by Beck, Glenn
Julia stared at the spray bottle in her hand. It was the last item to be repacked.
“What is it? How do you use it?” Steven asked.
Julia was silent.
“Well?” Steven walked in a circle around her. “Since you obviously don’t know, I’ll tell you. It’s ammonia spray. Use it if you are being attacked by anything. Animal, human, anything. Spray it directly into their eyes.”
“Even animals, sir?” she asked.
“Yes, even animals.”
Steven knew from past experience that the Authorities would label leaders who lost team members on a mission as inadequate. Steven knew he was more important than animals and more competent than the Authorities who gave him orders. After all, his team had captured more shadow people than any other. And now he was being called back into action with a female orientee. It wasn’t right. Just looking at her, he knew she didn’t have the physical capability to be a warrior. He certainly wasn’t about to lower his standards just because she was a woman.
“All right. Everyone ready?” They stood, backpacks on, waiting for instructions.
“Here’s the plan. They’re three days ahead of us, so we have to travel quickly. They’ll head for water. That’s what they always do. Once they find water, they never leave it. We’ll check for tracks and follow them. By now they’ll be tired and their shoes will be falling apart. We should close on them in no time.”
They walked single file, Steven leading, Julia last, Winston in front of her, glancing frequently over his shoulder, making sure she was able to keep up. In single file, the five men and one woman walked deeper into the Human Free Zone until they came to the stream.
At the bottom of the hill, Steven walked a little way downstream, then reversed and walked upstream. When he stopped, the team stopped behind him, still in single file.
“What’s he doing?” Julia whispered to Winston.
He turned his head and talked over his shoulder. “Looking for clues. Tracks. To see which way they went.”
“Oh. I would think anybody running away would head downstream. Follow a stream; it will turn into a river. Just makes sense.”
Steven turned and glared at Julia.
Winston whispered to her, “Don’t talk anymore. I don’t think he likes his team talking.”
They stood in silence until Steven finally called out: “This way.” He had spotted a piece of paper in the grass and some broken twigs on trees. He began to walk and his team followed, tracking people they didn’t know, people who had several days’ lead on them, people they were determined to destroy. A confident smile formed on Steven’s lips as the group began their long march upstream.
CHAPTER NINE
* * *
EMMELINE
Days 2–4
We had more days of hiding, crouching behind shrubs, rocks, and trees. More days of putting fresh moss on David’s arm and in Elsa’s diaper. But she was irritable and crying frequently, a shrill sound that threatened our security. Micah was adjusting well to sleeping by day and walking at night, and David and I were used to working the dusk-to-dawn shift in the Compound anyway, so it wasn’t a problem for us.
The real problem was our cheap, thin-soled shoes issued by the Authorities. Who knew shoes could be so important? The Authorities knew. Their shoes were sturdy, made to last. Citizens were issued flimsy shoes that wore out quickly and were only replaced after a long waiting period. Citizens had no power. You could tell who was important in the Republic just by looking at their feet.
We were about to embark on the fourth night of walking on thin soles. Before escaping, I had taken our shoes for granted. I thought other things were more necessary to bring along, but I quickly realized they weren’t. I thought diapers were a priority, but I’d given up on diapers for Elsa and instead just dressed her in a little sleeping gown. Even when I rinsed the cloths in the stream, they never dried. I kept the diapers we hadn’t used in case we needed fabric for something. Bandages, maybe—I still worried about David’s arm.
Now we faced another night of using the blanket of darkness to put more distance between us and our pursuers. I knew they were out there, somewhere. Getting ever closer. Walking much faster than us with their sturdy shoes and well-nourished bellies.
They were the hunters. We were the hunted.
The stream meandered across the terrain as though it couldn’t decide which way to head. The ground along the edge was relatively flat; banks of earth rose up on each side. David and I took turns carrying our bundle and Elsa. Both got heavier and heavier as the night wore on. David pulled moss off rocks and we chewed on that. Lichen, he called it. Seems many green things in this world are edible. I trusted David to know what was safe and what wasn’t. But no matter how much moss we ate, we were still starving. Hunger gnawed at our bellies. Hunger filled our thoughts, made our mouths water.
As the night wore on, our pace got slower, our steps shorter. I shifted Elsa from one arm to another and held her at arm’s length when she peed. It splashed at my feet and made my arm wet when I tucked her back against me. Memories of the washing-up area in the Compound flashed through my mind but I pushed them away. What good was a washing-up area if you couldn’t even raise your own child? What good was a nourishment cube if you couldn’t move from one place to another without being tracked? What good was anything without freedom?
Still, hunger was a worrisome thing, always lurking in our thoughts.
I was startled out of my thoughts by the sound of Micah crying. Small sobs poured from him.
“Stop,” I whispered to David up ahead. He turned and walked back to us. Micah had sat down; his face was buried in his hands and his shoulders slumped. How small, how sad and helpless he looked. I reached out to him, stroked the back of his neck.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
“But you’re crying.”
