The Liberty Box Trilogy

by C. A. Gray

I narrowed my eyes at her. “There’s no shame in accepting a little help, you know.” I was referring to more than the doe.

  She looked at me for a long moment, and for a second I thought she might cry. But the expression vanished, and she nodded without a word, moving aside to allow me to do the job.

  Okay, I thought, reviewing what I knew. She’s going to Friedrichsburg tomorrow to catch the bullet train. I’d have no trouble following her that far. But in case I lost her, I still needed to know where she was headed after that.

  “So… how far inland were you and Will living from here, when you were still in the Republic?” I asked, keeping my tone light.

  Kate thought for a moment. “We were…” she drew in the loose earth with her bloody finger. “So Beckenshire is here.” She drew an X. “Friedrichsburg is probably around twenty miles in, here.” She drew another X, northeast of us. “The caves were… I don’t even know, what have we gone, a hundred and fifty miles on foot by now? Over here somewhere.” She drew another X, quite a ways east of either of the others. “Will and I lived in Dawvish, and when I fled, I caught the bullet train there on one of the main loops, all the way to Jarrow. That dumped me out here, on the southern border of the Republic.” She drew an X not far from the X that represented the caves. “I wandered on foot into the forest around there, and happened to be close enough that Nick found me and took me to the caves.”

  I nodded. “So your family you said was an hour inland from you… what, up this way?” I drew with my finger directly north of the X that represented Dawvish.

  Finally Kate sat back on her heels and stared at me, hard. “Why so interested in my family’s location?”

  I shrugged. “Just trying to get an idea of the general layout of the Republic.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Truth or a lie, Jackson?”

  I laughed. “My, how the tables have turned!” I leaned back over the doe with the hatchet to open the ribcage next, but Kate scooted back forward and reached for it.

  “I can do that part.”

  I surrendered the hatchet to her, watching as she blew her hair out of her eyes while she worked, and wiped her brow with the back of her arm. Finally I asked, “Are you trying to prove your toughness to me, or to Will, or to yourself? Because something tells me you’re not actually this kind of girl.”

  She glanced up at me, then back down at the doe, and she winced as she split open the ribcage.

  “I’m not,” she admitted. “I—don’t like killing things,” she emphasized don’t with a downward stroke, “and I—hate being dirty, and I’m—grossed out by innards, and I—like being taken care of. But that doesn’t serve me or anybody else in this world, does it?” She sat up, panting, her hands covered with gore. “What I like doesn’t matter in survival mode. I’m not gonna be Violet or Rachel.”

  “No. You never would be.” We just watched each other for a moment, like a staring contest. Finally I added, “And for whatever it’s worth, I’m a lot more impressed that you’re doing it for that reason, rather than pretending to be something you’re not. It shows character.”

  She blinked at me, like she didn’t know what to say to that, and looked away.

  Okay, I thought. She’d probably follow us at a safe distance tomorrow morning… or maybe she’d head to Friedrichsburg before we left, I didn’t know for sure. I’d probably have to sleep near enough to Kate tonight that I could see when she got up. From Friedrichsburg, she’d catch a bullet train in the general direction of Dawvish, and I should be able to track her from there. Maybe by then I’d just make my presence known to her, since she’d be stuck with me after that anyway.

  Aloud, I said, “Nice job on the cleaning. Let’s cut up just a portion of the meat for dinner and drag the rest back—I’m sure everybody’s hungry.”

  Chapter 17: Kate

  I didn’t sleep much that night. Will and I weren’t sleeping beside one another ever since I’d told him we needed to “slow things down,” but last night I’d positioned myself near enough to him to notice when he left in the morning. I jarred myself awake every few minutes, just to make sure he was still there.

  It wasn’t that I needed to follow the hunters to find my way to Friedrichsburg; I was pretty good at directions, actually. The Potentate mandated that teachers drill the geography of the Republic into their pupils, so I could still probably draw a fairly in-depth map of the entire country by heart. I just wanted to time my departure well: I had to be far enough behind the hunters that Jackson wouldn’t notice, but early enough that the others back at camp wouldn’t be awake to ask questions about where I was going.

