Exchange Rate by Bonnie R. Paulson

as elaborate at the camp Mom had taken me to, but its purpose had been two-fold – keep people out and keep people in.
    We didn’t know if the fencing on the other side of those bushes wasn’t serving a similar goal. Escaping from a camp so heavily guarded would be impossible.
    Settling into our spots, we didn’t bother starting a fire or even wandering off to relieve ourselves. I think we all recognized the need to just be for a little bit. John passed out chunks of dense bread filled with oats, nuts, and honey.
    Mary had called the treat her ‘power punch’ of survival.
    Honestly, I didn’t care what it was called. The texture and flavor lulled me into complacency. At that second in time, I would give Mary anything in gratitude for the food she’d sent with us, even knowing she’d killed her own children. While her bread didn’t fill the never-ending hole, the heaviness of the raisins and seeds definitely took the edge off.
    I chewed as slow as possible. Bodey and John took their time as well. We didn’t speak, just chewed. Eating had become religious.
    Music filled the air, not loud and not thunderous but enough we could discern words and notes clearly.
    We jerked upright. I swallowed, whipping my head side to side, searching for a trap.
    Holding ourselves erect, we remained coiled and tense, like we would be ready to run any moment. Truth was, we wouldn’t be able to move if anyone had surrounded us. Tiredness ate at our strength like we devoured that bread – in whole chunks and with steadfast consistency.
    John tilted his head, searching the forest. “That’s an old classic rock song. Wow, I haven’t heard that since the eighties.” He stared into the branches over my head, unfocused as nostalgia rippled through him.
    I recognized the sensation, not the song, but the power of music.
    Bodey leaned back and bit off more of his bread. He nodded his head to the beat, relaxing. “Do you think everything else we’ve heard is true?”
    So far the music and the electricity rumors had been fact, not fiction. Would they have food? Would they be the start of a new government? Could we lower our guards and become part of the human race again?
    Anxiety crept over me, but that couldn’t be right. We were about to be safe. Nothing could go wrong.
    John reached out and patted us on the shoulders in an awkward hug that wasn’t uncomfortable just physically difficult with the distance between us. “Get some rest you two. I’ll check things out in the morning.”
    Bodey and I rolled to our sides, our bags a protection from wind – if there were any. Facing each other, we held hands, grass and twigs our bed. We positioned our faces close together. My skin tingled when we touched and lying next to him, I wondered when we’d have another chance to be together . For a moment, worry washed over me, overcoming the excitement being so close to him sparked. I whispered, “What if it’s like the camp Mom took me to?”
    He lifted his hand, trailing his finger along my cheek. Shivers slithered down my skin behind his touch. “Then we won’t stay. I won’t let anything happen to you, Kel. I promise.” My husband – how weird to say that – stretched up and kissed my forehead. “Get some sleep, like Dad said. We might be in a real bed tomorrow night.” He scooted forward, his warmth filling the front of me. A real bed. With my real husband.
    Could it get better than that?
    I was so tired, finding sleep wasn’t difficult.
    Chapter 9
    I would be lying if I claimed to have slept longer than an hour or two. The light made sleeping difficult. Hopefully, they would have some way to keep the sleeping quarters dark. For so long, I’d woken with the sun or watched our camp in the darkness for safety measures. Sitting in the well-lit forest when the sun wouldn’t be up for a while was disconcerting. I couldn’t convince my befuddled mind to accept the night time scenario.
    Sunlight finally softened the black sky. Once the