Vagabond

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Vagabond Page 21

by Brewer, J. D.


  I laid on my side and felt rough fingers bound my hands behind me. I felt an ache in my wrists where the zip-tie was taught, and my shoulders burned. My tailbone screamed from where I landed on it, but nothing felt broken. I guess there’s always something to be thankful for.

  There was only the one soldier there with Ono, and I heard the two dogs sniff nearby.

  “She’s connected. Give me more time with her.” Ono tried again. He said it so earnestly. He was either a great actor, or he was still lying to me and thought I was someone important to the Revolution.

  “If she’s so high up, how come she knows you’re a spy? She was up in that tree during your little check in stunt. Doesn’t that seem counterintuitive to your mission, sir? I’m sorry. Even if I wanted to help you out, and I don’t, there’s a higher order on this one. You’ll have to try and infiltrate another way,” the soldier replied.

  That’s when I heard the ripping sound, and knew the truth of it. The solider may as well have sliced me to pieces as he took a knife to my pack. “That’s not necessary! She’s still asleep!” Ono yelled. “I can still salvage it! Don’t do this!” It didn’t matter. The knife tore into my pack and searched every crevice for any intel that may be hidden it.

  The slash.

  The rip.

  The tear.

  Just like that, I lost the only home I had.

  “I was robbed once,” Randolf said. He threw a rock into the field like it was a memory he didn’t want to hold onto. “It was winter, and it was cold, and the bastards didn’t even leave me with my shoes.”

  I gasped. I imagined Randolf trudging through rain or snow or wind without shoes on. It was a death wish. I knew enough by then to know it was, but I didn’t want to believe it. A pack wasn’t everything, was it?

  “The thing about a man and his pack— or, excuse me, a woman and her pack— is that it’s their home.” He always found a way to read my mind, like he could pluck questions or concerns right out of my brain and formulate the right words to put me at ease. “You know how a hermit crab or a snail carries his home on his back? So too does the Vagabond.” He laughed.

  “What did you do?”

  “I sat down and cried. Don’t look shocked. It’s okay for a man to cry, and being homeless is cause to shed a tear or two. So I sat down, because I didn’t know what to do. The weather was already taking a turn for the worse and I was lightyears away from any Colony. And, I was alone.

  “And just as I was about to sit down and go into a full on pity-fest, one of them came back. He had my shoes and a jacket in hand. His name was Roderigo, and he was one of the people who’d just robbed me blind. He came back alone. I had half the mind to cut him down then and there and take all of it, but then, do you know what he said? He said, ‘It’s just not right to leave a man without his shoes.’”

  “That’s how I met Roderigo. He wasn’t much for robbing people, but the two he’d stitched himself to were all he’d known for years. He had only stayed with them out of habit. They’d never taken a man’s shoes before, though, and Roderigo thought it was too much. He bartered his share of the steal to get my shoes and jacket back, then came to find me.”

  I gulped. He’d mentioned Roderigo before. They weren’t pleasant stories, but Randolf never seemed angry at him. Hurt, but never angry or resentful. “Is that why you can’t hate him? Roderigo?”

  He shook his head. “I couldn’t. For every crappy thing he ever did to me— he did one thing right. He righted the wrong that saved my life.”

  Ono carried me. I knew it was him because of his smell. I’d already learned it— memorized it like it belonged to me. I could even smell him through the stale, stuffy burlap nuzzled over my face.

  I didn’t speak, and I didn’t move. I let him think I was still sleeping as he cradled me and moved through the woods. I tried to come up with another plan, but what could a girl do with tied hands?

  “Is the sack necessary? The girl just suffered a concussion and a substantial fall. Fresh air will do her good,” Ono said.

  “Protocol would be best to follow in this situation, sir. She’s a high level Genetic Terrorist.”

  Ono took in a deep breath. “How so?” I felt his chest constrict. He knew it was a lie— a story concocted by his father, but he had no proof out here. He had no way to save me when the Chancellor himself gave a direct order to bring me in.

