Drafted

Home > Young Adult > Drafted > Page 2
Drafted Page 2

by Holly Hook


  "They've got to be sitting inside," I said, running again.

  My footfalls echoed off the bare walls. Blake stayed behind and held the door open to the hallway. It was up to me. I wouldn't stop fighting.

  I could pull the waiting room door open. I knew that if I stepped inside, it would close and seal me in.

  The area was a large, rectangular space with blue carpet.

  Posters of Mars hung on the walls between small souvenir shops and coffee places. People sat in chairs. I spotted T-shirts. Tablets. A counter where two women in blue-gray uniforms were selling coffee. Both stood there, expressionless like our tour guide. They must be members of the Task Force, and they had gotten the simple jobs. People like Henry had the difficult ones.

  I searched the faces in the terminal. A few families sat on the far end of the room, near the most ominous set of steel double doors I had ever seen. Those must lead to the ship.

  My class.

  They all sat in a row together. Another Task Force employee rolled a cart of coffee past, asking if anyone wanted a cup. No one took any. I spotted Paj, staring at the wall in shock. Melissa and Steph both whispered to each other. Steph's skin looked like paper.

  Winnie sat at the end of the row, by herself, with her arms wrapped around her knees. She looked so much younger, like a child afraid of the monsters in the closet.

  And my class sat fifty feet inside the room, too far away for me to reach before the door closed and locked. Blake couldn't leave his post. So far, no one looked at me.

  "Do you see her?" he asked.

  I closed the door and faced him. "Winnie's in there, but I can't run in. If I yell, the Task Force will notice me."

  Blake cursed. "We can't stay here."

  I knew what he was saying. We might have to abandon the mission. But I couldn't. An Earther didn't give up, even when everything looked dire. I thought of how Mom and Dad would look at me if I did that. We had to keep fighting for humankind and the planet, no matter what the Great Council did.

  I took my shoe off and wedged it in the door. It tried to close, crushing my shoe in the process, and I ran into the room. The Task Force wouldn't stop me from coming in. I was where I was supposed to be.

  "Winnie," I said, circling the row.

  She looked up at me, not moving her legs off the chair. "Tess? Where were you?" She sounded so small and afraid.

  "Quiet," I said. "We're leaving." I took a breath to calm my nerves. Once we left, the Task Force would follow us. We wouldn't have much time to get away. I searched the room for Henry, but he had vanished. Only the coffee women pushed carts around. It was as if they were there to calm nerves.

  "I know we are," she said. "We're going to die, aren't we?"

  "Get up," I said. I tapped Paj on the shoulder. He looked up, mouth falling open. "All of us. File to the door. It's open."

  Winnie's gaze shifted from her knees to the exit. I followed it. The heavy door closed harder on the shoe, warping it into pasta. It might not recover, but I didn't need it. I had to keep us away from Mars, and then I had to warn my parents. They weren't here. I did not doubt that Mom and Dad would know some fellow Earthers who could hide us.

  Winnie stood. She remained quiet. Paj did the same.

  And then I heard the worst three words ever.

  "Secure the door."

  The coffee woman spoke with a heavy drone, emotionless. I eyed another Task Force employee who stood in front of a doughnut stall, eyeing my shoe. She stood between us and the door.

  "Go!" I shouted. There was no hiding this now.

  Winnie and Paj sprang up, leaving the rest of the class behind. I hadn't had time to warn everyone. The three of us bolted for the door.

  The Task Force might be emotionless and weird, but they moved quickly. The coffee woman raced me to the door, eyeing the shoe that kept it open. Behind us, people rose and stampeded for the exit. I didn't look back.

  She had almost reached the door. The woman pulled a pass card from her pocket.

  I rammed into the employee, throwing her into the wall. She grunted. I shoved the door all the way open and kicked my shoe out of the way, not bothering to retrieve it. Winnie and Paj ran out behind me.

