Run For Cover (4 page)

I
t is surprisingly cold in the tunnel, especially since my clothes aren’t completely dry yet. My feet squish in my sneakers and my jeans feel clammy against my thighs. I wish I could stop and at least put on a pair of dry socks, but as long as we’re moving, I’m not going to be the one to slow us down. Our close call back at the cabin seems to have lit a fire under Maddie and Evelyn, and neither of them so much as peeps a complaint even after two hours of walking.

A drumbeat of worry keeps going around and around in my head. Where is the tunnel taking us? What if they figured out we went this way and are waiting for
us at the other end? Drew was the last one through the trapdoor — what if he left a message for them to come get us? I don’t see any branches off this tunnel. It goes one way, and one way only. If anyone comes along the tunnel, from either direction, we’re as trapped as we were in the cabin.

Not to mention how unexcited I am about finding out where an Alliance tunnel could possibly lead. I’m guessing it won’t be Chicago.

After a while, Evelyn pulls out her compass. She flicks on her flashlight — again, we’re using only one, to save batteries — checks the needle, and grimaces.

“What?” Alonso asks.

“That’s what I was afraid of,” she says. “So much for heading south to Chicago.”

“Why? What direction are we going in?” asks Louisa.

Evelyn holds out the compass to her. “Due north.”

Louisa looks down at it, biting her lip. I know she’s thinking the same thing I am. Due north means
Canada. Only a few short miles away. Which has just fallen to the Alliance. We’ve been walking for such a long time, we might even have crossed the border already.

“What are we going to do if we end up in Canada?” Maddie says, wide-eyed. “Without our ID bracelets, we’ll be in such huge trouble.”

“Even
with
them we’d be in trouble,” Evelyn says.

“That’s true,” I say. “Now that Canada’s on the other side of this war, it’s going to be ten thousand times as hard to cross the border and get home again.” I know way, way too much about that. I doubt any of my six companions could survive a clandestine border-crossing run.

“Maybe we should go back to the cabin,” Ryan says, slowing down and looking back over his shoulder. “Maybe they’ll be gone by now.”

“That’d be better than getting stuck in Canada,” Alonso says. “Most likely in a war zone.”

“Unless we run into our teachers coming this way,”
Drew says grimly. “We can’t go back. We have to go forward.”

I hate agreeing with him, but I do. In this case, the unknown is a much preferable alternative to what we know is back there. At worst, surely we can find a phone somewhere in Canada and call our parents. I want them to know that we’re out of Mrs. Brewster’s clutches. And once they know where we are, maybe they can come get us.

But as I think about that for the next half hour of walking, I begin to wonder if it’s true. Maybe Ryan’s plan would be better. My parents certainly wouldn’t have an easy time coming to get me from Canada. What if we step out right into a war zone, as Alonso said? What if the Alliance catches us right away? Or what if we get to the border, but there’s no way to get across and get home?

I’m about to suggest turning back when, all of a sudden, the tunnel ends.

Maddie’s flashlight beam hits a packed dirt wall ahead of us. Dirt walls on either side. We’ve reached the end, wherever this is.

Maddie just stands there for a moment, staring at the wall in confusion, so I take the flashlight from her and point it up at the ceiling.

A couple of metal rungs are driven into the side of the wall, leading up to another trapdoor, with the same kind of silver metal lock as the one in the cabin. We all gaze up at the new trapdoor, and I’m pretty sure it’s safe to say we’re all terrified.

“They could be waiting for us,” Evelyn points out. “There could be motion detectors in this tunnel that let them know we were coming. Or security cameras!”

Trust Evelyn to make a spooky situation even worse.

“We haven’t seen anything like that,” I say, trying to sound reassuring.

“The Alliance wouldn’t need to put special defenses on their top secret tunnel,” Louisa agrees. She combs her blond hair back with her fingers and twists it into a braid like she’s getting ready to run.

“Not at this end, anyway,” Alonso offers.

Louisa and Maddie both nod like he’s said something terribly smart, but the only one he’s looking at is Evelyn. She bites her fingernails, blinking at the trapdoor.

“Well, it’s forward or back,” says Ryan. “I say let’s see where we are.”

He takes a step toward the rungs, and although I appreciate his boldness, I can’t stand letting a guy be the bravest one in our group.

“I’ll do it,” I say, jumping in front of him. I drop my backpack, grab the handholds, and clamber up the couple of feet to reach the trapdoor. The lock sticks for a moment, and it’s especially hard with just one hand, but I throw all my weight at it and finally it slides aside with a
clunk.

