At the Table, Prt 1

I could sleep through the rumblings of tanks and the smells of unwashed bodies and acid smoke, but I couldn’t sleep through the constant, panicked whispering of my name as it echoed in the hall. “Li’sah. Li’sah! Beans, girl, wake up! They’re coming!”1

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you!” Awake again. Beans, being awake felt barely worth the effort lately. Scrubbing dirty hands over a dirtier face, I blinked at the sickly, shining sunlight that struggled through the holes in the tarp that almost covered the grimy glass of the sleeping room. From the smell of burnt food, I guessed that I had missed breakfast, which meant I had missed morning prayers too. I groaned as I tried to sit up. Bad idea. My back screamed, making me whimper aloud as it reminded me that hauling the bodies of friends and heavy concrete all day was not exercise; it was torture. Necessary torture in time of war, but torture none the less. 2

“Li’sah! By the Stalk, get up! Death Mowers are coming!” 3

That made me move as nothing else could. Ignoring my rumbling stomach, my aching back, my sore head and my chilled, exposed legs, I ran to the hall and came face to face with C’esta. Even in these stressed times, she had a smile to spare for me. “You’re not wearing pants.”4

With an eye roll, I stalked past her, letting her trail behind me as I rushed towards the stairs. “Thanks, Captain Obvious.” My bare feet padded along the wooden, rickety stairs and I winced as I stepped on something sharp. Great. This day was just getting better and better. “L’igh. Status?”5

My sister sent me a quizzical look, her eyes blank as she cuddled herself in her torn layers of what might have been a sweater and long sleeved t-shirt in the times of Before. It broke my heart to see her so very clearly lost. I reached out one hand, which she ignored, as she stared at the window as if to puzzle out my distress. “On?” 6

C’esta sighed and pulled me to the window that faced the street. “There. See it?” 7

And by the Stalk, I did. There, in the distance, beyond the normal traffic of tanks and low flying planes was a marching column of black cloaked people. They carried things in their hands, wandsticks and temp hunting machines more than likely, as they searched alleys, and entered evacuated buildings. Cursing, I turned around quickly staring at the hopeful faces of my family, my friends. “Where’s Fu’zy?”8

“Hasn’t returned from sentry duty.”9

I stared at Erit, C’esta’s husband, fear turning my stomach as the realization hit me. My brother, the cocky bastard who once, when I was only seven, threw me into a dank basement and locked me in there for hours just because he was bigger than me, would never pull my curls again. He’d never smile at me with my father’s blue eyes or favor me with a quick, manly hug during the bombings. Once you went missing, you were just gone. I looked to Erit, whose arm was still in a sling from the last run in that we had with the Mowers and winced. Sometimes luck just didn’t enter your zone. L’igh made a noise behind me, and I turned to her as quick as my body would allow. Just the two of us left, just two little ducks when we once numbered six. I closed my eyes, hoping to stop the tears, but it did no good. We hugged, my sister and me, leaning on each other as much as we could while still keeping our feet. 10

C’esta cleared her throat, and I turned my head to see her flip that one long ponytail of deepest sable hair over her shoulder. “Li’sah, we all grieve with you. May Fu’zy be blessed at the table of our Father, but we must hurry! The Death Mowers will find us in three or so hours. Maybe less! What do we do?” 11

I looked over the rag tag group of twenty again, and squirmed in L’igh’s arms. My family, my friends. And now, my followers. Think, Sah, think! “How much in supplies do we have left?”12

Erit looked the meager supplies that littered the table near the door, and then checked with a list on torn pressed cotton in his shaking hand. He shook his head, lank ash blond bangs hanging to cover his eyes. This wasn’t a good sign. “Enough food to last us maybe two weeks, if we each carry about four pounds. But that will take all of our reserve and we won’t have enough to cross the border for at least another month. Maybe longer if we are on the run longer than two weeks this time. The batteries are nearly dead, and the radio is no good without them, so I suggest we leave that. Everyone’s extra clothing can be worn as we move and blankets, what we have, can be used to make packs to carry the food and water.”13

