“You’re not fooling me, medic, I know you’re not going to kill her,” Jeremin says, sounding rather sure of himself. “In fact, I think Val’s in on it too. Yeah, you heard me; I think she’s as guilty as you. But the thing I don’t understand is how you got Dirk roped in to all this. What’s your angle, Dirk?” Jeremin pauses for a second, waiting for an answer. “Eh, who cares; it’ll be over soon enough.” The transmission ends.
Perry looks down at the radar and keeps his eyes on the blips. He’s actually beginning to look concerned.
“What now, Perry?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer, his silence makes me even more nervous.
“Perry,” Val interjects. “Why don’t we toss our L-Chips out the window? I still have mine. It’ll throw them off our tracks.”
“It might slow them down a little, but they have us on radar now, they can see us as easily as we can see them.”
“Then let us jump out and leave the L-Chips inside the car,” Val says enthusiastically. “Evan can set it on autopilot, and they’ll follow the Wasp.”
“They’re too close for that now. By the time we slow down to jump out, they’ll be all over us.”
“We’re running out of options.” I say discouragingly.
“Well, there’s one thing we can do.”
“And what’s that, Perry.” I ask.
“I can go back,” he utters.
“What? What are you talking about?” Val objects.
“We’ll initiate the split sequence, you and Evan can keep going and I’ll go back, I’ll slow them down. It’ll give you enough time to get to the mountains and find my father.”
“No way, Perry! If anyone’s going back it should be me,” I say. “You’re more qualified to take care of Val than I am.”
Perry sighs softly. He peers out the front windshield, watching the road pass underneath us. “I should have joined the Resistance when I had the chance,” he says regretfully. “I could have fought along side my father, but I chose Willenger instead. I chose him and not my dad.” He turns around and looks at Val. “Don’t let your daughter become a Youth Nationer.” He reaches inside his pocket and pulls out a folded up piece of paper. He hands it to Val. “Give this back to my dad when you see him. Tell him I’m sorry.” He turns back and peers out the window again. “Keep heading for the mountains, Evan. Look for the clues. My father will find you. He has to.”
“There’s got to be another way, Perry.” I say anxiously. “Val needs you. We need you. We won’t be able to survive.”
“You will.” Perry hits the switch and the Wasp begins to split in two. The wind comes whistling through the fracture. “Good-bye Evan, good-bye Val! Raise your daughter well!” He moves his car away from us. The split is now complete, and the side door comes sliding down. We’re now two vehicles. Perry spins around and heads in the opposite direction. I look at the rearview monitor and watch him disappear from my sight. I take a short breath and hold it in for a second, and then I let it out. I can hear Val cry a little bit as she sits behind me. I grip the steering wheel and try to concentrate at the task at hand. I keep my eyes on the road and look for the clues.
Val finally breaks the silence. “Look at those mountains. Look at them; they’re huge. How are we supposed to find Perry’s father in that?”
I keep pushing the Wasp up the road as fast as it can go. We keep climbing higher and higher as the highway begins to bend and swerve. The trees are now taller, more magnificent. Cliffs rise on either side of the road blocking out any view of the horizon. Occasionally we pass an old cabin or something that once looked like a hotel.
Running next to the zig-zagging highway flows a mighty river. Its powerful current smashes against the rocks, cutting through the enormous mountain range. I’m beginning to doubt if we’ll ever find Perry’s father. Maybe we should ditch the car and hide up in those mountains or hide in one of those old hotels, but we have no food, no extra clothes, we’ve got nothing.
We come around a bend and there it is, the clue we’ve been waiting for. It’s an old forgotten roadside café with giant letters painted on its tall pointed roof. It reads: ‘Perry’s Place.’
“That’s it!” Val begins to laugh, “That’s got to be it!”
I slam on the breaks and come to a screeching halt. I grab the rifle as we climb out. I place Dirk’s L-Chip on the seat and Val places hers down as well. I lean in and punch in the coordinates on the control panel for the Utah border. I push the button for autopilot and the Wasp takes off down the road … without us.
