Page 13 of All Your Days
“You’re about to be sent on a supply run. See me before you leave for the actual specs. He’s drawn something up and won’t even let the others see it. I’ve had to make some changes to the teams. It couldn’t be helped. Okay?”
The warning doesn’t fill me with hope, but I don’t disagree with the order—because that wasn’t a suggestion.
My meeting with Watson doesn’t make me feel any better. Instead, I leave more unsettled than ever, clutching a sealed envelope given to me with explicit instructions from my frantic-eyed leader to not share it with the ‘untrustworthy swines at the desk.’
“Can I see what he’s given you there, please?” Hank asks when I emerge from Watson’s office. Again, it's an order disguised as a friendly question.
I only hesitate for a second, looking back at the office to ensure the door is firmly closed.
Hank tears open the envelope without any of my hesitation, tutting over the scribbles scrawled over the page. Unlike the kids at The Facility, I never went to school, and so I never got a good grasp of letters and such when I eventually learnt them. But even I know that there is nothing written on that page. It’s gibberish.
“Should—should he still be allowed…” It’s insubordinate to ask, but I can’t stop myself. At the end of the day, the man is responsible for too many lives to be that… incoherent. And really, if anybody else in the place acted like that, they’d be sent down below for sure for fear of turning. It’s just one of the ways Command’s different from the rest of us.
Hank seems to understand, and doesn’t take offence. He lays the papers neatly on the table, smoothing them over.
“Off the record? No. And management is doing what we can to alleviate the issue. Rest assured, you and your men are being taken care of.” He pauses to pick up a second sealed envelope from his neatly ordered desk. “In that vein. The orders from up high are looking to ‘shake things up’, to ensure that our ‘assets are being used to the best of their abilities’. So like I said, there’s been a change to your run team. I don’t understand it myself, but Commander Agathangelou has been in contact with the Union and there are changes happening all over The Facility.”
Over the years, I’ve assumed the unofficial position as leader of the run teams. It’s a difficult and dangerous journey. From the feral animals, to the raiders that still occasionally roam the arid lands, to lack of water, to the dangerous and inhospitable landscape, it’s considered by many to be a hellish risk to be avoided. At one point it was actually used as a punishment until I argued—repeatedly—that resentful guards make risky guards that would cost us all our lives.
I’m almost too nervous to look, especially under Hank’s watchful eye. But the fact it makes me nervous only spurs me on. To spite my own feelings, I tear the envelope open, quickly scanning the names of the guards joining me.
And there it is. My usual team of Rodrick, Emmy, and Lucas, along with our regular grunts Andy and Phillip have been replaced.
I check the names twice over before I let myself react. There is no way this list can be accurate.
I haven’t had much to do with the guards Malcolm, Ryan, and Cale. They are on a separate rotation to me, but I know them by reputation. They’re known to be a tight trio with a habit of fucking around on the job. It looks like, despite years of mostlysmooth, successful runs, we’re back to using them as punitive measures for guards they don’t know what to do with.
Knowing there is nothing I can do about the orders, I swallow down my anger and check the names of my grunts.
Fuck. My hands tremble and the page blurs. There is no fucking way.
Eli.
There is absolutely no reason to have him moved out of the Labs into a job as dangerous as this one. Even if I put aside my feelings about him, and rage I feel about taking him outside the walls and the safety of The Facility—Eli hasn’t even been involved in forage work since he was fifteen. How the fuck is he meant to be able to help the other grunt Lou handle the camels they need for transport? Or the cooking? Or literally any of the jobs they leave to the grunts on these trips? It’s ridiculous. Totally unacceptable. It’s a death note for us all.
“No.” I carefully lay the paper on the desk and fold my arms over my chest. “I’m not going on the run with a grunt that inexperienced. It’s not safe. It’s—”
“Your orders.” Hank leans back in his chair, regarding me over the thick rim of his glasses. Hank’s older than me, and softer in the middle, but he’s managed to maintain an aura of power and authority that Iusuallyrespect. Right now, I’m finding it really fucking difficult.
“So my orders are todiein the fuckin’ desert?” I spit out, going well beyond toeing the line. Yelling at Hank is more like pissing on the line.
“The Union has faith in you and the men. Take the list. You’ll be leaving tomorrow. Your other duties have already been reassigned until then so you can get yourself organised.”
Fuck. There isn’t even time to get my men prepared. To getEliprepared. This is going to be a monumental disaster. I can feel it in my bones.
But what choice do I have? If I kick up a fuss, they’ll just replace me. And then Eli will be out there, alone in the Outback, with someone completely fucking useless taking care of him. It’s unthinkable.
With no choice, I snatch up the envelopes—both of them—and storm my way out the Command office, cursing every man in there and The Facility itself to hell and back.
Chapter four
Eli
“I can’t believe theyare sending you. It’s just… why? I don’t get it.” Jessica hiccups a big sob from her chest and pulls me in for another tight hug so her tear-soaked face is smushing into my neck.
It’s not exactly helping my anxiety over the situation. I’m already tired from not sleeping again last night. This time because I was too terrified about what the morning would bring. As much as I want to be strong for my friend, I’m not sure I have it in me.
Gingerly, I pat her back, silently begging Matty for help.
