Authors: Mya Robarts
The v Girl (31 page)
The twenty-three year old group
steps up the stage as a monstrous-looking captain reads their names from a list. Since most of them have marriage tattoos it’s obvious that the seven eligible kids from that group will get recruited. All these recruits will be assigned to the
L
category.
Landry calls the first candidate from that group. “Ingrid Philomena Wisniewska.”
A blinding beam of light follows Farrah as she shakily approaches Landry.
Landry shouts, “You will join the Patriot army as an
L
class recruit.” Ingrid’s face remains inexpressive but I swear her legs are trembling.
The seven new recruits are flanked by the soldiers and descend the stage to form a line in the back. The non-recruits occupy seats in the section of the rows that was left empty.
Mathew is part of the twenty-two year old group, but he skips recruitment because he has a marriage tattoo. In his group there are fifteen eligible people. One boy, fourteen girls.
“It’s the witches’ call,” murmurs Holly Winston, who stands by my side.
The witches touch the arms of the fifteen. Two girls are declared non-virgins and Landry spares them from recruitment. The new thirteen recruits join the enlisters backstage and it seems like they’re fighting tears. Looking vulnerable isn’t a smart idea in the army.
The twenty-one year old group steps up. Rey is spared immediately because his religious tattoo is evident under his near translucent tight-fitting shirt. In this group only thirty people are eligible. The witches touch the arms of all the kids. None of the boys in that group are declared to be a virgin so they’re safe. When the girls are particularly attractive, the witches skip their virginity “test.” The troops will take the most attractive girls no matter what their V-status is.
Landry’s eyes go back and forth between the candidates and the troops. There’s a sort of silent communication among the soldiers that reaches the stage and indicates their preference to Landry.
From that group, they recruit thirteen scared-looking V-girls.
The twenty year-old group comes; eighty-two people. Elena Rivers’ magnetic Asian features and curvaceous body have caught the attention of the troops. Reluctantly, Landry spares her because her tattoo indicates she’s about to get Patriot citizenship. The V-status of thirteen girls earns them a spot among recruits.
I shuffle uncomfortably. It’s almost my turn.
The nineteen years old group is the most crowded. Ninety-eight potential recruits. Most of the girls are what the troops call
Starville beauties:
generous bosoms in an otherwise ultra-slim figure. Not to mention their blond hair and slender legs.
The witches find three boys to be virgins and they recruit them along with ten V-girls.
“Eighteen years old group! Step up!” booms the voice of the female general.
I swallow hard as my stomach drops to the floor. We climb up the stage and make a line.
The lights hurt my eyes and blind me partially. Everything beyond the stage is dark. The soldiers must be looking at all of us from their spots below, but I can’t shake the feeling that all eyes are on me. The crowd is hidden in the dark but I’m aware of their presence. They’re whispering, they’re shuffling in their seats, they scratch their heads.
Fourteen eligible candidates. Only one of us will be spared. They’ve already recruited non-virgin kids, so no one is safe. I try to straighten my stance and look confident, although my skin has broken out in goosebumps. It’s surreal to be here. The moment I’ve dreaded all along.
I’m looking at Luke, who has just been spared, when Landry calls my name.
“Lila Velez Tcherkassky.”
I step forward and the beam of light falls heavily all over my body. It should feel warm but I’m shivering. I make my best to raise my head up and look strong.
One of the witches, a monumental green-haired woman wearing a Sergeant tattoo on her grey-colored face is looking at me questioningly. “Are you a V-girl?”
I find strange that she avoids using the word
virgin
. “No, I’m not,” I answer firmly. Distant sneering reaches my ears. Apparently, Starvillers don’t believe me.
The beam of light points at my body. She touches my arms and is convinced I’m being truthful. The contact burns my skin. I drop my eyes so they can’t see the hate and fear brewing inside me.
I’m staring intently at my feet when a familiar voice makes me look up.
“I’m not a V-girl,” answers Holly. I look at her in confusion. I thought Holly was keeping herself for a future husband.
I observe her carefully and bite my lip to suppress a gasp.
The woman in front of the witch is not Holly. Cara Winston is
trying to make herself pass as her daughter. She’s thirty-five, but training has given her a youthful-looking body.
