by S. J. Bryant
"Wait here," Aart said. "The next patrol."
They crouched down low. Their hunched run had only taken them so far into the field so when the next patrol came, Aart could still hear the enforcer's footsteps on the ground.
The back of his neck tingled but he didn't dare turn around for fear of rustling the crops.
The footsteps crunched past and faded into the night.
A bead of cold sweat trickled down Aart's forehead. "Keep moving."
Jonas scurried through the crops, southward. They paused at the edge of each road that divided the fields but didn't see any more enforcers.
They entered South Field A and Aart felt a pang of familiarity. An orange light glowed from the hut that he'd shared with the other workers. He wondered how they were doing, probably better than he was.
They passed the deposit bin and Aart slapped his hand to his neck where his chip had been. The skin had closed over, leaving a jagged scar.
His stomach twisted. "Jonas!"
Jonas skidded to a stop and twisted around. "What?" His wide eyes glowed in the moonlight.
"Your tracking chip!" Aart wanted to hit himself, how could he be so stupid? The enforcers would have been alerted that Jonas had left his area. They were probably following their progress right now and would be waiting at the fence.
Jonas' shoulders dropped. "You nearly gave me a heart attack! They don't track me."
"What?" Aart looked over his shoulder, expecting to see the glint of enforcer weapons over the tops of the crops.
"They don't track me. My work as a medic takes me all over the plantation and they got sick of the tracker always going off."
Aart let out a sigh. "They don't track you."
Jonas shook his head.
Aart's heart returned to a steady rhythm and the adrenalin drained out of his veins.
"Come on, we need to keep moving." Jonas led them around the edge of the workers' hut and then on to South Field B. Instead of going straight south like Aart had when he'd tried to escape, Jonas took them south east.
The sharp lights that marked the fence came into view, but on this side of the field some were broken and shattered. Bright shards of glass littered the ground beneath them.
"What happened?" Aart whispered.
"A few years back all the workers in this field rebelled. The enforcers weren't ready for it and the workers managed to break some of the lights; they even got hold of an enforcer's gun and killed two before more enforcers arrived."
"What happened?"
"What do you think? They all died."
"And they never bothered to fix the lights?"
Jonas shrugged. "After what happened to the workers, who would try it again?"
"But surely the enforcers must suspect that this is how people are getting out."
Jonas shrugged, and his eyes darted along the length of the fence. "We should keep moving."
"Whoa, what about the patrols?" Aart clapped his hand on Jonas' shoulder to stop the other man scurrying into the light.
"Oh, yes."
They crouched at the edge of the crops and watched the fence. The broken lights created pools of shadow, just wide enough to hide a person if they were climbing.
This had to be it, Delia and the others escaped here, maybe even found a way off-planet.
Something moved in the distance and Aart and Jonas crouched lower. An enforcer. He patrolled the line of the fence, moving in and out of the circles of light. His eyes roved between the waving fields and the fence.
Aart shivered. Those eyes looked like they could see through everything.
The enforcer went past, his boots so close to Aart's face that he could see the tiny scrapes and scuffs on the toes, then was gone.
Aart and Jonas waited another minute, until they could no longer see the enforcer moving in the distance, then they stood and ran for the nearest unlit section of fence.
Aart leaped up and snatched the top. Sharp barbs dug into his palms, replacing the cuts from his last escape attempt which had healed over. Blood trickled down his wrists.
He glanced over his shoulder. In the distance he could see another enforcer coming toward them. The circle of darkness would protect them for now but once the enforcer got close he'd see them, or the light at the end of his gun would sweep across them and they'd get a round of bullets in their spines.
Aart's breath caught in his throat.
"Come on!" Jonas whispered from beneath him.
Aart edged his hands sideways so they weren't clutching the barbs and then hauled himself up. His weakened arms quaked and gave out, dropping him back to the dirt.
He landed with a heavy thud and curled into a ball as new pain erupted through his side.
"Aart!" Jonas dropped from the fence and crouched beside him. "Aart, get up!"
Aart bit his tongue to stop from moaning and dragged his aching body up.
The enforcer strolled toward them; not much longer and he'd be able to see them, even with the broken lights.
Aart glanced back to the field of waving crops.
"No!" Jonas said and shoved him toward the fence. "We can't go back now."
Aart stretched up for the fence and his arms shook.
"Come on!" Jonas reached down and boosted Aart up.
Aart's upper half teetered at the top of the fence and he lost his balance. He tumbled over and landed hard on the other side.
Pain lanced his shoulder and hip and he groaned.
Jonas landed on his feet at Aart's side.
"Come on! We've got to go, the enforcer is nearly here."
With Jonas' help, Aart dragged himself to his feet and staggered away from the fence. Trees loomed in the darkness ahead and they threw themselves behind the thick trunks.
The light from the enforcer's torch swept across the bare ground and hit the trees, casting long shadows away from the fence.
Aart held his breath but the torchlight moved on. Aart risked a glance around the side of the tree and saw the enforcer sauntering on along the fence. He hadn't seen anything.