“We need the radio.”14

“Li’sah, it’s a was-“15

“We need that radio. We need it so we can find the next safe house.”16

Erit glared at me and then at C’esta when she moved to stand beside me. “This was a beaned safe house, and now there are Death Mowers at our door, by the Stalk! The radio will weigh someone down and it’s going to be nearly impossible to find anything to make it run on!”17

“I’ll carry it.” 18

I turned to spy my niece Ran’a, a bundle of sticks in dirty jeans and a ripped hooded sweatshirt, looking up at me with a child’s eagerness. “Ran’a, honey, while I appreciate that, we-“19

“Sahsah, I can do it. I can’t carry much food and stuffs, but I can use my blanket to make a sling. Like the ones I used to carry my Nefer in?” Her blue eyes, so much like L’igh’s, like her uncle Fu’zy’s, blinked at me. She held her hands near her stomach, as if cradling her lost baby doll. “See, like this? And then I can help.”20

Instead of arguing with her, I just nodded. I bent on one knee, though it nearly made me pass out from the pain, and kissed her grimed cheek. “Thank you, little Na. You’re a life saver.” She beamed at me and went running on two twig-like legs to get her blanket. Erit shook his head and started to divide the other supplies to make packing easier. Turning to C’esta and L’igh, I closed my eyes for a moment, hoping to wake up on the stained mattress upstairs. Instead, when I opened them I saw my sister, her deep red hair hanging in greasy strands around her face and my best friend, whose eyes seemed murky behind her cracked glasses. Tilting my head so that my ruddy copper curls brushed my neck, I jerked it behind me in a quiet signal and started to walk away. They followed, and soon we were alone in back of a house. “ May Fu’zy be blessed at the table of our Father,” I said quietly, and they both repeated the prayer. An actual service would have to wait till we weren’t running for our lives. “So, how did the Death Mowers find us?” 21

L’igh shook her head and glanced at her feet. C’esta was equally unhelpful. “There is no telling. We were supposed to be safe because this is a pre-searched area. The rumor of contamination and Ja’e’s little invention of the barrels that gave off the noxious gas was enough to fool them for the past month. There is no reason for them to even be here searching!” C’esta slammed one fist into the palm of her other hand and glared at the floor. “We should be safe!”22

“Never safe again. Never, ever.”23

I glanced as L’igh’s echo died around us in the empty room. “Li, go help Erit please. Make sure he doesn’t man it up.” She nodded weakly and hugged her arms to her body as she left. I followed, and shut the door behind her. 24

“She’s getting worse, Sah. You’re gonna have to do something about that soon.”25

“She’s fine,” I said to the door, although to even my ears, my voice sounded questioningly.26

C’esta sighed heavily, making me turn to face her. “Remember what happened to J’lia? She started like this, and between the running and not eating, not sleeping, she lost it. Went running straight into a restricted zone and was captured within five minutes. Straight to the city and reevaluation before anyone could even think of stopping her! We don’t have time to baby-sit her!”27

“She is not J’lia! K’il was wanded down in front of her by a Death Mower, three days ago. How would you feel if it was Erit?” I asked harshly, my voice thick with anger and fear. 28

C’esta reared back as if I had slapped her. Her color, beneath the mud and dirt, was a pale comparison to her normally deeply tanned skin. “She isn’t the only person to have lost someone they loved, Li’sah!”29

I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands and sighed, deeply and from what felt like the bottom of my toes. “C’esta, I know. I know, okay? Beans, I just need five minutes where I can sit and think!”30

“I know, it’s okay,” she said, coming around to hug me with one arm. I leaned my head against her shoulder, for once glad of my short height; C’esta hugging me like that made me feel safe. “I shouldn’t have said anything today, not with Fu’zy being gone. Not with us having to run again. I’m sorry.”31

Shrugging off both her arm and her apology, I went to the door. “Help get the others prepared, okay? I’m going to do some recon. Maybe Erit was wrong and we can cross the border.”32

C’esta gasped and grabbed my arm. “With Death Mowers out there? Have you tossed your beans?”33

With a slight shrug, and a slighter smile, I answered the only way I knew how; I left. Her voice, nervous but laced with a small amount of amusement floated behind me. “You’re still not wearing pants!” With a curse, I changed direction and headed upstairs. 34