Cautiously, I lift the trapdoor half an inch and peek out.

The morning light is bright enough that my eyes, used to the dimness of the tunnel, take a minute to adjust.
So the first thing I know is that we’re outdoors, not coming up into another cabin.

As soon as I can see, my eyes land on a stack of white boxes, all of them with the NutriCorp label on the side. They look like they’ve been piled up on the grass, waiting to be taken somewhere. Maybe into the tunnel? So they can be smuggled to CMS? But it seems like a lot of boxes. I wonder if there are that many people planning to carry them all the way back down the long tunnel we just came through.

I try craning around, squinting through the small gap between the trapdoor and the ground. Now I can see small wooden buildings and canvas tents, kind of like a summer camp from old movies, back when kids had fun in the summertime, swimming and doing talent shows or whatever. But instead of kids in swimsuits, the people striding around here are all adults … and they’re all wearing military uniforms and boots.

Alliance military uniforms.

And fluttering above the camp is a giant flag with the Alliance seal on it. They wouldn’t dare fly that so openly in the United States.

So I can be pretty sure our worst fear is true: we’ve crossed the border into Canada, and landed smack in the middle of an Alliance military camp.

I
whisper the bad news down to the others. Maddie lets out a little moan and sits down on the dirt floor, leaning against Louisa’s leg. But Evelyn and Alonso actually look excited.

“Maybe we can find something to help the Resistance,” Evelyn says.

“The what?” Ryan asks.

She rolls her eyes at him. “Don’t you pay attention to the news? The Resistance is fighting the Alliance wherever the military can’t. They’re exactly the people we need to take down the sleeper cells and training camps. If we
could get a message to them, they’d rescue all the girls at CMS.”

“Are you serious?” Drew says, pushing his glasses up on his nose. “I thought the Resistance was an urban legend. Where do you get your ‘news’?”

Evelyn flushes. “The Internet. And maybe some message boards.”

“Oh, message boards,” Drew says. “I see. Very reliable.”

“Hey, I’ve heard of the Resistance, too,” Alonso says, touching Evelyn’s elbow. “I think they’re real.
Somebody
put out that fire in Baltimore. They disabled those bombs in Cleveland. They saved that evacuation train full of people when it ran out of fuel in the middle of Missouri. They’ve been ferrying supplies to the people who are still trying to live in California with no electricity. And I’ve heard they help refugees get into the country when their own homes get too dangerous.” I flinch, remembering kind green eyes behind a makeshift mask and their sad expression when I asked
about Wren. “If it’s not the Resistance, who’s doing all that?”

“Okay,
stop
,” I hiss as loudly as I dare, before Drew can snap back at Alonso. There’s one way I can end their argument, but it involves offering up way too much personal information. So I decide to go with the other option: grumpiness. “I
don’t care
if this stupid Resistance exists. My arms are getting tired, and we have to decide if we’re sneaking out of this tunnel right now or not.”

“We could wait until nightfall,” Louisa suggests. “So we’d be less likely to be spotted?” I could tell she was mystified and bored by the Resistance conversation. Following politics is not Louisa’s strong suit. Yet another thing I like about her. She wouldn’t understand some of the details of my life story, but she’d be my friend regardless. And she’d understand the really important things, like about Wren. Not that I can tell her any of it, of course.

“That’s a good idea,” Ryan says. He gives Louisa a
big smile, but she doesn’t notice because she’s crouching to check on Maddie again.

“No, sorry — I mean, it is a good idea, Louisa,” I say, “but we can’t wait that long. The Alliance might use the tunnel before then.” I peek back out at the boxes. Nobody is near them, but I can’t imagine why else they’d just be sitting there. I’m afraid that any minute a crew of soldiers will show up and start carrying them into the tunnel.

“Can you see anywhere for us to hide?” Drew asks me.

I scan the area again, watching the soldiers for longer this time. Most of the activity seems focused around two distant buildings: a big one, which I’m guessing is the mess hall, because people keep coming in and out with plates of food or tin mugs, and a smaller one, which overlooks a field on the far side of the camp. Soldiers are jogging around the field or doing push-ups and jumping jacks in the middle of it.

“I think we’ve arrived during breakfast,” I say. “And morning calisthenics for the other half of camp. There
are a couple of small buildings and tents near us that might be empty.” I lower the trapdoor again and shake my arm out, thinking.

They’re all looking up at me, six worried faces. I don’t love what I’m about to suggest, but I don’t think I have much choice. If I want them all to follow me, I have to lead. I always figure that’s better than following someone else.

