Savage Run Book I

by E. J. Squires

  14

  We exit the hut and walk side by side toward the office. The cool breeze plays against my cheek as the moon shadows us down the path. Passing Unifers, every one of them salutes Nicholas. I can’t imagine what it would be like to command so much veneration or power. And it’s strange to be treated with regard by someone who does. Is it all part of his plan to get me to trust him so I am in his debt? Of course it’s a ridiculous thought because there’s not a thing he would need from me, is there? Yet, why is he acting so kind toward me, almost friend-like, if it isn’t to get something from me? Use me in some way? There can’t be any other explanation.

  Walking down the hill, we pass other participants along the way. I want to sink into the ground when they whisper and shoot me disapproving glances.

  “Just ignore them,” Nicholas says.

  I didn’t realize he noticed how uncomfortable their looks make me feel, but at least it confirms that I’m not crazy and making things up.

  “So tell me again why you decided to break the law and then break the law again by signing up for the most dangerous obstacle course known to mankind,” he says.

  “Well…I…uh…”

  “You don’t need to hide anything from me, Heidi. What we talk about is between us.”

  Precisely what a Master would say to make me open up, and later use what I say against me. Does he really believe that I’ll trust him just like that? Besides, it’s not like I even know what trust is; I’ve never lived around it or seen it in action, only fear and anger, and blame. Always the blame. Well, that’s not completely true. Ruth and Gemma I could trust, yes, but to think I could get to that level of trust with President Volkov’s son is outright ludicrous. Trusting a superior is something foreign—a mythical concept that doesn’t exist. A dangerous road riddled with pain.

  When I look at him, I see that his eyes are trained on my face.

  “Did I say something wrong?” he asks.

  “No.”

  “I’m President Volkov’s son again, aren’t I?”

  I feel a tinge of guilt like when we were on the aircraft. I brace my arms in front of my chest.

  “When I become president, I plan to restructure our entire society. No more hierarchical classes.” He studies my face as if trying to read my reaction. Is he just saying that to hook me, to trick me into trusting him? What does he want in return? If I’m not careful, I might fall for it—he seems so genuine.

  “That’s…great. Rather ambitious going completely against your father and grandfather like that.”

  “Ambitious. Now there’s one thing my father did right; he raised me to believe I can get whatever I want. I suppose I’m rather exhausting that way.”

  “That explains a lot.” The words just jump out before I can think. Nicholas seems to have that effect on me—making me speak my mind even when I don’t mean to. It’s both terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. But mostly terrifying. “I mean…”

  He starts to laugh. “Most people try to impress me or get something out of me. It would seem that neither of those are on your agenda.”

  I don’t hear any anger in his voice, but it doesn’t mean it isn’t there. “I’m sorry. I should be more respectful.”

  He stops walking. “Don’t change. Your candor is one of the things I appreciate most about you. Dealing with politicians these days, you never know where anyone really stands. But you’re not like that.”

  My father took most of my comments as insults although I rarely intended them that way. “Maybe if I were free like a politician, I’d be different.”

  “Freedom doesn’t change a person—only makes them more of who they already are.”

  I wish I were free.

  “You know the first thing the Unifers bombed when they started taking over your country?”

  “No.” We didn’t learn much about our country’s usurpation in primary school.

  “The Statue of Liberty.”

  “What’s that?”

  He smiles a little. “It was a statue of a robed female figure—an icon of freedom.”

  “Oh.” Of course it would be the first thing to go.

  “Freedom, I have found, is an illusion. Once you think you have it, you’ll realize that you’re still not completely free; no one is. It’s a perfect ideal never to be had.”

  I shake my head. “I think freedom is a gift, and what you choose to do with that freedom is what makes us completely free.”

  He shakes his head. “It’s okay—you don’t understand.”

  All of a sudden, I get the feeling I’m back around Master Douglas with his haughty demeanor. “Just because I’m a Laborer doesn’t mean I can’t figure things out.”

