Another tiring night, the men were in a poor mood
and took their pleasure roughly, made bruises. Then the guards did their flush
fueled sadism and left the entire crib exhausted. When the red pills came
around the babes all dosed eagerly, anxious to get away from the waking World.
In dreams Salyanna always went blank, nullified
reality completely until the drug wore off.
A harsh sound intruded, pulled her to a state of
grogginess and she sat up. The noise buzzed and brayed—on-off-on-off-on-off—and
light entered the crib from the window, threw shadows against the wall over her
bunk. Mabutu stood next to Kreesha, Honi got out of bed and joined them, they
watched the scene outside. Salyanna wobbled to her feet and went to the crowd.
Past the window men ran, they carried guns, she
heard rattling and popping sounds, the gun barrels sparked.
The window shattered, glass came flying inwards
around their heads, a row of holes appeared in the opposite wall. Everybody
screamed and ducked, Kreesha pulled the covers over her blue hair.
Salyanna crawled for her bed and struggled to get
underneath. Her girth was too wide, she couldn’t get past the bottom rail. She
pulled the mattress down and wedged herself into the corner of wall and floor
with the bed pad on top.
Her face to the floor, she saw through a small gap
under the mattress, watched Mabutu crawl to the door, his fingernails clawed at
the edge and desperately caught it. He pulled it open and scrambled for the
hall, away from flying glass.
There was a sudden dull ‘Whump!’ noise that shook
the crib. A bright orange glare shined from the ceiling, flames, smoke and
sparks erupted across her view. The screams she heard became pained as well as
terrified, but Salyanna sucked in her breath and held it, biting on her lips. The
view clouded with black smoke and she pulled her head down to her chest,
covered it with her arms, shivered and whimpered in fear. She inhaled, took
smoke, it burned and made her cough, she grew dizzy, the screams faded but the
alarms continued to rattle her. The mattress became intolerably hot.
The alarms quit, the silence weighed heavily, afraid
to see…
Something bashed and bustled her shelter, it rocked
and rumbled, a wave of chill water washed over the floor, soaked her grounded
flank.
The mattress lifted from atop of her and she felt
hands on her arms. She was pulled to her feet, a man on one side and a woman
across from him, they walk/carried Salyanna out of the crib, dodging lumpy
blackened forms on the floor.
Smoke lingered in the corridor, water stood an inch
deep, debris littered the way and poked her bare feet. Through the opposite
crib to a gap where once the walls had made a corner, the people took her on
past and she was outside.
Still half drugged, in shock and terror, she didn’t
register the changes, they merely happened. Rescuers escorted her to a spot
where a small crowd of other babes lingered. It was cold and she had only a
light wet smock, bare feet, comfort came from being in the mass of people
sharing body heat.
A small hand seized her wrist, she heard a voice:
“Sal!”
“Bubu?” Looked down into a soot streaked face, his
hair had singed ends. “What is happening? Where are we?”
“This is outside, we’re aren’t in the brothel. Look
up… ” he pointed skyward.
Her eyes followed the finger, head lifted and she
reeled. The blue depth was too remote, cold and empty, the brilliance of
sunlight started her tears welling, up looked like a long long ways to fall.
New terror, agoraphobia, filled her, and she dropped
to the ground hugged her knees and screamed behind scrunched eyelids.
Mabutu went to her side with a hand to the shoulder,
other babes towered in a circle around her, but a few displayed the same
distress. Sobs and moans, confused muttering and stressed breathing, the sounds
of simmering panic surrounded the area.
A masculine voice shouted indistinctly across the
hubbub, Salyanna heard the word ‘food’, Mabutu stood up and helped her rise.
She caught her breath.
The crowd milled toward one side and made a cluster
facing a man she didn’t know, in strange clothes. He was doling portions from a
tabletop and the babes, conditioned by refectory queues, lined up.
They worked their way forward and received trays,
Mabutu led them to the edge of the mob, the only seating was cold bare
blacktop.
But the sun was up to a useful elevation, radiant
warmth soothed one side of her body like a comfy blanket.
Spongy bread with flaky crust, browned strips of
grilled sweetroot, crisp outside, pulpy and warm within, a porridge of grains
and herbs with chunks of dehydrated fruit: nothing like she had ever eaten
before, she chewed warily. The subtle tastes and complex textures were
difficult for her palette, at least there was a mug of tea, different from
Bobol’s, but good.
No pills followed breakfast, deprived of the stimulants
Salyanna remained sluggish and slack. The strangers controlled the environment,
led the refugees to a sheltered location. She saw a corner between buildings, a
confined space with two walls, and she rushed toward it, took possession of the
spot. Mabutu came quickly, he had obtained blankets and spread them over the
pavement.
Salyanna lay down, faced a wall and dozed, Mabutu
kept sentry over her.
Warm afternoon when she awoke, Mabutu showed her to
a row of curtained booths and camp latrines. The bucket was a low and difficult
squat, her knees were tight, bending made them ache and tingle.
The eunuch offered lunch, she nibbled, her stomach
tumbled and she spit up sourness, a greasy feeling seized her and she shivered
in the sun. More food was impossible.
“Bubu… I’m feeling sick… ”
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