Savage Run (11 page)

“
Don’t watch that trash,”
Nicholas says.

Mai mutes the TV and crosses her arms in
front of her chest. “You’re an easy target, Heidi. The media will
go after you, but you have to ignore them. Besides, they don’t know
anything.”

“
How do they even know
about me?” I ask.

“
Drones,” Nicholas
says.

That’s what the media uses to get the
pictures they want.

“
And there’s not much we
can do about it. Not even during the obstacle courses themselves,
I’m afraid. Anyway, let’s get you settled, shall we?”

At the Nissen hut, he opens the garage and
we step inside the hallway. The garage door closes in a clangor
behind us, making me jump. On either side of it is a long row of
doors without handles, and blue tube lights hang in the ceiling,
stretching all the way to the end. It makes Nicholas’s face look
pasty. The corridor is completely quiet, so much so that I wonder
if anyone is here at all. When we get to door number nineteen,
Nicholas pauses for a moment.

“
Listen,” he states, “just
because you’re small, doesn’t mean you don’t have a chance.” He
peers down at me and gives me half a smile. “And I can imagine
biking around Culmination all these years, has made your legs
strong.”

Did I tell him what my work is? I can’t
remember at the moment. “Thanks,” I say, for a lack of anything
else to say. And for some reason, my heart beats a little
faster.

He inserts the keycard into the slot.
Nothing happens. He flips it over and tries again. Still nothing.
He keeps trying, in every possible direction, but no matter which
way he puts the card in, it doesn’t work. “Let’s go down to the
office and get a new key.”

We exit the hut and walk side by side toward
the office. The cool breeze plays against my cheek as the copper
moon shadows us down the path. Passing Unifers, every one of them
salutes Nicholas. I can’t imagine what it would be like to command
so much veneration or power. And it’s strange to be treated with
regard by someone who does. Is it all part of his plan to get me to
trust him so I am in his debt? Of course it’s a ridiculous thought
because there’s not a thing he would need from me, is there? Yet,
why is he acting so kind toward me, almost friend-like, if it isn’t
to get something from me? Use me in some way? There can’t be any
other explanation.

Walking down the hill, we pass other
participants along the way. I want to sink into the ground when
they whisper and shoot me disapproving glances.

“
Just ignore them,”
Nicholas says.

I didn’t realize he noticed how
uncomfortable their looks make me feel, but at least it confirms
that I’m not crazy and making things up.

“
So tell me again why you
decided to break the law and then break the law again by signing up
for the most dangerous obstacle course known to mankind,” he
says.

“
Well…I…uh.”

“
You don’t need to hide
anything from me, Heidi. What we talk about is between
us.”

Precisely what a Master
would say to make me open up, and later use what
I
say against me. Does
he really believe that I’ll trust him just like that? Besides, it’s
not like I even know what trust is; I’ve never lived around it or
seen it in action, only fear and anger, and blame. Always the
blame. Well, that’s not completely true. Ruth and Gemma I could
trust, yes, but to think I could get to that level of trust with
President Volkov’s son is outright ludicrous. Trusting a superior
is something foreign—a mythical concept that doesn’t exist. A
dangerous road riddled with pain.

When I look at him, I see that his eyes are
trained on my face.

“
Did I say something
wrong?” he asks.

“
No.”

“
I’m President Volkov’s son
again, aren’t I?”

He’s referring to our conversation on the
aircraft, of course. And again I feel that tinge of guilt. I brace
my arms in front of my chest.

“
When I become president, I
plan to restructure our entire society. No more hierarchical
classes.” He studies my face as if trying to read my reaction. Is
he just saying that to hook me, to trick me into trusting him? What
does he want in return? If I’m not careful, I might fall for it—he
seems so genuine. “That’s…great. Rather ambitious going completely
against your father and grandfather like that.”

“
Ambitious. Now there’s one
thing my father did right; he raised me to believe I can get
whatever I want. I suppose I’m rather exhausting that
way.”

“
That explains a lot.” The
words just jump out before I can think. Nicholas seems to have that
effect on me—make me speak my mind even when I don’t mean to. It’s
both terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. But mostly
terrifying. “I mean…”

He starts to laugh. “Most people try to
impress me or get something out of me. It would seem that neither
of those are on your agenda.”