We run to the café and look through the broken windows, but the place is empty, completely abandoned.
“Where is he?” Val shouts.
“I don’t know, I don’t know, Val?”
“Jeremin’s going to be here any second. He’s going to find us.”
I try not to panic. I look up and see the crags and the crevices in the cliffs. “Maybe we can hide up in there.”
We head over to the base of the mountain, but the rushing river blocks our path. There’s no way Val can jump it, it’s twenty feet across. But since I have the Youth Patrol Uniform on, it should be no problem for me. So I pick her up and leap over the river. We land safely on the other side. We head up the riverbank and up the mountainside. Then, we hear the Wasps approaching. We hide behind a dead pine tree that’s lying on its side. We look down on the road and see five Wasps pass by.
Val chuckles, “There they go. Looks like Perry got at least three of them.”
“Yeah, it looks like it.” My answer is melancholy. I’m happy we’re safe for now, but Perry is probably dead. He died for us, and for what–for us to have a few more hours of life? We stare down at the road and at the café and realize we’re alone. It’s just us.
“What are we going to do, Evan?”
“I don’t know, Val. I don’t know.”
PART 4
THE CAVE
CHAPTER 34
The partly cloudy day that started in the Gardens this morning is now completely gray. The air has gone from cold to freezing. Luckily for me, I have Dirk’s uniform on, it’s keeping me warm; it’s perfectly equipped for this kind of weather. But for Val, she’s miserable. She shivers violently, rubbing her bare sleeveless arms.
“Evan,” she says quietly. “I’m so cold.”
The Youth Nation travel suit she’s wearing is useless. It’s made for lounging around not for battling the elements. I have to get her warm before she suffers from hypothermia or whatever it is you suffer when you’re cold. I could start a fire with the incinerator function on my rifle. That would work, but I’m afraid Jeremin or the other YP’s would see the smoke. What to do? What to do? I put my arms around Val to try to generate some heat, but I doubt it’s working. We’ve got to find shelter fast. I look down the mountain and see Perry’s Place. It’ll be warmer inside there, but what happens when they finally catch up to the empty Wasp? They’ll double back to look for us. They’ll check every shelter along this road. I turn around and look up the mountain. We’ve got to go higher. We have to get as far away from the road as possible. Then, and only then, could I start that fire.
“C’mon Val, lets go.”
“If only Perry’s father was here,” she says dismally.
“I know baby, but he’s not.”
“He’s probably dead, isn’t he?”
“I don’t know, but we can’t think about that now. We’ve got to keep moving.”
Then, very faintly, we hear the whirring motors of the Wasps.
“Shit. Already?” I groan. “How could they have caught up to the other Wasp so soon? Ours was empty; it was lighter. It should have been faster.”
“Maybe that’s what clued them in,” Val says.
“Huh?” I respond.
“Think about it, Evan. How could a Wasp with two people go faster than a Wasp that’s carrying only one? You set it to go too fast.”
“Oh man,” I say, closing my eyes. “You’re right. How could I be so st
upid? I should have adjusted the speed to go slower. I’m sorry, Val.” I whisper, “I’m sorry.
“For what?”
“For all this.” I wave my hand at our surroundings. I think I even waved my hand at the sky.
“It’s okay,” she sighs. “I’d rather die here with you than live in Santa Verde forever.”
We watch the Wasps go roaring up and down the road, looking for us, looking for any clues of where we might have bailed. One lone Wasp pulls off the road and stops at the café. The chances of us being seen all the way up here are pretty slim, but we still duck down anyway. Soon all the other Wasps converge onto Perry’s Place. I wonder if they think the name has any kind of significance in all this. Could they have put two and two together and figured it all out? Or maybe, they just saw the damn skid marks on the road. The YP’s jump out of their cars and run over to the Café. They swarm the place.
“Why don’t they just leave us alone?” Val whispers, clenching her teeth.
Then one of the YP’s (probably Jeremin) spots something in the mud. It’s most likely our footprints. He calls for the others to come over. They seem excited by their find. They follow the prints to the riverbank and leap across the river and start climbing up the mountain.