Holly and Cara share Starvillian beauty features that make them look like twins. Some Starvillian mothers would take the place of their daughters if they could but that’s not allowed
. Cara’s love for her daughter made her find a way.
Landry leers at Cara and exchanges looks with the troops below them. He speaks loudly. “Holly Marie Winston. You’ll join the Patriot Army as an
L
grade recruit.”
I don’t have time to worry about Cara. Twelve out of the fourteen eligible people in my group have been recruited and they seem to be holding their decision on the last candidate who is being tested with polygraph. “Duque Charles Diaz Jurado. Are you a V-man?”
Duque holds his stoma up. “I’m not sure.” At the sight of the waste inside the stoma the witches, who had been eyeing Duque greedily, wrinkle their noses.
His doom could mean my freedom until next year. I still hate the traitor who tried to abuse Azzy, but I find myself wishing things were different. I wish the soldiers would spare us both.
I’m holding my breath and my muscles feel like jelly.
Long moments pass and the troops can’t decide who they prefer. The lights over my body, instead of warming me up, are turning my body into ice. Everybody has their eyes on Duque and me. I’m sure people notice that I’m shivering all over. I ignore them and keep looking around. Am I waiting a miracle to happen? For an angel to fall from the sky to stop the ceremony, send the soldiers to hell, and liberate the victims? Am I waiting for Aleksey to appear?
Duque’s voice surprises us all. “I pledge my alliance to the army of the Patriot States of America.”
A collective gasp echoes around the gym. I turn to look at Rey. He looks as shocked as everybody else. The troop explodes in murmurs. Is this allowed? This is an unprecedented act in a recruitment ceremony.
Landry frowns and projects a hologram of the protocol sections with his j-device.
He seems to be searching for anything against enlisting in cases like this.
I close my eyes, not daring to feel hope.
Please allow it. Please recruit him.
Landry looks at me and for a moment I’m afraid he’s about to recruit me.
After minutes of consultation with the troops, Landry makes his decision.
“Duque Charles Diaz Jurado. You’ll join the Patriot forces as a recruit. Your rank will be recruit grade
L
, like all the others.
As much as I despise Duque, as much as I don’t want to be recruited, I feel for Rey. I don’t see how Duque will survive the cruel life of a Vassal when he hasn’t recovered yet from the injuries of his rape.
Before taking his place among the other recruits, Duque leans in to whisper in my ear. “Does this redeem part of my offense?” He doesn’t wait for my answer. He strides confidently towards backstage, holding his stoma up. I didn’t have an answer to his question. Did he volunteer because what he almost did? Or is this another suicide attempt for him?
The troops allow all of us non-recruits to descend the stage and take a seat in the front rows. In theory, we’ve just been spared from a life as sexual slaves. I’m faking calm while I’m a mess inside. They won’t take me as a recruit. But the danger isn’t over yet. Now comes the worst.
A chubby Accord cop steps forward and addresses the camera: “I certify that everything was made according to the constitution of the Patriot States of America.”
Teams of troops around me break their formations and their eyes can’t hide their excitement.
“Turn down your cameras,” orders Landry.
Up until this point the crowd has responded with a muffled noise. Now, the audience gets eerily silent. Because everyone knows what will happen next.
A group of soldiers place a dozen of recruits on the bench stones. Other soldiers keep the recruits’ arms immobilized. The monsters have taken off the part of their armor that covers their pelvises. The light falls on the twelve or so bench stones that will hold the horror of the recruitment ceremony.
The multiple sexual assaults begin.
My mind is fighting to not succumb
to unconsciousness. My muscles are tense and I’m breathing heavily. For a few seconds, I find myself impeded when I try to look away. Just like that time when I lost my mom, I’m unable to close my eyes.
I want to scream to ask them to stop. Nobody dares to talk, to move, or to cringe. We don’t want to draw attention to our faces contorting in disgust, in impotence. That could only get us raped.
When I finally look away, I can’t find a place to lay my eyes in which I don’t meet the gruesome sight of trios of soldiers attacking recruits. I can’t cover my ears either. The recruits’ ear piercing screams make me realize they didn’t take any pills and feel the full force of the attacks. I can smell the blood thick in my lungs.
