Independent Study (31 page)

Tomas studies Raffe across the darkened street. In the silence, I think of Will and his betrayal during The Testing. Tomas believed he could not be trusted. I insisted Tomas was wrong, and we almost died. I would not blame Tomas for walking away from me now. Instead he pulls me close and says, “No. I couldn’t live with myself either. Let’s go.”

United, we walk back to where Raffe waits with our bicycles. I pull the Transit Communicator out of my bag, turn it on, and tie it to the middle of my handlebars with shoelaces I took out of a pair of boots. Between the Communicator’s compass and the map book, I should be able to get us there and back without getting lost or turned around.

The map showed a number of ways to get to the airfield. My choice is a route two miles longer than the others. A road just beyond the revitalized boundaries of the city. Speed is important, but speed will mean nothing if we are spotted. Three people riding down the city streets in the middle of the night would attract attention.

Raffe says nothing as we pedal to the east. Revitalized streets give way to those abandoned to time. The pavement is bumpy and buckled. Using the dim light of the moon, I steer clear of the most damaged areas and keep riding. Finally, we reach the road that heads to the south. Here the pavement is smooth and in perfect repair. I feel my shoulders tense as I glide along the asphalt. The road’s condition acts as a warning. Pavement is only this well tended if it is important to the United Commonwealth Government. Though I doubt officials would travel in the dead of night, we need to take care.

The glowing display of the Transit Communicator marks our progress. I keep picturing Damone. His lanky body. Angular face. The calculation in his eyes except when he laughed. Laughter transformed him into someone young and carefree. From what he said during the Induction, laughter and fun were not priorities in his family. Success was. Perhaps if he had laughed more, he would not have made the choice to trade my life for his gain. He would not have been a tool for Professor Holt to use against me.

I think of all the lives lost in the Seven Stages of War. Of those who were sent by their leaders into battle and instructed to kill. Did those in charge understand the implications of their orders? Or were they, like Damone, thinking only of what they hoped to gain?

We are less than a mile from our destination when Raffe asks us to stop. “Do you think the two of you can tell me where we’re headed? The only thing this way is the old air force base.”

“That’s where we’re going,” Tomas says.

“Why? You wouldn’t have seen the warning signs during Induction, but Cia did.”

“Someone isn’t paying attention to the signs,” I say. “There are people living inside that fence, and I want to know who.”

Raffe looks like he wants to push for an explanation, but I cut him off by putting my feet on the pedals and going forward. If he doesn’t want to follow, he doesn’t have to. But he does. As we pedal the last mile, I see Tomas and Raffe scanning the horizon, looking for signs of whoever might be living in this unrevitalized area. Off to the east, a howl echoes across the plains. A reminder to keep alert for more than human-made tracks.

I spot the fence a hundred yards south of a bend in the road. We hide our bicycles in a thicket of bushes and listen for sounds that we are not alone. Dried leaves crunch under our feet, and the wind rustles grass and tree branches. Other than that, everything is silent.

Taking a deep breath, I put my hands on the fence and climb. Our feet hit the other side at the same time. Raffe starts forward, but I turn back and scan the fence, looking for a landmark to tell us where we entered. The shadows of twisted trees and scraggly bushes spread across the landscape. Nothing unique marks this spot. Digging into my bag, I pull out the extra shirt I packed and tie it near the top of the chain link. There’s a chance someone will see the fabric and wonder at it, but I would rather take the risk than waste time looking for our entry point later. Between the marker I’ve left and the Communicator’s compass, we should be able to find our way out.

“How did you know to mark the fence like that?” Raffe whispers.

Tomas answers, “It’s what we do in Five Lakes to make sure we can find our way back when we venture outside our colony’s boundaries.”

Raffe nods. “That makes sense. So now what?”

I pull out my penlight and shine it close to the ground. “Now we look for tracks and listen for sounds that will lead to whoever lives here.”

I glance at the watch on my bag. We agree to search for an hour. It isn’t much time, but it’s all we can afford if we want to make it back to the residence before dawn.

