The Locket

“You can’t go! It’s suicide!” Chase screamed, arms flailing as if he was drowning in a sea of unreason, waiting for me to come to my senses and give him a life raft out.

“Think of us, our family.” He said quieter, letting the words hang in the air. I paused my packing, my hand covering my stomach.

“I gotta go.” I replied coolly. I saw the tears fighting to surface behind his anger.

“You don’t even know if it’s her!” he said “It flashed so fast.” He softened grabbing my shoulders, “It could have been anyone, you said yourself she was gone after the bus incident, it couldn’t have been her.”

I thought back to the segment on the Regime news, how the cameras flashed to her, taller, thinner, her hair long and braided but unmistakably her. My heart leaped when I realized she was alive. For a second, the sorrow I had been caring for the last three years dissipated, filling the empty space with joy then quickly turning to panic and guilt.

“It was, I am going.” I answered unmoved by his words.

Wild with anger and desperation Chance grabbed my backpack and threw it against the wall, the contents slowly spilling out the open mouth of the zipper. The locket slipped out, cracked open, the gold gleaming in the dim room. I could just make out the shadow of her picture looking at me.

“Dammit Charlotte, I’m not letting you go! I get it, I do, but this is crazy.” he yelled. “Do you even know how dangerous it is? Even if you make it to the border, the Wanderers will get you and even worse if you make it inside.

But he didn’t get it and he never would.

I didn’t like what was coming next but it was the only way out. I let tears stream out of my eyes and pretended to collapse in distress.

“You’re right, I’m just so scared it was her. I need rest,” I said pretending to go to sleep. He curled in bed next to me putting his arm protectively around me...around us.

I laid there for hours waiting for him to drift off. The truck would be here soon but I couldn’t risk packing more. I was stuck with what I had, some clothes, fake papers, and the locket.

As the night stilled, headlights flashed through our windows. It was time, I had to be quick. I turned and looked at Chance’s peaceful sleeping face, I almost felt guilty. I gently rolled his arm off of me, then bolted.

I reached the backpack just as he began to stir. With no time to zip it, I grabbed the contents shoving them back inside. The locket firm in my hand, the chain entwined in my fingers.

“Char- what.... wait, no!” he screamed as he became lucid enough to realize what was happening. I made it to the door just before he stumbled out of bed toward me.

Outside the truck was waiting. I dashed to the truck, Chance chasing after me, gaining on me. Tripping in a small ditch, I felt the locket slip from my fingers. Frantically I scraped at the dark ground trying to find it before Chance could get to me. Suddenly, I felt the cool metal in the soft dirt. I raked it up into my hands clinging tight to it as the loose soil slipped through my fingers.

Climbing in the back of the truck I watched Chance drop to his knees, his broken eyes spilling tears as he pleaded that I come back.

As the truck roared away, I looked back at all I was leaving, Chance, the small cottage, the safety of being outside of the Regime. It was right then I felt the first kick. I froze as the reality of my decision set in, two more kicks in rapid succession in my lower abdomen. I was only fifteen weeks and hardly showing. Before it was easy to push from my mind but now guilt coursed through me.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered to my belly as the truck sped along.

“What’s that?” the guy next to me answered, overhearing. He was thin with unruly black hair and thick glasses.

“Nothing.” I whispered, keeping my head down.

“What are you doing heading into a place like this?” he asked.

“I could ask you the same.” I answered.

“I got word my dad is sick. I’m smuggling in medicine. You?”

“My daughter.” I answered, looking straight ahead. I could feel his eyes still on me and I knew he wouldn’t let up so I went on.

“We were in a bus attack years ago, just as the Regime was taking power. We were both injured. I thought she was gone, that I was gone. I was rescued and woke up at a camp outside the border, in Freeland. Yesterday though, I saw her on the Regime news.

I thought back to the bus explosion, holding my daughter as she slipped away and how I drifted off into nothingness. That was, until I awoke in a stranger’s arms in Freeland. Chance had found me on the ground and smuggled me to freedom while chaos ensued. It took years for me to be ready to rebuild my life with him. But now that is gone.

“I hope you find her.” He said, offering a sad doubtful smile. “ I’m Benson by the way.”

“Charlotte.” I answered tightly.

“Have you been back across since?” he gently inquired.

“No.” I answered, dropping my gaze to the ground.

“Well, I have a few times over and this is the best way yet. This truck is a Regime supply truck. Wanderers won’t touch it.” He answered.

“What are Wanderers?” a small woman sitting in the shadow of the truck asked. I hadn’t noticed her before but now I could see her eyes filled with fear.

