Jackson by Leigh Talbert Moore

Chapter 16
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    T he next day, Gallatin was not in the barn for morning chores. I went to the back stall, but other than Bully running around his mother, the space was empty. I couldn’t neglect the milking, but I felt conflicted. Something new was twisting in my chest.
    I missed him. I wanted to suggest a creek run after lunch so I could get back on track and ask about the microchips, about their schedule for leaving. But to be completely honest, I just wanted to talk to him, to hear his voice.
    As it was, I’d have to work like we were back at the beginning, and I had nothing to look forward to but another day of labor. It was a good thing, I decided. It kept my focus on escape. My real escape that is, not forbidden trips to a hidden creek.
    I sat on my stool and gripped the teats, filling my bucket and emptying it into the churn, then going back and doing it again. The tone sounded and we all filed into lunch. Hamsters on a wheel, zombies in a pen. I’d grown used to seeing the men looking drugged and passive, the women keeping their eyes down. Only the occasional glance to me, the one who’d promised to do something. The one who’d once been a leader, and who’d since become distracted sneaking off with a guy. Maybe that was another part of their plan.
    Maybe they knew everyone was looking to me to help them, and Gallatin was their secret weapon to keep me under control. I stole a look at the guards watching over how much we ate, still fussing over us cleaning our plates like somebody’s grandma, and I refused to believe it was true. Everything in me rejected the idea of Gallatin pretending to care for me, of his using our trips to the creek to disarm me or keep an eye on me. He couldn’t have predicted the accident with the calf. Then a tiny fear crept in, the smallest shadow of doubt. How did I know he couldn’t? And where was he now?
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    T houghts of betrayal were heavy in my mind that afternoon. The idea of being used made my stomach hurt, it caused a pain in my heart I never expected and didn’t want to feel. Yet my logical mind insisted it was for the best. If Gallatin’s friendship was fake, it would be easier for me to use him right back. If I got him to admit everything was part of some kind of spy game or method of control, I could ask him about the chips and the mass graves without remorse.
    Only I did feel remorse, painful remorse. I was sad and miserable. I longed for my new friend, my...
    I wanted Gallatin to be truthful.
    What had that guard told the men about what was happening here? The thing that had them all believing in little green men? I wanted to find Braxton and ask him about cutting ropes with only their eyes—the things D’Lo had said—and see if they matched. But Braxton wasn’t in the yard that afternoon. I didn’t see him anywhere. Flora was in the grove, but my brother was missing.
    I ran around the yard, to the shed, down to the fence line. Finally, I went to the dorm. That’s where I found him in his bunk, lying on his side with his back to me.
    “Braxton?” I placed my hand on his shoulder. “Are you sick?”
    “Leave me alone, Prentiss.”
    His voice sounded like he might be crying, so I leaned over and placed my cheek on his shoulder.
    “I’m working on it Braxton. Just give me one more day, and I’ll have what we need to know.”
    “It doesn’t matter what you know. It doesn’t matter if we leave. Nothing matters anymore.”
    “Don’t say that, Brax. I’m still here, our family matters.”
    He leaned back and looked at me. “If you get out, go find Mamma’s people. Our family over in Mendenhall.”
    My eyebrows pulled together. “I don’t know any of those people. What would I do there? Just show up on their doorstep?” His shoulder dropped, and I hugged him. “Stop that talk. You’re gonna come and live on the farm with me and Jackson.”
    “There’s no more farm. There’s no more Jackson.”
    “Yes, there is!” I sat