  At last, I heard Nick’s footsteps on the concrete nearby. He passed right by me on his way to shake Will awake. I opened one eye, watching.

  “Time to go,” Nick whispered.

  “Ugh,” Will groaned. He glanced up at the moon, and so did I. It was still high in the night sky. “You’ve gotta be kidding me! Now?”

  “Now,” was Nick’s reply. “We’ve got a long way to go.”

  Will shifted beneath his blankets for a resistant moment I knew well, but finally I heard him get up and follow Nick. They made their way over to where Jean slept to wake her, and then over to Alec. I never saw where Jackson had settled for the night, but presumably he was already awake somewhere, waiting for them.

  I waited about ten minutes after their footsteps had receded, assuming by then that they were safely gone. Then I opened my eyes, and crept out of bed too, tiptoeing over to where Nelson slept. I knew from overhearing him talk to Brenda that he still had the government ID card among his belongings that he’d gotten from Kenny on the hunters’ first raid. He slept beside a satchel of his personal affects, and I found the ID card easily in a pocket on the inside. Nelson snorted once, and I froze—but he didn’t move again. I pocketed the ID.

  My plan was to take the bullet trains once I got to Friedrichsburg, since Will had apparently deemed that safe (at least until the Potentate updated the databases of government personnel)… especially with a jammer, which should block my brainwaves from detection. But I still needed an ID card to get on.

  Molly and a few of the others had found a bunch of camping gear in one of the houses—that was how she’d set up the oatmeal over the open flame yesterday. Among the camping gear I thought I’d seen a few iodine tablets… yes, I thought to myself as I found them. I’d have to take some water with me in a canteen, but it wouldn’t be enough for the day and a night’s journey I had to Friedrichsburg. I knew there were streams in the forest like the one where Jackson and I had caught the fish a few days before, but I was pretty sure the reason I’d gotten so sick the first time I’d fled the Republic was because I drank contaminated water. I wanted to make sure I didn’t repeat that mistake.

  Next, I raided the food stash, since I had no idea how long I’d be gone. I felt a slight twinge of guilt when I took the last of the berries that Rachel had gathered with Brenda the day before—but, I reasoned, they would be here all day and able to gather more. My need was greater than theirs. I stuffed the extra food into a satchel I’d taken from one of the houses earlier in the day. It had straps so I could carry it on my back. That was nice.

  Then I raided the stash of weapons. The hunters had taken quite a few with them, but I saw to my surprise that the gun Jackson had taught me to shoot with the day before rested right on top, along with the box of ammunition it needed.

  Strange, I thought. That was the one he’d said was the best compromise between accuracy and ease of concealment for transport. Why would they leave it behind?

  But I strapped the weapon to my waist, grateful it was there, regardless of the reason. Then I pocketed the ammo too.

  When I got into the thickest part of the forest, I had to fight my fear.

  It was pitch dark.

  Nobody knew where I was.

  There were bears in here. Jackson and I had found that out.

  All I had was a general directi
on, but how did I know for sure that I wasn’t turned around, getting more and more lost all the time?

  What am I doing? I thought, trying not to hyperventilate. Panic wouldn’t help anything, but I still felt my breath coming in short, shallow gasps, and my fingers began to go numb. I’m going to die out here. I’m going to starve to death or get eaten or get another infection, but there will be no one to find me this time…

  Stop, Jackson’s voice commanded me. I obeyed: instead of taking another step, I crouched down to a squat, hugging my knees to my chest as if this might protect me. Breathe.

  I tried to remember what Jackson had said to me the first time we’d really talked, when he had brought me a breakfast of root vegetables in the caves. He’d said something about how even when emotions are reasonable, they’re not always beneficial… what was it?

  Emotions that are healthy are those that help you see something that’s real and react to it accordingly. That’s what he’d said. Then he’d told me about his capture when he’d first arrived in the Republic; how he’d fought the first time and been overpowered.