“Here’s what we’ll do,” I say. “I’ll make a run for the nearest building by myself and peek in the windows. If the coast is clear, I’ll signal for you guys to follow me. Okay?”

“What if it’s not clear?” Louisa asks.

“I’ll find another building where it is,” I say, trying to sound confident. “Just watch for me.”

“What if you get caught?” Maddie asks, twisting a lock of brown hair around her finger.

Now, there’s something I really don’t want to think about. “Then come get me,” I say with a smile. Then I glance outside again, make sure no one is
watching the trapdoor, and shove it open just far enough to wriggle out.

Drew climbs up the rungs right below me, his arm behind my shoulders, holding the trapdoor ajar as I squeeze through the gap. I wish it were anyone but him keeping an eye on me, but there’s not much I can do about it. At least he’s strong. I crawl free and he lowers the trapdoor quietly behind me.

Immediately I roll into a crouch and run to the boxes, which provide the nearest place to take cover. On one side they face a tall wire fence, not far from a large double gate, with woods pressing up against it that look exactly like the ones we were just walking through last night. I crouch on that side for a moment, peeking out at the rest of the camp.

That’s when I see the guards off to my left. More important, I see the building they’re guarding, and I see the bars on its windows, and I see the thin figures in black walking in slow circles in a small yard behind another barbed wire fence.

That’s a prison.

The Alliance is keeping some of its prisoners in this camp.

Which means … which means that at this exact moment, I could be heartbeats away from my sister, Wren.

E
very atom in my body wants to leap out from behind those boxes and run right over to the prison. I want to grab one of those rifles from the guards, bash down the doors, and scream Wren’s name over and over until she comes running out and I can throw my arms around her and she can be the one in charge again. How many times have I promised the universe that I would never fight with her ever again if I could just have her back? How many gifts have I offered to give up in exchange for seeing her once more?

I wouldn’t care if we got caught; I wouldn’t care who
had us or what they did with us, as long as we could be together.

But it’s not just me here. I wouldn’t call most of them friends, but there are still six other people underground right now who just want to get to safety. They’re counting on me not to, you know, freak out and attack some prison guards.

I wonder if they would mind waiting there while I ran over and spied on the prison. I so desperately want a closer look at the people on the other side of that fence. If I could talk to one of them, even, maybe someone inside would have seen a nineteen-year-old girl who looks like me but prettier, with a smile that would have made her a movie star back when they still made movies.

But I can’t leave Louisa and the others in the tunnel. Someone could come along and open that trapdoor any minute. We need to find a safer hiding place, and then we need to find a way out of here.

Perhaps if I can stash the others somewhere, then I can go check out the prison.

Or if we find a way out, maybe I can let them go on without me, while I stay and look for Wren.

I force myself to scan the nearest buildings. There’s a small guard shack next to the gate, about ten long strides away from me to my left, but through the tall open window I can see that it’s empty at the moment.

Beyond that, between the gate and the prison, there’s a large camouflage canvas tent, which is probably a dormitory. It faces the prison, away from the boxes and the gate, so the occasional soldier going in and out of it won’t see me as long as I stay in the shadows and don’t move.

Along the side of the tent, close to the fence, is a scraggly pen with several black-and-white goats, a bunch of scrawny chickens, and one tall, grumpy-looking bird with giant feathers. It takes me a minute to recognize it from the pictures I’ve seen in books: an ostrich. The Alliance must have taken it from one of the last
remaining Canadian zoos. Ostrich eggs are probably huge; I bet one egg could feed ten soldiers.

Okay, I’m totally making that up, but why else would they have an ostrich?

Ahead and to the right of me, between the boxes and the big central field of the camp, are a few low buildings, most of which have steps and doors on the sides. The closest one is only a short dash across a sunny stretch of grass, so I take a deep breath and run, throwing myself down into the shadows below it and slamming my eyes shut, hoping nobody saw me.

There are no shouts of alarm, no rifles poking me in the gut, so after a minute I let myself breathe and open my eyes again. Back at the trapdoor, I can just see Drew’s eyes peeking out at me. I think he looks amused, although I really can’t tell from this distance, so it’s possible I’m just looking for reasons to get mad at him. Then again, he’s the type to find my heroism amusing, so I frown at him, anyway.

The window on the back wall of this building is a
little too high for me to see into, so I have to roll a large rock over and stand on it on tiptoes. I grab the windowsill with my fingertips and poke my nose over the edge.

