet, however, the deviant’s attempt really did need to be made either immediately or not at all.

“Are you in or out?  I need to update my computers,” Ray said, finishing up with the rest of the assignments.

“I’m in,” Virginia said, although she still was not exactly sure how dirty she wanted to get her hands.

“Are you positive?” he asked, sensing the hesitation in her voice.  “I can put you on a job that starts tomorrow.”

“Positive,” Virginia said, still trying to convince herself.  “I’m going to go check on my clothes,” she said, and then quietly walked out.

She went to the side of the tub, feeling the different articles for dampness.  She decided to wait for them to finish drying in the solitude of the quiet cave, away from Ray, his computers, and his men.  She needed to take a breather, if only for a short while, to calm her nerves and find the strength to continue.

“Hello?  Are you decent?” Mary called from the other side of the tunnel.

Virginia turned, making sure the robe fully covered her.  “Yes.”

Mary hurried in.  “Virginia?”

“Yes?”

Mary hesitated for a moment, then said, “Your husband is looking for you.  I ran into him today at the deviant market.”

Virginia felt her body go weak, and for a moment, she thought she might pass out.  Dizzy and distraught, she began to cry.  “Is he still there?”

“He said he would meet you there this evening,” Mary said.

“George is
looking
for me?” Virginia cried, still in shock over the news.

“I can take you to him,” Mary said.

“You can’t go back to your old life,” Ray said, having listened in on the women and decided it was finally time to step in.  He held a glitter-covered business card up between two fingers.  “You can, however, bring your family into the new.”  He walked up to Virginia and offered her the card.

Virginia stared at the card, afraid to touch it.

“The dust doesn’t do anything to us,” Ray said, and then shifted the card to his other hand and licked a layer of blue glitter from one of his fingers.  He held it out again, and Virginia hesitantly took it into her shaky hand.

“It’s completely safe?” Virginia asked.

“Completely.”  Ray gathered Virginia’s half-dried clothes and dropped them in her arms.  “Mary will escort you.”  He motioned to Mary, moving toward the tunnel.

Mary nodded, and then followed Ray out to his office.

Virginia quickly put on her clothes, ignoring the large wet spots.  She slipped on her boots, and then grabbed her hat and jacket on her way to the tunnel, tucking the business card in one of the pockets.  She moved quietly as she neared the cave mouth, realizing that Ray and Mary were whispering.

“I just want you to keep an eye on her for me,” Ray said.  “Make sure there aren’t any last-minute changes of heart.”

“Does that mean I’m on the clock?”

Ray chuckled lightly.  “Of course.”

Virginia quietly entered the cave, and Ray and Mary both went silent.  Virginia gave them both a strained smile, feigning ignorance of their brief exchange.  She brushed at the wet spots in her clothes, pretending to be distracted.  “I’m sorry, was I interrupting something?” she asked.

Ray smiled.  “Nothing at all.”

“Ready?” Mary asked her, smiling and taking a deep breath.

Virginia nodded.