  “When I woke up, I was angry,” he’d said.

  “Seems reasonable to me.”

  “Sure, the emotion was, but not what it made me want to do,” Jackson said. “Anger is an aggressive emotion. It makes me want to fight. I did fight at first, but I lost—that’s how I ended up in the chair in the first place. I could have fought them all off again when I woke up, but I had to stop and ask myself, was that course of action in line with my ultimate goal of escape? No. The odds were too stacked against me. So in that case, my emotions prompted me to take an action that was inconsistent with my reality. Once I recognized this, I had to master it instead.”

  Okay. Okay, I thought. I’m afraid. Maybe I have good reason to be, but the emotion makes me want to panic. Is panic consistent with my ultimate goal of getting to Friedrichsburg?

  Of course not.

  I still didn’t move, clutching my knees and breathing deeply, the way he’d taught me. I didn’t see what good it did me to decide an emotion wasn’t helpful, though. It wasn’t like I was in control of how I felt.

  Truth or a lie, Kate?

  If I wasn’t in control of my emotions, who was?

  I stood up again, squared my shoulders, and shivered, pulling the sweater more closely around my shoulders.

  There was nobody here to rescue me this time. I could have a meltdown and perhaps die here in the wilderness… or I could decide I was going to live, and do what I needed to do to make it happen. Maybe the Kate Brandeis I’d been for the last twelve years would have chosen the meltdown… but I owed it to little Kathryn to finally become the girl that she always intended to be. Before the brainwashing. She wouldn’t need anybody to help her or give her permission. She wouldn’t need rescuing. She would hunt and kill and clean and eat all by herself. She’d be able to defend herself. She’d keep her wits about her and navigate her way through this forest successfully. I knew she would.

  She’d have been just like Maggie. My former roommate, who was finally caught and killed by the Potentate’s firing squads. Alec made her sound almost mythical. I owed it to Maggie to shake off the trappings of the damsel in distress I’d become as a result of the government brainwashing, and to take up her mantle. And if she’d had the kind of platform I had, she would use it, whether or not the rest of the group she was with thought that was a good idea.

  Of that much, I was certain.

  I tried not to think about my predicament too much after that. I shot and killed a rabbit for dinner that night: I was stunned and a little devastated that I actually hit it, but I was hungry and I needed to eat and that was that. I pulled out a knife from my pack, and recited the steps in my head of skinning and cleaning larger game, trying to figure out how that translated to a creature as tiny as a rabbit. I probably butchered the poor thing, but I succeeded in getting meat on a stick and roasting it over the fire, which was all that mattered, really. Then I refilled my canteen from a stream nearby and decontaminated it with the iodine tablet before I touched it. I drank the whole thing in one gulp, and filled it again, putting in another iodine tablet. I splashed my face with water from the stream and instantly regretted it because it was so cold—but at least I felt a little cleaner. Then I settled in for the night, putting my satchel on top of me as a very poor blanket. I closed my eyes—feeling rather pleased with myself.

  I was surprised when I opened my eyes again that it was already daylight. I ate a breakfast of roasted rabbit and the last of the berries, rinsed my hands in the stream, guzzled and refilled my water canteen, and even brushed my teeth with some toothpaste I’d swiped from a house in Beckenshire.

  It took me another few hours of bumbling through the forest and hoping I was headed in the right direction. At last, I breathed a sigh of relief when the trees begin to thin out, and I could just see the vague outline of a city on the other side of them in the early morning sunlight. Friedrichsburg. It had to be, it was the only city for miles around.

  Problem was, I had no idea if the hunters had come out at the same part of the forest as I had. They might be miles away, or they might be right in front of me.

  I’d just have to take the risk.

  I crept forward to the tree line at an agonizing pace to compensate for my clumsy, loud feet. But I saw no sign of our hunters there. I breathed again. Then I turned my attention to Friedrichsburg.

