Dissidence (15 page)

“We’d better get going if we’re
gonna
meet your friend.”

I yank on my clothes, and once again
,
we climb out the rear window. As we walk through the predawn mist, I wonder what Connor will do once I’m gone. Will I see him again when this is all over . . . if it’s
ever
over? I glance up at him beside me. He’s staring straight ahead with a stubborn set to his shoulders. He still doesn’t like this plan. To be honest, I’m not a huge fan of it myself, but at least he isn’t going to try and stop me.

As we head toward the station
,
the sky starts turning the
early morning colors of sunrise:
pink and pale blue. It’s beautiful. The last time I made this walk
,
it was with Peter. I should have listened to him then. I should have
trusted
him. I guess my problem is t
hat I don’t really trust anyone,
not entirely
,
anyway. I have this habit of thinking
of people as stupid in general—
not
that I’m any better than the rest of them. The only thing I’ve got going for me is that I know I’m doing something stupid when I do it . . .  like right now.

“You’re here. I was beginning to think you changed your mind.” Sal’s standing on the vacant platform beside a stack of wooden crates. “You still can, you know, change your mind.”

“No, Sal, I’m not changing my mind, but thanks for your help.”

“Well, then we’d better get you loaded up before anyone sees you.” He kicks a crate near his feet that can’t be any larger than three foot by three foot. It’s going to be a tight squeeze.

“How long does the supply run usually take?”

“They’ll be back here in three days.”

“All right.”
Not so bad. “Connor,” I’m not sure what I want to say to him. It feels so strange to be saying goodbye after everything we’ve been through together. “I . . . thank you . . . for everything. I . . .”

“Oh, no you don’t,” he interrupts with an abrupt shake of his head. “You don’t think you’re getting rid of me that easy, do you?”

“What?”

“If you think for one second that you’re getting on that train to have all the fun by yourself, then you’ve got another thing coming, Girlie.”

“Connor, don’t be an idiot. You’re here, you’re safe . . . you’re
out
. You know what I’m planning on doing. It’s idiotic, you said so yourself.”

“W
hy is it that you can be an idiot, but I can’t?”

“Because . . . Because Peter is
my
friend.
Because
I
owe him this.
You
don’t owe either of us anything.”

“Girlie, I worked in those mines every single day for over a year. Never once did I
imagine getting out of there,
not until you came along. I owe you more than you know.”

“No, Connor . . .”

“It doesn’t matter who owes who what. The point is, I’m getting on that train, and I’d like to see you try and stop me. Now, if you don’t want to miss it, we’d better get moving.”

“He’s right.” I’d almost forgotten Sal was there. “The train will be here any minute
,
and then the inspectors will be here to inventory the crates. If they see you two . . .”

“All right, fine,” I snap at Connor. “Good luck getting on board. I don’t think they make crates in your size.”

“Actually,” he grins, “they do.” I follow his outstretched finger towards a tall crate leaning up against a railing. How the hell did I end up with the jack-in-the-box sized crate?

I growl at Connor’s amused
grin as I climb inside my pint-
sized container. I was right. It is a tight squeeze—
a
very
tight squeeze. I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them. Both shoulders are touching the sides of the crate
,
as well as my back behind me and my legs in front. When Sal lifts the lid I realize I’m going to have to duck my head between my knees for it to fit on. I’ve never been claustrophobic before, but this is quickly changing my mind.

“You all right in there,
Kaleigh
?”

“Fine,” I gasp, and then take a deep breath as he slides the lid into place with an audible snap.

Almost immediately
,
my neck, back and legs are sore and, of course, since I can’t move a muscle, I start itching everywhere. I wonder how long I’ll have to stay in here. Come to think of it, how am I supposed to get out? My arms are trapped. There’s no way I’ll be able to reach the lid from this position.

“Sal?”
I whisper. No answer.
“Sal?”
I risk a little louder, but still no answer.
Great
,
just great.

Squirming only sends sharp pains down my neck and back, and I’m breathing too fast. I need to calm down. There are cracks in the crate that let in oxygen, but the last thing I need is to hyperventilate in here. I take a deep breath and hold it for a minute, willing my pulse to slow. I just need to wait until I’m on the train, then I can worry about how to get out of this thing. Just as my heart rate is beginning to settle, I hear voices that kick it back into high gear again.

“Morning, Sal.” The inspectors have arrived.

“Good morning.”

“How many this week?”

Sal spouts off a long list of supplies and quantities
that I pay little attention to
. I’m too busy worrying if they got Connor into his crate in time. No one has raised the alarm, so I assume either way
,
the inspectors haven’t spotted him. That’s the most important thing. So what if he gets left behind? I had planned to do this on
my own in the first place
. I never wanted to drag Connor into this with me, but then why am I so afraid he’s not coming now? I’m paying no attention to what’s happening outside my tight confines until the crate I’m in begins to jostle.

“Connor has more room to work with in his crate.” I can barely hear Sal’s voice over the mechanical lift he’s using to load me onto the train. “He shouldn’t have any trouble getting out once the train is moving, and then he can get you out. Are you okay?”

“I’m good,” I lie, my shoulders bouncing off of the sides of the crate as it’s pushed across the floor of the train car.

