{Milla}

“Milla! Help me keep the sheep in line!” Ms. Whitaker yells from the barn out back, wakin’ me from my sleep. I mumble to myself angrily as I roll out of bed, tired and not wanting to start another day. I throw on my clothes and jacket and head to the door.

“Yeah, I’m a-comin’. Don’ worry.” I walk outside, shielding my face from the light, making my way through the grassy patch to tend the sheep in the barn out back. It’s annoyin’ as hell, but someone’s gotta do it, and obviously, that someone is me.

“Milla Tenworth, get over here, I can’t keep them in line to be sheared.” Well, that may be ‘cause you ain’t never tried afore, won’t it? But I don’t say that. Nope, I’d be put on probation for weeks if I did.

“Yeah, I got it. C’mere sheep!” The first few trot over, making sheepy sounds, baaing all over the place. (Shut up, “sheepy” is so a word, so long as I’m concerned.) “Yeah, yeah. Cool it. You’re annoying Ms. Whitaker.”

“Baa!” they bleat in unison.

“Baa yerself. Now, time for a shavin’, how’s about that?” I pull the shears off the wall, and get down to work. They don’ mind me, they like me. They also like getting shaved, so long as you leave then a nice coat. They jus’ hate Ms. Whitaker ‘cause she’s mean and rowdy and yellin’ all the effing time. She can’t calm down, s’all. I look at the sky, basking in the light from the suns as I work. All three of ‘em.

See, I live in a town called Neo Elizabeth, on a world where us humans ‘scaped to when stuff got too bad on Earth. Good ol’ Planet Earth, the elders say. I say sucks to Earth; I ain’t never seen it. Never will. Not like I care. Life here on Genesis ain’t bad. You got your creatures, some funny, others mean as hell. The crocs even crawl to shore just to goof off. The people…well, I’m guessing nobody was picked to come for bein’ too nice. Anyway, I finish the sheep in a few minutes, no problem. I carry the wool into my house, dropping it on a table for Ms. Whitaker to pick up later.

“Milla! Breakfast is ready!” Yes! It’s been a while since I had some breakfast that wasn’t a few slices of toast. I strap my trusted shovel to my back and pick up a book. (So what? I like my shovel, so shut yer mouth.) When I arrive at the table, I set my shovel to the side and dig in to my eggs and toast. Bliss!

“This’s good!” I talk around my food, and Ms. Whitaker looks appalled.

“Don’t talk with food in your mouth, Milla! Be a lady!”

“Eh.” I shrug. “Don’t too much care for manners and the like. Ain’t like nobody’s ever gonna come to Neo Elizabeth.” Ms. Whitaker sighs this funny sigh. Like “I give up”, ‘cept she doesn’t say nothing.

“It’s ‘It’s not like anybody’s going to ever come to Neo Elizabeth’, not ‘Ain’t nobody’.” Oh, man. More lectures. Swell.

“Yes, more lectures.” Huh? I didn’t say nothin’. How’d she… “Wait… You…didn’t say anything, did you? Then what did I…? Oh, carp. This isn’t good. No, not at all.” Huh? What is she talking about? And why can I hear my thoughts out- Oh, man. No… No WAY!

“No… Th-that’s not possible. Ms. Whitaker, it’s impossible, right? I-I can’t have it, can I?” I can’t help but think ‘No.’ over and over again.

“Milla… Milla, I’m so sorry.” No. No, no, no, no, no. It ain’t possible. There’s no way it’s possible.

Oh, God, no. Please, not Milla too! Please, please, PLEASE, not my little girl. This can’t be HAPPENING. Lucky guesses, that’s all they were. Yeah, I’ve been around her for so long, I know what she’s thinking, that’s all. Ms. Whitaker’s voice is muddled but clear enough to hear, but her mouth isn’t moving. I blink, backing into a wall.

“Too? What do you mean? I do NOT have it! Do you hear me? I DON’T HAVE ANYTHING!” I fall to my knees, holding my head with my hands. I have to. If I don’t, it’ll fall apart. Because it’s not possible. I’m dreaming, right?

“You’re not dreaming, Milla. You have to leave ASAP. You’re in danger.”

They’ll kill her. No, I can’t let that happen to my little girl. She may not be my biological daughter, but Milla is MY child, and they’re not going to do ANYTHING to a hair on her snarky, smart-mouthed, beautiful head. Not while I’m alive. She… Ms. Whitaker… She can’t think I have the disease, can she?