A man in the corner leaned forward, opening his eyes wide and wild. “Wanderers thrive on violence. We don’t want to get caught by them or we will never return.” He said as he laughed maniacally.

The small woman shook with fear, curling herself into a tight ball.

“It is true they’re wild,” Benson interrupted. “But the Regime would have you believe they thrive on lawlessness, harming anyone outside of the Regime’s borders. Really, they’re given weapons, food, and substances to increase their violent impulses by the Regime. They patrol and get rewarded for capturing anyone trying to leave the Regime’s land. Course, the Regime doesn’t want anyone to know that, just another way they keep you in by staging nightmares on the path out.”

I could hear the anger he tried to hide peeking out of his calm voice.

He took a breath and looked at the woman. He continued, “But I have been across the border many ways and this is by far the best. This is a Regime supply truck. The driver will get us right through the gate and Wanderers won’t touch us, they won't cross the Regime.”

The woman relaxed, uncurling herself as I weaved the locket through my fingers. Hope swirled through me, just as I felt another small kick. I instinctively put a hand to my stomach feeling the weight of my choices.

We rode on in silence as the black of the night concealed us. The driver paused and turned to us, mouth in a grim line.

“We are heading into the Wanderer’s territory. Don’t make a sound. We will head straight for the front gate about four miles up the road here.” He grumbled. “We should be fine…” he said unconvincingly, “Should anything happen, find your way to gate five. It is unmanned this time of night and there’s a small hole you can crawl through on the left side.”

The woman in the corner curled herself back into a ball.

The dirt road dipped and sloped in all directions as we crossed into the territory. We could hear the Wanderer’s shrieks cry out across the quiet night sky. Engines revved in the distance and seemed to grow closer.

I looked at Benson, as the noise and shrieks grew louder. He put his hand over mine and squeezed. “It’s fine.” he mouthed.

The engine noise came right alongside of us, the shrieks whipping through our truck. I turned to Benson again. His eyes were wide with fear.

The truck suddenly jolted to the right, sending the small woman into Benson’s arms. Then to the left as we heard metal scraping.

Out of a small hole in the canvas I saw them. Faces unreadable covered in white masks. Machetes and clubs waved in the air as they cheered ramming our truck with theirs.

I could see the gate in the distance.

Suddenly the truck lurched forward and crashed against something hard. We landed on one another in a tangled pile. The truck wasn’t moving.

“Run!” Benson whispered urgently as we pulled ourselves away from one another.

Without thinking, I slipped off the back of the truck and ducked to the ground watching the Wanderers surround it. Their blank masks illuminated by the red brake lights. We scattered in every direction. Most fleeting toward the gate as the Wanderers pursued closely behind.

I flew to the Woodline, my footfalls quieted by the soft churned dirt beneath my feet.

I edged my way around the Woodline until I reached gate five. I dashed toward the small opening in the fence and scurried my way in, ducking into the deepest shadows under a shed until morning.

As the sun broke, I put my hair up in a loose knot and put my head down. I walked humbly but with purpose to seem as though I belonged.

Finally, I could see the Children’s Home in the distance. A Regime orphanage with kids milling around out front. One checkpoint was in the way.

“Papers,” a guard grumbled as I approached, grabbing the form from my hand scanning and tsking. “Pass.” she bellowed, pushing me through, moving on to the next person.

I glanced around, my heart caught in my throat as I saw her standing out front. I gripped the locket tighter.

I casually walked next to her, my body screaming to hug her, but I just turned away and whispered.

“Serena, it's me, Mom.” I said, slipping her the locket.

She raised her eyes and to meet mine and grabbed me hugging me hard.

The guards noticed and moved toward us, weapons drawn. I presented my papers once again but this time they brought in the retinal scan. The siren rang in my ears as the scan registered me as a defector. A guard in full riot gear quickly scooped me up, dragging me to a transport van. Serena chased after shouting and grabbing for me.

“No, you can’t take her!” Serena yelled as she tried to free me.

As I was thrown into the back, I watched her desperately pick up a stick and strike the guard. He paused, steadied himself and threw her in the back with me, shutting the doors and blocking out the light. The prison would be next. My only hope was to plead to keep Serena safe. Her infraction was serious but being so young there was some hope.

Tears streamed from my eyes as I held my girl close.

“I have missed you more than you could ever know.” I whispered, kissing her head.

From a small slit in the canvas of the van I could see us moving toward the border.

Wait, where are we going? I thought as I stood on my tiptoes looking out. We were moving through the territory and to the Freeland.

The guard driving removed his riot gear helmet and smiled.

“Charlotte, this is the second time I have dragged you outta here, let’s not have a third!” Chase smiled.

I hugged my girl close as I felt another kick.

“We are safe.” I whispered.