  “According to the print scan, she worked under her mentor to create genetic atrocities in the lab. She wanted to interbreed human and animal genetics to create super humans. She figured out how to manipulate these genes in the embryo, and if the Chancellor had not put a stop to her, she would have destroyed us all.”

  I held my breath.

  That was all just hypothetical research, and there was no way it should have been taken seriously. Aeschylus even said it wasn’t possible, but we still did theoretical experiments in the stimulators. It was never meant to be taken for anything of value— just a practice in reading genetic markers to see which ones would be best paired.

  Mama? Daddy? Was that the real reason they died? Not because the Chancellor thought I was unworthy, but because he thought I was a Genetic Terrorist? All I’d ever wanted to do was help. I’d wanted to make discoveries that could enhance Humanity, not destroy it.

  If I was honest with myself, even though the experiments were hypothetical in the simulators, I kept getting closer and closer to it in my head. I’d seen what it would look like, right there in my imagination— to give someone the sight of a lion or the hearing of a dog. Since everything shared a common ancestor somewhere along the line, if I could just peel back the layers, I could find the foundations of all life. Every once in a while, things worked out so perfectly in the simulators. If two animals were close enough on the genetic tree, I could transplant positive traits to replace detrimental ones, but we never tried it on actual animals. Aeschylus said it was simply good practice for a foundational knowledge on genetic markers.

  To call me a traitor for my hypothetical research?

  It was laughable.

  “Why are we stopping?” Ono growled.

  “Just got notice on the com. Give me a second to see the order,” the soldier said. We stood there in silence while the birds in the trees began to pick up the songs they’d dropped as we approached. The soldier finally spoke again. “We need to check-in with an Agent.”

  “Check-in?” Ono asked.

  “Yes. The Agent that called in last night’s attack. He saved many lives because of his intel. He’ll meet us a mile before the train.”

  Intel? Did Polo’s attack not work at all? Was Polo okay?

  “If you’re implying something, just say it,” Ono growled.

  “No. No implication at all. It is strange that you’d miss an attack that large amassing just a few miles from here, is all.”

  Ono laughed at this. “You really are an idiot. For the last time. This goes bigger than even that, and you’re screwing it up.”

  “Just like there’s a god in the machine, there’s also a god in small pleasures. Look at this.” Randolf grinned.

  It was just a sunset. There was nothing special about it since there were no clouds for the colors to bounce off of, and I voiced this opinion. “I don’t get what’s so special about sunsets and sunrises. People get so worked up over them as if they hold some type of meaning, when really, it’s just a big ball of burning gas. The universe farted, and that’s the result.”

  He laughed. “That’s the problem with science. It takes away the romance. It’s like a relationship gone on too long, and before you know it, you’re burping in front of each other. All the secrets are gone, and there’s nothing left to wonder about a person. People need an equal amount of knowledge and an equal amount of mystery, otherwise things get boring and there’s nothing left to explore. It sounds like you’ve dated the sun too long, but the beautiful thing about relationships is you can revive them. You can fix them if you find the beauty of change within a pers
on or thing. We have to recognize that we all change on a daily basis. We change so often that we create new versions of ourselves everyday, and this is what allows people to constantly surprise each other.

  “That’s why people go ape-shit over sunsets and rises,” Randolf continued. “It’s a cyclical reminder that you can reinstate your love for ordinary beauty every day. That, even though it’s the same act, it’s always different and new and exciting. If you look, and I mean really look, you can find the ordinary, extraordinary.” Randolf patted my knee. “If you hang on to the science of things too tightly, you forget about the mystery. Don’t ever let yourself lose that, pretty girl, otherwise, life is just a series of gas and stinky farts.”

  Ono carried me the rest of the way.

  I didn’t know if he was coming up with a plan to get me out of this, or if he had no choice but to turn me over. I racked my brain for a way out, but nothing solidified.

