Turtle Country

My name is Annabelle Jenkins. I am twenty-three years old. The last time I checked, I weighed 113 pounds and the nurses say I am fit, if a little underweight, for fighting.

Or reproducing.

I have to pick one of them soon or I’ll be drafted into the pool and my fate will be decided by a lottery. I’d rather make the choice myself so I’ll have someone to blame when it goes wrong. It’s always easier when you have someone to blame - even if that person is yourself.

I grew up with my sister in Atlanta. That’s just south of the new Turtle Line that separates Augustus from Turtle Country, backwood territory. You’re lucky if you’ve never been here before. This land might be beautiful, but scouts still pour in from the north and there is hardly enough crop these days to feed us all. You try to live here and you’re just as likely to starve to death as you are to be shot for The Cause. Personally, I’d take the shooting. At least it’s quick.

Today couldn’t be more slow. Mama is sick again and Daddy is gone. He died when enemy infantry invaded just four miles north of here. It was nine months ago now. We thought we were safe since the Line is by what they used to call Tennessee, way too far south for the war. But, what with the tele-network down and the power outages getting worse, we hadn’t gotten word of the new invasion until it was too late. Daddy died for us, I guess, though it feels like his death wasn’t worth much at all.

I told my mama that I would get her something for her cough, but there’s nothing left to barter in town. Well, nothing besides Mama’s old locket. It’s a heart-shaped little thing passed down from Granny. They used to have pretty things in Granny’s day. Mama gave it to me to hold on to for emergencies. I keep telling her that that cough is getting to be an emergency.

Sometimes I pretend that I’m living in the world that used to be, all those big towers filled with families and cars in the streets. Hell, I even pretend that Turtle might make it out of this war and give us all a bit of peace. But I know deep down we won’t. And I know those shiny towers are full of the homeless and wounded now. We’re lucky our house is far enough away from the center of the city that nobody wanted it for The Cause.

The horses need to rest for a while, so I strap on my old boots and head off down the lane. There was a time when Turtle was a beautiful place. Big trees and bigger houses sat up proud all over this land. The trees are still standing, but the houses have mostly given way to rot and rubble, a side effect of little money and lots of war.

I’ve thought a lot about what I would do with more coin in my pockets, where I would go… But I know it doesn’t do any good to keep fantasizing about things I’ll never have. It’s hard to see the land like this, torn apart and aching for someone, anyone to give it some love.

I turn onto the main road and ignore the neighbor’s boy glaring at me like the Devil’s on my back. He’s still mad I took one of his daddy’s hogs to feed Grace after the baby came. She was bedridden something awful and needed the protein. He’ll just have to think I’m mean, and I suppose I am a little. That poor thing was only worth Mama’s last bracelet. I guess my sister didn’t choose so bad when her turn came. I can’t say I’m likely to choose the same.

I make my way into town and find the Pawner in his shop. He’s a meaty fella with a pair of overalls that probably costs more than our house.

“What is it today, Anna? More costume jewelry from your mother?” he asks, sneering at me.

I don’t say a word, just plunk that locket right on the scale.

I have the satisfaction of watching his jaw drop.

“Well, ah, this is a fine piece,” he says, staring at it greedily. “Did you steal it?”

“Hell no, Tom. That’s all we’ve got left, and I know what it’s worth. Are you buying or am I walking?”

“Now hold your horses, Anna,” he says, picking it up off the scale. “I need to examine the metal. You just sit there and wait.”

He points to a stool he’s set up in the corner of the shop. I do what he says, tapping my foot with impatience. It’s hard to like a man like the Pawner. He looks like he’d sell you to the North in a heartbeat.

I hear horse hooves coming up the road in a hurry. I cross my arms, biding my time while the Pawner works in back. The hooves stop.

A marshal dressed in black and sweating bullets stomps inside, clearing his throat. “You here, Tom?”

The Pawner comes out smiling, his hands empty.

“This her?” the marshal asks.

I get up, sensing something amiss.

“Now, now, Anna. We all make mistakes,” the Pawner says too sweetly. “Marshal Cane here is going to teach you a lesson in honesty.”

I stare from the marshal to Tom, and vault over the counter, sprinting to the back of the shop. I see Mama’s locket sitting in a glass case. My blood boils.

Marshal Cane comes running in after me. “It’s Anna, isn’t it?”

I glare at the man, glancing around for something solid to break the case.

“Maybe if you tell me your side of things, I can resolve this matter faster,” he says, calmly pulling out his baton.

“Can I borrow that?” I ask him.