  The woman muttered something. I wasn't sure if the footfalls behind us were the Task Force or others trying to take the opening and escape. I couldn't look back. Blake held the doors open to the hallway that led back to the museum. He waved at me, all the color gone from his face.

  Winnie and Paj and I burst through the door that he held open. Other footfalls sounded as people bolted through the Space Port, heading in the opposite direction. The hallway stretched in front of us. Something was wrong. This escape was too easy. No one had evaded the Task Force before or gotten out of the Space Ports. There had to be a reason, but my mind shut all of that down. It was survival now.

  "Run," I breathed, ramming into Blake.

  He stumbled but caught his footing. We were four now, soon to be five once we reached Lin.

  "Something's happening!" Winnie shouted.

  Paj swore. "Gas!"

  A hissing sound filled the hallway. The vents at the bottom of the floor had come to life. A white vapor streamed out, spreading and reaching out with vaporous tendrils. The mop drone came to life, red eyes locked on us. It moved in front of us with a whirring noise, blocking our way to the museum.

  Now I knew why no one escaped.

  Whether or not this gas killed, we were doomed.

  To a fast death or a slow death, I didn't know.

  I pumped my legs faster, sides burning and lungs begging for air. I held my breath. If I could get to the doors without passing out, I might make it. My animal brain took over. I had to escape, whether alone or with the others. Survival instinct ruled. The doors to the theater remained closed. The air clouded with the gas. I couldn't breathe it in, but my lungs burned. I was using up oxygen by running. I would never make it.

  I put my shirt over my nose an thought of my mask in my pocket. But that was for outside, for the pollution. It wouldn't do any good against this. I dared a breath from under my shirt, and right away a wave of grogginess swept over me.

  Paj fell next to me. We left him behind. I held my breath again, but some of the gas had already entered my system. When I woke, I might be on the ship to Mars.

  If I woke.

  "Please," one of the Task Force women said from behind, her voice muffled. "Stop. We will not harm you."

  My lungs burned, and I dared a second breath.

  Blake went down, face-planting on the tile. The mop drone stretched its arms, ready to catch me. I wouldn't make it. Darkness reached up and grabbed hold of my mind. I stumbled, grabbing the wall. The air had turned to white fog. There was no way I was making it. In those final moments, I sent out hope that Lin would escape.

  A strange buzzing sounded through the hallway, and I closed my eyes.

  Chapter Three

  "Come on. Get up." Someone slapped something smooth and crinkly over my face. "Breathe through this. The gas will get out of your system. We have to hurry before reinforcements come."

  The person--a young man about my age--wrapped the crinkly thing around my nose and mouth. I breathed. The air was fresh through it and the drowsiness lifted. It was like the pollution masks that we all wore but made from a different material.

  It took me a second to realize what had happened. The gas. I opened my eyes to see the hallway filled with fog. Through this mask, I smelled a bit of smoke.

  I sucked in another breath and realized that the effects of the gas were clearing. Paj lay on the floor, passed out and breathing. So did Blake. Winnie lay slumped against the wall, out cold. She still breathed, too. My friends had succumbed to the gas's effects.

  Then who--

  A boy about my age faced me. He held my arms as he kneeled over me. In the fog, I saw that more forms lay on the floor, forms in gray-blue uniforms.

  "Huh?" I asked.

  This boy was green.

&n
bsp; As in, plant green.

  His dark, curly hair was normal, and his eyes were a deep brown, the most common color. The green in his skin, though weird, looked natural somehow. It reminded me of the pigment in leaves.

  And he, too, wore a mask over his nose and mouth. It wasn't one of the pollution ones that everyone had. I could see through it, and he wasn't falling over from the gas that now filled the chamber.

  "Are you okay?" he asked in a normal voice.

  "My friends," I said. A green boy stood before me, and that was my first thought.

  "They're only asleep. I only had two masks. We have to go. You're an Earther. You might be useful." He looked at my patch. "Come on. If you want to fight for your cause, follow me."

  "I'm not leaving my friends!" I pulled my arms away from him as the last of the gas's effects wore off. Other than us, the hallway was quiet. The mop robot had powered down.