It’s only one room, and it must be some kind of filing storage space, because there are piles of papers all over the two desks and the wooden floor. What is with the Alliance and paper? Why can’t they use digital storage like normal people? I guess this way they don’t have to worry about accessing everything when they don’t have electricity. And piles of papers can’t be hacked. Or wiped out by electromagnetic pulse attacks, like the ones that wrecked all the electronic equipment in Seattle, Cardiff, and Mumbai a few years ago.

Still, come on, Alliance, join the twenty-first century already. Making kids learn to write with pens and pencils again is just cruel. I swear my right arm is still sore from two weeks of relearning to use a pen at CMS.

A movement in the room makes my heart leap up and bang into my throat. Before I lose my grip from the
fright, I see that it’s a guy, probably in his early twenties, sorting through some papers with a fierce expression. Then my fingers slip and I tumble back, staggering off the stone and landing on my knees on the dirt beside it. I hold my breath for another minute, waiting to see if anyone heard the thud or saw my graceful crash. But apart from Drew’s eyes at the trapdoor, no one seems to be looking my way.

I stick out my tongue at Drew and then slide my hand across my throat, shaking my head.
Not this building. Not safe.
I wave for him to stay put, peek around the side of the building, and sprint to the next one over.

Here we’re a bit luckier. There’s a drainpipe I can stand on to hoist myself up to the window, and immediately I see that there’s no one inside. I’m guessing this is where the boxes were stored until they were moved outside. The room is mostly empty, but the floor is free of dust, as if there were something on it not too long ago. A few stray cans and smaller boxes are scattered across the shelves that line the walls. The only sign of life I see is a
gray mouse sauntering boldly around, scavenging for crumbs.

There’s nothing in the room that the soldiers will come looking for. It looks like a perfect place to hide, at least until we figure out what to do next.

I beckon to Drew, then slip around the side, up the steps, and in through the door as quickly as I can. The mouse sits up and stares at me, as if it’s rather offended I’ve come to disturb its stolen meal. It looks even more displeased when Ryan thumps through the door behind me, followed by Evelyn, Alonso, Louisa and Maddie together, and finally Drew with my backpack. If I’d been back in the tunnel, I would have made them wait longer between people, but we swing the door shut and wait and there’s no reaction from outside. So I guess we’re safe for the moment.

“This is perfect,” Louisa says, exhaling. She sets down her backpack and pats the faded red wall. Flakes of paint drift to the floor. “See, Maddie? We’re going to be okay.”
She sounds like she’s reassuring herself as much as anyone else.

Maddie rubs her arms and looks around the small, dark space as if she’s not convinced.

“What else did you see out there, Rosie?” Evelyn demands, her dark eyes shining with excitement. She peeks out the back window, but there’s not much to see in that direction besides the gate and the pile of boxes. There’s a dirty front window out onto the rest of the camp, but none of us want to get too close to that in case we’re spotted.

I tell them about the guard shack, the tent dormitory, the prison, and the filing storage in the building next door. Evelyn and Alonso both light up at this last bit of information.

“There could be important documents in there!” Alonso says.

“We should steal some!” Evelyn says, and he nods. “To take back to the Resistance!”

“And how do you plan to get these hypothetical papers to this imaginary band of merry rogue heroes?” Drew says snidely.

“I don’t know. Maybe we’ll post them on the Internet,” Evelyn responds in the same spiteful tone.

“Well, it’s not safe to go in, anyway,” I point out, trying to stop them from arguing again. “There’s a guy in there right now.”

“I’ll watch for him to leave,” Alonso immediately volunteers. He hurries over to the door and holds it slightly ajar so he can watch the building across from us.

“All right, well, while you do that very important thing,” Drew says, “the rest of us can figure out how to get out of here. Any ideas? Rosie, do you think that fence goes all the way around the camp?”

“I’m pretty sure it does,” I say. “Especially since they have prisoners to keep in, besides protecting the soldiers from outside attack.”

This makes the others look, if possible, even gloomier.

“Maybe we should wait until dark and go back into the tunnel,” Ryan suggests. “If they can use it to get across the border, we can, too. And what are the chances they’ll use it at night?”

“Why wouldn’t they?” Louisa says. “I don’t know… . I don’t want to go back down there if we can help it. I felt like a rat trapped in a maze. And we’d have nowhere to hide if Alliance agents came from either direction.”

“We can’t stay here,” Maddie says. “They’ll catch us any minute.”

We’re clearly about to have a serious morale problem. What everyone needs is some strong leadership. Even if I don’t have any brilliant ideas, I can at least give them that.