He smirks. “Tell you what. You manage to take this from me, I’ll let you go without any charges.”

“And how exactly did you get here so quickly, officer? The station’s clear across the other side of town.”

Marshal Cane frowns. “Never you mind, little miss. Let’s just keep calm and get out of ol’ Tommy’s hair.”

Tom’s reflection appears behind me in the glass. It comes to mind that these two are working together in some kind of fleecing operation, and I’m not about to be their next victim.

“Tell you what,” I say. “Why don’t you have ol’ Tommy open that case for me before I show y’all what my Daddy taught me before he died.

Marshal Cane shoots a look at Tom and I duck, swinging my leg out behind me. Tom crashes into the case and Cane is thrown backward. I take my chance and grab the locket from beside the dirty Pawner, running for my life back the way I came.

Outside the shop, people are walking by with bored looks. None of these people will help me. I might be part of their daily lives, but I’ve got gold in my hands now. I’m better off running than asking.

I untie the marshal’s horse from the post and hop on just as I see him careening out of the shop door.

“Stop! Stop that thief!” he screams in a rage.

I dig my heels into the horse’s sides as hard as I can and it shoots off down the road. It’s all I can do to hold onto both the locket and the reins. I think of going back for Mama and Grace, but I can’t risk it. That’s the first place they’ll look for me.

I haven’t cried in seven years, not since my cousin died of the same cough Mama’s got now. But I can feel the lump forming in my throat as I cross into scout land, flying through the old Georgian farmland as fast as a bullet from the old world.

It’s about four hours later, judging by the way the sun is sinking behind the trees, when a rope shoots out from within the creeping dark. I cry out.

“Argh!” I scream as a lasso tightens around my waist and pulls me off my borrowed horse. “Let me go!”

The dang horse runs off happily, free of its charge at last.

“Easy, lady,” a smooth voice calls from the tree line. “We ain’t gonna hurt ya. We’re just trying to establish whether or not you got any weapons on ya.”

“Shut up, Billy,” a woman says from the dark. “She’s barely old enough to fight. She doesn’t have any weapons.”

The woman comes toward me. Her face is pale and round. She’s got a blue bandana around her wrist: Augustan.

“What do you want?” I spit, rolling myself upright and onto my knees.

“That’s the wrong question, lady,” Billy says, coming out of hiding. “The question is what do you want? You want to stay out here in this God forsaken place or do you want to see the future?”

I glare at them both, but address the woman. “What is he talking about?”

“Tell you what,” she says, pulling off the rope, “why don’t you come along with us on a joy ride and see the world we have to offer? If you don’t like it, we’ll bring you back here to fend for yourself. If you do like it, we’ll help bring your family over the border lands and get you settled in the real world.”

I stare at them, unsure. “Is this a trick? Because frankly, I’ve already been tricked once today and I don’t think I have the patience to endure it again.”

It is not a trick. A glass tube with a metal floor and fire under its belly rises out of the trees. I watch Billy fiddle with something on his wrist as it flies closer and comes to a perfect stop next to us.

Gasping, I reach my hand to the humming thing, brushing the side of it. It’s warm.

“What in the name of Turtle is this?” I ask.

The woman chuckles. “Come on. There’s a lot for you to see yet.”

I follow them aboard the tube. We’re flying over the forest like three witches at midnight and for the first time in my life, I think I feel something other than the slow dread of knowing exactly what’s going to happen to me before I die.

Hundreds of lights pop up over the horizon. I don’t know much, but I know Augustus isn’t suffering the power failures we have at home.

“I don’t understand,” I say. “I thought Augustus was a wasteland. Isn’t that why y’all are after our water?”

The woman, Jessica, laughs. “That’s what the Great Cause is filling your heads with these days? First it was vaccines and then it was freedom of speech and now it’s water. Turtle Country spins a good tale, I’ll give you that.”

I stare at her, stumped and unsure.

We land in an alien world. Lights as bright as the sun itself shine from every window on every floor. There’s some kind of thoroughfare above our heads with more of those flying tubes zipping past. A stone wall of names stands erect at the main city gate.

“It’s the missing,” Jessica says. “All of the family members we still need to rescue are written there by those we’ve found out in Turtle Country.”

I gape at her, my heart seizing in my chest before dashing to the wall. There in plain black and white are our names: Marianne Jenkins, Grace Jenkins, Annabelle Jenkins. And I know the truth: my daddy isn’t dead. He’s here.

I turn and walk slowly back toward my escorts. “You have to take me back,” I say, my face like stone.

Their eyes widen in surprise.

“I have unfinished business in Turtle Country.”