“YER LYIN’! I DON’T HAVE IT!” But…that’s a lie, ain’t it? ‘Cause I DO have it, don’t I? I just read her mind on accident, didn't I? So I have Exodus. The worst disease here on Genesis. The only disease to rob you of your privacy, one that hides until you get old enough. The one that causes the carrier's thoughts to be leaked out into the world as Waves of thought and forces them to hear others' thoughts as well. The one that’s thought to be contagious. The one that is a risk for anyone under fifteen years, ninety-five days old. And I’m gonna be executed. ‘Cause Neo Elizabeth don’t take kindly to carriers. Not at all.

“Here, this should last you about five or six months. Maybe more. You have to escape, Milla. Your bag’s been packed with non-perishable food. Don’t question it, just RUN!” She hands me a wallet full of money.

I…I packed a bag because it was always a possibility, but…Why do I have to let my child go? Exodus doesn’t appear after someone hits fifteen and ninety-five days, right? But…she turned fifteen ninety-two days ago, so why did it show up NOW, of all times? She had three days left, dammit! THREE GOD DAMNED DAYS! Tears stream down Ms. Whitaker’s face as she helps me pack to leave. I can still hear her anguished thoughts, but she stays physically silent. It's weird, because it's like the voice is being put through a speaker. A bad one at that.

WHY IS TIME MOVING SO FAST? Milla…I don’t her want to be left here… Not in this craphole of a town…So I’ll buy her time. I’ll buy her time as a mother would their daughter. They won’t get Milla, not until I’m dead. Dead? I ponder this while Ms. Whitaker goes upstairs to where we keep supplies, and comes back down several few seconds later with a rifle.

“Ms. Whitaker? Wh-what are you doing with that gun?”

“I can hear them.” Oh, God, no. Milla, if you’re reading me right now, I just want you to know something. You’re my child, whether I gave birth to you or not. So live in my stead, get out of here. Because I likely won’t. The back door is still open. You need to- DAMMIT! A sharp crack erupts from outside, and I recognize the sound of a semi-automatic rifle. The ones used for execution of criminals.

“Yes. As far as they’re concerned, you’re a criminal. Now RUN!” I make a break for the door, running away from the booming voice of our Mayor.

“WHERE IS THE GIRL?! I can hear her thoughts from my house!” Another crack. “Where is she?!” Ms. Whitaker goes into the back room, sending me off.

“Milla…” That one word, my name, says all she needs to. How she loves me, though it didn’t seem that way all of the time, how she’ll miss me, and…it says goodbye. For good. I won’t see her again.

Oh, God. I can’t believe this is happening. Milla, run. Run like hell. And I do. I run full speed across the plain, headed for a forest near the house. I hear more cracks, and shouts of anger from the village people as they scramble out of the house, tending to bullet holes in arms, legs, and sometimes dragging out people beyond saving. And I can hear their thoughts.

Kill the girl. Kill the girl. Kill the girl. Liz said so, so kill the girl.

The chanting never stops, but they don’t stop coming, neither. I mean either. I’m gonna try to speak proper, for Ms. Whitaker. But their FACES.

Not Ms. Whitaker, Milla. Call me Jess. And yes, I see their faces. They're so...blank. Tch. They're at the door, RUN!

Okay, Jess. I hope you put up the best fight EVER. I hope to whoever’s-up-there-assuming-someone-is that you do.

Oh, I-HOLY- Okay, just…WHERE THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING, HUH? More cracks. More wounded. And in her head, I can hear a shriek of pain from Ms…I mean, Jess. A bad one. I keep runnin’. I just pump my legs and run. And I hear it before I see them.

LIZ AND HER DELINQUENT SON ARE AFTER YOU! GET TO THE WOODS! Ack! Well, looks like I’m cornered. This is where we say goodbye, Milla. Maybe we’ll meet in another life. But try to hold that off for as long as possible, okay? Goodbye Milla. My only child. My only hope for this damned world. Another crack, and there was a silence that seemed to eat up everything. Ms. Whitaker, I mean, Jess… She was gone. And I’m not getting’ her back. “I hope you put up the best, most amazing, most awesome fight ever, Jess. I really hope you did.” I whisper to myself. I made it through the woods. I’ve escaped. But…Liz is after me, so I can’t- Wait…

Damn useless kid! “Get the girl, you moron!” Why did I have kids in the first place? “I’m trusting you this time, Sam. Now GET IT DONE.” This time, I hear Sam’s voice.

