Donor 23 (32 page)

Nox held up a water bottle. Kaleb nodded and took the bottle.

“It won’t be long now,” Nox mused out loud. “We’ll see what your so-called friend does. I know you donors, though, and your loyalty—or lack of it. Especially hers.”

Joan wrapped a wet cloth around her neck to cool off as she walked over to Isabel’s tent to look for Reck. As she rounded to the front of the tent, she bumped right into Duncan.

This time she had to catch him, as he lost his balance with his injured leg and ribs. He wrapped his arm around her. She held him up. There it was again—the tingling, her heart beating faster. Joan quickly steadied him, let go, and backed away.

“Sorry. You OK?” she asked, breathing intensely. Consciously, she slowed her breathing.

“Yeah. I was just stretching my leg.” He held a makeshift cane and leaned on it. He struggled to sit down carefully. “Seems like we’re always bumping into each other.”

“Yeah,” she mumbled. “Do you need help?”

“No, I’m fine,” he winced, as he gingerly sat.

Joan remained standing.

“Well, I was just looking for Reck,” she said and started to leave.

“You’re still going? To the canyon?” he asked.

She stopped.

“Tomorrow,” she nodded.

“You shouldn’t.”

“I have to. At least with your warning, we’ll be ready. As Bash says, ‘Forewarned is…’ something. I don’t know.”

“He’s always quoting from something, isn’t he?” Duncan agreed, smiling.

“Yeah,” and a smile crossed her face, too.

“You don’t have to go, you know.”

She turned to leave again.

“Nox’s not going to stop, Joan,” Duncan told her, and she realized he said her name. But the name was said almost in anguish, with sorrow from his lips. “With him everything is black or white. No gray. He’s on some sort of personal mission to bring you to justice.”

“I know him,” she uttered with resignation.

“I know you do.”

She looked at him and said accusingly, with fear in her voice, “What do you mean? What do you know?”

He fumbled with his words, “I mean I just know how he works. How he can make people do things. Do things they don’t want to do. In the short time I’ve been with the TEO, I’ve seen him make people do things. It’s not their fault, you know?”

Joan wanted to sit down with him and talk. She recalled the time they spent talking at the Center. With him she felt the indescribable and exquisite comfort of not having to weigh her words. During that time, she relied on him as one person she could talk to with total honesty—except for the fact that she was a donor. That one huge secret split them apart.
Perhaps all of it was a lie?
she mused.
Perhaps he never knew her. Never understood her. Never could have accepted her as she is.

Emotion welled up in her, and she let it out as anger, “How do you know? You’re not a donor. You don’t know anything about it.”

She started to leave and then turned back.

“Why did you come out here, anyway?” she questioned him testily.
He didn’t have to come
, she thought. Leaving the Alliance took him on a difficult road. He was safe back at the Alliance. He was rich, comfortable. He was a citizen.

Duncan shook his head, as if in disbelief.

“What?” Joan countered.

“If you don’t know…” he said.

“Oh, I see, I’m too stupid to understand. A stupid donor, right?”

He gazed into her eyes and said with resolve, “You are stupid…” He paused. Joan waited for him to add, “if that’s what you think,” but he didn’t.

That night in the family’s tent, the children and Old Owl slept, while Joan and One Who Sees lay near them, both awake. Arrow Comes Back sat outside, discussing strategy with Bash. Light from the small fire danced across the crooks of the tent.

“I’m worried. Worried about Arrow Comes Back. And Bash and Isabel,” Joan whispered. “I don’t want them to get hurt. I don’t get it. Why do they want to go? Want to help me?”

“Lionheart,” One Who Sees said with emotion, “you’re my sister. And Arrow Comes Back’s sister. Of course he’ll help you.”

“But why Bash and Isabel? I understand Isabel is going because Bash is. But why Bash? He doesn’t have to. He’s not being paid by Jack to do this. Not worth his life,” Joan shook her head not understanding.

“I can’t say for sure.” She paused. “You know why I call him He Smiles? Not because he was happy. When I first met him, I could see his smiles hid something dark inside him, something bad happened. A loss.

“I’ve seen you’re special to him. Saw it in his eyes when he met you. Isabel told me the other day you remind him of someone he knew once. I notice now He Smiles, when he does smile, is happy. The darkness is gone.”

“Well, I doubt it’s because of me. He and Isabel seem very much in love,” Joan offered.

“I’m sure that’s a reason, but not the only one. It’s hard to tell.”

They lay in silence for a while, watching the glow of the flames dance on the tent.

After a few minutes, One Who Sees said tentatively, “What about Reck?”

Joan sighed, “Reck and I…we’ve known each other for forever. We always assumed we’d be together. We’re the same.”

One Who Sees sighed, “No one can be more different than Arrow Comes Back and I.”

Joan remained silent.

“I saw you when Yellow Wolf first came here.” She used the name she had given Duncan. “I saw your reaction and his reaction. I saw you at the tree when you saved him—”

Joan interrupted, “I’m not sure what you think you saw. I don’t even know myself. Maybe at one time I had a crush on him. Big deal. He just liked me because he thought I was a citizen. You were a donor, so you know what I’m talking about. If he had known I was a donor when we first met, he never would have…Too much has happened, anyway.”

She reached up and fingered the photo of her parents.

“None of this probably matters. After tomorrow…Well, whatever happens, I want you to know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, both you and Arrow Comes Back, and Old Owl, too. All of you.”

