Savage Run Book I

by E. J. Squires

  7

  “Life,” my father would always lecture me, “isn’t meant to be lived in the shadows of timidity. Man has a spirit of hope and faith.” I’m sure he would vehemently disagree with how I’ve interpreted his statement.

  Gemma and I elbow our way through the crowded streets toward the registration booth, clenching our fake IDs in our fists. The wind blows through my short hair, and the sun warms the back of my neck where my ponytail used to fall. It’s a few minutes before noon, the time the registration will close, but we should be able to make it just fine.

  Soon I see Pavlova Yard. The square cobblestone-paved area is enclosed by a large wrought iron fence, and dozens of Unifers stand at attention guarding the premise. There’s a canopy, and above it waves a red flag with an abstract yellow saber-toothed tiger head on it. There are two registrars that I can see. The woman, maybe in her forties, looks like she’s from the East, with slanted eyes and black hair. She has wide shoulders, muscular arms, and a flat chest. From the look on her stern face, I can only imagine that she’s had to fight her way to every promotion in this male-dominated field.

  The other registrar, a young man, probably in his late teens or early twenties, has tan skin and chestnut hair. He wears an expression of serenity, and I get the feeling that I’ve met him before. Hospital? No. I’d remember him. Maybe I made a delivery to him at some point.

  Three sturdy boys—undoubtedly the last of many here today—stand in the registration line, ready to gamble their lives for a chance at a better future. They’re handing the registrars their ID cards and signing something appearing to be a waiver or contract. I wonder what circumstances drove the boys to come here today—and if any of them are as desperate as I am.

  Then I notice at the end of the line stands Arthor, a boy from my primary school class. He still has the fiery red hair, but now it’s longer and curlier. Why did he have to be here?

  Then I realize why. Several years back, Tristan, Arthor’s older brother and an extraordinarily strong Laborer, competed in a regional Laborer obstacle course in hopes of winning food rations for his family. Every Laborer in our city cheered for Tristan, whose presence in the race somehow brought hope that good things could still happen to the subordinates of Newland. But he didn’t make it. Tristan drowned after falling from a hundred-foot cliff. His family was devastated, as were we all. Right after finishing school, when we still kept in touch, Arthor used to tell me how one day, he’d find a way to honor his brother’s memory.

  This is very bad for us. If he sees me, then he’ll blow my cover.

  “What?” Gemma asks when I don’t move forward.

  “Arthor,” I whisper.

  She gazes into the yard. “Oh, no.”

  “The only way around it is to wait until he leaves.”

  She nods.

  Once in a while, passersby stop to see what’s going on inside Pavlova Yard. A few haven’t moved from the fence since we got here. Looking closer, I recognize one of the lingerers as Arthor’s mother. She’s clenching the iron rods, pressing her face between the gaps in the fence, her attention fixed on her only living son.

  Eventually Arthor signs the paper and starts to walk away from the registration booth. Behind us, a throng of protesters enters the streets, waving their anti–Savage Run signs and chanting, “No, no to Savage Run! Keep the classes separate!”

  Taking advantage of the distraction, I say to Gemma, “Let’s go.” Walking toward the gates, I reach up to touch my locket, but when my hand is halfway up, I remember how it’s no longer there. I lower my hand.

  We approach the Unifer guarding the gate and hand him our ID cards. My heart beats so hard that I think he might hear it. Looking at us with haughty eyes, he hands us the cards back and tells us to proceed. Moving ahead, I glance at Gemma. But instead of a confident façade, her face is fallen and ashy and she’s white-knuckling her ID. With no time to spare, we pick up our pace and run toward the booth.

  Out of nowhere, a Unifer pummels me to the ground and presses himself on top of me so I can’t breathe. The attack is so sudden that I don’t even register a single thought before I react. I scream, and somehow manage to wiggle my leg free, kicking the Unifer in the groin. He rolls over, moaning and grabbing his crotch, his face contorting in pain. As quick as a cat, I hop back onto my feet and look for Gemma. To my dread, I find her pinned beneath two of Master Douglas’s Unifers, and they’re holding her at gunpoint.

  “Gemma!” I shriek, my heart jumping into my mouth.

  “Heidi, run!” she yells.

  The Unifers look up at me, and my initial thought is to flee the scene—abandon my mission. Save myself. One of the Unifers points at me and commands the other one to get me. In a split second, a moment so condensed I feel like the bubble of time might burst, I have to make a decision. Do I continue to run toward the booth and save myself, and maybe Gemma, too, by declaring that we both want to register? Or do I turn back and try to help her? The Unifers are so large, and they carry firearms, so I have absolutely no chance against them. But I can’t desert Gemma! Although if I continue toward the booth, I might be able to save her also by announcing she wants to register. If I try to help her, we’ll both be taken into custody and back to Master Douglas. Some seconds are so decisive that they have eternal repercussions.

  “Heidi, run!” Gemma yells.

  I spin around, hoping amnesty sets in the moment I declare that we want to register, desperate that I made the right choice. Instead of sprinting forward, I run into someone’s chest, and that someone grabs my shoulders.

  “What’s going on here?” a deep, direct voice says.

  I look up into his face and see that it’s the male registrar. Our eyes lock for a split second, but I look down quickly, afraid he might be able to tell that I’m a girl, disguised as a guy, trying to register for the Savage Run. A split second is long enough to recognize that he carries an aura of confidence and power—this is a man used to taking charge and staying in control. He’s built like an athlete: tall and muscular. Then, it hits me like a brick from the sky. The registrar is President Volkov’s son—Nicholas. I’m so done for.