“Sorry,
”
Sal whispers when I slam into
what I can only imagine is
a wall or another crate. “Take care of yourself,
Kaleigh
.” Then I hear footsteps, and he’s gone.

I have no idea how long it takes to load the train, but by the time it starts moving
,
my arms, legs and neck are so tight and sore that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to unfold my body again. My fingers and feet have fallen asleep, and the tingling is almost painful.
Any day now, Connor.

“Girlie? Where are you?”

About time.
“Over here.”

I hear a few scrapes as crates are moved out of the way. The lid whines a little as he applies pressure to it
,
and then it pops open. Lifting my neck proves painful, and then the rest of my body just as much as Connor helps me out of th
e crate. I’m pretty sure I hear
my knees click. Are knees supposed to click? Glancing around, I can see why Connor had trouble finding me. The car is packed with dozens of crates.

“You all right?”

“Fine.”
I carefully stretch out my entire body, and listen for any other strange noises it shouldn’t be making. 

“So, how long
‘
til we get there?”
Connor asks, shifting a few more crates around.

“Sal said the train will be back at D in three days, so let’s say it take
s
a day to load all the supplies . . . it can’t take more than a day to  get there.”

“Good thing you
r
friend left these
,
then.” Connor grunts, yanking off the lid to yet another crate. Inside is a bag filled with several pastries and a couple water bottles. Oh yeah, sure, he can find that crate
,
no problem.

“So how exactly are we supposed to get off this thing when we get there? They may be a little suspicious when they pop the lids off their crates and find them occupied.” Connor pulls out a couple
of
muffins, and tosses me one.

Ha, now there’s something he probably should have asked
before
he got on board. I make
my way over to the large metal door, fighting to keep my feet steady beneath me, and just as I figured
,
there’s no lock.

“You want to open that thing, don’t you?” Connor sighs. “Why?”

“How else are we supposed to jump off?”

“You want to jump?
From a moving train?
Of course you do.” He doesn’t even sound surprised, and I deflate a little.

“They’ll slow down when they get close to the camp. We can just open that door and jump.”

“That easy, huh?
What are they going to think when they pull into the
station,
and one of their doors are open?”

“That they’re lucky they didn’t lose any cargo probably. Honestly, what’s more likely, that the door jostled its way open during the ride, or that two workers who managed to escape one work camp decided to stowaway on a supply train just to sneak back into another one?”

“Tru
e. I can’t
believe it
and I’m
doing
it,” Connor muses.

“Don’t like my plan? Then you shouldn’t have come.”

“All right, all right . . . relax.” Connor’s laughing
,
and I have to fight the urge to punch him.  What is he doing here? He really is crazier than I am.

We settle on a couple of crates, and Connor passes me a water bottle. I stretch my arms above my head, and this time my shoulder pops. That’s probably not good either.

“So, tell me about this Peter guy were doing all of this for.”

“I told you
,
he’s my friend.”

“
Right,
and you think his being in the work camp is your fault?”

“I know it is.”

“How exactly does that happen?”

I try to figure out a way to explain it without sounding like a moron, but there really isn’t one. “Peter’s smarter than I am. He’s been telling me to be careful about what I say for years
,
warning me that my big mouth was only going to bring me trouble.
Obviously
I didn’t listen. Then, when the train came to take me away, he tried to tell me something was wrong. He tried to stop me from going, but
again
,
I didn’t listen to him. Whatever he did after that to get himself in trouble, he did because of me. I made him suspicious, and then gave him a reason to start asking questions and demanding answers. He’s my only friend, and I set him up for trouble, Connor.”

“Why him?”

“What?”

“Why is he your only friend?”

“I guess most people find me abrasive. Peter put up with me.” I shrug, not really understanding why myself.

“I put up with you,” Connor smirks, “does that make me your friend?”

“Of course we’re friends.” I’m slightly put out that he had to ask.

“Then Peter
isn’t
your
only
friend anymore . . . but I guess we’d still better go and get him out of there,” he adds reluctantly.

“Since we’re friends and all, I should probably know more about you.”

Connor rolls his head on his shoulder to look down at me with darkening eyes.

“What? I told you stuff about
me
.
Your turn.
  How did
you
end up in this mess?” Now I’m genuinely intrigued.

“You mean besides having a crazy person for a friend?”

“Yes, besides that.”

I feel him take a deep breath beside me. His brow furrows, and his lips turn down. Maybe I
shouldn’t have asked.

“My mom was assigned a position in security. She was a small woman, and not particularly strong. It was an unfair assignment. My dad used to worry about her all the time. One night, there was a fight in a bar. She was dispatched along with a few other security personnel. I don’t really know what happened
,
exactly. They were drunk. Somehow
,
she ended up in the middle of the fight. She was no match for those guys. She never made it home.” I can’t suppress the gasp that escapes my lips, but Connor doesn’t seem to notice. “My dad was a mess after that. He really loved her,
ya
know? I mean they were paired with each other, but they really
loved
each other
,
too. I guess he couldn’t live without her because a week l
ater, he killed himself. I
kind
a
went off the rails after that, started
makin
’
trouble, and
shoutin
’
at the top of my lungs about everything that’s wrong with our world. Guess they didn’t really appreciate that. Two months later
,
my mate file showed up on my birthday, and the next day
,
I was on a train to the camps.”