“No, I’m not. We’re not allowed to cry. It’s a rule.” He started to make the Pledge to the Earth sign, his forefinger and thumb held against his forehead in a circle, but I took his hand and held it firmly in mine.
“I say you can break the rules. And it’s okay to cry. But you must tell me why.” Elsa, wide awake and sitting on my knee, reached a little pink hand toward Micah as if she knew something was wrong and wanted to help.
Micah looked up at me with his dirty tear-streaked face, his spiky hair now flat against his head. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“Sorry for what?” David was standing over us, looking down, anxious to move on.
“I broke my shoes. I didn’t mean to.” He started to cry again. “And now you will have to send me back.”
“We would never send you back! You’re part of us now,” I told him.
He stared at me unblinkingly, his lower lip quivering. “Promise?”
“I promise. And you can call us Mommy and Daddy now. That’s what kids call the man and woman who take care of them.”
“I know that. Kids at the village told me. Kids know more than the Caretakers think.” He wiped his nose with the back of his hand. Back at the Village, the night we escaped, he said the other children were whispering about the relocation, wondering if it was true. Yes, the children knew more than the adults realized.
“Good. I’m glad you know what a Mommy and Daddy are.”
“I can really call you Mommy and Daddy?” He asked, between sobs.
“Yes, really.”
David bent and slipped the shoes from Micah’s feet. Both of them had holes worn through at the heels and near the big toes; holes big enough for David to put his fingers through. In the dim light of the moon, I looked at the bottom of Micah’s feet. The skin was red and raw.
“My feet hurt when I walk. I can’t do it.” He was almost wailing now.
David led us to the edge of the stream and told us to sit. “Put your feet in the water,” he said. “Rest awhile.”
I slipped off my shoes; they were almost worn through, too. Slowly Micah and
I dipped our feet, toes first, ever so slowly, into the cold dark water. How good it felt once we got used to the cold! Flowing over our feet and ankles, the moving water seemingly transferred its energy to us. I held Elsa in front of me and let her soft pink feet touch the water. She pulled her knees up at first, then straightened her legs so her feet, too, were in the water. Those tender pink feet, not yet callused from constant walking and working.
David was busy gathering something from beside the water. Micah kicked his feet; the water splashed me. He laughed when I looked surprised. He was having fun, as a child should. As every child should. Then I splashed him and we both laughed. I put my arm around his shoulders, his small warm body close to me. I truly felt like his mother at that moment.
David was back with us, carrying some green things. “Cattail leaves,” he said. “And moss. We’ll line our shoes with these. It will help for a while.”
It did, and, following the stream, heading toward the shadows of the unknown, we walked on.
CHAPTER TEN
* * *
EARTH PROTECTION AGENTS
Day 3
Steven kept the team walking past dusk, until total darkness settled around them, heavy as wool blankets, making them stumble over rocks and broken branches, slowing them down. He switched on his torch long enough to find a flat area with trees a few feet from the stream. One of the trees had a faded yellow notice nailed to it: Private Property No Trespassing. Steven ripped it off and tossed it to the ground. There was no such thing as private property anymore. The Republic owned everything. The Citizens owned nothing.
“Here,” he said to the group, shining his torch on them. “This is where we bivouac.” Their tired faces angered him. He didn’t feel tired; why should they? He felt energized, as eager to find his prey as a hungry wild animal. “We’ll keep sentry in groups of two. Nigel and Winston, take the first shift. Adam and Guy, second shift. Julia and me, last shift. When you feel you can’t stay awake any longer, wake the next team. You cannot leave your post while on duty. If you have to relieve yourself after your shift, go as a team. Go only when the next team is awake and on guard.” He deliberately paired seasoned members with new members, the experienced with the novice, and the strong with the weak. “Sleep facing away from each other. Sleep lightly, wake easily. Any questions?” He spat his words with a razor-sharp tone that did not invite any.
Nigel and Adam took their positions at the edge of the area, back to back, one looking upstream, the other downstream. The dark moving water was louder than the sounds of their breathing.
Winston and Guy sat propped against tree trunks, arms across their chests, hands under their arms for warmth. The night air was cool and smelled of musty wet leaves.
Julia stretched out on the ground.
“Get up,” Steven commanded. “Sit like they do, against a tree.” He pointed to Winston and Guy. “Their backs are protected. They’re less exposed, less of a target. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“Got it, what?”
“Got it, sir.”
She pulled her backpack close and leaned against a broad tree trunk. Steven leaned against the same tree, on the other side. He could smell her hair, the clean smell of sanitizing solution. It was a sweet, lemony, yellow smell. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and waited for sleep. It took a long time. The lemon smell kept him awake. It was a distraction. Steven hated distractions.
He reviewed the assignment he had been given. Unbelievable, he thought. A total of six people. Two men, two women, a boy and a baby. And nobody knew if they escaped all together or in separate groups. They might even have a gun. Fools. The Authorities must be angry, losing control of those children, those workers. The Authorities were the ones who should be punished, for allowing this to happen. He closed his eyes, trying to decide who was more likely to have a gun. Odds were in favor of it being one of the men. But still, he’d have to be cautious approaching anyone they encountered.