  “I…we’re…we…we came to register for Savage Run,” I stutter.

  “Sorry, the registration just closed,” he says.

  I take a step back and look into his eyes again, pleading. “Please…just let us join. I know we’re a few minutes late, but this is a matter of life and death.” I glance over my shoulder and see the Unifer making his way toward me, and Gemma struggling against the others.

  “First of all, a scrawny guy like you shouldn’t be in this obstacle course. A stiff breeze would knock you over,” he says.

  I try not to grimace. If he only knew. “My friend and I, we have to join the program and you have to let us—it’s the law.”

  “Mai, come here,” he says.

  The female registrar makes her way over to Nicholas, her eyebrows lifted and her lips frowning. She’s wearing plenty of makeup and smells heavily of roses.

  “No, no, no,” she says, her dark brown, slanted eyes looking at me like I’m a lost kitten.

  “No, we have to register today,” I say. I hear Gemma’s screams behind me, and Nicholas looks in her direction.

  “What’s happening over there?” he asks.

  Unexpectedly, Arthor steps up beside me. I can tell he recognizes me by the way his eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. “Hey, what are you doing here?” His smile reaches all the way up to his green eyes, a touch of confusion in his brows.

  I feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach, but somehow I manage to give him an angry look, hoping he’ll know not to reveal who I am.

  “You’re coming with me,” I hear a raspy voice behind me say, as a strong hand grips my wrist. “You’re under arrest.” The Unifer grabs both of my arms and starts to haul me off.

  I turn to Nicholas, and in a last-ditch effort, I plead with him. “Please…”

  His blue eyes flicker for a spl
it second, and then he squints. I know I’ve already lost, and now I’ll be handed back to Master Douglas.

  “Wait,” Nicholas says. “This young man has declared that he wants to register for the Savage Run.”

  The female registrar’s eyes flinch as her pouty mouth drops open, but no sooner does she lose her composure than she has it back.

  Master Douglas marches toward me with another Unifer in tow. I stop breathing.

  “She’s mine,” Master Douglas growls. The crowd outside the fence is growing larger by the second as people stop and stare.

  A piercing blast rings through the air. I jump at the loud bang and try to wring myself free to look for Gemma, but I can’t budge. “What was that?”

  Master Douglas’s lips bend into a devious smile, confirming my deepest fear.

  “Murderer!” I yell, my arms and legs thrashing. The noise that escapes my lips sounds like the cry of a wounded animal. Everything I’ve worked so hard for doesn’t matter anymore. Not if Gemma’s dead.

  “He’s signing up for the program,” Nicholas says.

  Tears spill out of my eyes, and in a daze, I say that I am, though the words don’t seem to be my own, only someone else speaking for me. “And my friend—”

  “This girl is under my jurisdiction,” Master Douglas says.

  “He’s not a girl,” Arthor says. “He’s a friend of mine from primary school.”

  “And he’s here to register,” Nicholas says. “Plus, his identification clearly confirms it.” He grabs the card from my clenched fist and flashes it toward Master Douglas. “With all due respect, sir, you’re making a mistake.”

  “Don’t play me for a fool,” Master Douglas spews. “This girl is my housekeeper’s friend. She stole my housekeeper from me just earlier—I saw it—and she’s coming with me. You know the laws of the land, don’t you?”

  “Every last one,” Nicholas says through gritted teeth, his blue eyes turning black. He grabs my arm and pulls me toward him, away from the Unifer. I catch a glimpse of Gemma’s lifeless body as she is whisked out the gates by the Unifers. “They’re taking him!” I scream. “Don’t let them!” I try to wring free, but Nicholas holds me so firmly, I cannot. In fact, every time I struggle, his fingernails dig into my flesh, as if warning me to stay where I am.

  “The laws clearly state that once—” Mai interjects, ignoring my pleadings.

  “I know the laws,” Master Douglas says, grabbing my other arm and pulling it hard. “Obviously you don’t know the laws pertaining to the Savage Run because you’re about to sign up a girl. And even if she were a boy, he hasn’t signed up yet.”

  “Once a Laborer has declared that he wants to register, he’s considered the property of the Army of Newland.” Nicholas’s face turns red, and he jerks me behind him so Master Douglas loses his grip. My arms hurt.

  Master Douglas’s eyes go livid, but Nicholas steps between the Unifer and me. “We have a reporter from the Daily Republic over there who’s taking pictures of today’s events.” He nods toward the photographer leaning up against one of the flagpoles, snapping shots of our interaction. “All the images will be going back to my father. I know you used to work for him and were dishonorably discharged. If I have to report to him that you caused problems for one of our participants, making a scene at a Savage Run registration, it might not be such a fortunate thing for you.”

  Master Douglas scowls as he glares at me.

  “Don’t think you can threaten me, boy,” Master Douglas says, reaching for his handgun strapped around his waist. “Just because you’re President Volkov’s son doesn’t mean anything when it comes to the finite laws of this country.”

  “Rory, I need security here immediately,” Nicholas says into a small device clipped onto his shirt collar.

  Half of the Unifers guarding the fence run toward us and surround the registration booth, pointing their machine guns directly at Master Douglas and his Unifers.

  “I’ll be sure to tell my father what you said,” Nicholas says sarcastically.

  Master Douglas balks. “The second I get home I’m going to notify President Volkov of your illegal actions, and I’ll have you discharged from your position as registrar faster than you can say mercy. Mark my words.” He storms off with his two Unifers in tow.