  “That’s not at all what I meant.”

  “Then what?”

  “That you’re still so pure and unspoiled from all the politics and corruption that soils our society. All I’m saying is that sometimes, it’s better to not have a choice—all that responsibility,” he says.

  Something occurs to me. He must feel the pressures of being the next in line for president. “Are you saying you’re afraid of responsibility?”

  “Sometimes. Sometimes the burden is so great…” He pauses and glances at me, then exhales before continuing. “And when mistakes inevitably are made, the one at the top is the one to blame.”

  “But it’s so much better to at least be free to make those mistakes.”

  “Perhaps to some extent.” The muscles in his jaw tighten.

  If he knew anything about a Laborer’s circumstances, then he wouldn’t be saying that. Is he completely ignorant to the way a Laborer lives? To how we have absolutely no say in our lives? Before I can say anything further, we’ve reached the office. The front doors part as we approach them, and Nicholas walks in ahead of me. After we get a new key, a Unifer drives us back to the Nissen hut and Nicholas opens my door without a hitch.

  He stands aside. “Mai and I will be back later to brief you about tomorrow.”

  I step inside the room, and the first thing I notice is the wooden bed—completely bare except for the thin pillow. Where’s the mattress? Even at home I have one. Not a very comfortable one, but I can just imagine the feel of the boards pressing against my back before sleep takes me. And the toilet—a hole in the floor just like Nicholas said. Back home I have a toilet. The room stinks of urine, and it’s cold. Goosebumps appear on my arms. I hadn’t expected my living standards to decrease when I signed up for this.

  “I know the accommodations aren’t exactly ideal.”

  “I’ll be fine.” I’m already shivering.

  “There’s a blanket under the bed. Mai and I will be back in a couple of hours for the briefing.” He closes the door and I’m left to myself.

  I should try to get some sleep. I lie down on the bed and squeeze my eyes shut, the boards cold and rigid against my back. My hands move to my chest, and I imagine my mother’s locket being there. If it were, then I’d caress the smooth surface, and it would send me to sleep. A few minutes pass, and my mind is processing like a high-performing computer. The thought of the computer reminds me of Sergio—stupid Sergio. Now I can’t get his Eastern Republic accent out of my head. Pteetsa. If only I were a bird, I could fly away. I wonder why he agreed to make those IDs for Gemma and me when he could have easily kicked us out and been done with it.

  Gemma. From the very innermost part of me, I wish I could go back to that moment, the very moment when I made my decision to run—the moment that killed her. I hear her voice screaming for me to run. “Run, Heidi, run!” I wipe a tear that runs down the side of my head toward my ear. I shouldn’t have run. There, I finally can admit it. A faint cry escapes my lips. She always sacrificed herself so I could get what I wanted. I knew that. Innately. And this time was no different. Just like the time she fell out of the tree and broke her arm. She was terrified to even get up in the tree. I could see it in her eyes and in the way her fingers trembled.

  But for some reason I had
to have her climb with me. It was always that way: me needing her more than she needed me. To do things with me. She was the one who gave me courage and meaning. And in the end she was the one who gave the most, not me. I selfishly just took it. Until there was no more to take. I feel another tear trail down from my eye. I made the wrong choice. I made the wrong choice! Why did it have to turn out this way? Why did I have to make that decision?

  I sit up. I can’t think about her right now; I need to remain emotionally stable and strong, the strongest I’ve ever been, like Ruth always told me. Never tire, she would say. If you tire, you die. But she doesn’t know what I’ve done. I’m sure she wouldn’t give me that advice now. I fall to the hard bed, pound my fists into the wood, and scream into my pillow.

  I can’t lie here anymore, driving myself crazy like this.