"We made it," Aart whispered. He placed a hand on his chest where it felt like his heart might break through his ribs at any moment. His newly-healed limbs burned, but at least they'd made it over.
"I'm never doing anything like that again," Jonas said. "And how are we supposed to get back?"
"Get back?"
"Yes. We can't stay out here forever, they'll notice we're missing and then they might think to turn my tracking chip back on."
"Oh." Aart hadn't thought that far ahead. His sole focus had been getting over the fence, but Jonas had a point; as soon as dawn arrived, the enforcers would know he was missing, and then what? And even more pressing; now that he was over the fence, how was he supposed to find Delia?
"Uh," Aart said.
Jonas groaned and leaned against the tree. "We're doomed."
"No. Everything's fine."
"Then what do we do now?"
Aart bit his lip. "Do you have a knife or something?"
"What? Of course I don't have a knife!"
"Okay, just thinking. We need to get your chip out."
"Oh no." Jonas clapped his hand over his neck. "I saw what you did to yourself. You're not doing that to me."
"We have to. If they turn the chip back on they'll know exactly where we are."
"I'm sure they won't even think of it; it's fine."
"Jonas…"
Jonas grimaced and let his hand fall away from his neck.
"I'll be as quick as I can."
"Can we at least move away from the fence? The last thing I want is an enforcer spotting us while you're tearing my neck open."
"Good idea."
They moved deeper into the trees until the branches blocked all sight of the fence. Jonas slumped to the ground.
"I wish I'd thought this through more," Aart said. "You had scalpels and things back at the hut, not to mention a bloody flashlight."
"Like this?" Jonas said, and a
small light appeared in his hand.
"At least one of us has their head on right!"
"I just don't want you to tear open my carotid."
"I'll do my best."
"Great."
Jonas tilted his head to the side and held the light up to reveal the slight bulge beneath his ear; the tracking chip. Aart glanced around for a sharp rock or knife, but found nothing.
"I'm sorry," Aart said. He leaned in close and pushed the edge of the chip against Jonas' skin. It distended his flesh, like a creature trying to break free from a membrane sack.
Aart bit his lip and kept pushing.
"Ow!"
The chip tore through with a spurt of blood and dropped to the ground.
"Ow!" Jonas said again and held his palm to his neck. Blood dribbled out and soaked his shirt.
"Sorry," Aart said.
"Blasted thing," Jonas said. "Take it away while I try to fix this mess."
Aart snatched the chip from the ground and jogged back to the fence. At the last line of trees he drew back and hurled it as hard as he could. It didn't quite reach the fence but it was the best he could do.
He trudged back through the forest, thoughts racing. He should have planned better. He had no way to find Delia and the others; all he'd done was trap both Jonas and himself outside the fields.
Jonas hadn't had to work the fields, but now, if they ever caught him, he'd probably be put in the shed, or worse, put to death. It would be all Aart's fault, and for what? He'd made it sound like he knew exactly where Delia was, but now that he was on the other side of the fence, he realized he knew nothing at all.
Jonas sat just where Aart had left him, except that he'd torn off the bottom of his shirt and wrapped it around his neck. Blood soaked through and dribbled down his chest.
"All right, freedom fighter," Jonas said. "Next move?"
Aart bit his lip and looked around. What the hell was he supposed to do now?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
"Can I have the flashlight?" Aart said.
Jonas handed it over and Aart held it close to the ground, then walked in a slow circle around where Jonas sat. Blood and footprints covered the ground near Jonas and back toward the fence, but in the other direction, nothing.
"What are you doing?" Jonas said.
"Trying to find footprints or something. If so many people have come this way, they must have a way of contacting each other, or following each other."
"Or, if they even got this far, they wandered around alone until they died of thirst and hunger."
Aart turned away so Jonas wouldn't see his expression. What if Jonas was right? What if Aart had led them both out here, to almost certain death if the enforcers ever found them, all for a pipe dream? If people had escaped and formed some kind of community outside of the fence, they couldn't exactly leave a trail to it because the enforcers might find it. But then how would new people get there?
Aart cursed himself. He should have waited longer. If he'd just taken the time to collect more information he might have found the secret. Maybe people inside the plantation knew the way; a sympathetic enforcer, or one of the old overseers—not Cole, obviously, but perhaps one of the others.
But he hadn't waited; he'd rushed in without thinking things through, like usual, and just like usual he'd ended up in trouble.
"Well?" Jonas said.
"I'm thinking."
"You said you knew they were here…"
"I do—well, I think they are."
"Aart—"
"I know. I'm sorry. I didn't think this through."
"Great." Jonas hung his head and held the bloody rag against his neck.
Aart made his circle bigger and kept scanning the ground and trees. There had to be something, a footprint, a scrap of cloth; he found nothing.
"It'll be dawn soon."
Aart glanced up. The faintest glow lit up the distant horizon; Jonas was right. And as soon as dawn came, the enforcers would find them missing then follow Jonas' tracking chip to the fence; then what? They were only a short distance from it now. The enforcers would be on them within two hours.