“We gotta go,” I say to Val, coaxing her to get up, but she doesn’t move.
“You have the rifle, don’t you?” she asks as if in a trance.
“Yeah, right here.”
“Then let’s make a stand and fight. I’m ready to die.”
“I’m not.” I pick her up without her consent and begin carrying her higher up the mountain.
We finally get to the summit, but there’s still no place to hide. I frantically look around, but it’s useless. We’re sitting ducks. But from out of nowhere, I see something. It’s not a Youth Patroller, but a man. He’s black, tall, dressed in nylon camouflage, like an old soldier would wear. His face is rough and bearded. Where the hell did he come from?
“This way!” he calls out to us. “You’ll be safe with me!”
I hesitate.
“C’mon,” he says. “You don’t have much time! Those YP’s will be on you real soon. You can trust me.”
I look at him as if looking at him would make his statement true.
“Its Perry’s father,” Val exclaims. She jumps out of my arms excitedly. “It’s got to be him, it’s got to be!” She runs closer to the stranger. “Are you really him?”
“Him?” he answers. “I’m not sure who ‘him’ is.”
“Are you Perry’s father?”
The question from Val stuns the man. He seems to lose his balance and reaches out to brace himself against a tree trunk. “Is he with you?” he responds, looking around desperately, hoping to see a third person.
“No, he’s not, but he told us about you,” Val replies. “Can you save us?”
“Give me your helmet!” he says to me.
“What?” I answer.
“Your helmet, I have an idea.”
“Do it,” Val demands. “Give it to him.”
I reluctantly toss it to the man. He snatches it out of the air and turns it on.
“What are you doing?” I yell. “They’ll pick up our signal!”
“That’s what I’m hoping for.” He then takes the helmet and chucks it as far as he can. It clears the other side of the summit and down the other side. “That should keep them busy for awhile,” he says. “Let’s go.”
He turns and heads in the opposite direction of the helmet. We follow. He takes us down a small canyon that snakes around the mountain. We finally come to what looks like an old abandoned mine. A pile of rocks blocks the entrance. I assume it’s the result of a cave-in. But there’s a small gap at the top of the heap. Perry’s father climbs up the rocks and squeezes through it. He motions for us to climb up too. Val scales up the pile, with no reservations at all, but for me, I have some misgivings. But what am I going to do? Stay out here? I climb up and crawl inside. Once we’re in, we follow him down the mineshaft. It’s barely tall enough for us to stand. Canned goods packed in boxes are stacked everywhere. Old blankets and plastic tarps are thrown all over the place. Is this where Perry’s father lives? About 50 feet in, a large boulder blocks our path, there’s nowhere to go, but somehow, the man easily pushes it aside, revealing a small opening in the rock wall.
“Get in,” he orders.
I pause, but Val doesn’t. She goes for it, she gets on her hands and knees and crawls in head first straight into the narrow passage. But again I hesitate.
“C’mon!” the man insists. “You don’t have a choice.”
CHAPTER 35
He’s right, what choice do I have? I can’t go back, I’ve got to go forward. So I put my head down and climb in, but to my surprise, the narrow passage doesn’t stay narrow for very long. It widens and opens up, becoming more spacious. Perry’s father follows me in, and as he enters he reaches back and pulls the large rock back into place, covering the small opening. He’s either the strongest man alive or that’s a fake rock. But once the stone is in place, the little light that was coming through is now blocked. It’s almost completely pitch black.
“Drop your weapon Youth Patroller!” an angry voice calls out. Floodlights click on, filling the cave with blinding light. I instinctively cover my eyes with my left arm and reach for my weapon with my right. “Don’t even think about it!” the angry voice calls out again. I then hear an army of guns cocking. I do the smart thing and drop my weapon.
“Remove their L-Chips before someone tracks them down!” another man shouts.
I sense a group of people closing in on us.
“Stop!” Perry’s father yells. “They don’t have L-Chips. Look at their foreheads!”