Mom trusts me? Okay, I can’t screw up this time. This time, I’ll make her proud, and prove that Dad was wrong to leave. That’s worth the life of one carrier, right? Of course it is. He sounded serious. Envious in a way, even. It’s like his one dream in life was to make Liz happy. What am I doing? Thinking too much is just gonna get me caught. Fishing through my bag, the one Ms. Whitaker packed for me, (Yeah, I know her name is Jess. But she’s my mother of sorts, so I’m gonna call her how I remember her.) I look for anything that might help. And sure enough, I find a map. A map of Genesis. And circled is one city in particular.

“New Eden? Geez, that’s fa-” Crack! A gunshot goes off in the distance, and I force myself to run. The whole way, I’m apologizing in my head to Ms. Whitaker, who gave her life for me. She died, and it’s all my fault, my fault, my fault, my fault.

I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, sorry, sorry.

I’ll come back one day. I’ll come back and tend the sheep like we used to, I’ll cut the grass, and till the wheat. I’ll try not to say ain’t, and I’ll try to be more ladylike. Are you hearing me, Ms. Whitaker? I miss ya already. I’ll live, all right. I’ll live the way you woulda wanted me to. So rest easy, Ms. Whitaker. ‘Cause I’m gonna be back sooner than ya think. But for now, I gotta get to New Eden. ‘Cause that’s where you told me to go, and I trust you more than I trust my own self. Because I know you didn’t betray me. So wait for me, Ms. Whitaker. I’ll be back at our house in no time. No time at all.

While I run, I hear something behind me. And some thoughts that I drowned out.

TENWORTH! Oh, carp, it’s Sam. There’s nothing I can do but run now. I take off full speed, but I KNOW. I know it’s not enough. There’s only one thing I can do now. I’ve escaped Neo Elizabeth with my life, so I can’t get caught now. So I whistle. I whistle loud and clear. Sam can hear it; I know that. But I have a secret weapon. And I can hear its thoughts.

Milla? Running away, Milla? Help, Milla?

“Yup, you’re gonna have to help me run.”

The bushes rustle, and a lizard the size of three crocs stacked comes bowling out. It roars, and opens its jaw.

“Go, Milla?”

“Yup, let’s go.” Oh, did I mention that crocs can talk on Genesis?

My fingers unclenched, and dropped the piece of stone, letting it shatter on the floor. But I had done it. There were now one-hundred and thirteen inch-deep scratches on the wood wall beside me. I slumped to the hard, stone floor and sighed once more. One hundred thirteen days. Almost half a year now; half a year since I had last saw my parents or for that matter, the clear blue sky that shown everyday in Touse, New Mexico. The day I was kidnapped came flooding back like a hideous shadow, engulfing my mind, and soul.

I was walking home my head down, avoiding the harsh sun, but missing the sidewalk as well. I had been to the store picking up some bread for Keira, my mother. I had walked two blocks and had just turned on to the narrow alley way that lead to the run down shack that I once called home. I wish I wasn’t so stupid, truly. Out of the bushes, a figure the size of a grizzly bear erupted and knocked me to the ground. Snatching my wrists and bending them almost to a knot, the figure whispered a single word.

“Mia?”

The word frightened me. It was the nickname that my father had given me as a petty little child. But I was seventeen, and he was dead. He had died from a heart attack in front of my eyes.

The man whispered it once more, “Mia?”

I would not answer. Not to that, never. After the strange man asked again, he did not let me go. I was thrown into the camper shell of a pick up truck and driven to a secluded area in the desert- at least five miles out. I felt around in the truck bed for a latch or anything to help myself, but nothing. I put my hands around my legs, and brought them to my chest. Moments later, I was thrown out on the ground by a bump, with glass littering my face. My foreheads was mangled by the glass, and seemed to sting like a sun burn. The truck swerved around, the driver realizing his mistake in not latching shut the door. I tried to run. But the man leapt out of the vehicle and charged towards me with growing ferocity. I couldn’t keep running. Turning to face my assailant, I noticed me still had on the black mask from earlier. Knowing not what to do, I stopped and lunged out with my left leg, aiming for the man crotch. I missed, narrowly. He bounded over my kick, and shot towards me like a bullet. I blacked out as his enormous figure rocketed my skull towards the ground, almost cracking on impact.