"We've got to move," Aart said.
"Where?"
"South." Aart tried to sound more confident than he felt.
"You're sure?"
"It's the best we've got, and we can't stay here."
"Right." Jonas lurched to his feet, staggered.
"Whoa." Aart grabbed his shoulder and held him upright.
"Blood loss."
"It's okay, I've got you." Aart hooked his arm under Jonas' shoulder and took most of the other man's weight, he held the torch out in front of them with his other hand.
They staggered on through the trees. Aart did his best to keep them going south but Jonas' weight kept dragging him sideways and when he looked behind, he saw a clear trail of broken branches and blood through the trees. If the enforcers came looking, it wouldn't take them long to find them. But what choice did he have? He couldn't just leave Jonas in the forest to be found.
Sweat poured down Aart's face, and he realized with a twist of his stomach that the sun was high enough that he didn't need the torch anymore. He shoved it into his pocket and tried to move faster.
"We're not going to make it," Jonas said.
"Sure we are," Aart said.
"I think I can walk on my own."
Aart glanced at his companion; he didn't want to let Jonas fall, but on the other hand, Aart's shoulder ached and he was struggling to keep them both upright. "Are you sure?"
"Won't know until I try." Jonas stopped and untangled his arm from Aart's shoulders. He wavered but stayed standing. "There, good as new."
"Right," Aart said.
Jonas shambled forward.
"You keep going," Aart said. "I have to hide our trail."
"But what if they catch you?"
"If I don't try to hide it, they'll catch both of us."
Jonas grimaced. "Don't be too long."
Aart followed their trail back a short distance and then set off east, creating a false trail as far as he dared before doubling back. He then did his best to rearrange the broken tree branches and to fill in their footprints on the path leading south. It wouldn't pass more than a cursory inspection, but he hoped the enforcers would be racing after them and not take notice.
Aart followed Jonas' trail with a branch dragging behind him so that it dusted over their footprints. It wasn't much, but he didn't have time to hide their tracks properly.
He caught up with Jonas far sooner than he'd hoped. The other man lurched from tree to tree, leaving smears of blood on the trunks.
"Jonas!" Aart ran to him and grabbed his shoulders.
"I think you may have nicked that carotid after-all," Jonas said, voice husky.
"You just need a rest."
Jonas nodded.
Aart scanned the trees but there was nowhere to hide, and they couldn't set up camp here, the enforcers would find them.
"Do you think you can climb?"
Jonas snorted.
"It's important. I can help you some, but—"
"I'll do what I have to."
Aart helped Jonas stumble east, away from their main trail, to the base of a thick tree.
"We're going up," Aart said.
"What?" Jonas' eyes bulged.
"We can't outrun the enforcers, not until you're better. Our only chance is to hide. People never look up; everyone knows that."
Jonas' gaze traced up the tree. "I don't think I can."
"You have to. Up."
Aart placed Jonas' hands on the lowest branch and then snatched his legs, hauling the other man up into the tree. Aart dragged himself up and then helped Jonas higher. More than a dozen times Aart was sure his limbs would give out, but he stayed strong through sheer force of will, until the lower branches hid them both from the ground.
Aart settled Jonas into the wedge of two intersecting branches where he hopefully wouldn't fall, and then scurried back dow
n the trunk to make sure they hadn't left a trail.
Smears of blood dotted the branches, Aart did his best to wipe these clean but then he heard voices. He leapt up into the branches and dragged himself up into the first layer. The voices got louder and he had to stop in case he drew their attention. He could still see the ground and the surrounding forest through gaps in the leaves.
"The trail ends here."
"It can't end. Did you see how much blood they've lost?"
Aart strained his neck and saw three enforcers standing in the trees a short distance away. Their faces glowed red and they clutched their guns with white knuckles.
"Can we just hurry up and find them?"
"Cool it, Henderson."
"Easy for you to say! You weren't patrolling their bloody hut last night. If we don't find them, Mackay is going to kill me."
"Has anyone spoken to him yet?"
"No, no one knows where he is. He left early this morning and hasn't been seen since."
"Lucky for me," Henderson muttered. "If we can just find the bastards before he gets back, he might let me keep my head."
"They were heading south. We just have to keep going that way and we're bound to find their trail again."
"Except if they actually went east back there and this is a false trail. That would explain why it suddenly ends."
"I knew it," Henderson said. "I knew we should have gone east."
"Then you go east. I say we keep going south."
"They're two escaped workers; what match are they going to be for us? It's no danger if we split up."
"Right, exactly," Henderson said. "So I'll go back and follow the trail east, you go south. We'll keep in touch."
Henderson turned and jogged back the way they'd come while the other two pushed on through the trees.
Aart stayed clinging to his branch even though his shoulders ached and his arms threatened to give out. He couldn't risk moving until he was sure they were all out of sight.
He forced himself to wait for ten minutes after the last of their voices and footsteps faded from hearing. Only then did he lift himself off the branch and drag his exhausted body higher to where Jonas sat.
"What happened?" Jonas whispered.
