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Chapter One: Found?
Elijah sighed as he looked around the city, his grey eyes not really seeing much of anything. He squatted down, cursing the boots they forced him to wear. No insoles allowed, damn bastards. Those black boots hurt his feet and the material of his uniform was barely any better. It itched every time he moved. He plucked at the drab grey front, fingering a black button. The sleeves were short, exposing his tanned muscular arms. He was one of the fittest Sentinels to oversee this area, and the youngest. Elijah sighed again and decided to head back to the station for lunch. It was a quiet day, after all.
“‘Scuse me? Mr. Sent’nel, sir?” a small voice piped up to his left, interrupting his train of thought. He turned his head and saw a small human child. He slowly wiped his hand down his face and attempted to smile. Probably lost, he thought grouchily. Tourists always seem to lose their kids beyond The Wall.
“Lost, little one?” he asked softly. He knew his voice would be loud to her small ears. The little girl shook her head and took a few steps back. Why were the Sentinels so big? She was craning her head back just to look at his strong face. His eyebrows were furrowed and his smile didn’t even reach his eyes. The girl swallowed nervously. He was still better than going back to the orphanage or Madam Margie’s.
“No,” the girl practically squeaked. “I was jus’ wondering if you’d be willing to spare some food?”
Elijah’s eyebrows shot up. She was asking him for food? Were her parents that bad? And where were they? He scanned the area, light blond auburn hair falling in front of his eyes. He looked back at the small girl.
The girl stuffed some of her messy black-brown hair behind her ear and began fingering her grimy dress. Elijah noticed it had quite a few patches and probably hadn’t been washed in a while. Her face was equally dirty. He again wondered about her parents. Suddenly her eyes locked with his, taking his breath away. He had never seen eyes like hers, although they were somewhat hard to make out as she was smaller than his pinkie finger. Her right eye was emerald green while the left was as blue as the sky. He couldn’t help staring. The girl looked down, shuffling her feet.
“Okay, thanks anyway, Mr. Sent’nel,” she murmured and started walking away. She wondered if there was anywhere else to beg for food. If she went back to the business district, they would just chase her away, leaving her tired and hungry. She was jolted from her thoughts as an enormous glove-covered hand blocked her path. She looked back to the Sentinel, eyes wild with fear.
“I never said no,” Elijah chuckled, trying to be as gentle as possible when he scooped her up. He could feel her shaking through his glove as he raised her to face level. In all honesty, he just wanted a better look at her. As she neared his face, he began to be able to make out a few more details. It looked like she hadn’t had a bath in quite some time, her hair hanging in greasy clumps around her head. She seemed to be completely covered in grime. His brow furrowed as he wondered who would let this happen to their child.
“What’s your name?” Elijah breathed. The girl in his hand jumped and backed to his fingers. Tears were starting to run down her face, leaving streaks in the grime.
“Zia,” she whimpered, trying to avoid his piercing grey eyes. She had always heard stories at the orphanage about the Sentinels. How they took the bad boys and girls and -- Zia didn’t want to think that. She wouldn’t think that.
Elijah could barely make out what the small child had said. He brought his hand closer to his ear and asked her to repeat it. Zia almost wished she was back at the orphanage. Almost. She knew if she was back there she be in Punishment. She hated Punishment. She felt his voice rumble through her even though he was trying to be quiet. Looking up, Zia noticed she was right by his ear. He probably didn’t hear me before, Zia realized. She tried to muster up some courage.
“My name is Zia Jones,” she tried to sound confident. Elijah pulled her away from his ear and back to his face. Now that he had her name, he could look up some information about her at the station. He glanced at his watch. Time for lunch, he mused, standing. A small yelp brought his attention to his unwitting passenger.
Zia couldn’t stop herself from yelping when the Sentinel stood up. First his head quickly disappeared above her head, leaving her looking at his chest, then gravity pulled her further down in his hand. What was he going to do with her? All she wanted was food. She wasn’t bad! She wasn’t! Tears streaked down her face and she whimpered quietly.
