Chapter 233
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On Friday morning Eve and Tara both had off from work. They began talking about Mason's offer.
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Tara: Entire collective units have already defected. Maybe uniting against a common enemy wouldn't be the worst thing.
Eve: Maybe. But I'd probably have to kill some of them. And, war or not, I can't do that again.
Tara: Fair enough. I guess I'm just too much of a coward to go into battle again. Camp 81 isn't so bad, once you get the hang of it. At least with physical labor, noone's shooting at me. We could help each other you know, protect each other.
Eve; Against the guards and vultures?
Tara: Yeah, sort of. Or, if we had to, we could cooperate with them.
Eve: Do what you have to do Tara, I'm not judging. But my days as an informant are over.
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On Sunday March 11th Eve was in the kitchen helping to prepare breakfast. She had a later shift in the mines. It seemed that the price of a day off was working both jobs another day. Many of the christian prisoners wanted to eat right before church services. Eve seemed to remember that when she was a catholic her parents had her eat more than an hour before mass, or wait until after if was over. Eve wasn't sure if that had been merely a catholic tradition, or all the branches were outright ignoring it now. As Eve was in the kitchen she heard noises coming in. This made Eve nervous, after what had happenned. Eve's instincts were to flee. But before she could run, Miranda walked in. Eve would've looked the other way if Miranda took a small amount of food for herself. But Miranda started to talk to Eve.
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Miranda: Private Thompson, I've been looking over some files. I didn't realize that you were at St Patrick's, during the plague. We could use your help in the infirmary. Would you be interested in transfer?
Eve: Sure. I could help there.
Miranda: Excellant. All I want is your word, that you won't steal medicine, nor will you look the other way if someone else takes it.
Eve: You have my word. I won't steal, or turn a blind eye.
Miranda: I'm glad to hear it. I realize that, in such a limited space, you can't help but know some vultures. Your friend, Tara, for instance.
Eve: Tara's a vulture?
Miranda: That's what we suspect. Maybe we're wrong, but if you wish to work in the informary, I suggest you avoid her from now on.
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Eve was put to work in the infirmary that day, given off from the coal mines. She wondered if this was her only job now, or if she now had three. Most had double duty these days, to make up for those who'd just given up. Rumor was that both sides were using children to make bombs in factory-like sweat-shops. What bothered Eve was knowing her best friend in this prison was a vulture. She wondered if Tara had been one of those who assaulted her in the kitchen. Maybe she visited Eve in the infirmary out of guilt. Tara had been nervous before the election about Gabby's promise to lynch vultures. Maybe Eve's imagination was getting the better of her. She didn't want to judge her friend. Most people these days had survived by doing things they didn't like, perhaps were even shamed of. Eve decided that, for the sake of their friendship, she must avoid Tara.