Running Dry (23 page)

              He tucks his head into my hair, his hands roaming freely, and I feel his breath on my neck.  It smells like a combination of rotten soybars and fermented toe jam.  I am frozen with fear.  Then I feel his wet lips on my neck.

              Before I puke my guts onto his lap, I say as calmly as I can, "Jameson, I can't do this."  He pulls away and looks at me.

              "I thought I'd made myself clear..."

              "No, I mean this.  You and I.  I have a boyfriend."  I don't know where it came from, but it makes him stop.  He turns and looks down at his dangling feet.

              "Oh, yeah.  A Southie?"

              "No."

              "Good, cuz it's against the rules."  There's silence.  "Last time you told me you were single. What's his name?"

              "Oh, I don't..."

              He starts to move toward me again.

              "It's Zane.  Zane Brenner."

Zane

After lunch, my dad takes me around the area and shows me some stuff and introduces me to a handful of people.  The fact that this place seems to operate so much like North Sacto is blowing my mind.  The couple of differences are apparent.  They have dug wells and get their water by bucket loads.  Dad takes me to the greenhouse they have where they grow food.

              "All of this is feasible in Sacto," he says as we walk back to the access tunnel.

              "So, why aren't we doing it?"

              "Old laws, power hungry rulers who won't change.  War."

              "How many people live outside?" I ask.

              "In this area, maybe a couple hundred."

              "What do you mean, in this area?  There are others?"

              "Sure.  It's a big world, Zane.  Not much water left in it, that part isn't a ruse.  But, people find ways..."

              "Why didn't you just take Mom and us out here with you?"

              "Don't think I didn't want to, or try.  It was all about a paper trail.  All of us leaving would have sent major red flags and the people out here don't want that kind of trouble.  Mom reporting me as a drunk meant they weren't gonna hunt me down."

              "What would be the point of hunting anyone down?"

              "They need to maintain the status quo.  If people catch wind of a better thing, you don't think everyone would try to get out?"

              We reach the manhole cover.  I look down at it.  "Then why do they still keep these access points operable?" I ask.

              "Banishment.  Most of the people out here are here because they were sent out."

              "This is crazy," I say.

              "That's life, son."  My dad looks at me fondly as we stand face to face in the daylight.  "I'm glad you agreed to see me.  It means everything to me."

              I nod.  He is about an inch taller than me, but about half the size.  He opens his arms, questioning whether or not I will accept his affection.  Even though I'm not angry anymore, I still have a moment of hesitation.  In the end, I decide it won't hurt anything, so I move toward him and he lets out a sigh of relief as we embrace.

              "If you'll agree, I'd like to see you more.  I think I know of a way to arrange it."

              "How?"

              "I want to make you a messenger."

Chapter 30

Bekka

I meet Frankie at The Watering Hole the next day. She gets in line at the snack bar and I grab us seats at one of the tables nearby.  I still feel sick.  I realize it's probably no coincidence Frankie and I have been put together, but the fact that my only friend is the bad guy is just too much for me to comprehend.  I'm still not even sure I really believe it.  Maybe Jameson is the one not to be trusted.  That is certainly what my gut is telling me.   

              I keep my head low so I don't run into Bones.  I don't feel like talking to him, even if I really should apologize for leaving him in the dust.  Something tells me he isn't too heartbroken over it.

              Frankie sets a basket of soy crunchers on the table.  Before she is even sitting, she says, "What happened to your arm?"

              I look at my arm and try to pull my sleeve down a little to cover it.  Just below the sleeve of my t-shirt is an ugly black and blue mark left from where Jameson grabbed me.

              "It's nothing."

              "So, tell me what happened exactly?" Frankie says, grabbing a cruncher.

              I freeze.  My face contorts and I sink a little lower on the bench.  "Really, it was no big deal, I just hit it on..."

              "No, the date with Bones!  Tell me all about it!"

              "Oh," I breathe.  "Right.  That.  He was nice and all, but not my type."

              "Sorry.  I guess I'm not really sure what your type is."

              "Me neither," I laugh.

              "Well, tell me about that boy from the Westside.  What was he like?"

              "Oh, I dunno.  He was shy, but sweet."

              "Bones is a little like that."

              "True," I say.

              "He was strong and protective."

              "Yeah, Bones is neither of those."  Now Frankie laughs.

              "Right.  I guess Zane just made me feel special.  I'm not sure how to explain it."

              Frankie nearly chokes on the cruncher she had shoveled into her mouth.  "Did you say Zane?"

Zane

Fulton is at his desk when I reach his office.  Nobody else is around so I knock on the wall next to his open door.

              He looks up.  "Come on in, Brenner.  Have a seat."

              "Sir," I nod and sit on a chair across from him.

              "What can I do for ya?"

              "How is the family?"

              "They’re well.  Char asks when you are going to come and play with her again."  He chuckles and taps his pen on the desk.  “She keeps talking about inviting you for a tea party.”

              "Tell her I'd love that."

              "How is everything with you?" he asks awkwardly.