He was holding her at chest level now. She was so small. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this. He should put her back or take her home, but some part of him knew this was what was best for her. Cupping Zia close to his chest, Elijah started walking toward the station. Who was on Wall duty, again? Cliff, no, Mason. Good. Mason would let him through without any hassle. He was new, which meant Elijah could pull seniority. Unless General Sanders is with him, Elijah thought, frowning. General Sanders would never let him bring Zia in the station. He’d probably chew Elijah out for even picking her up.
Zia huddled against the wall of the Sentinel’s chest. Somehow, his unbelievably large heartbeat was calming to her. She cautiously ran her hand across the fabric of his uniform. She looked at the button a little to her left and scooched closer. She could see herself in it. Her mismatched eyes were wide and pale skin shone from the tears she had shed. The rest of her face was stained with dirt, oil, and grime. Her hair was hanging in stringy clumps around her head. I am not a bad girl, she told herself bravely. I don’t need to be afraid. Still, her heart skipped a few beats as her Sentinel started talking to another, his thundering voice snapping orders. Zia curled in a ball and sobbed quietly. She wasn’t a bad girl. She wasn’t!
Once Elijah had passed through The Wall, he relaxed a little. He started unbuttoning his uniform, almost forgetting his passenger until his fingers curled around her. Right, girl first, buttons later, he reminded himself. He undid his top button with his right hand anyway. He unlocked his apartment with his keycard and stepped inside, automatic lights turning on. As gently as he could, Elijah eased Zia away from his chest. She was curled in a ball now and more grime had been washed away by tears. He walked over to the sink and filled a small bowl with warm water and hand soap then set Zia and a small matchbox down next to it.
Zia looked from the Sentinel to the bowl of soapy water in front of her. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, smearing more dirt and grime on her face. Elijah just watched her, hoping he wouldn’t have to explain a bath. She didn’t seem as nervous of him, but he still didn’t want to do anything to scare her again. The smell of melon reached Zia’s nose and her mouth watered. She quickly glanced around before realizing that it was the soap that smelled so delightful. She looked back to the Sentinel.
“Food?” she squeaked, praying she wasn’t pressing her luck. His dark eyebrows raised in amusement.
“Bath first, then food,” Elijah chuckled. Zia faced the bowl again, hoping he meant what he said. So many grown-up didn’t. Like Miss Margie. She never meant what she said. Zia sighed and turned her back to him. She didn’t even hesitate before starting to take off her dress. Elijah almost didn’t look away in time. Either her parents hadn’t taught her modesty or they just didn’t care. Or maybe it was because he was so big, comparatively. Elijah pushed himself away from the counter she was bathing on to look for something for them to eat and took off his gloves.
Zia heard him walk away as she stripped. Her clothing, basically rags held together by luck and patches, lay in a crumpled heap beside the bowl. She climbed into the bowl via the matchbox. Elijah heard the small splash as Zia entered the water. He glanced over his shoulder looking at the forlorn little pile of her clothes. He walked back over and, without looking in the bowl, pinched the small garments between two fingers. He could feel some of the dirt rubbing off on his fingers. He held the tiny dress up to examine it and immediately knew that if he tried to wash it, it would fall to pieces. He looked at her remaining clothing. There was only a small panty between his fingers. The kid had no shoes! What kind of parent let their kid run around an area like that without shoes? He stomped over to the voice-activated computer mounted in the living room.
“Sentinel Elijah Bates, ID 77652,” he huffed at it. It immediately hummed to life, showing his ID and a list of his previous 50 requests. He completely ignored all of them.
“Give me all information pertaining to Zia Jones.”
The computer hummed for a bit, then displayed three lines of text.
Zia Jones
Age 7
Hornbeam Orphanage, Fedderton
Elijah balked. She was orphaned? But there was no mention of her parents whatsoever. No names, nothing. His hands balled into fists. They had abandoned her. Cowards, he thought turning from the computer. How could someone abandon their child?
Zia had heard him talking to something in the other room. Now he knew she was an orphan and where to send her back to. She swam to the edge of the bowl and tried to climb out. She slipped back into the now dirty water. This was not good.