Rebel Nation

by Shaunta Grimes

  “What does she know?” Isaiah asked. “She doesn’t know anything.”

  “She knows everything,” Jude said. “And she couldn’t even keep herself from telling you about West. Are you going to put her up against Bennett? Really?”

  The tension in the room ramped up, suddenly, to the point where Clover couldn’t catch her breath. She forced herself to stay, but had to wrap her arms around her body to keep from falling apart. Mango made a soft sound to catch her attention and pressed against her legs. She sat down on the edge of Isaiah’s bed and her dog put his head in her lap.

  Isaiah and Jude stared at each other. Isaiah was bigger than Jude, but Clover thought he probably underestimated the younger boy. Fighting wouldn’t help. It would make things worse if some adult had to break them up. “Stop it. Enough.”

  “I’ll go,” Bridget said. That stopped the posturing, anyway. Both Isaiah and Jude turned to her. “I have to. Isaiah, I’m sorry, I have to go.”

  Something passed between the two of them that felt, to Clover, like some radio wave that slipped silently over her head.

  “If you go, I go.” Isaiah’s jaw was so tight, Clover thought it might snap.

  “Okay, good. Get your stuff together. I have some plastic bags. You’ll need dry clothes, warm things. Whatever you can fit in your pack.” Clover stood up and moved to his dresser as she spoke. They’d wasted enough time. “Make sure you keep at least one change of clothes and a pair of shoes dry for the trip to the ranch.”

  “Just go, Clover,” Isaiah said.

  “Come on,” she said. “Don’t be so stubborn, you need the bags and—”

  Jude took Clover’s elbow, firmly, and directed her toward the door. She yanked away from him, but it was too late. She was already in the hallway and Jude blocked her way back into the room. He said, “Half hour before dusk, where the wall crosses the river in the west. Got that?”

  Isaiah didn’t answer. He closed the door and Clover heard the lock slip into place.

  “Are they going to be there?” she asked, somehow managing to keep her voice low.

  “They’ll be there.”

  “They could bring the guard with them. Bennett. Kingston. We can’t just leave them, Jude.”

  Jude sat on the floor, with his back against the wall across from Isaiah’s door. “We aren’t.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “We’re waiting for them to figure out that this is the right thing to do. Sit down.”

  —

  Half an hour after Isaiah locked them out of his room, he came out with Bridget. They both stopped short when they saw Jude, Clover, and Mango sitting in the hallway.

  Clover thought they looked resigned. That was good. “Ready?”

  “I don’t like this,” Isaiah said. “But if I can’t talk you two out of it, then I can’t talk her out of it. And if she goes, I go.”

  Isaiah shifted his shoulders, as if to let them know that he didn’t care one way or the other. He cared, though. Clover saw it written all over his posture and the hard set to his face.

  Isaiah shifted the pack over his shoulder and pointed a finger at Jude’s chest. “I’m holding you responsible if anything happens to Bridget or Clover.”

  “Bridget and Clover are responsible for themselves,” Clover said. Isaiah exhaled sharply and walked away.

  Clover slipped her hand into Jude’s. She knew that Jude didn’t need Isaiah to hold him responsible. If anything happened to any of them, he’d never forgive himself.

  I have no trouble with my enemies. I can take care of my enemies all right. But my damn friends, my god-damned friends . . . they’re the ones who keep me walking the floor nights!

  —WARREN G. HARDING,

  TO WILLIAM ALAN WHITE, AS QUOTED IN A HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES

  West stood on the bank of the river and watched the water rush into the city, under the bridge formed by the wall. Several sharp rocks jutted up and caused the water to break around them.

  Was that good? Shallow water maybe meant less chance of anyone drowning. Was it bad? Shallow water maybe meant more chance of someone being beaten against the rocks that would be submerged by a few feet in the spring when the snow melted.

