Free Apocalypsis 03 - Exodus by Elle Casey Page B

Dammit.
    “Bryn’s here to watch us make cloth.” Mandy left me to go sit down at a loom. At least that’s what it looked like to me.
    “Whoa. That’s cool,” I said, going over to stand next to her. I reached out to touch it.
    “Ah-ah-ah! Don’t touch.” She raised her hand as if to slap me.
    I jerked my hand back. “Sorry.”
    “Just watch and learn, grasshopper,” she said.
    She moved some levers and passed a hunk of wood with some yarn around it though the middle of what looked like guitar strings stretched across the frame. She pulled back on a wooden bar, shifted a lever dropping something down, and then moved the hunk of wood through again from the other side. I watched her for a few minutes and was fascinated to see an actual piece of cloth starting to appear at the frame near her stomach.
    “Wow, that is so cool.”
    “Yeah,” she smiled up at me. “It is, right? I never knew clothes started out this way until I came here.”
    “That doesn’t look like clothes material, though,” I said, leaning over to touch it.
    She slapped my hand away. “Don’t touch. It’s not for clothes. This is what we use for rugs and blankets.”
    “Oh, man. I want a rug like this.” The colors were crazy vibrant and I could see samples of finished products folded up on a shelf nearby with patterns on them.
    “Play your cards right and you might get one,” she said turning back to her work. “Now go away. I’m busy.”
    I frowned. “I want to try.”
    She shook her head. “Nope. I have a quota I have to get done today. Talking to you is slowing me down. Maybe another time.”
    I felt rejected, but knew I couldn’t get in the way of their plans. They had a whole group of new kids to clothe and keep comfortable. No way was I going to be to blame for getting in the middle of that.
    Just then Peter came walking in. “Hey, Bryn. What’re you doing here?”
    “Didn’t they tell you? I’m head weaver now.”
    Peter frowned at me for about two seconds before he said, “Yeah right. That’ll be the day.” He took a seat at one of the looms nearby that was unoccupied, pulling a couple levers and picking up the hunk of wood to start weaving, as if he’d been doing it his whole life.
    “I’ve got your workout schedule put together,” he said without looking at me. “I assume you can start tomorrow. Is that going to be okay?”
    “Yeah,” I said absently, watching him work. I wandered over closer, wondering if I could get him to give me a try. “So, do you have quotas too?”
    “Yeah. But they’re not as bad as Mandy’s. She’s the top dog around here.”
    “Watch who you’re callin’ dog, dog .”
    Peter smiled. “Whatever, Mandycat.”
    Peter seemed happy here - less stressed than he did back at the hut or when I saw him talking to the mystery man in the trees.
    “So, Peter, where were you this morning?” I asked as quietly as I could and still be heard over the clacking of the looms’ boards.
    “Around. Coming here.”
    “I left after you and got here before you, though.”
    “I was in the bathroom.”
    “I went there too.”
    Peter sighed and stopped working to stare at me. “Am I in trouble for something? Why do I feel like you’re watching my every move?”
    “Uhhh, because I am?”
    “Why?” he whispered, glancing over at Mandy. I looked at her too, but she seemed very focused on her work. Another girl came in and sat down at her loom. The clacking got louder.
    “Because,” I whispered back. “You’re being mysterious and sneaking around and stuff.”
    He frowned at me. “The only one sneaking around is you. And not doing a very good job of it, either.”
    I stuck my tongue out at him. “Meet me for lunch. We need to talk.”
    “I’m busy.”
    “Peter, I’m not kidding. I seriously need to talk to you.”
    He rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll meet you at our place at lunchtime. Don’t be late.”
    “I wouldn’t dreeeaam of it,” I said, reaching over to pinch his