Savage Drift

^{CHAPTER SEVEN} DEAN

At daybreak a sound woke me up. It was not the kind of sound you want to wake up to: the sound of your girlfriend stifling a moan into her pillow.

I slid out of bed. My feet made the platform floor squeak.

“Cramps?” I asked her.

“Yeah,” Astrid said. “Not as bad as yesterday, though.”

The paleness of her face made me pretty sure she was lying.

“I know you don’t want to go, but I really think we should go to the clinic.”

“I know,” she said.

I leaned in and kissed her. Little tears were pooling at the corners of her eyes.

“Do you really think it’s safe to go?” she asked me. She sat up. Her hair was poking all over with its wayward curls.

“I was thinking, what if we just give them a fake name? We could say you’ve just arrived. You’re not in the system…”

“Yeah,” she said. “Maybe. But what if they recognize me from before. What if it’s the same guy?”

“You could say you prefer a woman? You’re shy?”

“That’s a good idea. Yeah.” She smiled, then grimaced. “It hurts.”

“Let’s go.”

“Dean,” she said. “Thank you. I know I’m not always as, like, girly or gushy or girlfriendy as somebody might want. But the way you take care of me, it means a lot to me. I just wanted to say that.”

That made me feel great. It wasn’t quite “I love you forever,” but I guess that was her point. She wasn’t that kind of girl.

I put my hand on Niko’s arm.

He was instantly wide-awake.

“Hey, I just wanted to tell you—Astrid’s not feeling well so we’re going over to the clinic.”

“Okay.”

“When we get back, I’m going to help you figure out about Josie.”

“Okay.”

“I didn’t want you to think I forgot.”

He nodded.

The early-early birds were up and headed to the Clubhouse for breakfast. We saw them crossing the greens, alone and in small groups. Rising early was a good way to beat the lines.

The field hospital was housed in a series of tents behind the Clubhouse.

Alex had found out these tents were made by a Canadian company called Weatherhaven that had a manufacturing plant right here in Vancouver. It explained why the tents were so new and nice.

In the first tent, we had to register to get an appointment. A pleasant-faced woman sat behind a desk. An old-fashioned desktop computer took up a good portion of the space. Wires ran out of the back and down onto the floor, where they snaked back across the floor, collecting into a rubber tube. Hard-wired into the system. Very quaint.

She handed us a clipboard with several sheets of paper. A ballpoint pen swung off a string.

For whatever reason, Network coverage up here in Vancouver was nonexistent. We’d been told about some new WiFi systems being rigged up in other places, but here at Quilchena, it was a computer with a hard line or it was good old pen and ink.

We sat down with a couple other early stragglers. One woman was clutching her jaw and groaning. An older man had his arm in a cast and watched us with suspicion.

Maybe it was because Astrid’s hand was shaking as she filled in all the blanks on the form. She filled them with lies. Mostly lies.

“If they ask, I’m your fiancé,” I said as she finished the forms.

“What?” she asked, with her eyebrow cocked to the heavens.

“In case they won’t let me in with you. Because I’m just a boyfriend.”

“Okay,” she said, in a slightly “whatever” tone of voice.

“Never mind,” I said.

Why couldn’t I keep my mouth shut? Why couldn’t I ever be cool?

The woman took Astrid’s forms and typed them into her computer.

“Oh dear,” she said. “I don’t have your number in the system.”

“Ugh. They had the same problem yesterday,” I told her. “When we got in, at the registration. The lady said she’d try to sort it out and we should come back today to see.”

“Can we see someone anyway?” Astrid said. “I’m scared for the baby.”

The woman studied Astrid with a kind look on her face.

“Here’s what we’ll do. I’m going to have one of the nurses take a look at you. Tomorrow, or later today, once the paperwork is all settled, I want you to come back and book a proper appointment. They’ll do a physical, blood work, the whole thing.”

She picked up a telephone.

“Sylvia, I’m sending a young couple to you. Could you ask Kiyoko to take a quick look?”

After she hung up she turned back to us.

“Kiyoko’s one of my favorites. She used to be a labor and delivery nurse. She’s your gal.”

We went back outside with directions to Tent 18. The tents were laid out in a grid, very orderly. Tent 18 had rows of examining tables standing against the walls. Cabinets with medical supplies and equipment stood between the tables, separating them into little examination cubicles. Each cubicle had a white curtain that could be drawn for privacy.

A woman in fatigues saw us.

“You here to see Kiyoko?” she asked us.

We nodded.

“Come this way. I’m going to put you in a cube with an ultrasound machine.”

In the exam cubicle Astrid and I stood there uneasily. I could see why the idea of coming here had made her uneasy. It was all very organized and efficient—but it was also very military. I felt strange, standing there in my dirty sweatshirt and jeans. Like I was messing the place up.

The curtain whisked open and we both jumped.

“Hello, Carrie?” a Japanese woman in scrubs asked Astrid in a thick accent. She was tall, with wire-rimmed glasses and a ponytail.

“What seems to be the problem?”

Astrid explained about the cramps.

Kiyoko read her intake form.

“Only twenty-eight weeks?” she asked.

“I think so,” Astrid said.

“Let’s have a look.” She helped Astrid lie back onto the examining table. Astrid lifted up her shirt.

Her belly was taut and improbably round, like a dwarf watermelon. Pink stretch marks lined the area under the belly near her hips. I hadn’t noticed them before. They ran in messy parallel lines, like indistinct claw marks.

“Mmph, baby’s growing fast,” the nurse noted, pointing to the stretch marks. “Skin can’t stretch fast enough.”