              "Okay, but I need a pass," I look down, ashamed I have to ask him for a favor.

              "No problem."  He takes a slip out of his drawer and begins writing.  "Do you have a date yet?"

              It takes me only a second to comprehend what he's asking.  The sanding operation.  "Yes.  The 22nd."

              "Okay."  He tears the pass from the notebook and hands it to me.

              "Thank you, sir."

              "Be safe, Zane."

              “You as well.”

He nods.

It's around dinnertime when I get to my mother's apartment.  It feels strange to be knocking on the door.  When she opens it, she grabs me and hugs me intensely. 

              "What are you doing here?" she asks. 

              "I needed to see you."  I can't help but note how thin she looks.  She's wearing her robe and slippers.

              "Sit.  Do you want something to drink?"  Before I can answer she’s behind the counter fiddling with a kettle and mugs.

              I sit at the small kitchen counter watching her just like when I was a kid.  "Mom, I saw Al."

              She stops.  "Your father?"

              "Yes."

              "How?  Why?"

              "It doesn't matter.  He said you knew about him.  Is it true?"

              She looks down.  "Yes," she says quietly.  She puts the pitcher of water down and comes to the counter, facing me.  "But, you need to know, I never lied to you, honey.  It was true that when he came back from the war he wasn't the same person.  He wasn't the kind man I had married.  He was troubled and he was set on this mission.  I wasn't sure if it was a good idea for him to be around us and I figured it was for the best to let him go.  Plus, I worried about you boys being sent to the war when you got older and I figured if he could do something about that I should let him try."

              "Do you still love him?"

              "Yes.  I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

              “Why don’t you wear your ring?  He still wears his.”

              She turns and proceeds to heat the water for the tea.  "Is he okay?"

              "He seems to be.  He asked about you."

              She pivots abruptly and looks at me fiercely.  "Are you working with him, Zane?"

              "Yes.  Mom, something is about to happen.  That's why I'm here.  You need to save up your water."

              She nods, but her face starts to twist and pucker and she looks away again, toward the kettle on the burner. 

              "I'm being safe, Mom."

              "I just don't want to lose you too." It's almost a whisper.

              "You won't.  I promise."

              "If there is one thing I've learned about life, Zane, it's that there are no promises."

              "Have you ever thought about going out there?  To No Man's Land."

              "Not much, not ever really, until after you left.  It's been awfully quiet lately."

              "Maybe you should."

              "Maybe."

I make my way to the other side of the tunnel to the cliff to meet Frankie.  She's been helping me with the new messenger gig.  The sun is just slipping past the horizon when I come out of the trees and see her sitting with her back against a big rock.  She's wearing her signature hat and is munching on some food.

              "Hey there," I say, taking a seat next to her.  "Dinner?"

              "Yeah, sorry.  I got off work, ran the messages on the way.  It's the first chance I've had to sit down."  She yawns.

"How was work?"

              "Same as the day before.  You on tonight?"

              "No."

              "Good.  I think you should come across with me.  I have something to show you."

              "What is it?" I sit up a little.  It must be big if she wants me to risk crossing over.

Chapter 31

Bekka

Work is exhausting but only because of how depressed it makes me.  After I'm done I gather my things and wait for Frankie to leave before I follow her out without her noticing.  I feel awful doing it, but I'm also pretty confident I'm not going to find her doing anything out of the ordinary.  I figure I'll follow her home, jot down her address and a few other outings and I will turn it into Jameson, or not.  That part I haven't fully decided yet.  I want to wait and see what I come up with first.  

              The streets are fairly busy this time of day so it's not too hard to blend in while pursuing her at a distance.  I know she lives in a building on the eastside of the factory, but she isn't headed that way now.  It's possible she is going for food somewhere or even to the elusive boyfriend's house.  I contemplate abandoning my mission until another time, because I'm tired and hungry, but then I see Frankie dart into a building, so I sit down on the street curb.

              I spot a small cafe across the street from the building Frankie went into, so I decide to head in and get a bite and relax for a second before heading home.  After I buy the food, I sit at the counter facing the outer window.  The place Frankie entered must be an apartment building, though I don't see any labels or even address numbers on it.  It's a four or five story red brick building with no distinguishing characteristics and doesn't appear to be anything unusual, but I jot down the street names in my notebook anyway while I nibble. 

              Shortly after I take a swig from my water bottle, I spot her coming out.  I throw my stuff back in my pack and rush out the door after her.  Once on the street, I realize I'm maybe a little too close and hang back as much as I can, while still making sure I can see where she turns.  She makes enough of them to make me wonder if she isn't suspicious of someone following her.

              Out of the busy area, she starts heading South which isn't the way she would go home either.  What's she up to?  I'm glad I didn't give up and go home.  This seems so unusual that my interest is peaked, even if I don't choose to turn it in.  How well do I really know this girl?  In truth, not that well.  I've never even asked her to tell me about the boy she claims to be in love with; the one I've never seen.  I really am the worst spy.