  Was he just going to give me up so easily?

  Trust. It wasn’t on my side.

  I knew we were close to the tracks by all of the noises I heard in the near-distance. “It’ll be okay,” Ono whispered as he set me down against a tree. The bark itched, and my back hurt from my arms being tied at an awkward angle. I couldn’t find comfort anywhere, let alone in the words he offered.

  I heard feet shuffle and birds chatter.

  Minutes moved past like this until I head another person enter the area. “Here’s the man of the hour,” the soldier hooted

  Ono laughed. “No way! Tycho?”

  Tycho? Ono told me about him once— his best friend from the Colonies. Maybe Ono’s own gods in the machines were working for him? Maybe his friend would help us?

  “How are you, brother?” The new voice joined in and laughed. It was a laugh that clicked everything else into place. It was a laugh I recognized. I couldn’t see through the burlap, and terror ripped through me. There was no way I could be hearing that laugh. I stirred and struggled against the zip-ties cutting into my skin.

  “What do we have here?” Tycho asked.

  “A high level Genetic Terrorist.” The smugness of the soldier’s voice made me want to scream.

  “Really? Who is it?”

  “Nikomedes Kostas.”

  “I mean, look at Xavi over there.”

  Xavi worked to prop up the tent while Randolf and I chatted. He bit the corner of his lip while he arranged the poles along the fabric, and his long hair had come loose from the hair-tie. It was getting longer than mine, and it whipped over his shoulders and into his face.

  “What about him?” I asked.

  “He’s a walking-talking contradiction, don’t you think? I can’t see how you can stand it. I remember that day I met you, by the way. He was about to kiss you, and I felt bad for interrupting. I didn’t know it’d be your first.”

  I blushed. What he now knew about me was so much bigger than that first moment. He’d assumed he was interrupting a kiss that had been layered on so many others. Now, he’d been with us a few weeks and saw how Xavi never touched me unless it was for warmth.

  “Had I known, I would have slid back into the shadows and let you have your moment. I feel guilty for breaking the course of events that were meant to happen.”

  “Maybe it wasn’t meant to happen.” I frowned. “I’m glad you interrupted, and I’m glad I met you.” I wasn’t as good with words as Randolf was, but I was good with truth. It made this easier to say.

  “It’ll happen, you know. He’s such a bipolar sunset that there are times he’s muted, like this one we are watching right now. But the colors still exist if you look hard enough.” He pointed to the pinks bleeding out of the sky into purples. It was a thin line, but it was there. “But sometimes, he’s like explosions of color— colors you’d never see twice in your entire life. I can see it in his eyes. That boy is falling in love with you, and he doesn’t want to.”

  “Doesn’t want to?”

  “The Tracks are no place for love, puppet. Keep in mind, we all have our inner struggles. There are always forces pulling us away, changing the way we live our lives. For example, the sun. Every part of earth wants to be touched by the sun, but the world keeps spinning. Dark to light and light to dark. It never ends. When it’s gone, the memory of warmth lingers. It clings to us and reminds us that it’ll come back tomorrow, but it still doesn’t take the ache of absence away. There are just certain things set in motion that we can’t control… like orbit and gravity.”

  I frowned. Randolf always spoke in analogies. He got lost in them, and sometimes, they lost me completely too.

  “Look. Don’t take offense to Xavi. He’s fighting through whatever forces are tugging at him. Give him time. Remember, the sun always comes back.”

  The burlap lifted, and the world readjusted. In the peripherals, I could see a shiny, black-uniformed soldier. He was faceless behind his mask, and Ono stood there in one big, messy ball of confusion.

  I wanted to look anywhere but in font of me, but he leaned in and took up my entire vision. My eyes had no choice but to swallow him whole. Xavi gripped the burlap into a ball with his fist, and his face looked ferocious. I didn’t try to speak, but my eyes were screaming. They wanted to explode into waterfalls, but I held the tears back. I wished he’d yank that burlap sack back over my head so I could cry without him seeing.