  West was surprised to find that, even standing just a few feet from the city limits, he had no desire to be on the other side of the wall. Clover, Bridget, and Jude were coming back out today—for good this time—and that felt right.

  Christopher, Marta, Phire, and even little Emmy had worked hard with him to turn Waverly’s ranch into their ranch. They’d harvested the gardens, saved seeds, managed the flock of chickens and the small stock of dairy goats. They were prepared for winter, and West was glad that they’d be a complete unit again.

  Christopher and Marta stood between Waverly’s van and a station wagon they’d found in a driveway in Incline Village. They’d left the engines running to keep the heaters going and to allow them a faster getaway if they needed it. West stuck a hand in the water and it felt like exactly what it was: close to freezing.

  “Where are they?” Phire asked. “Isn’t it time yet?”

  The sun was low on the horizon, and West thought it must be near the time for people to start coming through the water to their side of the wall. He hated not knowing what was happening over there. Clover could be getting arrested, right then. Bridget had been acting strange the last couple of weeks. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, he was afraid that if there was any trouble it had to do with her. Was she balking at leaving the city? Had she told her father?

  He didn’t know Leanne, but he had at least a basic trust in her. What choice did he have? She’d warned them about Bennett’s plan, so maybe she really was one of them. No way was Clover going back onto the Veronica. All Bennett would have to do to get rid of her was to leave her too long in the future. She’d come back lost to him forever.

  Christopher came down the bank with a length of rope over each shoulder and pulled West out of his thoughts. He handed one of the ropes over. “You ready to do this?”

  “I’m ready,” West said as he slipped his arm through the coil. They had just about every towel and blanket from the ranch with them. Marta and Phire stood by with a stack of each, ready to warm the others as they came through. Emmy sat on top of the van, on the lookout, just in case.

  “Is that them?” Marta asked.

  West ducked his head, trying to see what she saw. It was dark under the wall, but then he caught sight of an arm and a flash of a white T-shirt. “Yes!”

  He went down as close to the water as he could get. He was prepared to jump into the river, if he had to, but needed to stay dry and relatively warm for as long as possible.

  He thought at first that the brown arm belonged to Jude, but it was Isaiah’s face that came out into the waning sunlight. For the space of two or three heartbeats, they just stared at each other, before Isaiah came all the way into view, towing a blond girl by one hand.

  West thought, Bridget, and in the same instant he knew it wasn’t her. This girl was younger, no more than thirteen or fourteen. Another girl, a strawberry blonde maybe Clover’s age, had her other hand. Christopher tossed the end of his rope to Isaiah, who gave it to the first girl. Christopher yanked her out, dripping and shaking with cold. West got the other girl out of the water, then reached to help Isaiah, but his friend turned and let the current take him back to the bridge.

  Marta wrapped the girls in blankets and elbowed Phire until he came to life and reached into the van for dry clothes.

  “Here come more,” Christopher said as two boys came through. They were too thin and younger than the girls. The bigger one missed the rope when West tossed it, and for a second, West was sure he would have to go fish them out. The kid caught it on the second throw.

  “There’s more,” one of the girls said from the van. “Lots more.”

/>   “Lots?” West asked, just as Isaiah came through again, holding a four- or five-year-old girl in his arms. Two more kids, a boy and a girl maybe a little older than Emmy, clutched at him as he led them out of the City.

  “Where’s Clover?” West called out to Isaiah, keeping his voice as low as he could manage.

  “You guys got to move faster,” Christopher said before Isaiah could answer.

  “We’re doing the best we can.” Isaiah was shaking and his lips were blue. “You could help.”

  West went down to the water’s edge and knelt, peering under the bridge. The whole operation was unnaturally quiet. If guards heard them—West couldn’t even think about what would happen. He waded into the water, the cold taking his breath away and the current tugging at his legs like the river wanted him back in the city. He waved to Christopher to come closer so they could build a human bridge to help the kids make their way.

