PODs (23 page)

“Regulations require that residents carry their IDs with them at all times,” he said.

“Sorry, officer, we were just out for a walk. We didn’t think to grab our purses.” I tried to look contrite.

“Then I suggest you get back home. Next time you’re out, remember to bring your IDs with you. You know those pretty little strings hanging from them? Well, those are for you to put around your neck. That way you’ll never forget them.”

I wanted to use the “pretty little strings” hanging from his ID and strangle him with them.

“Thank you, officer. C’mon, Eva, let’s get home before we get in more trouble by missing curfew.”

“Yeah, yeah, just a second. Officer? What are all those lights up the road?” I pointed down the road leading out of town. I hadn’t noticed the commotion before. I was too focused on finding the clinic. But the lights had flickered on and I could see a bunch of uniformed personnel milling around.

“That’s the East checkpoint.”

“For what?” I asked.

“It monitors who is coming and going.”

“And if I wanted to go somewhere?”

“You wouldn’t. Residents aren’t permitted to leave the compound.”

Compound? I’d heard people refer to the small village as a camp before, but never a compound.

“Wait, what do you mean we aren’t permitted to leave? Since when?”

“Since the gate went up. Go home, ladies.”

“Come on, Eva. Let’s go.”

Nona and I didn’t waste time getting home. It was getting dark and we would be breaking curfew by being out after dusk. We walked so fast we were almost jogging. It took us half the time to get home as it had to get to the clinic.

“Don’t do that again, Eva.”

“Nona, I really didn’t know that was the clinic. I swear.”

“Whatever. Next time you invite me for a walk, make sure you don’t have any other motives. I don’t know what’s going on with the fences and the gates, and I don’t want to know. I want to stay in the village. So next time you want to go on a little fact-finding mission, leave me out of it.”

She walked up her driveway, her back ramrod straight, her chin in the air.

A thought occurred to me as I watched her walk away. What did she mean when she said she didn’t know what was going on with the
fences?
No one had said anything about fences.

“What do you know about the gate, George?” I asked him the next afternoon at lunch. The lunchroom was buzzing with activity. Kids and faculty talked and joked at the tables next to us. No one was paying attention, so I didn’t worry about anyone overhearing.

“How do you know about it?”

“I took a little stroll last night after work. I saw the gate just down the road from the clinic.”

“Eva, you’re gonna get in trouble. I don’t know—”

“Don’t tell me you don’t know. You’re the one person in this place who seems to know everything. And why is that?”

“I don’t know about the gates, just that the MPs are supposed to check everyone’s ID before they leave or come into the village.”

“Compound.”

“What?” He looked shocked. I couldn’t tell if it was because I wasn’t supposed to know that our quaint little village home was now a military compound, or if he was as surprised as I was.

“That’s what the MP called it last night.” I watched George’s face while I talked. “But you already knew that—right, George? What else do you know that you aren’t telling your
friend?
What about the fences?”

“Eva, you are so flippin’ stubborn. It’s gonna get you in trouble. The gates and fences are meant to keep people out.”

“But the soldier said…”

“I know what he said. I’m telling you what it really means. They are trying to keep all the topside survivors out of the village. And, yes, I know the military police are calling it a compound. That’s what it is. No one in, no one out. Well, that’s not entirely true. The ‘no one out’ part is false. People can leave.” He leaned in, lowering his voice. “The ‘no one in’ part is true. If you leave, you stay out.”

“What else?”

“The fences and gates will be guarded to make sure no one sneaks in. It’s to keep those that could possibly be carriers of the virus out of the vil—compound.”

“Why aren’t they quarantining them like the others?” I asked. “Surely they have room for one or two survivors at a time.”

“Have you seen the people out there? There have to be a hundred or more and they all want in. It’s not just one or two survivors. It’s a mob. Besides, I told you, it’s not the room in the quarantine facility. They don’t have the right equipment for full quarantine—not like we had going into the PODs. It’s all a show designed to create a sense of peaceful well-being. That way, when someone wants to get in the compound, people will want the police to keep them out.”

“And you know this how?”

“I have a friend in security. He works at the clinic sometimes. That’s the real reason they want the districts separated. They don’t want people like me telling people like you what’s going on.”

“What do you mean by
‘people like you
’?”