She took out a tube and squeezed a clear gel onto Astrid’s belly.

“Are you the daddy?” she asked me.

I didn’t know what to say.

I decided on yes.

Astrid reached out her hand to me. That was nice.

The nurse put a handheld wand on Astrid’s skin and the screen of the ultrasound machine came to life.

In shades of green, shapes moved around the screen and I had no idea what we were seeing. Blobs moving and then Kiyoko pointed to the screen.

“Here’s baby’s heart,” she said. She clicked a mouse on the computer attached to the screen and took a measurement of the beating shape.

We could hear it, too.

“This is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen,” I blurted out.

Astrid squeezed my hand. She looked so proud and relieved.

“Baby’s fine,” Kiyoko said. “Do you want to know the sex? Boy or girl?”

“No,” Astrid and I said at the same time.

“Mmph,” she grunted. This seemed to be a part of her vocabulary, this strange little mmph. It conveyed “Yes, I see,” and also, “Maybe.”

The screen moved with the wand. As she traced it over Astrid’s belly, the image changed. I thought I was seeing things I could recognize, arms, legs, but who knows.

“Here’s the face,” the nurse said. “Look, Mama. The face of your baby.”

There it was, in silhouette.

“It’s a real baby. It’s a real baby in there,” I said like an idiot.

“I know. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Astrid asked me.

I nodded, awed by the glowing swimmer on the screen.

“This baby is big,” Kiyoko said. “You were exposed to compounds?”

“No,” Astrid choked out. “Never.”

“Mmph,” she said. “I think maybe so. Your uterus is small, but the baby is big. Growing too fast.”

“No,” Astrid said.

“These cramps. The body is surprised by the baby. Growing so fast.”

“We’re from Telluride,” I lied. “The compounds never reached us. But we had to evacuate anyway. We had to leave everything behind.” That was the story of a teenage boy I’d met in our tent.

“My mom said I was a really big baby,” Astrid protested.

It struck me that she was afraid of the baby being too big.

“Mmph,” Kiyoko said. She wasn’t making eye contact with us now. She was making notes on “Carrie’s” file. “US government’s doing study on pregnant women. They pay well.”

“I’d never let them do tests on me,” Astrid said. Her voice was cold.

“Lots of women say this. But when they learn more, they change their mind. Very good money. Low risks.”

“They’re taking people away against their will,” Astrid said.

I tried to tell her to stay quiet with my eyes.

“For you, you need rest, okay, Mama? Take rest. Take vitamins.”

Nurse Kiyoko wrote a prescription on a pad. I thought only doctors could do that, but maybe things were different in Canada.

“Vitamin D. This will help.”

Around this moment we heard a shrill voice yelling outside the tents. A kid.

“I will just check dilation, next, mmph,” Kiyoko continued, but we hardly heard her.

“Astrid?” came the voice outside the tent. Jesus, it was Chloe. “Astrid? Dean? Where are you?”

She had to be right outside the tent.

“Chloe! What’s wrong?” I yelled.

What had happened? My heart was up in my throat in an instant.

“Where are you?” I shouted.

“Where are you?!” Chloe snapped back.

I stepped out of the curtain in the main passage of the tent and saw her pass by outside the open door. She had something in her hand.

“Chloe!” I yelled.

She stepped in, pushing right past the nurse in fatigues.

“Oh my God, guess what?!” she gushed. “We’re FAMOUS! Like really, really famous!”

Chloe held up a newspaper.

“Alex wrote a letter to a newspaper and they printed it and it tells our whole story, about how close we were to NORAD and everything!” She glanced at Kiyoko. “Hi.”

There was a slugline reading: THE MONUMENT 14.

“That’s really cool,” I tried to cover. “We’ll read it all together with the others back at the tent. We’re in the middle of something here—”

Chloe didn’t even hear me. She barreled on.

“Look, it’s all about us and how we made it from Monument to Denver and about Mrs. Wooly and everything. Astrid, look, here’s the part about you.”

Chloe pointed to a paragraph.

“Now’s not the time,” Astrid said. She pulled her shirt down, getting the gel all over it.

I helped her off the table.

Kiyoko took the newspaper from Chloe.

“But it tells our whole story! About the compounds and the black cloud and how the others went to Denver in a bus and came back for us. And now anyone can find us. Everyone can know where we are!” Chloe exclaimed. “It’s how our parents will find us!”

“Let’s go read it outside,” I said. I took the paper from Nurse Kiyoko. “Thanks again for everything.”

She looked pissed.

“Lying to a nurse is very bad,” Kiyoko said sternly. “Pregnant women, exposed to compounds, need special care.”

I grabbed Astrid’s arm and steered her away from her.

“I don’t need special care. I’m fine,” Astrid said.

We were at the door to the tent now.

“You guys! You should be happy!” Chloe complained, trailing behind us. “I thought you’d be psyched.”

“Wait!” Kiyoko called. She turned around and called for the other nurse. “You need to tell me the truth! And we need to do some tests.”

We sped away from the medical tents as fast as we could.

“I still don’t understand why you’re not excited!” Chloe whined.

Astrid turned around and grabbed Chloe by both arms.

“I didn’t want them to know my real name!” she snapped.

“Why?” Chloe asked. “That doesn’t even make sense? I mean, how am I supposed to know that?”

We left her behind.

“You know, Alex and Sahalia were really psyched about the letter. They kept it a secret and everything.”

We were headed toward, I don’t know where. Away from Chloe.

“Try a little gratitude sometime!” she yelled after us.