Only Human

Liz lay in the darkness, eyes open, staring into empty space. Somewhere above was the concrete ceiling, but in the pitch-black she imagined it was the sky that stretched overhead, infinite in its expanse. Only there were no stars, no moon or drifting satellites, and in her heart, she could not convince herself of the illusion.

In her heart, she remained trapped, locked away within the soulless walls of the facility.

She could still feel the boy watching her, begging for help, for an end to the torture. A shudder ran through her as she remembered the way Halt had looked at her, the piercing grey of his eyes as he weighed her worth. It had been so close, a different toss of the coin, and he might have chosen her…

Biting back a sob, Liz closed her eyes, though it made no difference in the dark. She had wanted to go to him; only Ashley had stopped her. Instead, she had stood in silence, hand in hand with the girl from the city, as William slid towards death.

Liz shivered, a scream building in her throat. She bit it back, and drew the thin blanket closer around her. Goosebumps pricked her skin as she rolled onto her side. Her body ached and a constant thudding came from her temples. The doctors had subjected them to eight hours of relentless exercise, until the sun had finally dipped below the towering walls. By then, her body had been little more than a series of bruises. A measly meal of broiled stew in their cell had followed, though in truth it was better than most of what she'd scavenged in Sacramento. Then the lights had clanked off, plunging them into the darkness.

"You okay, Liz?" Ashley whispered from below.

Liz suppressed a shudder.

Am I okay? She turned the question over in her mind, wondering whether she would ever be okay again. At the thought, a yearning rose within her, a need for companionship, for comfort.

"I'm alive," she replied, then: "What about you?"

Out on the field, Ashley had barely moved while William lay writhing in the dirt. Her face had remained impassive; the only sign anything was amiss her iron-like grip around Liz's hand. Afterwards, Ashley had moved through the drills and tasks set by the doctors with an eerie calm, as though her mind were far away, detached from the horror of her situation.

There was a long pause before Ashley answered. "I'm alive too." Her breath quickened. "That's saying a lot."

"How long…how long have you and Sam been here?"

Another pause. "Weeks, a month. I've lost count of the days."

"And…and you've seen things like that, like today with William?"

Below, Ashley gave a sharp snort. "That, and more." She shifted in the bed, causing the bunk to rock.

Liz shivered, thinking of the icy glances that had passed between Ashley and Sam, as well as the others. "What about the two in the other group, Richard and Jasmine?"

"What about them?" Ashley's response was abrupt, her voice sharp.

"You know them," Liz whispered, aware she was treading on dangerous ground. "Who are they?"

"You'll find out soon enough, Liz. Best you not worry about it."

Liz swallowed. Ashley's reply brooked no argument, and an uneasy silence fell between them. For a while, Liz lay still, staring into space, wondering at Ashley's words. Below, Sam gave a snort and rolled in his bed. Liz stifled a groan as a rumble came from the boy's chest and he started to snore.

"The boys don't seem to be having any trouble sleeping," she muttered, hoping Ashley was still awake.

"You know what boys are like," came Ashley's reply. Liz could almost hear the girl smiling. "Emotional capacity of a brick and all…" Her voice faded for a moment. "Sam…he closes it off I think, buries it deep. It comes out in other ways though, like how he reacted to Chris when you arrived."

"And you?" Liz couldn't help but dig deeper. Through the heat and torture, the agonizing exercises and the hard-faced stares of the doctors, Ashley had not missed a beat. She had smiled through each new challenge, as though privy to some secret joke, moving with that same fluid grace Liz had noted when she'd first seen her.

When Ashley did not answer, Liz pressed on. "You looked so calm, even when…" She trailed off as William's agonized face reappeared in her mind.

"I was?" Ashley sounded surprised. Sheets rustled in the darkness. "I wasn't. Inside I was screaming, but I've learned when to keep things to myself, when not to draw attention. Even before this place, it was a skill I'd mastered."

Liz sat up at that. "What do you mean?"

Quiet laughter came from below. "I've had a lot of practice, Liz. My parents worked for the government."

An icy hand slid its way down Liz's throat and wrapped its fingers around her heart. Her breath stuttered, the cold steel pressing against her throat. She grasped at the covers, tearing at the cheap fabric.

Below, Ashley was still talking. "They worked in media relations, of all things. No one important, nothing to do with the President and his people. Just a couple of analysts in a tiny department of our fine administration." Her last sentence rang with sarcasm. "But even two lowly analysts quickly discovered there's no such thing as free speech these days. Especially for those close to power. They had to learn to wear masks, to hide their true beliefs about the goings-on of the government. By the time my older sister and I came along, they had become masters at it. So I guess you could say, I learned from the best."

"Why would they stay?" Liz tried to keep the emotion from her voice, but the question came out harsh, accusing.

"Why?" Ashley paused, as though considering the question. "For my sister and me, I guess. To give us a better life. They may not have agreed with everything the government did, but they knew leaving was not really an option. Their careers would have been destroyed. They didn't want to raise their daughters on the streets."

"Yes, it's not much of a life," Liz all but growled.

Ashley fell silent, and for a long while it seemed she would not reply. Guilt welled in Liz's chest, but she pushed it down.

"Didn't really matter in the end, did it? They sacrificed their beliefs, their integrity, so we could live, but it didn't make any difference. They were found out for doing something wrong, I guess. Must have been, because here I am."

Liz's anger dwindled with Ashley's words. It was not the girl's fault she'd been born into wealth, while Liz had been condemned to the poverty-stricken countryside. Even so, she could not quite set aside the emotion, could not quite let it go.

"Sorry," she offered at last, her tone still harsh. "It's just, for as long as I can remember, the government has been the enemy. Even as a child, they were the people who came and took our food, the landowners who held our lives in the palm of their hands. Then, when I was older, after my parents…after they passed…" She shook her head, angry images flashing through her mind.

"I understand," Ashley's whisper came from below. "But none of that matters now, does it? Whoever our parents were, whatever we've been through, we've arrived in the same place. We're both trapped in the same nightmare. You'll learn that, soon enough."

"It gets worse?" Liz spoke the words without emotion. Her energy was spent, and she could hardly bring herself to care about whatever fresh trials the morning might bring.

"Only if you're human," Ashley replied.

The words rang with finality and Liz sensed the conversation had come to an end. Shivering, she hugged the covers tight around her. Suddenly she longed to be wrapped in another's arms, to be touched by another human. An image of her mother drifted into her thoughts, a warm smile on her lips, eyes dancing with humor.

Biting back a cry, Liz buried her head in the pillow, anxious to hide her sorrow. As she cried, another thought rose, a question that demanded an answer. One she should have asked. Silently, she cursed her selfish grief.

"Ashley," she breathed. "What happened to your sister?"

Silence clung to the darkness, and long minutes passed, until Liz was sure the girl had already fallen asleep.

"She's dead." The answer came just as Liz was preparing to give up.

Sobs came from below, carrying with them the pain of loss.

"I'm sorry," Liz whispered, the words hollow, even to her.

Ashley did not reply, and Liz lay back on her bed, listening as Ashley's crying faded away.

It was a long time before sleep found Liz.