Julia’s breathing had become slow and regular. It had a gentleness that made his face feel warm, his mouth dry. He tried to picture what she looked like, softly asleep and vulnerable. The rustle of leaves nearby startled him. An animal, pale white in the moonlight, passed by his outstretched legs, dragging its long scaly tail behind it. When he bent his knees and pulled his feet close to his body, the animal rolled over, motionless. Damn possum, one of the ugliest animals on earth. He’d sit motionless and listen to Julia breathe. Focus, he told himself. Focus.
Should he tell his team about the missing gun? No, why should he? The Authorities hadn’t told him; only the lowly guard at Re-Cy had. Information was power, and withholding it was the same as withholding power. If they could do it, so could he.
Finally, the possum slunk away, dragging its prehensile tail through the leaves.
He heard Winston and Nigel waking Adam and Guy. He watched as their dark shadows walked past him, then back, settling against trees nearby. He wished they weren’t so close. He wanted to be alone with Julia.
Finally, he dozed off into a light sleep. Light enough that he was still aware of the sounds around him, muffled noises that floated into his mind, his dreams. Winston coughing. Damn! That cough could be heard at a distance. He opened his eyes, giving up on the idea of sleeping for the moment. He heard Julia shifting her position, the sound of her legs moving on the ground.
The night dragged on and on, cloudy, with the stars blurred and indistinct. The moon slowly slid across the sky, slipped behind branches of the trees, then reappeared in open spaces.
Adam touched his shoulder. He must’ve slept more than he thought as it was already time to switch guards. Steven stood, his feet numb from sitting so long. Julia was awake quickly, pulling on her beret, picking up her backpack.
“Stay on guard,” he said to Adam. Turning to Julia, he commanded, “We’re going to relieve ourselves. In the woods. Come with me.”
She hesitated, then followed him. She stood with her back to him until he was finished.
“Now you,” he said.
“Turn your back,” she said.
“Turn your back, what?”
“Turn your back, sir.”
“That’s better,” he said as he slowly turned. “Remember that in the future.”
* * *
They took their positions, back-to-back, one looking upstream, the other looking downstream. A bat swirled over their heads, then flew in circles over the stream. Another bat appeared, followed by another. Soon there was a black cloud of them, screeching, and hunting for food.
Steven shifted his weight and felt Julia’s slim back against his, warm and firm. She leaned forward, moving away from him. But again, he shifted his weight against her back. “We’re a team. We need to lean on each other for support.”
“Yes, sir.”
A few minutes passed. Steven slid his hand back, laying it on her leg. She didn’t move. He began to rub his hand up and down her leg. Moving slowly, she reached into her backpack, groping past the items, until she found what she needed. Pulling the item out of her pack, she aimed it above and away from them and squeezed the nozzle several times, shooting large volumes of the mixture in the air.
The ammonia.
The smell was acrid. The bats flew away.
She pointed the bottle at Steven.
“You wouldn’t dare,” Steven said.
“Yes, I would. Sir.”
He took his hand off of her leg.
He would be patient, for now. But not forever.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
* * *
EMMELINE
Day 4
I thought as I walked. How many days and nights of this could we endure? Three nights of walking so far, but it felt like ten times that. We were so hungry. David said we could go ten days with absolutely no food, but that didn’t mean much to my growling belly. I ate the bugs we caught: grasshoppers, beetles, and caterpillars, because I had no other choice. David told me the names of the bugs and I quickly le
arned where to find them. They lived under rocks, in deep grass, and on leaves. I became a hunter and a woman determined to feed her children. The insects crunched when I bit down and exploded into wet masses in my mouth. I forced myself to swallow even though nausea always passed over me in relentless waves.
Micah didn’t complain, but he also didn’t smile anymore. David’s arm was more swollen and red than before; he cradled it in his other arm, so I carried Elsa and Micah carried our supplies. Our progress was slow. Our thin-soled shoes were padded every day with fresh moss and cattails, but they barely protected our swollen feet.
We occasionally found other small things to eat besides bugs. Some berries, if we were lucky, and a few hard apples that made our mouths pucker. We even ate the bitter leaves of cattails. I chewed whatever we found into a pulpy mass and fed it to Elsa with my fingertips. It was hard to find food in the dark, but at least we had the stream. It was larger now, wider and deeper. David said it would soon be a river. Whatever it was, we always had plenty of water, and I was thankful for that.
Today may be better. That’s what David and I whispered to each other. That’s what we said to Micah. He nodded, but still he didn’t smile. We didn’t smile, either. We just walked in the dark, placing one foot in front of the other, every sharp stone on the soles of our feet a painful reminder of what we were doing.
The harsh clanging of the bell for half hour till dawn rang out. My heart jumped. Confused, I looked around, but it was too dark to see more than a few feet in front of me. David looked frightened. Micah’s face was twisted, ready to cry. We all stopped, frozen like statues mid-stride. Where had that bell sound come from? We had been walking away from the Compound for four nights. Had we become disoriented and walked in a circle? My mind swirled as panic overtook me.