“People who don’t need to know. I work in medical, so I see and know things—like that the virus may not be dead. My friend in security knows about things like the fence and the new entrance and exit policy. He told me things I shouldn’t know and I’m telling you things you shouldn’t know. They’re trying to eliminate that problem by keeping us separated.”

“And you’re telling me now because?”

George let out a breath and pushed his lunch tray aside. Ketchup dripped from the side of his plate. He picked up his drink, crushing the cup when he realized it was empty.

“David.”

“
D
avid? What about him?”

“I didn’t tell you because David’s now considered an outsider. They won’t let him in, Eva. He’s been out of the villages too long.”

I shook my head. George couldn’t know that for sure. They’d have to let him in. He was a POD survivor, not someone who’d stayed topside. “They’ll let him in. Yes, they will—stop shaking your head at me, George. He’ll show them his ID and they’ll let him in. They might make him sit through two weeks of quarantine, but they’ll let him…”

My words died when I heard the small smack of plastic hit the table in front of me. I looked down and tears formed in my eyes. George was right.

“Seth had it.”

“Why would he…? Why wouldn’t he take…?” I couldn’t finish a thought. I kept staring at the ID badge George had placed in front of me. David’s face looked up at me, his eyes meeting mine.

“He probably didn’t think he’d need it again. Put it in your purse, Eva. Take it home and hide it. Or burn it. Whatever, just don’t get caught with it.”

“It has an
E
on it,” I said quietly.

“Huh? What about it?”

“David thought he’d be working in marine biology, or Earth science. But his number has an
E
at the end. He would have worked in education. We would have worked together… lived in the same district. We could’ve had a life together.”

George reached out and awkwardly brushed a tear off my cheek. “I’m sorry, Eva.”

“Yeah, well, it is what it is.” I looked up at George and tried to smile. “Um, I need to go to the restroom and splash some cold water on my face and get myself pulled together before my next class. I’ll see you at lunch tomorrow?”

“I’ll save you a seat,” he said.

I nodded and walked away. It wasn’t until later I realized I’d left David’s ID badge on the table.

Three weeks passed. George and I ate lunch together every day. It was Monday of the last week of George’s classes. He’d be working in the clinic for the next month. It would be almost impossible to see each other with the new security that was in place.

The police had installed two gates with checkpoints, one on each end of the main road leading in and out of town. The fence encircling the compound must have been twenty feet tall. Barbed wire twisted around the slanted top. I felt like I was in a prison yard every time I looked at it.

At each corner of the fence, and at both checkpoints, guards stood vigil, overlooking the survivors who camped outside the compound waiting for a chance to sneak in. Guards were also posted at different areas of the fencing, but they couldn’t watch everything.

“Here, you forgot this.” George slid something to me. He lifted his hand and I saw David’s ID badge.

“Thank you,” I sighed. I slid my hand under George’s and took the badge. “I thought I’d lost it for good.”

“Keep it someplace safe, Eva.”

“Why, what’s wrong?”

“He’ll need it,” George whispered.

“David? How am I supposed to get it to him?”

“You’ll be seeing him soon. I don’t know how or when yet, but Seth saw him hanging around the front gate with the other people camped out there. We’ll figure out a way for you two to see each other.”

David
.

“Thank you.” I put David’s ID badge in the pocket of my jeans.

“Yeah, well, if it was Tiffany on the other side of that fence I’d want to see her. I’d risk everything to see her. Will you, Eva? Will you risk everything to see David? Because that’s what you’ll be doing.”

“I’m not risking anything. There’s nothing here I want if I can’t have him.”

The week passed slowly. Every day at lunch I bit my lip so I wouldn’t scream at George. I wanted to know when and where I’d see David.

George didn’t bring up the subject again. I knew why. Everything needed to be kept as quiet as possible. He wouldn’t say anything until he knew the when and where. That didn’t help my fraying nerves, however.

On Friday—his last day of class—he slipped me a note when we hugged goodbye. I wouldn’t see him for a month.

“Whatever you do, don’t get caught,” he whispered in my ear.

That was the longest day of my life, I think. I didn’t dare look at the note until I got home. I couldn’t risk anyone seeing it.

My fingers shook so badly, I was afraid I would tear the paper. I read the small print…twice.

Tomorrow. Midnight. At the fence in the field at the end of your street
.

Tomorrow. I’d see David tomorrow. I wanted to scream, dance around the house. My stomach had butterflies the size of birds swirling around.