I fight to keep my head up as my mind reels with desperate thoughts.
Don’t hurt them. It must hurt so much. Stop.
Above the diabolic symphony of screams, the voice of a soldier reaches me. “My turn.”
Immediately, a soldier who was all over a recruit props himself on his elbows and relinquishes his position.
Some of the attackers look so young in spite of their sizes that they remind me of my mother’s assailants. They are enjoying themselves, laughing maniacally. I catch sight of some of the soldiers who don’t look comfortable with this show. If they don’t like it, why don’t they stop it? By not speaking up, they’re just as responsible as the others.
In a moment of infinite terror, a soldier approaches me and it feels as though he’s going to drag me to a stone. But then he focus his attention on someone else.
At that moment, a loud wail that overpowers the screams of the recruits startles me.
A familiar voice is screaming in rage and disbelief and we turn our heads. A soldier is dragging Elena to one of the stones by her long hair. “No! Luke!
Heeelp
!” Elena insults the soldiers using every possible swear word there is. “Take your dirty hands off of me, you assholes!”
The troops laugh as a soldier throws her to the floor. Three other soldiers roughly lift her to place her body on the stone.
While a soldier grabs Elena’s body by her arms, two more grab her by her ankles and spread her legs.
“Get your hands off of her!” shouts Luke Rivers, making his way to the court. What’s he doing? He’s going to get himself raped and killed and they will attack Elena anyway.
In response, two soldiers drag him to a stone. A soldier punches him repeatedly and forces him to lay flat on his stomach.
Abruptly, the doors of the gym open widely. The light of the sun doesn’t let us make out the appearance of the new arrival.
All that we know is that a red-caped figure stands in the threshold.
My chin drops to the
floor when I recognize him.
The lanky cop scans the scene and his eyes narrow. I can sense Tristan’s desperation to do something, but what can just a single decent cop do against hundreds of soldiers?
He strides confidently into the gym. “I’m Colonel Tristan Froh from the twenty-fifth Accord Unit. According to the protocol, the ceremony should have ended twenty minutes ago.”
How is he here? I remember seeing pictures of Aleksey and his Unit boarding a military hovercraft. I look around. If Tristan is here perhaps Aleksey is, too? Then it hits me. Tristan never appeared in those pictures. He never boarded the hovercraft.
The soldiers whose attention is not engaged on abusing a recruit, look at Tristan scornfully. They seem to find this interruption funny. Sergeant Landry hasn’t even bothered to spare a look at the new arrival.
Tristan’s eyes rest on the Accord Unit. He won’t gain support there.
Tristan walks down directly towards the soldiers who are about to rape Elena and Luke. I shuffle on my seat nervously. It seems like he’s trying to look more confident than he really feels when he makes the guy grabbing Elena’s arm release her.
“Section seventeen of the thirty-first amendment: Civilians in the process of acquiring Patriot citizenship are not eligible for recruitment. Let these two people go.”
The soldiers burst into a fit of cold, demonic laughter. Looking at the disgusting debauchery around us, Tristan’s statement sounds naïve.
To my surprise they let go of the siblings. “As you wish, Colonel.”
Luke and Elena dash for the seats where the Rivers family and servants welcome them with open arms. I look at her. Tears fill her eyes. Her mouth is wide open. Her face is contorted in terror as if screaming, but no sound comes from it. Luke pulls her into his arms and cradles her.
Rocco approaches Tristan and states loudly. “The twenty-fifth Accord Unit was banished from Patriot Territory. Return to your country.”
The soldiers find this information interesting.
“So the cop is an illegal immigrant?”
Tristan moves his earring-device, and a hologram of an official looking document appears in front of the soldier. “I have a written permission from Maximillian Kei to stay in the country to—”
Abruptly, one of the soldiers grabs Tristan from behind and forcefully tears his earring device, breaking Tristan’s skin. The cop’s scream of pain makes even the guys raping girls on the stones turn their heads.
The soldiers destroy Tristan’s jewelry-device. “We haven’t seen any document,” claims Landry in a sarcastic tone. Tristan ear bleeds profusely.
