by April Marcom
The room was all hers. She was an only child—sort of. Her parents had given birth to a son when she was two. He was a defect, which was part of the reason she wanted to visit the Surface so badly. Her parents were heartbroken enough they’d made certain not to have any more children.
Lying on the floor, I pushed dusty papers, fabrics, and hair adornments aside so I could get to the box behind it all. I gasped and bit my lip when a needle stabbed my hand through a little sack of what must have been her sewing things. I rubbed my hands together before going back to pushing things around a bit more carefully.
Finally I saw the old wooden box. I slid it across the floor as quickly as I could manage while still keeping silent. It was short, but plenty wide enough to hold everything I would need.
Inside it I found the thick, padded undershirt that would give me more of a manly look. Then I took out the boots Henna had modified to make her appear taller. It was a struggle getting them on since her feet were a good bit smaller than mine. My toes were curled under and my feet pinched tight, but I managed it. Lastly, I removed the most important piece, the transporter’s cloak. I slid the box back under Henna’s bed and pushed her things in front of it again. Then I put the cloak on as I went back to climb out her window.
The early morning sun shone brightly now.
The sound of water spraying outside startled me. Jordan was standing just outside his house. He was Henna’s neighbor and a classmate of ours. He was tall and handsome, a serious crush of mine for as long as I could remember. Water poured from the pipe beside him into the cup he was holding.
It was a good thing my identity was already hidden within the cloak. But had he seen me exit Henna’s window?
I didn’t have time to worry about it. I set my pace at a fast walk to avoid looking suspicious and hurried on my way.
Watching him made me thirsty. My people relied heavily on always having water nearby, since our bodies used it along with sunlight to keep us alive, much the way plants do.
Jordan shivered at the grim sight of my attire before I looked away, walking as quickly as I could. It was important that I reached the passageway before the other transporters did or the men who stood guard there would have no reason to let me go down.
The boots were hurting my feet. It felt like I might fall at any moment. Still, I ran when I was certain Jordan couldn’t see me anymore.
It would have been peculiar had he seen a transporter dashing all over the place.
My ankles were throbbing and my chest was on fire by the time I reached the bridge leading to the passageway. It was the longest one ever built and led straight to the peak of a mountain. Stairs had been cut into the mountain’s side. They worked their way back and forth all the way to the ground. At least twenty men stood at the enormous ledge where the bridge met the mountain, spears in hand.
There was no sign of the transporters. Either I had missed them or they hadn’t arrived yet. The latter seemed more likely, considering how much closer Henna’s house was to the passageway than mine and how fast I’d gone.
I turned around so I could work my way through bridges and around trees back into the city, hoping I could come up behind the transporters and join their line. There were little more than bridges and small landings so close to the passageway. No-one wanted to be near it.
My heart pounded, nearly audibly. I was as frightened as I was determined. Of being caught. Of facing an adult defect. Of what might happen to me on the Surface.
What hope I had of ever seeing my sister began to die when the first houses came into view. And then a man in brown appeared from the back side of one, followed closely by another. I felt a rush of joy at seeing the tiny bundle of blankets carried by the fourth.
My muscles seized for a moment. Everything suddenly became very real.
Ten men in cloaks had rounded the house by the time the last one emerged. Number eight’s hood turned to face me. He lifted an arm to motion for me to join them. It seemed a natural thing for transporters to fall into line as they moved through the city, making what I did next much easier.
Swallowing all my fear with the help of every Surface daydream I’d ever had, I pulled my hood lower over my face and made my way to become number eleven in their line. I made certain to keep the enormous sleeves hanging down over my hands. They would have been a dead giveaway to my deception.
I turned right onto the bridge that would take me to the transporters. Number three was just passing by at the very end. My head hung lower until I could only see my feet.
The breeze blew toward them, pressing gently against my back.
It’s not too late. You can still turn back, fear seemed to call from where I’d buried it deep down.
I ignored it. No matter what happened, I was doing this.
5 Prince Publishing
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