  I stand up and start to pace around the small room. I continue on with the mindless pacing for hours—I think. I can’t really tell, and I don’t bother to check the clock. At some point the door opens and someone slides a plate in, but I don’t eat it. I know I should, but I can’t. Instead, I try to figure out what I could have done differently. There must have been some way I could have saved Gemma and me both. But the conclusion is always the same. If I die, she dies. If she dies, I live.

  When Nicholas opens the door, my eyelids feel thick and swollen. I turn away so he won’t see me like this.

  “I’m here to brief you about tomorrow.” He closes the door, and the room smells faintly of cologne. “Heidi.”

  I swivel halfway toward him.

  “Is everything okay?” His voice is low, a hint of concern in his tone—or maybe it’s disgust.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look fine.”

  “Where’s Mai?” I ask, wanting the attention off me.

  “We ran late and President Volkov needed to meet with her.”

  I sit down on the bed, my eyes lowered, my hands stuffed between the wood and the back of my thighs. “So what’s it like, exactly, to be President Volkov’s son?”

  He seems to acknowledge that I need something, anything, to distract myself with. “What’s it like?” He moves deeper into the room and pockets the keycard. “No one has ever asked me that before.” He gazes out into the air, and his face goes stiff. “It’s always a power struggle. And I never feel like I’m truly free. Restricting.”

  What? I never thought being a Master would be restricting. And it sounds completely ridiculous when he states he’s not free. Our eyes connect for a moment, but out of habit I quickly avert mine.

  He continues. “It would be so freeing if I didn’t have to play by his rules anymore. But being his son, there’s no escape.” He sits down next to me on the bed. “What’s it like being a Laborer?”

  “No one’s ever asked me that before.” When he smiles, I smile. “It’s restrictive, too. Way more restrictive than it is to be a Master. I just feel…I mean…you know, don’t you?”

  “I have yet to visit a Laborer compound or associate with your class. You’re actually, believe it or not, the first Laborer I’ve spoken with—like this.”

  “You don’t have Laborers working for you?” I ask.

  “They’re all Advisors or Masters. Only the secondary Masters have Laborers working for them. Once one reaches a certain level, one only associates with Advisors and Masters.”

  I had no idea there were lower-class Masters.

  “Well, Mai and my father are waiting for me. So I need to brief you about the obstacle courses. Each obstacle has a shortcut or a safe zone, and if you uncover it, the obstacle will become much easier. Some of the shortcuts are easy to find, others nearly impossible. But I can’t stress this enough for you, Heidi. Find those shortcuts.”

  “What specifically am I looking for?”

  He exhales. “These obstacles are created to evaluate you in three areas: intelligence, physical aptness, and emotional endurance.” He sounds like he’s reciting a memorized message. “These obstacles are meant to kill—that’s why I didn’t want you to join. I hardly think even half of the contestants will survive. If you can manage the physical aspect of the obstacles, Heidi, I don’t think you’ll have any problem qualifying for Master status.”

  If. That’s all I have? A great big “if”? And aren’t the physical aspects of the obstacles like 90 percent of it? All I can think is how unfair this is and how President Volkov completely misrepresented what the Savage Run would be like. I should have scrutinized the Savage Run rules before I set out on my journey. Before I risked my life. And took Gemma’s.

  Nicholas stops by the door before he exits. “When you become free, what’s the first thing you want to do?”

  I noticed he said when. Right now, it doesn’t feel like when. It feels like never. But even so, my mind wanders toward the possibility. The opportunities would be endless, at least compared to the possibilities I had before as a Laborer. And it’s kind of scary, like there’s no safety net holding me back. I’ll be able to experience my first kiss, and have children if I want, and even have my heart broken—not that I’d ever allow any guy to get close enough to break it. “I’ve always wanted to…go dancing.”

  The right side of his lip twitches, and he nods a couple of times. “Well, good night then.” He closes the door.

  After I stretch out onto the bed, I lie awake, my mind churning with the question Nicholas asked before he left. What will I do first? And to that, I fall asleep.