  The faceless soldier piped in. “You have more intel, I understand?”

  Xavi— Tycho— stayed silent.

  “Sir. Do you have intel?”

  “Where did you come across this one?” Xavi asked.

  Ono stepped up. He exchanged a look with Xavi that I couldn’t decipher. “I found her.”

  Xavi grinned. “Good job. She’s a slippery one.”

  Good job? How could he say that? I wanted to slap that stupid expression off his face, because it wasn’t the same grin I was used to. This one was different. This one was cruel. I twisted and pulled with my wrists, but my hands stayed trapped in the zip-tie. I couldn’t claw at his cheeks and rip his face away.

  Ono’s jaw tightened in protest. “She can give more. Just give me time.”

  Xavi smiled. “Sorry, brother. Your cover is already blown with this one. Take her in. They can crank out intel from her in the labs better than you can out here. She had Celeste in her ear for a while. There’s things hidden in that brain of hers.”

  “But—“ Ono tried.

  “This is a big catch! Go celebrate.”

  Ono knelt down next to Xavi. “You know Tycho?” he whispered.

  But I didn’t answer.

  I didn’t know that boy at all.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Why don’t you join them?” Celeste asked. “I mean, no need to play coy. You look like you have a chip on your shoulder against the Republic. What is it they did to you—“

  “How do you join?” Xavi asked.

  “I don’t know. It’s a mystery, and I almost wonder if they exist at all. Want to hear my theory?” She winked at me. She wanted me to get something. She’d been doing that a lot lately, speaking to me in our own little riddles.

  “Sure,” Xavi grumbled.

  “They are everywhere. Listen to the stories of people doing heroic and ordinary things for the cause. Just by existing out here, you are part of the Revolution. Even if you can never officially claim a rank or plan an attack, you are a Rebel. Just by breathing, you take part in the whole. Think on this. Every time you hop a train, every time you help another Vagabond, every time you thwart a soldier or steal a granola bar, you are rebelling. You are part of the Revolution whether you like it or not.”

  “That’s a load of cr—“

  “Crap? Can you honestly say that? Can you really say that life out here is not one, big screw-you Republic? Does it matter if you officially join the cause when you are a part of it anyways?”

  “I’m going with her,” Ono said.

  “You can’t,” Xavi said. “I have some new intel, and you’re mission has been
altered because of it. You need to go to the debriefing car.”

  “But—“

  I looked back and forth between the two, and hope slipped away completely. There was nothing Ono could do to save me without putting himself in danger, but he wasn’t going to abandon me so easily. I didn’t know how I felt about him, especially as he knelt down next to Xavi, but I did know I didn’t want him to die.

  “Flea,” I whispered. I said it softly so that it held every memory I had of him in those four little letters. I said it as tenderly as our first kiss, so he’d know I didn’t blame him. He was trying, but he needed to stop. “It’s okay.”

  As I spoke a flash of frustration ran across Xavi’s face, and I stared at him defiantly, trying to make my anger bigger than the both of us. Xavi? This was a different betrayal to stomach. After everything he taught me or said about being a Vagabond, he was a Republic spy? He played a roll and played it well. He didn’t love me, and to top it off, he was sending me off to the worst death imaginable.

  “Gentleman,” Xavi growled at Ono and the soldier. “I have something classified I need to discuss with the prisoner. Do you mind giving us a moment? Then you can take her to the barracks-car.” He shot Ono a look to shut him up.

  “But—“ Ono protested.

  “Paramonos, go. That’s an order.” An order. Of course. Xavi was two years older than Ono. It made sense that he’d have a higher ranking and could order his friend around.

  “Liar,” I whispered. “Go to hell. I have nothing to say to you.”

  “Niko. You don’t understand.”

  “I understand plenty.”

  Ono’s eyes widened. “How do you know each other?”

  “Your favorite place to go in the summer?” I asked.

 

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