  I spotted a pretty, well-manicured house maybe five hundred yards from the edge of the woods. It was the easiest target from my position, and it didn’t look like the hunters were already inside… but how could a place that cute not be inhabited? I wondered.

  Then I remembered my signal disruptor. I reached into my pocket and flipped it on.

  When I looked back up, I was momentarily confused, wondering if I’d somehow spun around and was looking at a different house than I’d chosen before. The little home had become dingy, water-stained and overgrown. I felt a stab of fear.

  Am I still that brainwashed? Because if I was… that didn’t bode well.

  I gritted my teeth. Get it together, Kate.

  If there was a sniper watching at the edge of the forest, there was almost no way he wouldn’t see me run from the forest to the house. I could only hope he’d be so distracted watching the house where Will and Jean were working that he wouldn’t see me at all.

  It was now or never. I dashed.

  I arrived at the threshold of rotting wood out of breath, but so far as I could tell, undiscovered. I froze once I knew I was out of view of the tree line, waiting for voices or footsteps to pursue me. When none did after a few minutes, I crept inside.

  Clearly this home had been abandoned for years. Many of the homes in the Republic were, since nearly a third of the population died at the very beginning after the Crash, and almost another third in the two decades that followed. I now knew that the high ongoing mortality rate was probably due to starvation.

  I hoped this home belonged to a more recently deceased family, so that there might still be something here I could use that hadn’t completely disintegrated…

  I made my way into the bathroom and pulled open cabinets barely hanging on their hinges, and drawers off the tracks. I rummaged through cleaning chemicals corroded on the outsides, rat droppings, and stiff bottles of half-used shampoo with the labels peeling off.

  In the third drawer I checked, I finally found at least part of what I was looking for: makeup. I knew it was likely long since expired, but that didn’t matter, as long as I could get my hands on at least a few garish colors…

  I tried the foundation on my hand, and found it three shades lighter than my usual skin color. Good. I slathered it on my face, on my eyelids, and down my neck. I looked pasty and unnatural, but I looked less like myself, which was the point. Normally when I was on screen, my makeup artist Heather tinted my lips red—so I covered them in foundation too. She usually tried to go with a natura
l look for me, emphasizing my best features while making it look like I wasn’t wearing makeup at all. So I caked on bright pink blush and blue eyeshadow.

  When I’d finished, it looked like a parrot exploded on my face, but I definitely didn’t look like me. I also looked about ten years older than I was. I found a brown eyeliner pencil and drew on a few beauty marks for good measure.

  Next, I needed to disguise my hair. I did find a pair of scissors… but the truth was, I was just too vain to cut it off. Instead I rummaged through the closet (which smelled like mothballs and made me gag), looking for a hat. I didn’t find one, but I did find a long orange polyester scarf. Using combs I’d found in the bathroom, I piled my hair on my head, pinned it, and wound the scarf around my head, tying it at the nape of my neck.

  If I just had a pair of earrings, I might look like a gypsy, I thought. Surely the woman who had lived here and possessed all these garish adornments should have those, too…

  I didn’t find earrings, though. But I did manage to locate a large pair of sunglasses, the rims of which were cracked and faded by the sun.

  Perfect. I was a complete stranger, I thought, surveying my reflection in the mirror. Like a washed-up movie star from the former United States.

  Now came the hard part: getting out of this house without being seen by the hunters, and down to the bullet train station. I’d never been to Friedrichsburg before so I didn’t know exactly where that was. I’d have to ask someone for directions. But that was all right, no one could possibly recognize me like this.

  Maybe I should disguise my voice too. I tried to think of an accent I could assume, but gave up on that quickly. I’d probably do it badly and call more attention to myself.

  “I could talk like this,” I said aloud, dropping my voice to a low rasp. That might work… not like I’d have to talk all that much anyway.

  Okay, done. I paused at the threshold of the house, peering around one more time and assessing the various different routes I could take. I had no idea which would make me least likely to be discovered, so I’d just have to pick one and hope. Maybe at a distance, even the hunters wouldn’t know who I was, if I acted like I belonged.