Never Too Far (21 page)

He ran several blocks, turning down different dark streets, until he finally slowed to a stop and looked behind him. Phil wasn’t there. Joe ducked into a tight crevice between two buildings. He bent over at the waist and braced his hands against his knees. His chest was heaving like something alive was in it. He couldn’t catch his breath, and he thought he was going to vomit. Then his stomach convulsed. It felt like it was turning inside out and it was going to punch through his throat and out his mouth.
A moment later he retched, but all that came out was stringy liquid. Nothing solid came out because nothing solid was in his stomach.

Chapter 35

He must’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere because now he was lost. Earlier, he’d found a house where a slender woman lived. She took mercy on him but at a price. She ended up selling Joe two sausages and half a loaf of bread for his ten shekels. That was all the money they had left. He didn’t know if it was a good deal or not, but at that point he didn’t care. He simply wanted to get some food, any food, and get back to Mary as soon as possible.

After he got the food, he tried to find his way back to the rooming house using back ways to avoid the Fulfillment District. However, the more he tried to navigate the streets, the more disoriented he got, especially when another rolling blackout came and the streetlights went out. In time he reached the river, even though he didn’t know how. He climbed up a bank littered with trash and found a bench beside a scraggly tree. Across the river in the slums were flashes of orange light from small campfires. Joe looked over his shoulder, where the city lay in darkness, except for the Green Zone, where the tall buildings still shined with lights. Apparently not everyone lost power in a blackout.

From the corner of his eye, Joe caught a glint of something. Coming up the river was a boat shining a searchlight around in a circle. It sprayed the dark water and the jagged rooftops of the slums. Joe hid behind the tree and watched the boat slowly approach. He made sure to keep out of sight when the searchlight swung past and splashed the ground around him.

As the boat cruised closer, Joe saw the large cannon mounted on the deck and the tall tower with small yellow windows and a thick blade spinning on top. On the side was the ever-present symbol of the Guardian Party. Joe watched as the searchlight swept across the girders of the bridge in the distance. That’s what he wanted to see. He knew if he could get to the bridge, he could follow the streets that they had been on the first day and retrace his way to the rooming house, where he knew, by now, Mary must be panicky because he wasn’t back yet.

Along the riverbanks, Joe skirted around some piles of debris. He kept to the banks to avoid running into anyone, especially policemen or soldiers in armored Arbyters. But that became too difficult. He kept slipping and falling and stepping in mush and muck. So he decided to abandon the relative safety of the riverbanks
. He scrambled down to the dark street, which turned out to be a bad idea.

A white light exploded in front of him. It stung his eyes and made him stagger to his knees as if someone had struck him. He kept his head buried in the crook of his arm to block out the searing light. Then someone yanked him to his feet by his collar and dragged him to the back of an enclosed truck. Black spots kept blooming and spinning in front of his eyes. Only on the periphery could he get any sense of what was happening. He heard the clunk of metal and the sound of a heavy door swinging open. He was lifted in the air by his collar and tossed into a mass of bodies that punched and kicked him until he was crushed against the side of a wall between two big bodies that jammed sharp elbows into his ribs.

The air was stifling hot and smelled of rancid sweat and alcohol. Joe gathered his knees up tight to his chest and clutched them with his arms to make himself as small and hard as possible. No one spoke. The only sounds were belches and farts and coughs. He noticed he was trembling. It was fear, but it was also anger. He was angry with himself for following Phil when his instincts had been telling him all along that it was a bad idea. How stupid could he be? And now look at him. Worst of all, he was angry about how this was going to affect Mary. The longer he was gone, the more afraid she was going to get. He didn’t really care what was going to happen to him. All he could think about was getting back to Mary.

After a while the truck moved. Bodies slammed against him. The truck jounced and rocked over the rough road. His tailbone smacked against the hard floor and sent a shivery stab of pain up his spine. He still couldn’t see anything. The darkness was too thick. Someone shoved him and dug their hands in his back pockets where the sausages and bread were and then yanked them out.

“Hey,” Joe said.

A hand like a vice clamped over his mouth. He couldn’t breathe. Finally, the truck stopped again and the hand let go. The doors swung open and a dim light filled the interior enough that Joe saw a mash of people, both men and woman, turning their faces from the light, except for those people who had black hoods over their heads.

Policeman, dressed all in black with shiny gorgets and helmets, jumped into the truck. They began kicking and jabbing people with rifles to move them toward the exit. The bodies seemed to drop out of the back of the truck like bags. Other policemen on the ground shouted instructions and insults. When they reached Joe, he dodged a rifle butt and scurried to the edge of the truck bed where he leapt into a pile of bodies struggling to get to their feet.

Once again, Joe got shoved to the side. He landed on his arm and then rolled away, but as luck would have it he happened to roll under the truck and out of sight. He lay still for a few seconds, surprised at where he found himself. He thought for sure the policemen would soon find him and
jab rifles beneath the truck and shout for him to get out. He watched more bodies hit the ground as policemen grabbed them and hauled them to their feet. All the while no one came after him. In the chaos, no one must’ve seen him go under the truck.

He realized this could be his chance to escape.

Flat on his stomach, he squirmed toward the front of the truck. As he moved beneath the engine, he accidentally struck his head against its hot metal. He winced, rubbed the top of his head, and then continued until he was directly below the bumper. The shadow from the truck darkened the street in front of him, but off to the sides there was light glowing along the walls of the building. They were in a narrow street. Joe inched forward a little more.

Up ahead was the bottom of what looked like an Arbyter. There was enough clearance that he could scamper beneath and then see if it was possible to make a run for it, provided there was nothing on the other side obstructing his way. All he had to do was make it across ten feet of exposed ground without anyone noticing.