  I blinked, glad that the vapor didn't bother my eyes.

  About ten Task Force employees lay on the floor. A strange burning smell came from them, one that could creep through this gas mask I wore. The coffee woman lay face-down on the tile. Her collar had flipped, exposing her neck. There was something black and burned sticking to the back of it. It looked like a fried octopus with tentacles wedged in her skin. I couldn't see the rest of the hallway clearly, but the sight was enough to make me nauseated. What had happened?

  The boy had a gun in his belt. It had a large barrel with an orange glow emanating from it.

  And he was shaking.

  It looked like some laser or a heat ray, and it must have stopped the Task Force and the robot. It must have. The Task Force people all wore gas masks. The woman was no longer breathing, unlike my friends. I had a feeling that none of the Task Force people were. My friends, on the other hand, continued their slumber. They had survived whatever this green boy had done.

  And what was that thing on the back of the woman's neck? I couldn't see if the other Task Force people had them.

  "You have to," he said. "You don't want to go to Mars. I just came from there." He pulled on my arm. "You can stay, or you can go!"

  "Let go of me!" I raced over to Winnie, jumping over the woman in the process. The smell worsened. I shook Winnie. She groaned and turned her head, but she didn't wake up. I grabbed her shoulders and searched around for a mask. The woman wore one, tied around her ears. A Task Force man nearby lay dead, eyes open and not breathing. I caught a glimpse of another roasted tentacle poking into the back of his skull.

  "She won't wake up. There's too much in her system," the boy said, desperate. "I need someone to show me where Woking Park is. Taking Earth back depends on it."

  "Winnie!" I shouted. I'd drag her into safety. I could get her into the theater. Hooking my hands under her arms, I managed to drag her a few feet. "Help me!"

  The boy sighed and took Winnie's legs. Together, we lifted her while he tucked the strange gun under his armpit. The green boy wore a gray jumpsuit that looked like something from a prison. He was skinny like he had spent a few years in reduced gravity. He lifted Winnie, shaking, and dropped her legs.

  "I can't," he said, checking back in the direction of the spaceport. "I'm not used to this much gravity anymore. We have to leave."

  He was right. His muscles had atrophied. "Then I'll do it myself," I said. Why did he need me so badly? This boy from Mars didn't have to stick around. "Winnie! You have to help me."

  She continued to breathe. I dragged her further from the woman's body and that gross thing on her neck. I had never seen a dead person before. The disgust and the horror would hit later. Right now, it was just shock and need to get my best friend out of here.

  In the direction of the spaceport, doors banged open.

  "Drop her!" the Mars boy shouted, grabbing my arm.

  In my shock, I did.

  Footfalls raced for us. I couldn't see our pursuers in the fog, but they were coming. They would make eye contact with us soon enough. I thought of this boy and how Mars had ruined his body. He had a hardness in his eyes that I didn't want to match. The Red Planet had made him into something strange and terrifying. If I went there, I might become like this.

  The animal brain took over again, and I ran.

  I left Winnie behind, but there was nothing I could do. If I dragged her, they would take us both.

  I followed the green boy to the theater doors, panting through the mask. He rammed into them, opening them, and we both bolted into the room. The same gas that filled the hallway behind us also filled this place, as if the Task Force expected people to try running this way. If this boy hadn't shown up, I would be getting dragged away right now.

  I had to escape.

  I wouldn't do my friends any good captured. Right?

  "Keep going!" he shouted, brandishing the strange gun.

  I could be running with a lunatic. The Mars boy could be a serial killer, and I'd be his next victim.

  The boy pushed the next set of doors open.

  Lin lay on the floor, passed out.

  "Lin!" I shouted.

  The Mars Exhibit, too, was filled with white vapor. The Task Force wanted to be thorough. I wondered if the entire museum was like this. Maybe they took everyone away who stepped in.

  I had no choice but to jump over her. The footfalls drew closer to us.

  "We have to hide," the boy said, grabbing my arm. "The Grounders don't like heights."