“Then what are Youth Nationers doing out here?” someone else points out.
“Can’t you tell when someone’s defecting?”
“And how do you know that, Blake?” someone blurts out. “It could be a trap.”
“It’s no trap,” Perry’s father responds adamantly. “These two are definitely escaping. I saw how the YP’s outside were chasing them.”
“Is that true?” I hear a person directing a question at me. “Are you really leaving Youth Nation?” I try to see who’s speaking, but the light is still so blinding.
“Oh for goodness sake,” Perry’s father shouts. “Would someone please turn off the floodlights?”
They’re quickly powered down, but then industrial lamps mounted on the rock ceiling are powered on. They begin to ping and flicker; and a normal glow illuminates the cave. My eyes take a moment to adjust. I’m now able to have a look around. We’re inside the mountain, but this is no abandoned mineshaft. We’re inside an intricately carved out hideout. It goes on for quite a ways, splitting off in various directions, down dark ominous tunnels that lead to God knows where.
The ten or so people in here are dressed in old, faded clothes that are full of patches, but surprisingly their garments are clean. They’re not at all dirty like one would expect to find in a place like this. The people do their best to look tough in front of us, but there’s fear in their eyes, and why wouldn’t there be, I’m dressed in a Youth Patrol Uniform. But the thing that really stands out amongst these people is that they’re all armed with guns. They’re old guns, but they’re guns nonetheless. They have shotguns, pistols, old military rifles and each one is pointed at me.
Then, a short, fat pasty looking woman with crazy black hair pushes her way through the crowd; she doesn’t have a weapon, but she’s armed with a scowl. “Why are you here?” she screeches. “We have no children!”
“I-I’m not here for any children.” I stutter, sounding terrified, but it’s not really out of fear I stuttered; it’s from shock. The sheer ugliness of this woman makes me gasp. I can’t help but stare at her. I’ve never seen someone so hideous.
“But you’re Youth Patrol,” she continues to rant. “You take children, that’s what you do!”
“Enoug
h!” Perry’s father yells, taking charge of the situation. “Just stop it, all of you!” He turns to the ugly woman. “And you Mrs. Carlson, you shouldn’t even be up here. Go back to the living quarters.”
“But I heard all the commotion, I had to check it out.”
“I’m sure you did, but there’s nothing you can do. Please, go back. We’ve got it under control.”
But the ugly woman doesn’t obey. She stubbornly stands her ground. “But Mr. Blake,” she howls. “They could be spies.”
“They’re not, we already went through this.”
“But how can you be so certain,” she persists.
“Because I can!”
“How?”
“Because they said they were sent by Perry!”
“That doesn’t matter.” someone else interrupts. “Your son is a Youth P–”
“Don’t even say it,” Perry’s father says, wagging his finger. “Don’t–even–say–it!
Suddenly, a little girl around six years old comes skipping in. “I hate mommy, I hate daddy,” she sings happily to the popular Youth Nation lullaby. She’s oblivious to everything going on. “I hate mommy, I hate daddy.” She’s a plump little girl who’s wearing a dress that seems to be sewn together from discarded cloths and fabrics of different colors and shades. Her face is dirty, her hair is black and tangled and her eyes are wild.
“Where is she?” A chubby, tired balding man in gray sweats and worn out sneakers, comes running in after her. “Amy, don’t you go in there!” he cries out frantically as the little girl runs circles around him. “Amy, you stop this right now! I’m your father! You’re not supposed to be in here!”
The ugly woman begins to panic. “Charlie!” she squeals. “Get her out of here! Youth Patrol will take her away!” She looks at me in horror. “I’m not a religious fanatic,” she pleads. “I’m not. Yeah, I go to church, but I’m no religious fanatic, you’ve got to believe me.” She falls to her knees and grabs my ankles. “Don’t take her away! Don’t take my baby!”
“I’m not taking anyone away, I promise.” I pat the woman’s shoulder, reassuring her I’m no threat.
Youth Patrol Page 20