Without a second thought, he bolted out from under the truck, staying crouched as he sprinted furiously to the Arbyter and dove underneath. He raked his chest on the rough ground, tearing a button off his shirt, before he came to a halt and shimmied forward so his legs weren’t jutting out. He waited again. When nothing happened, he knew he must’ve made it without being detected. He crawled on his elbows, swishing his hips to propel himself, until he reached the other end of the Arbyter. As far as he could see, there wasn’t another vehicle in front of him. The street looked clear ahead, dark but clear. This time he really had to make a run for it.

He flew out into the open, rising up to his full height
. His legs were pumping so hard he thought they would come unhinged. He waited for the shouts of policemen and the blast of guns. His insides clenched-up like a knot, while his body felt like it was shaking and trembling. Then he stumbled. He skidded on his knees and his body whipped forward. He would’ve smacked his face against the ground if he hadn’t stuck his elbow out. It cracked against a sharp stone, ramming his shoulder up into his jaw. It felt like his arm had been wrenched loose.

He twirled around and looked behind him. The Arbyter was cloaked in a shadow. His gut unclenched and now it felt like spilled liquid. Behind the Arbyter was the truck, then a splash of light against the walls of the buildings. He’d made it. High in the air, a faint beacon of light swished across the black sky. It must be a searchlight from a boat on the river, which meant the river was in that direction. That’s all he needed to know.

He got up again and ran. He rounded the corner and made his way down the street, and after he turned so he was headed in the direction of the river, he finally slowed his pace. His blood felt like it was speeding around inside his body. He cradled his arm and walked a while in the dark until he came to the crumbled remains of a building where it wasn’t as dark. Some of the light from the Green Zone had found its way there and settled on the ruins. He stopped to inspect the damage to his arm. It didn’t look broken, but there was a gash on his elbow where his shirt was torn. Blood dripped. He tested his shoulder, shrugged it, rotated it, and was satisfied that it was okay. After rummaging in some nearby garbage, he found a soiled rag. He tied it around his bleeding elbow. He didn’t know what time it was, but he knew it had to be very late. Then he remembered the food he’d bought and felt his back pockets in the miraculous hope that the sausages and bread where still there. Of course, they weren’t.

Later, he found some more garbage in the back of a tavern with darkened windows. He scrounged around in the trashcans and bags until he found some bones with meat still on them. He also found some shriveled up carrots. He bit a hunk off one and chewed. It would do. He stuffed the food scraps in his pockets and continued on.

Chapter 36

Dawn arrived by the time he got to the rooming house. The darkness thinned as the sun burned through the fog that rolled off of Lake Mashenomak. Joe was exhausted. His legs felt as if they were wading through sludge. He was worried sick that something terrible had happened to Mary. He only wanted to find her safe, and then to rest. He wanted to lie on the bed next to her, close his eyes, and sleep for a long, long time.

When he stepped inside their room, he didn’t see her anywhere.
She wasn’t on the bed or sitting in the chair by the window or standing in front of the fuzzy TV screen. He didn’t panic, at least not right away, because he noticed the bathroom door was closed. He thought maybe she was soaking in the bathtub, and she hadn’t heard him come in. Joe knocked on the door. He said her name. When no answer came, he turned the knob, pushed the door open, and found the bathroom empty.

“Mary!” he shouted. He ran out into the hallway. “Mary!” he shouted again.

Someone yelled back at him to shut up. Then down at the far end of the hallway, Eve appeared in a violet-colored robe. She motioned with her hand for him to come.

“She’s okay,” Eve said. “She’s in here.”

Joe ran down the hall, brushed past Eve, and darted into the room. Mary sat huddled in a plush red chair. Her head was lowered so that it looked like there was only a hat sitting atop her shoulders. Her thin arms crisscrossed her protruding belly as if she was holding it in place. There was the sound of soft scratchy music and the scent of tobacco smoke and lavender lingering in the air.

When Mary lifted her head and saw Joe, she leapt out of the chair and ran to him. She threw her arms around his neck, buried her head against his chest, and clung to him. He felt her belly press against him and her slender body trembling in his arms.

“She was scared out of her mind,” Eve said. “She was screaming. They were going to throw her out, but I told them I’d keep her quiet in my room until you got back.
If
you got back.”

“Of course I was coming back,” Joe said. “I wouldn’t leave her.”

Mary finally let go and stepped back.

“What happened to you?” Eve said to Joe. “You look like a wreck.”

The knees in his pants were torn, a button was missing on his grimy shirt, a blood stained rag was tied around his elbow, and his face was smudged with dirt.

“I went out to look for food, but the police picked me up, and somehow I managed to get away.”

“Lucky,” Eve said.

“I got something to eat, though.”

He dug in his pockets and pulled out the half-eaten bones and the limp carrots.

“You can’t eat those,” Eve said. “They’re rotten. I’ve got food here. You can have some. The girl already had some bread and jam.”

“Jam?” Joe said.

“You can have some too. I’ll make some for you. Go in the bathroom and get cleaned up. I have some clothes you can wear.”

Joe looked at Mary. He still felt warm and good at finding her safe, but now he wondered if her health was better.

“Is she still sick?” he asked Eve.

“That girl is skin and bones. And she could go into labor at any second. It’s a wonder she’s in as good a shape as she is. I gave her a little medicine to help. Now go clean up.”

In the bathroom, Joe was surprised at how friendly—even motherly—
Eve was being, especially after how cold and suspicious she’d been toward him before. He was also glad she’d rescued Mary. She didn’t have to do that. After all, they meant nothing to her. For all she knew she could be getting into a host of problems by helping them out.