During the night a fine, delicate summer rain had washed the plains, leaving the morning sky crisp and clean. The sun shone warm—soon to bake the earth dry. It cast a purple haze across the plain—like a great, dark topaz. In the trees the birds sang, while the squirrels jumped from branch to branch in seeming goodwill, belying the expected tension of the coming days.

The group, consisting of Arrow Comes Back, Isabel, Reck, Bash, and Joan, prepared to set off for the canyon. One Who Sees ensured her children were still asleep in the tent, before she crawled out to say good-bye. As she tucked the blankets around Quiet Snowfall, she noticed the photograph of Joan’s parents that had previously hung above Joan’s sleeping area was gone.

At the horses, One Who Sees hugged her husband, and he climbed onto his horse. Then she approached Bash and whispered something in his ear. He looked at her with a knowing countenance and nodded.

Joan’s senses were heightened. The air smelled sweet, and the river gurgled loudly. The balmy morning heat tickled the hairs on her neck. As she mounted her pony, it sensed the anxiety in her. She petted its mane, and it pricked it ears, shaking its head violently up and down.

When they rode out of the camp, Crooked Arm stood outside his tent. A commanding presence, he gave a friendly sign and nodded at Joan. Old Owl stood near him. Others stopped their chores and stood silently as the group passed. It was a strange thing. Joan fingered the lion statuette, hanging around her neck.

A hot gust blew, like a fierce breath from deep in the Earth’s lungs. Reck’s pony bucked and nipped Joan’s horse, causing Isabel’s horse to bolt suddenly.

Isabel uttered, “
Que es eso
?” What is this?

Old Owl narrowed his eyes. He recognized the anxiety of the horses. There was something in the air. The animals sniffed the breeze and sensed what it was.

The second day of their journey found them to be a quiet, contemplative group. Joan had a bow and a quiver of arrows slung over her saddle. She wore pants suitable for riding and a collared shirt with a square of cloth, called a bib, buttoned across in front. Isabel, ever stylish, showed Joan how to wear it with the bib portion half unbuttoned, casually hanging across her chest.

Bash had purchased the clothes for her from a trader at the camp. On her head she wore a hat different from the usual hats. The trader had assured them it came from across the ocean. It was light brown, the same color as Joan’s hair, with the left side of the brim turned up and buttoned to the top.

At first Joan balked at Bash spending his money. But he had laughed and pronounced, “As my mother used to say, ‘Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.’”

With a chuckle, Joan had replied, “My mom used to say the same thing!”

Now she shifted the hat on her head, recalling her mother. Bash rode up beside her.

He stated, “You know, I’ve been talking to Duncan over the last few days. I think we can trust him. I can read people.”

“I never said we couldn’t trust him.”

He smiled at her in his wise and inquisitive way, “You seem a little cold to him.”

Joan looked around to see if anyone was close and said quietly, “I told you about him in confidence. It was just a stupid crush on my part. That’s all. You didn’t tell him anything?”

“I know how to keep a confidence.”

“Did he say anything about me?”

“I know how to keep a confidence.”

The horses trudged on.

“I got a little more information from him about your escape.”

Joan just stared at her horse’s mane. “I don’t want to—”

He interrupted, “He said you were climbing back up the wall—the apartment building—to save your father.”

“Yeah, I told you that. Then they pushed him off, anyway.”

“That’s not what he says.”

She turned her head slightly but did not meet Bash’s eyes.

“He related to me that your father jumped off. Nox even tried to stop him. Duncan said your father didn’t want you to give yourself up.”

“So? That doesn’t change anything,” she said crossly.

“He made a choice. It’s not your fault. Parents do that. They sacrifice for their kids. Joan, we all see things in different
ways—see what we want to see. You need to see the truth. It sounds like your father was right. You had to leave, escape. He didn’t die because of you. He died for you.”

She didn’t say anything, and after a few minutes, Bash said, “Well, we should get there soon. The canyon’s right over that rise.”

He kicked his horse on ahead.

34

T
hey left their horses hidden a mile outside the canyon and hiked in on foot. Coming from the north, they approached the canyon at its rim. It was a narrow chasm, but the walls were not terribly steep. Rocks of all sizes and small bushes lined the sides, offering plenty of cover for the group. They observed the camp on the canyon floor below them. Surreptitiously, they crawled among the rocks to make their way to where they intended to mount their surprise attack.

Suddenly, a voice boomed across the canyon. “23, I know you’re here. You’ve brought friends. You’re hiding. Come down alone, and no one will get hurt, including 42.”

It was Nox on his wrist phone, the loudspeaker function.

Arrow Comes Back said, “They must have seen us enter the canyon, but they can’t know where we are.”

“There goes our element of surprise,” Bash noted dryly.

Reck queried, “What do we do now?”

Isabel slunk away into the rocks.

The booming voice again, “23, I have over thirty soldiers here. I hope you aren’t planning anything stupid. Just show yourself. Let’s talk.”

Reck said, “Look. There he is, under the tree.”

Peeking over the rocks, they saw Nox in the center of the camp, standing under a tall tree with large branches. They were about seventy yards away.

“23, you going to come down and talk?” Nox goaded.

Isabel crawled back.

She informed them, “There’re soldiers all over. Hidden in all the rocks over there, there, and over there. No way you can go, Joan. We’d never get you back.”

“I can try sneaking down to get Kaleb,” Reck offered.