I watch the compass and walk with my hand cupped around the penlight’s beam—a trick Zeen taught me to limit the amount of light that can be seen at a distance—but juggling the two is awkward. Especially when the terrain becomes less level as grass and trees give way to broken pavement and collapsed buildings.

“You’ll be able to look for tracks faster if you let me hold that.” Raffe reaches for the Communicator, but Tomas’s hand is there first.

“I think it’s better if I take it.” Tomas looks at the readout and points. “South is this way.”

Raffe jerks at every rustle and snap. It makes it hard to focus as I study the ground. I am about to give up when my light passes over a section of dirt in between broken pavement. The dirt is dry and hard, but recently must have been soft enough to capture the tread of someone’s shoe. The print is faint. Too faint for Raffe to understand what he is seeing. But Tomas does. I spot another shoeprint fifteen feet from the first. Then another. The brown and yellow grasses growing through the pavement are stamped down in a manner that suggests someone has recently traveled this way. But as encouraging as that is, a glance at the watch tells me we will need to start back soon. If so, I will have to accept that this trip and the death that came because of it have been for nothing.

That’s when I see it.

A flickering glow in the distance. A fire.

My blood quickens as I turn off the flashlight and slide it into the pocket of my bag. I flinch when my fingers brush the handle of the laboratory knife and then close around it. My hand shakes as I pull it free. Never do I want to be forced to take another life, but I am not naïve. Whoever is by the fire may attack. If so, I will be ready.

Step by careful step, I move closer and crouch behind what must have once been some kind of vehicle. Tomas follows my movements and soundlessly joins me. Raffe arrives moments later. My heart pounds as I peer around the twisted metal and squint into the firelight.

People are lounging near the fire. Behind them is a one-story structure that looks to be mostly intact. I hear the murmur of voices, but I’m too far away to understand what they say. Part of me wonders why they are awake at this time of night. Then a memory flashes. Tomas and I huddle together on another night. Not beyond pieces of twisted metal, but in a small building with no roof. In my memory, Tomas tells me to get some sleep. He’ll wake me in a few hours so I can keep watch for other Testing candidates or animals that might mean us harm. These few must be the ones designated to safeguard their group’s sleep. That means there are more people nearby.

Someone laughs and shouts, “Hey, new guy. Bring us some water.”

“My name isn’t new guy.” The door to the structure opens. A man appears and walks toward the fire. “It’s Cris. If you guys are such hotshots, you should have figured that out by now.”

I hear Tomas suck in air as the firelight glints off a large silver gun strapped to the man’s side. But it isn’t the gun that makes Tomas catch his breath. It’s the sound of the voice, the sight of the blond hair, and the face that is familiar to us both.

The man taking a seat by the fire isn’t named Cris. It’s my oldest brother, Zeen.

T
HERE IS MORE
laughter. More conversation. Tomas’s hand finds mine, but I barely feel his touch as I close my eyes and then open them again. Zeen is still here. Wearing the gun at his side as easily as he wears his smile. My heart soars at the sight of him, even as confusion swirls through me. After so long without a glimpse of my family, to see Zeen’s grin and hear his laugh is like a balm for my soul. I want to race to where he sits, fling my arms around him, and bury my head in his shoulder the way I did when I was little.

But I don’t. Because Zeen is using a different name, which tells me he doesn’t trust these people, whoever they are. No matter how much I want to, I cannot go to him. Not without more information.

I glance at the watch on my bag. The time I set aside for this expedition has elapsed. To return to the residence without discovery, we have to leave now. We need to be in our beds when Damone is found missing. Otherwise, questions will be asked. Questions we do not want to answer. Only, I can’t leave without knowing what Zeen is doing here—I have to stay. Raffe and Tomas don’t, though. I will not risk their futures at the University or their lives just because I’m risking my own.

Leaning toward them, I whisper, “It’s getting late. If you go back to the University now, you’ll make it before dawn. There’s something I have to do first.”

Tomas shakes his head. “I’m not leaving you here.”

“I’m staying if he does,” Raffe whispers.

“This has nothing to do with you.” Tomas’s voice is quiet but firm. “Besides, Cia and I can move faster and more quietly if you’re not with us. The last thing we need is for your heavy footsteps to get us all shot.”