“All right,” I say, “Louisa, you and Maddie take turns keeping an eye on those boxes out the back window. I bet they’ll be going into that tunnel soon, so watch for who takes them and when, and maybe then we can figure out how often they use the tunnel.” I turn to Evelyn. She’s going to be obsessed with her dopey document-stealing
plan, anyway, so I know it’s pointless to give her anything else to do. “You and Alonso can keep watching the file storage place next door. But don’t do anything risky or stupid. Remember that getting us out of here is more important than stealing anything, no matter how useful you think it might be.”

“But we could stop the War!” Evelyn protests. “We could be heroes!”

“Not if we’re thrown in an Alliance prison — like, for example, the one right here,” I point out. “So let’s focus on that first. Ryan, you watch out the front window to make sure no one is coming this way. And Drew, you check these last few boxes to see if there’s anything edible in there. I’ll go scout around the camp and see what I can find out.”

“Um, I don’t think we should eat anything in here,” Drew says. He points to the floor, and I follow his gaze to the little gray mouse.

“Ew!” Louisa cries.

“The poor thing!” Maddie gasps.

The mouse is lying flat on the floor in the center of the room, and for a horrifying moment I’m sure it’s dead. I immediately wonder where a giant stash of poisoned food could possibly be going.

Then I see the mouse’s small furry chest rise up and down, and I realize it’s sleeping. Drew pokes it gently with the toe of his boot. “Still alive,” he says. “But at least some of the food that was in here must be drugged. I don’t want to risk it, do you?”

We all shake our heads. I’m even more mystified than before. What is the Alliance planning? Who are they going to put to sleep with that food? I’d sort of figured the boxes might be going to CMS, since the schools are the closest places to the other side of the tunnel. But why knock out a bunch of teenagers? The four of us managed to get out just in time, but I doubt anyone else will even try to escape, especially since the teachers will be on high alert because of us.

I glance at the logo on the boxes again. Does the US government know that NutriCorp is involved with the
Alliance? I’ve seen their stuff in grocery stores everywhere. They could start drugging the whole American population without anyone realizing it.

“So I’ll come with you,” Drew says, jerking me out of my thoughts.

“No!” I say, too fast, and they all look at me as if I’ve just bitten Drew’s ear off. “I mean — I just mean, I’ll be safer on my own. Harder to spot.” That is true. It’s also true that I don’t trust Drew at all. Not only that, but what I really want to do is get close to that prison. I don’t want to explain why to anyone else.

But Louisa and Ryan are both shaking their heads. “You’ll be safer together,” Louisa says. “Please, Rosie. I’ll be so nervous if you’re out there alone. What if you don’t come back? Then what do we do?”

“Drew can watch your back,” Ryan says. “He’s a great tracker. And he might see something you don’t.”

Okay, now I’m offended. Remember how I didn’t want any boys on this escape with us? Here’s one reason why. They always think they can do things better than
girls can, and guess what? They’re wrong. I guarantee I can shoot straighter, start a fire better, and climb a tree faster than Drew or Ryan or Alonso. And Wren was better than Ivan at everything — except lying, I suppose.

I want to argue with them, but I know it’s no good. Drew is going to follow me whether I want him to or not.

“Then you’d better keep up,” I say to him, and I’m out the door before he can give me one of his smug expressions.

He catches up to me as I duck inside the guard shack. I was hoping to find something that would open the big gate, but there’s no magical ring of keys hanging helpfully from a hook on the wall. There aren’t any bolt cutters for the huge links of chain that hold the gate shut. There’s no giant button that says:
press me to escape!
It’s just a tiny room with a broken swivel chair in it.

I’m guessing they don’t use this gate very much. I wonder if we could climb over it without getting spotted,
but we’d have to deal with some wicked coils of barbed wire at the top, which would be the very opposite of fun.

I glance out the window as Drew crowds into the room with me. From this angle I can see clotheslines tied to the back of the dormitory tent, stretching between the tent poles and the fence posts of the animal enclosure. Several Alliance uniforms are hanging up to dry, most of them still pretty wet. I always thought the Alliance had plenty of access to electricity, since they control most of the fuel companies, but I guess even they save electricity by making their soldiers do laundry by hand. My family does that, too, but we pay someone else to do the hard work.

Drew figures out what I’m thinking without me having to say anything. “Let me get them,” he whispers. He darts out and runs to the clotheslines, where the flapping shirts and trousers hide him from sight for a moment. At least, from me and the rest of the camp, but I see the ostrich and a couple of the goats whip around and stare
beadily at the laundry. Drew’s lucky they can’t get out, because they look like they’re itching to pick a fight with an intruder.