  The next group was a teenaged girl holding a little boy by the hand and a toddler holding on around her neck for dear life. The older boy tripped and the girl went down on one knee. The baby panicked when his lower body went into the icy water and he yanked the girl’s hair until her mouth opened in a silent scream. Not that being quiet mattered when the baby was wailing.

  West was waist deep in the cold water before he could think about it. He took the kid from the girl’s back, despite both of their protests.

  “Give him back to me!” The girl gripped West’s arm, which gave him some leverage to get her back on her feet. “Please!”

  West pushed the older boy ahead of him toward Christopher and hoped that the girl would follow them. She did. West handed the baby up to Marta. Phire helped the older boy out. West kept a grip on the girl’s arm and asked her, “What’s your name?”

  Her teeth were chattering and she looked miserably up the bank to the boys who were already being warmed. “Bethany.”

  “Those are your brothers?”

  “Please, let me go to them.”

  West let her go. He could barely feel his lower body. By the time she reached the top of the incline and the warm cars, there was another flurry of activity at the bridge. Kids came through in groups of two or three, terrified and frozen. When the fifteenth and sixteenth were out of the water, West grabbed one of them and asked, “Where’s my sister?”

  “Cl-Clover’s coming.”

  “Where’s Isaiah?” The kid just gave him a blank look though, so he let him go.

  Jude and Clover came through together. West read his sister’s panic like a book—her green eyes were wide and she was focused on some internal middle distance, not looking at Jude or West or anyone else. Her body was so stiff and tight that she was making it harder for Jude to help her. Jude had Mango’s lead in his other hand and was trying to drag the dog through the cold water as well.

  Jude let go of the dog and Mango managed his own way up the incline. West tried to help Clover once she was on his side of the bridge, but she jerked away from him.

  “Help Leanne,” she said, pushing the words through clenched teeth.

  Now that he wasn’t fighting the dog as well, Jude was managing. Christopher was nearby, so West turned back to the bridge just in time to hear a woman scream from underneath it urgently enough that if there was a guard within earshot, it would bring him running.

  “Are you crazy?” he hissed as loud as he dared. “Shut up.”

  The scream bit off, like the woman might have put her hands over her mouth to stop it. Jude came back to West and then went past him without stopping. West followed. The current was like a freight train.

  “Where’s Bridget?” he asked the other boy. “Jude, where’s Bridget?”

  West took three steps, meaning to get close enough to look and see what was going on. His fourth step landed on something smooth and slimy and his foot slipped out from under him, sending him backward, arms flailing.

  The Truckee River took him nearly back into the city he’d worked so hard to get out of in the first place. He inhaled bitterly cold water into his nose and mouth, and then all the air went out of him at once when he smacked first his hip and then his forehead into a boulder that at least stopped him from riding the river all the way to the execution squads.

  “West!” He heard Clover yelling for him, and then Christopher frantically hushing her. It was obvious that somehow Bennett had never found out how they were getting the kids out of the city, because they were doing an awful job of being quiet. If Bennett had somehow managed a time loop that would let him know ahead of time, he’d be here with the whole guard.

  West looked up, shaking his head to clear it, and saw Jude supporting a woman who held a leg up in the air, out of the water, over her head. This was Leanne, then. Clover had told him about her prosthetic leg. Near panic and with her hair in braids, she looked much younger than she must have been. West levered himself up and back on his feet.

  Jude took the woman’s metal leg, keeping it out of the water, while West wrapped an arm around her waist to support her as they all fought their way against the current. Christopher splashed into the shallow part of the river to help lift Leanne out.

  West started back toward the bridge. “Where are Bridget and Isaiah?”

  Jude took his arm and stopped him. “They aren’t coming.”

  “What are you talking about?” West shivered hard enough to make talking difficult. He bent and peered under the bridge. “They have to come.”

  “They left.”

  He turned back to Jude. “They left? How could you let them go?”

  “How could I stop them?”

