“Did he put down how he turns it into fuel?” Christopher asked.
“Not that I’ve found, but there are books.”
Christopher got up and went to the shelves, filled with books West knew he couldn’t read. Or he couldn’t very well. They’d have to take care of that. Soon.
“I can probably figure it out,” Christopher said.
West looked around the room. When Jude, Clover, and Bridget left, he’d be here with Christopher, Phire and Emmy, and Marta. He was the only one of them who could read or write. If something happened to him, they’d be lost.
“We start reading lessons tomorrow,” he said. Christopher looked uncomfortable, but nodded. “Not just for you. Every Freak needs to know how to read and write.”
Marta darted her blue gaze to Christopher. She didn’t respond, but West was pretty sure if Christopher was into it, she wouldn’t fight it either.
“Me, too?” Emmy asked.
Jude tugged on her braid. “You especially.”
“We have a lot to do in the next few days,” Phire said. “Maybe that should wait.”
West shook his head. “After dinner tomorrow, just for an hour.”
“I’ve been thinking,” Jude said. Something about his posture caused West to pay attention. “I think I know how I can get back into the city.”
“How?” Clover asked.
“There’s another train tomorrow night. Remember, to bring more oil?”
Clover hesitated, then said, “Yes.”
“I think Frank and Melissa can sneak me in. Melissa told me there’s a truck at the stop for them to drive into the city when they arrive with a shipment.”
West waited for Clover to tell Jude what a bad idea that was. When she didn’t, he said, “Don’t you think that someone will notice an extra person?”
“That’s why I said sneak.”
“What if you get caught?” Clover asked.
Jude ran a hand over his mouth and turned to look at her. “I’ll talk to Frank and Melissa about it, at least. They’ll know if there’s a way.”
“But what if you do get caught?” Clover’s voice rose an octave, and West saw the signs of an impending meltdown. “Then what? Then what if I get into the city and you’re not there?”
“Okay,” West said. “Breathe, Clover. Let’s wait until tomorrow, when we can talk to Frank and Melissa before you get yourself all worked up.”
“I’m not worked up!” She stalked out of the big house.
West sighed. He was so tired. More tired than he could ever remember being. Finding a rhythm for the farm wasn’t difficult. This was one of the busiest times, with the harvest starting to come in. It was all the rest that threatened to overwhelm him. What were they supposed to do out here, besides run the farm? Would others come? Were the people who wrote the letters expecting something of them?
“I’ll go after her,” Jude said.
West let him. It was a sign of his exhaustion that he was grateful not to have to deal with Clover’s meltdown on his own.
Jude calmed Clover down, and the evening proceeded without any more drama. As tired as West had been all day, when he finally lay down to sleep, his brain wouldn’t shut down. The idea of sending Clover and Bridget into the city alone made him sick.
There had to be something he could do. Staying on the ranch while Clover and Bridget went back to an uncertain future in the city felt so wrong.
It took a couple of hours of tossing and turning for the solution to hit him square in the gut. He put on his pants, with the keys to the van still in the pocket. He eased past the sleeping bodies of his friends, then went outside.
Jude sat on the porch, leaning back in his chair so that only the back two legs teetered on the ground. He looked up from the notebook he read by flashlight. “What’s up?”
West was tempted to tell Jude he was going to the bathroom. That would be a useless lie, though, because Jude would hear the van start. And even if he didn’t, he’d come looking for West when he didn’t come back.
“I’m going for a drive,” he finally said.
“Why?” West didn’t answer right away, and Jude didn’t back down. “Joyrides aren’t a good use of our fuel.”
West shifted his position, squaring his shoulders. “Don’t try to stop me.”
Jude didn’t move and he didn’t raise his voice when he said, “We’re going to miss that van if you don’t come back.”
“I’ll come back.”
“What happened to staying in pairs?”
West took a deep breath. “You’re on duty.”
“Take Christopher.”
West knew his resistance came from guilt. He shouldn’t be anywhere near the gate. But he had to talk to Isaiah. He trusted Jude and Christopher, but he’d known Isaiah his whole life and he wasn’t sending his sister, or Bridget, back into the city without talking to his friend first. Or at least trying to.
“Your friend’s a guard,” Jude said, reading his mind. “Are you sure his loyalty hasn’t been trained out of him?”
“How did you know?”
Jude put his book down. “I’ve been waiting for it. Makes sense you’d try to talk to him, and there’s not much else you’d need to sneak out in the middle of the night for.”
West had to trust this kid with his sister and his girl. He guessed he’d better start now. “We need as many allies as we can get. Isaiah is one of the good guys.”
“He’s been a guard for three years. And you left the city. You might not know him now as well as you think you do.”
“I know he tried to warn Clover.”
Jude didn’t say anything to that. West wished he weren’t at least possibly right. Isaiah might believe that he was doing the right thing, even protecting Clover and Bridget, if he took West into custody. “I have to talk to him. I have to go now, so that he’ll think I’m dead when Clover and Bridget say I am. I won’t tell him anything he won’t find out anyway—that Clover and Bridget have been outside the city walls all this time. That they’re coming back and need protection.”
