Free Untitled Agenda 21 Sequel (9781476746852) by Glenn Beck Page B

to keep the dampness from seeping through. There was a basin full of cold water and, beside it, a bottle of sanitizing solution. Folded in the corner was an extra uniform and sleeping clothes.
    I dumped the cold water out of the basin and loaded the clothes and sanitizing solution into it. I shoved the basin out of the tent and looked around. What else? What else could I take? The rubber mat! Surely that could be useful. I pushed the sleeping mat aside and rolled up the stretch of rubber. Finally, I threw the sharp wooden peg into the basin. When you have nothing, everything becomes a necessity.
    I slipped back out with the rubber mat under my arm. Outside the other tent, Micah had piled a rolled-up blanket and another bottle of sanitizing solution. I crawled over to his tent and looked inside. He wasn’t there. Where was he?
    Frantic, I whispered his name, “Micah.” No answer. I whispered again, a little louder. No answer. From between the tents, I could seethe workers, backs still toward us, moving closer to the ends of their rows, closer to the bus-box. Soon they would turn and be facing us.
    I slipped between the tents, and crawled toward the field. Micah was there, at the edge of a row of plants, picking something and quickly, ravenously, putting it in his mouth, his little jaw moving as fast as his fingers could pick. Even when I whispered his name a little louder, he didn’t look up, didn’t respond. Putting food in his mouth was all he cared about.
    On my hands and knees, I moved close enough to touch his arm. He jumped, startled and looked around, dazed, as though he couldn’t figure out where he was and what he was doing. Then he relaxed, smiled at me, and handed me something. It was about three inches long, narrow, and dark green, with bits of dirt on it. He motioned for me to put it in my mouth.
    I bit down on it and it crunched, the taste exploding in my mouth. It was so good. I didn’t mind the dirt. Even that tasted good. My throat was dry as I swallowed. I could see lots more of the same thing on the green vines around us, food the workers had missed.
    I could see that the workers were just a little distance from the end of the rows where they would turn and face us. As quickly as I could, I pulled more and more of the green things from the plants and shoved them in the pockets of my uniform. Micah, seeing what I was doing, started stuffing his pockets, too. We would bring food to David and Elsa. My heart was beating hard, and fast, and my hands were shaking. Food. Oh, dear sweet Jesus, food.
    Then the whistle blew and the workers straightened up. The routine of bending, stretching, moving their arms in circles began and ended. We had just a little time before they would turn and head in our direction.
    Their picking resumed. I motioned to Micah; we needed to leave, go back across the river. As we scuttled backward toward the tents with our loot, I saw a female worker fall to the ground with a heavy thudand lie motionless. Her headscarf lay in the dirt beside her. Had she fainted? Died? I stared in horror, unable to blink.
    A guard walked over to her and shook her roughly. She did not respond, but stayed motionless, facedown on the ground, her arms outstretched. The guard kicked the woman and shouted at her, but still she did not respond. The others appeared not to notice anything, but picked with their heads down, except for one of them, the bigger man I had noticed before. He took an awkward step over a row of plants, toward the woman on the ground. His one leg appeared to be dragging. A nearby guard pointed his gun at him and the big man retreated back to his place in his assigned row.
    How could the rest of them ignore this? How could they just keep their heads down as if nothing was happening? They just kept bending and picking, bending and picking, like machines.
    Two guards grabbed the woman by her arms and dragged her, limp and lifeless, to the bus-box. The Transport