  West was cold and confused and didn’t like that combination at all. He peeled off his wet T-shirt and handed it to Marta, who gave him a dry sweatshirt. “This is way more than a dozen people. Way more, Jude.”

  Jude looked at the two vehicles, both packed with scared, half-frozen kids. “Who should we have left behind?”

  West kicked off his shoes and struggled out of his soaked pants. He did his best to maintain some kind of modesty, but he was so cold that he didn’t really care who saw what in his effort to warm up. Jude handed him a dry pair of blue jeans.

  He put them on, and once he was dry and dressed, he felt a little more in control of himself. “Let’s just get home.”

  “West!” Clover, still tugging on a navy blue coat, ran toward him with Mango on her heels. She hesitated for a second, like she was preparing herself for impact, and then wrapped her arms around his neck. He put a hand on the back of her wet head, holding her against him.

  “God, I missed you,” he said.

  He felt her stiffen seconds before she pulled away. She took two steps back and looked up at him. “I missed you, too.”

  A dictatorship would be a lot easier.

  —GEORGE W. BUSH, GOVERNING MAGAZINE, JULY 1998

  “So, sixteen kids and your trainer,” West said. He finally had some feeling back in his extremities. In the station wagon’s rearview mirror, he could see half of those kids crowded together like sardines. “Not exactly a dozen, Clover.”

  Clover was in the front seat with her feet tucked under her, wedged into the space between the driver’s and passenger’s seats. Jude and Mango were both up front as well. “I didn’t know Leanne was coming. She said she wasn’t.”

  Leanne was in the van. “Did she say why she changed her mind?”

  “She just went into the water,” Jude said. “I don’t know what happened. The real miracle is that Bennett didn’t show up with the entire guard.”

  West held his right fingers against the heater vent. Maybe the advance warning system didn’t work as well as Bennett wanted them to think it did. That thought was strangely electric. “What do we do with her?”

  “She knows more about the Company than any of us,” Clover said. “We need her.”

  Maybe they did need her
. They had no real plan, so how could he know? They drove in silence for a while. The restlessness from the back seats quieted down as well, and when West looked he saw that most of the kids had fallen asleep.

  Clover had dozed off, too, with her head resting on Jude’s shoulder and his arm firmly around her. West looked back at the road. Right now was not the time to think about that. He needed to figure out why Bridget had left. Every time he thought about it, he felt a little sick. She hadn’t come. He had no way of contacting her. Maybe not ever again. She’d left with Isaiah.

  “There’s something going on between Bridget and Isaiah,” Jude said, softly.

  West turned to look at him, startled to hear his thoughts given voice. “Don’t be stupid.”

  “I’m sorry. I—”

  “Stop talking.”

  Jude petted Mango on the head and adjusted his arm when Clover whimpered in her sleep and turned closer to him. His sister never let anyone touch her, but she was curled against this boy like it was the most natural thing in the world.

  “Maybe she didn’t want to leave her father. Maybe she just wanted to stay in the city,” West said.

  “It was that, too, I think.” Jude hesitated before speaking again. “West, she told Isaiah just about everything.”

  That was enough to jolt him out of feeling sorry for himself. “She wouldn’t have done that.”

  “She did,” Clover said, her voice thick with exhaustion. She sat up, putting space between herself and Jude.

  West stayed quiet the last ten minutes before pulling into the ranch. Bridget and Isaiah? He could picture both of their faces perfectly but couldn’t put them together. No. He couldn’t even think about it now. He had sixteen kids, Leanne, Clover, and Jude to find beds for. In separate houses for those last two. On different sides of the ranch.

  He’d think about Bridget later.

  —

  “It’s still warm enough to sleep in the houses without heat, if we bundle up,” West said as the drained, semi-traumatized kids were led to the four small houses Waverly had set up for the Freaks. “We’d planned on moving into the main house soon, but that isn’t going to work now.”