  I didn't protest. I thought of looking out at Mars for real, and I followed, leaving Lin to her fate. I would never live with myself for this.

  The tall, hulking form of the tripod loomed large in the fog. The boy paused, then bolted for it, still grasping my arm. There was a ladder leading up to it, attached to one of the back legs.

  "What are you doing?" I heard someone ram into the first set of doors. The Task Force would break into the exhibit in seconds.

  "Up," he said, green face inches from my own.

  This boy might be alien and gangly and armed, but he was a gentleman. He let me scramble up the ladder into the back of the tripod first. I had never climbed anything so quickly, not even during the obstacle course in Physical Conditioning. Adrenaline had taken over. There was a small opening in the back of the tripod which led into darkness, probably made for maintenance people. I climbed in, scooting along metal, and the boy scaled the ladder, tossing his weapon up to land next to me.

  I had been around my father's vintage collection of old style rifles many times, but those didn't have actual bullets in them. This weapon still glowed with orange in the barrel. It could kill. The only mystery was whether it did it by attaching gross things to peoples' necks or by burning gross things that were already on peoples' necks. I blinked and saw those burnt, gelatinous masses again. What were they? I would have to hold my questions. The green boy climbed in beside me. Some of the vapor came up with him.

  "Take out your contacts," he ordered.

  "What?" I asked. My notice that my ship was boarding flashed in my vision, red and angry.

  "Do it. They track you through those."

  I couldn't imagine cutting myself off from the world, but terror was making me do some crazy things. I took out the lenses.

  "Now break them."

  "What?"

  He seized my arm. His grip was weak. Years on the Red Planet had ravaged his body. "I'll do it if you refuse. The world depends on this."

  Something about the desperation in his words made me drop my lenses to the floor of the tripod. I brought my remaining shoe down on them.

  The crunching sound made me feel like a part of me had shattered. I felt naked without my lenses. They had belonged to me since I was two years old. I could barely remember life without them.

  "Now stay quiet."

  I did. It wasn't like I had a choice. Down below, voices droned. The people searching for us sounded as dull as Henry had. What was wrong with them? They weren't androids, but they weren't acting like normal humans, either. I thought of the burned blobs
on the backs of the others' necks. All of the spaceport employees wore high collars, almost as if they were hiding something.

  A terrifying theory crept into my mind, but I cast it away. I'd had enough horror for one day.

  "They must have exited through the main doors," a woman said in a flat monotone. She must be walking right under the tripod.

  "We must check. I will contact the Great Council," a man said in the same drone. "The team can track her." His footsteps stopped.

  I ground my foot down again onto the broken contacts. I wasn't sure what made them up--just that the Great Council issued them to all citizens. The green boy breathed slowly. I felt like I was sharing this tripod with a plant stalk which had grown arms and legs. I thought of those Mars fossils in the museum below and whether or not they had a chance to evolve into anything.

  Like those blobs on the necks of the Task Force, maybe?

  We remained quiet. There wasn't anything else we could do. The boy didn't try to climb down and confront any of the employees. No one tried to climb up. I heard several pairs of feet heading away, towards the main entryway of the museum.

  "The Grounders aren't creative," the boy said. "You know them from how they speak. I would have killed that second group, but too many deaths will bring in more Task Force members for us to fight. Besides, these people used to be human. I feel bad about killing them."

  "Grounders?" I asked.

  "I'll explain later," he said. "You need to take me to Woking Park. You're an Earther. You should know how to get there from here. I'm not very familiar with this area."

  I eyed my Earth patch on the front of my shirt, which I wore proudly every day of my life. "My mother manages the park," I said. "It's the biggest one in the world." What did this boy from Mars want with it?

  "Is it still green?" he asked as if it were the most important thing in the world.

  "Yes. Very green." Who was he, and why was I about to lead him home? My house was in the back of the park. My parents and I had lived there for the past year. We'd taken the place of the old managing family after they'd fallen victim to the draft.

 

‹ Prev