When Raffe looks to me, I nod. “Tomas is right. Head back to the fence. Look for the marker. I promise we’ll be right behind you.”

“You’d better,” he whispers. I watch him retreat into the darkness. Leaves rustle. A branch snaps. Then quiet. I feel a stab of guilt knowing Raffe has to navigate his way back on his own, but I am glad Tomas is with me. He cares about Zeen too.

Tomas and I circle to our left, careful to stay low. My blood races as one woman picks up a shotgun and rests it on her lap, but she doesn’t turn in our direction. When we get closer, I tell Tomas to stay where he is. I am smaller and faster and will be safer on my own. Tomas looks unhappy, but he nods understanding. I dart behind a partially collapsed wall twenty feet away from where my brother sits, and listen.

The conversation drifts from subject to subject. The way game is being stolen from snares. The new housing they’ve been promised will be finished soon. Someone snores. A woman says she’s glad their shift is almost over. One of the men snorts and says she’s just happy to be sliding into bed with her new husband. There is laughter. A few jokes. The minutes pass. My heart jumps when I hear Zeen ask about some kind of schedule. Someone says it will be decided in the next couple of days. The conversation shifts to breakfast and whether they can convince the cooks to make pancakes. I hear Zeen say he’ll mention it to them. He’s going inside to work on boosting the radio signal. There’s some good-natured teasing about him doing extra work to please Symon as all but one of the sentries follow Zeen into the building in search of food. Other than the one dozing by the fire, everything is quiet. But I’ve got the information I sought.

This is Symon’s rebel camp.

That fact alone should make me feel safe. But if Zeen thinks it’s important to keep his identity a secret, there’s a good reason. Until I know what that reason is or why Zeen has come here in the first place, I cannot hope to be reunited with my brother. Luckily for me, there is one person I am certain knows the answer to both of those questions.

I move quickly back to Tomas. Together, we hurry past the twisted vehicle and toward the warped trees I remember passing. When we are far enough away from the rebel campsite for it to be safe, I pull out my penlight. Our feet fly across the ground as the sky lightens. As we run, Tomas uses the Transit Communicator to guide our way.

Dawn is breaking as we reach the chain-link fence. Tomas spots the marker to our left, and we race toward it. I grab the shirt as I climb up and over and hit the ground running on the other side.

“Are you okay?” Tomas asks. “What is Zeen doing here with the rebels?”

“I don’t know,” I say as I reach for my bike. “But, I—” I stop cold as I realize all three bikes are still hidden in the bushes.

“What’s wrong?”

I turn and scan the fence, looking for movement behind the chain link, and answer, “Raffe never made it back.”

Wind blows the leaves on trees. A rabbit races through the underbrush. Otherwise, I see and hear nothing, but I know Raffe is out there. Where? Even without the Communicator to guide him, he should have found the fence and followed it to this location long ago. Something must have happened. Could one of the rebels keeping guard have caught him? Did Griffin or someone else from the University track us to this place?

Fear pricks the back of my neck. I turn toward the fence and Tomas grabs my arm. “What are you doing? We have to get to the University before people know we’re missing.”

“I can’t leave Raffe.” I can’t be responsible for another death. “You’re a fast rider. You can get back before breakfast if you go now.”

“I’m not going without you.”

“You have to,” I insist. “If anyone wonders why I wasn’t around this morning, I can tell them I was working at the president’s office. A Biological Engineering student doesn’t have that kind of excuse. It’s the only way you’ll be safe.”

“I don’t care if I’m safe.”

“But I do. I love you.” Tears tighten my bruised throat. One falls down my cheek, but I keep the others back and say, “You have to go. If something happens to me, I need to know you’ll get word to my father that Zeen is here and that you’ll help get him out of harm’s way. Please.” I stand on tiptoe and press my lips against his. In the kiss I put all my love, hope, and fears. Tomas pulls me close and deepens the kiss. I feel the heat of passion mixed with despair and know he will do as I ask.

Stepping back, I say, “I’ll signal when I get back to campus.”

With one last kiss, he places the Transit Communicator into my hands. “I’ll be waiting.”