I put my hand in my mouth to suppress a cry of horror when they shove Tristan against a stone. I’ve never seen them rape cops. The cops are protected by the UNNO. These soldiers are making a statement:
Nobody, not even the UNNO, can interfere with us.
My mind has reached its limit and shuts down to a numb state. My eyes are open, but I only see darkness. A small part of my brain registers Tristan’s screams but the rest is a high-pitched sound. I feel nothing. I’m lost in a fantasy. I’m replacing reality by a delusion, like Olmo does.
In my imaginary world, Olmo is cured. I attend University. Aleksey picks me up after school every day to ride in his jeep. Everyone I care about is safe and sound.
By the time I come back from my delusion, Tristan’s pleas have long stopped. He’s drenched in his own blood and remains inert. I can’t wrap my head on the injustice of it. He’s the only Accord cop brave enough to oppose the soldiers and his bravery has been punished. My face reddens, my fists clench, and I welcome the fury that replaces the fear.
Tristan’s sacrifice is the end of the ceremony. Landry mobilizes the troops and the recruits and they march their way through the doors. The attackers carry their unconscious victims while Tristan’s body is carried away by the Accord Unit. I used to doubt Tristan would do the right thing during the ceremony and now the memory of my distrust slaps me.
Please survive this, Tristan.
Rocco and the local soldiers order us to stay in the gym until the 03631 battalion has left the building.
I watch the contingent become smaller as soldiers leave the gym. The sound of helicopters departing is already all over town.
I suppress a fit of hysterics. I’m momentarily free of recruitment but at a high cost. Tristan. All those recruits and enlisters. I avoid looking at the Diazes and the families of all the recruits. I avoid thinking about Tristan. I want to indulge in the relief that I left recruitment behind.
Until I face a rape threat again.
* * *
“It won’t work,” says Divine as she dismounts Joey’s naked body and collapses on the grass.
The sun scorches the glade, but I find myself shivering. I get up and smooth my dress before putting on my cloak. As of late, the couple’s inability to reach orgasms has ruined their mood for exhibitionist sex.
They hold on to each other as though that could solve the problems of the world. The events of the past few days have thrown all the Comanches into different levels of depression. That has affected the couple’s sexual life. Luckily, the new additions to our ranks, Azzy and Elena, have added spunk to our decaying numbers. But Azzy and I will soon leave TCR. She’ll go with Olmo and Dad to New Norfolk and I’ll move to Shiloh.
We’ve been hacking Patriot sites, searching for information on Duque, Cara, and Tristan’s whereabouts … or evidence of their deaths. Although the Comanches barely know Tristan, his attack has struck a chord, not only in Starville, but all over the world. Patriots took things too far and this time there’ll be repercussions.
Later, since Joey’s leg is still recovering, Divine and I become human crutches as we make our way to town.
We’re passing a clutch of trees when I see Rey perched on a branch, holding our old gadget.
Divine and Joey are unfazed, but I blush. My voyeurism isn’t something I’d share with him. “How long have you been there?”
Rey jumps to the ground in a graceful movement. “A while.”
“Did you know that I— that we—”
He shrugs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about; I came here to try to hack the wireless. I haven’t lost hope that all the international pressure will make them liberate the recruits.”
I bite my lip. I don’t want to remind him that Maximillian Kei won’t interfere with the troop’s right to recruitment. Although he has publically condemned the attack on Tristan, Kei would rather face international scorn
than risking losing the troops’ support. The attackers and Landry are in prison waiting for a trial. But the other rapists won’t ever face charges. The law says that they can take recruits in any way they want. That means Duque and Cara won’t ever come back. I wish Rey could accept that.
Rey needs me now more than ever. I hold his hand and smile at him reassuringly. Soon Divine and Joey walk their own way through Genesis Street, as though trying to give us privacy we don’t need.
On the eve of recruitment, Rey agreed to be just my friend. But I can tell by his glances every now and then that he can’t forget what happened. Lines are getting blurred between us, but who cares? I won’t live in Starville much longer.
We turn on the highly-transited Judges Street and have a hard time advancing our way through the crowd when I stop dead in my tracks.
My mind must be playing tricks on me. I haven’t forgotten the massive span of his shoulders or that regal set of his face. As my thoughts spin in my head, I fixate on one constant.
Aleksey Fürst is here.