Chapter 3: Stealing Clothes

Chapter 3: Stealing Clothes

Dawn’s hands were trembling as she gripped the steering wheel. She had driven far away from Saint Secundina’s, until the gas gauge told her that she would have to buy fuel soon if she wished to go farther. So she pulled over to the side and stopped. Then a delayed reaction set in and she began crying and shaking all over.

Eventually the shakes stopped. She looked around. It was a section of town with apartments. A few people were walking by, a few more standing or sitting on steps. Some were looking at her but making no move to approach her. Then she remembered that she was wearing a nun’s uniform. They may have known what that meant, or maybe not. She would have to get rid of it as soon as possible.

It had been easy to know what to do when she was a prisoner, being tortured and sexually abused daily. Escape! That was the only goal. And that she had managed. But what to do now? All she had was some vague notion of finding people who hated One World and the Church as much as she did. There should be an underground movement, or something.

Okay, she told herself. How do you go about finding the underground? The resistance movement, or whatever it called itself. There had to be something, somewhere. But that was not something she could just look up in the phone book. Who would know? The Guards, the police arm of One World? Maybe. But if they knew, then it would not be a very effective underground, would it?

Then something from history came to her mind. What group had traditionally been at the front of many resistance movements? What group was intelligent enough to understand the problem, and idealistic enough to want to do something about it? The university! A common source of radicals and rebellion down through the years.

Where to find a university? Dawn had been assigned classes in high school that would not lead her on to college, so she knew nothing about higher education. She was sure, however, that she had read in history lessons about them, and that they were a breeding ground for rebellion.

Seeking a university would have to wait, however. There were items with a higher priority. Like finding different clothes. And some money. Food would be nice, too. Little things, like those.

Maybe there is something I can use in this car, she told herself. The glove box held only some papers of no importance. There was nothing in the back seat, so Dawn got out and popped open the trunk. Several small boxes rested there. The first one surprised her. When she opened it, there was a gun, a .45 automatic in a holster. Next to it were several extra magazines and a couple of boxes of bullets. She had never seen any of the nuns at Saint Secundina’s wearing a gun, but the belt and holster looked very much as if it would go with the black leather catsuit that was their uniform.

The next box held five pairs of handcuffs and one set of leg irons. The third box had some rope, looking well used. She was not sure how the nun who had owned this car used these, but apparently she did. She put the belt around her waist and felt the weight of the automatic on her hip. It was somehow reassuring, even though she had no idea how to use it. When she closed the trunk lid she noticed the license plate. The number meant nothing to her but it reminded her that this was a stolen car and would soon be the target of a Guard search. She would have to abandon it.

Dawn had hoped to find a change of clothes or something along those lines. The gun might prove useful but she was not sure how or when that might be. Then a thought occurred to her. She got back into the car and headed down the street. It was not too long before she found what she was looking for.