“I’ll take care of Clover,” Jude said.
“And who will take care of you?”
“You think working a hoe and living in the neighborhoods without enough rations was hard?” Jude asked, his voice low and calm. “I said I’ll take care of her and I will.”
West was losing his baby sister. Right here, on this porch. He hoped Jude was as tough as he thought he was. “I’m still going. You’re the one who keeps saying change starts on the inside.”
“You really believe this guy is a Freak?”
“He tried to warn us. Twice,” West said. “He deserves the chance.”
He didn’t tell Jude that he had a hunting knife in his back pocket. Or that the one question that haunted him was what would happen to Clover and Bridget if Isaiah wasn’t part of the revolution after all. If he wasn’t a Freak.
Jude nodded. Maybe deciding, like West had, that they had no choice but to learn to trust each other. “Take Christopher with you or I’ll have the whole house up.”
West went back in and shook Christopher by the shoulder. Five minutes later, he pulled the van out onto the highway.
Christopher’s adventurous spirit was addictive. Fifteen minutes into their drive toward the gate, West had caught the excitement himself.
“Watch for bears,” Christopher said. “Clover said she almost smashed one out here. Would be cool to see one, though, wouldn’t it? I almost hope we do.”
West was driving twenty miles an hour, which felt like flying, but he knew enough about driving to know it wasn’t very fast at all. He was barely comfortable behind the wheel as it was; he wasn’t about to speed around the dark curves.
Christopher drummed a chorus on his thighs with his hands. “I can read some, you know.”
“I know.”
“Be good to read better, though. And write. I’m not so good at writing.”
“I’ll teach you to write. You can teach
me about fixing things,” West said.
“Sure. I need to figure out how to make the biofuel. You can help me.”
“Sounds good.” West sneaked a sidelong glance at Christopher. “You’ve been real good with Marta. I don’t even know what to say to her.”
“We were in the same house in Foster City, you know. The three of us since we was just little. Their baby sister, too. You wouldn’t know the twins were seventeen, would you? Same as me.”
That did surprise him. He thought fifteen was pushing it, even though they sometimes acted like they were going on thirty. West should have left the city by himself, or maybe with Clover and Bridget. Then Geena would be alive. He tried to think of a way to articulate that and came up with nothing.
Christopher didn’t seem to notice. He went on talking like he was alone in the van. “I almost didn’t leave. Bad as it was, and it was real bad, at least I knew what to expect, yeah? Then our house father broke my leg. Swung at it with a golf club when I tried to stop him from—from doing what he did with the girls in our house. Wouldn’t take me to the hospital. Guess he was afraid I’d talk.”
“Would you have?”
“You think anyone would listen if I did? Soon as I could walk again, limp or whatever, we went with Jude.”
They drove in silence most of the rest of the way to the gate. When they were a mile away, West turned the van around so that it faced back the way they’d come and pulled to the side of the road. He shifted in his seat so he could see Christopher. “Listen to me.”
“Oh, no. I’m going with you.”
“If things don’t go well, you have to take this monster back to the ranch. Do you hear me?”
“West.”
“I mean it. I know learning how to drive alone in the dark isn’t ideal, but you can figure it out. You just turn the key, put your foot on the brake, and shift to drive. That’s the D in the window there. Gas on the right, brake on the left. Turn the wheel the way you want the car to go. The right-hand pedal is the gas. You press it easy, you hear me? Pull this out to turn on the headlights. Don’t you drive off a cliff.”
West got out of the van and walked away before Christopher could argue. The mile walk, in the dark, to the gate felt like a hundred. The guard on the outside wasn’t Isaiah. West had to crouch behind a tree and wait for them to change positions. Long enough to build up a nice head of concern that Isaiah might have the day off, or maybe he’d rotated to a different shift. Also long enough to worry that Christopher might decide to go back to the ranch without him.
But twenty minutes later, Isaiah came to the outside post and sat on the chair.
West hadn’t thought this out well enough. Whether he called for Isaiah or just emerged from the woods, he was likely to get shot. He picked up one of the big pine cones scattered on the ground and took a deep breath before rolling it hard toward Isaiah.
Isaiah kicked his foot out in surprise and looked in West’s direction.
Here goes nothing. West stepped out.
“What the hell?” Isaiah brought up his gun, and his call brought the other guard.
“What? What is it?”
West retreated, as silently as he could. He tensed, expecting shots to ring out, but they didn’t.
“I don’t know,” Isaiah said to the guard, as he still looked in West’s direction. “Thought I heard something.”
He didn’t mention the pine cone. Maybe that was good. Maybe not. West’s heart beat so hard, he was afraid they’d hear it. Every instinct he had insisted he turn tail and get back to the van.
“Must have been a deer or something,” Isaiah said. “I need to take a leak.”
There was some kind of answer from the other guard, but West couldn’t make it out. Then Isaiah picked up his gun and walked straight at him.
“Isaiah,” West said, once his friend was close enough. Isaiah raised the gun and pointed it at his chest. “God, don’t shoot me.”
