Born 01 - Born

in three days."
    She sobs with her eyes closed. Her little face trembles. She feels like she did the first day I met her in the dark. Frightened and tiny against the massive world that wants to destroy us. It feels like nothing will ever change.
    I scramble over the bags of death. I don’t think about what I'm touching or doing. I climb to the edge of the filthy truck. I try not to imagine the diseases that linger on this metal ledge.
    "Don’t touch your face or anything until we can wash."
    Sarah sobs. Anna nods and watches Sarah.
    I sit on the ledge and feel the wind whip around me. If I close my eyes, I am in the back of the truck and my dad is driving. We are on a gravel road in the middle of nowhere and he lets me ride in the back.
    I grip the ledge and look back. "Climb on here with me."
    They listen and move quickly.
    We sit on the ledge together, gripping the metal and waiting.
    "When you feel the next sharp corner, we jump. Tuck your arms and legs and try to roll for the ditch. The truck will slow for the corner."
    The truck is moving fast. Not fast enough that we will die but fast enough that we may be injured.
    I feel the brakes hit hard and jerk us forward as the truck veers, and I shout, "Now!" My fingers try to grip but I force them to let go. I roll from the truck.
    I hear the screams faintly in the background of the pain and ringing noise. My body bounces on the gravel. Dust is everywhere. Sharp pains cover me. I feel my body come to a stop but my head feels like it's still rolling. Hot liquid is seeping from above my eyes. When it covers my vision, the world turns red for a moment.
    Through the blood I see a dusty haze. Sarah is picking herself up and pulling at Anna's arms. Anna shakes her head to straighten her vision out. They hop down into the ditch. They're shouting at me. My vision is clouded for a second. I see their faces screaming. I look behind me and see another ball of dust coming our way.It's another truck.
    I stand and run into the ditch. I dive between the thick grass and pull it over me. The truck roars around the corner, spitting rocks everywhere.
    I can barely hear it over the ringing in my ears.
    I turn on my belly and throw up. Blood mixes with my vomit. I'm not going to die here. I force my trembling and twitching body to crawl out of the muddy ditch. I drag myself up the bank and climb over some dead fallen trees.
    "Emma, this way." Anna is waving an arm at me. I can hear her, but she sounds like she is shouting in a can.
    I turn and stumble to where they are sitting behind some trees and bushes.
    Sarah has a cut on her face that looks like road rash. It's not deep.
    "Can you move everything?"
    She nods.
    Anna has no wounds I can see but she is favoring her right arm. It hangs funny.
    She looks terrified. "I think it's broken."
    "Okay, we need to get going. They can fix it at the camp."
    It's going to take us days to get back to the camp.
    "Can you walk?"
    She nods. "I have to walk, Emma. It's not if I can or not. I'm not going back there. We need to bandage your head. It's bleeding bad."
    I nod and watch her tear at her scrubs. She ties a dirty white bandage to my forehead. It stings.
    "Okay. I think it'll hold."
    I offer Sarah my hand. She takes it, and we start the long trek back to the building we've just left. I need to get my bearings and the trail back to the camp.

Chapter Sixteen

    I look around for a sign of them, but find nothing. I knew they would leave me but I never imagined they would leave me empty handed.
    They took my backpack even. I see the broken branches and can't help but smile a little. They may have left me but at least they make the walk back obvious.
    I point at the hillside in front of us. "It's this way."
    Sarah moans.
    I look at her and try not to snap. "We walk till dark. That’s the rule, okay?" My head hurts, and it's making me a little mean.
    She slumps and starts walking. We are filthy in our white and pale blue clothes that are now stained and torn. Dirt cakes our faces mixed with the dried blood. The cut above my eye needs a stitch. It's not going to get it. I'm going to have a deep scar there.
    It's hard to care when I made it out alive. I didn’t died there. I still block out the images of the torn bags and the things I saw in there. My little cut is nothing.
    My feet ache. The slippers are bad for hiking. I slip a few times. Anna is cautious. Her arm still looks funny.
    It takes all of our second day to get back to the place where I