“What are you doing here? It’s way past curfew.” West nodded slowly, not sure how to answer that. Curfew was the last thing he had on his mind, and Isaiah knew he hadn’t been in the city for weeks. Isaiah looked around and seemed to finally realize that West was on the wrong side of the gate. “They’re looking for you.”
“I know.”
“You took Bridget Kingston. They’re saying she’s dead.”
“She is not dead. And I didn’t take her, she came with me.”
Isaiah narrowed his eyes. “Then where is she?”
“She’s safe. She’s coming home soon, now that her death date has passed. You can be the one to give her back to her father.” That would mean recognition, a big reward. Not a Whole New Life, but something. Enough to make a difference. Maybe a pass out of gate duty, at least.
“My grandma is out of her mind worried about you and Clover. Where is Clover, anyway? She with you?”
“Clover and Bridget are both coming back. I need you to look out for them, Isaiah. Both of them.”
“What about you?”
“Promise me. If Clover or Bridget needs you, you’ll be there. If they come to you and ask for help, you’ll give it to them. And you’ll believe what they say, even if it seems crazy.”
“Isaiah!” the other guard called. “What the hell are you doing out there?”
“Promise me.”
“Fine. Fine! I promise.”
Isaiah ran back to the gate. “Way to give a guy some privacy,” he called to the other guard. West was already picking his way through the trees back to the van.
“Are you out of your mind?” Clover had found out about his middle-of-the-night adventure, and she was not happy. She stood with her hands in fists, looking like she’d like to knock him out. West did his best not to laugh. Or do anything to make her feel like he wasn’t taking her seriously. It wasn’t easy. Her cheeks were red and the ends of her hair trembled as she shook with rage.
“I brought Christopher with me.”
“Christopher? You brought Christopher? Neither of you know how to drive well enough to be out on these roads in the dark. And what was Christopher going to do to keep you from being shot?”
“Isaiah wouldn’t shoot me.”
She blew a breath out through her nose. “You didn’t know that! Not for sure, anyway.”
“I’m sorry I scared you.”
“You should apologize to Jude. I had to beat him up to make him tell me where you were.”
West looked at Jude, who stood not far away. The other boy lifted his shoulders.
“Hopefully no one got hurt,” West said. “I needed to know Isaiah would be on our side.”
“How much did you tell him?”
“Just enough to make him think. And to convince him to look out for you and Bridget.”
“If he tells someone that you’re not dead, it’ll mess up everything.”
“He won’t know I’m not dead,” West said. “You’ll tell him I am, just like you’ll tell everyone else.”
“So you don’t trust him.”
“I trust us. I’m not sure he’s one of us yet. When he is, if he is, then he’ll know what he needs to know.”
chapter 23
I am surprised at the suddenness as well as the greatness of this revolution…
—JOHN ADAMS, LETTER TO ABIGAIL ADAMS, JULY 3, 1776
Clover watched Melissa climb out of the train, then run to them and throw herself at Jude. His hand disappeared into Melissa’s thick auburn hair, covering her back as he caught her. “Whoa,” he said.
She hugged him, then stepped back. “I’m so happy to see you. All of you. I wasn’t sure you’d be here.”
“Of course we’re here,” Clover said. “We said we would be.”
“We don’t have much time,” Frank said as he climbed out of the engine car as well. “We’re running late already. Maybe some of you kids can help me get your oil barrel down.”
The train had only two cars this time. Clover guessed it would pick up at least one in Reno, and
maybe another in Sacramento before the whole thing turned around to head east again.
“Waverly is dead,” Clover said.
If she’d meant to stop everything in its tracks, she couldn’t have done a better job. Melissa turned toward her father and made a strangled little noise.
“What did you say?” Frank asked.
“Clover,” West said from somewhere behind her.
Melissa was crying and Frank’s face lost all its color. Clover felt so uncomfortable in her own skin, she wished she could crawl out of it.
“How did he die?” Frank asked.
“Langston Bennett shot him,” Clover said.
“My God. Are you kids okay?”
“Bennett killed Geena, too,” Marta said.
Frank shook his head, and for a few heartbeats, no one said anything.
“Some of us are going back,” Jude finally said.
“To the city?” Frank handed West a packet of letters, a lot like the packet that Melissa had given Clover the first time they met. “Is that a good idea?”
“There isn’t any way to know,” West said. “Waverly thought that we were meant to do something big. If we’re going to try, some of us need to be on the inside.”
It took a few minutes for West and Jude to explain their plans to Frank and Melissa. Clover waited, feeling like she might be sick, for one of them to bring up the real reason they’d come to meet the train.
“Can you get me into the city?” Jude finally asked.
“Well, probably,” Frank said. “But maybe it would be better for you to come farther east with us. We could take you—”
“No,” Clover said. “He needs to be in the city.”
Jude slipped her hand into his and squeezed it gently. “I appreciate it. But Clover and Bridget have a plan for getting back through the gates. I need another way in.”
“Well, okay,” Frank said. “If you’re sure. Let’s get your oil off the train. We need to get moving.”
It took a few minutes to maneuver a barrel of corn oil from the train to the van. They had to take out the very back seat and leave it hidden in the trees to pick up later.
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