I don’t hear any anger in his voice, but it
doesn’t mean it isn’t there. “I’m sorry. I should be more
respectful.”

He stops walking. “Don’t change. Your candor
is one of the things I appreciate most about you. Dealing with
politicians these days, you never know where anyone really stands.
But you’re not like that.”

My father took most of my comments as
insults although I rarely intended them that way. “Maybe if I were
free like a politician, I’d be different.”

“
Freedom doesn’t change a
person—only makes them more of who they already are.”

I wish I were free.

“
You know the first thing
the Unifers bombed when they started taking over your
country?”

“
No.” We didn’t learn much
about our country’s usurpation in primary school.

“
The Statue of
Liberty.”

“
What’s that?”

He smiles a little. “It was a statue of a
robed female figure—an icon of freedom.”

“
Oh.” Of course it would be
the first thing to go.

“
Freedom I have found is an
illusion. Once you think you have it, you’ll realize that you’re
still not completely free; no one is. It’s a perfect ideal never to
be had.”

I shake my head. “I think freedom is a gift,
and what you choose to do with that freedom is what makes us
completely free.”

He shakes his head. “It’s okay—you don’t
understand.”

All of a sudden, I get the feeling I’m back
around Master Douglas with his haughty demeanor. “Just because I’m
a Laborer, doesn’t mean I can’t figure things out.”

“
That’s not at all what I
meant.”

“
Then what?”

“
That you’re still so pure
and unspoiled from all the politics and corruption that soils our
society. All I’m saying is that sometimes, it’s better to not have
a choice. It’s just nice to not have all that responsibility,” he
says.

Something occurs to me. He must feel the
pressures of being the next in line for president. “Are you saying
you’re afraid of responsibility?”

“
Sometimes. Sometimes the
burden is so great—” He pauses and glances at me, then exhales
before continuing. “—and when mistakes inevitably are made, the one
at the top is the one to blame
.”

“
But it’s so much better
to at least be free to make those mistakes.”

“
I’d have to disagree.”
The muscles in his jaw tighten.

If he knew anything about a Laborer’s
circumstances, then he wouldn’t be defending what he’s saying. Is
he completely ignorant to the way a Laborer lives? To how we have
absolutely no say in our lives? Before I can say anything further,
we’ve reached the office. The front doors part as we approach them,
and Nicholas walks in ahead of me. After we get a new key, a Unifer
drives us back to the Nissen Hunt and Nicholas opens my door
without a hitch.

He stands aside. “Mai and I will be back
later to brief you about tomorrow.”

I step inside the room, and the first thing
I notice is the wooden, bed—completely bare except for the thin
pillow. Where’s the mattress? Even at home I have one. Not a very
comfortable one; I can just imagine the feel of the boards pressing
against my back before sleep takes me. And the toilet—a hole in the
floor just like Nicholas said. Back home I have a toilet. The room
stinks of urine and it’s cold. Goosebumps appear on my arms. I
hadn’t expected my living standards to decrease when I signed up
for this.

“
I know the accommodations
aren’t exactly ideal.”

“
I’ll be fine.” I’m already
shivering.

“
There’s a blanket under
the bed. Mai and I will be back in a couple of hours for the
briefing.” He closes the door and I’m left to myself.

I should try to get some sleep. I lie down
on the bed and squeeze my eyes shut, the boards cold and rigid
against my back. My hands move to my chest, and I imagine my
mother’s locket being there. If it were, then I’d caress the smooth
surface, and it would send me to sleep. A few minutes pass and my
mind is processing like a high performing computer. The thought of
the computer reminds me of Sergio—stupid Sergio! Now I can’t get
his Eastern Republic accent out of my head. Pteetsa. If I only were
a bird I could fly away. I wonder why he agreed to make those IDs
for Gemma and me when he could easily have kicked us out and been
done with it. Gemma. Tears spring into my eyes. From the very
innermost part of me, I wish I could go back to that moment, the
very moment when I made my decision to run—the moment that killed
her. I hear her voice screaming for me to run. Run, Heidi, run! I
wipe a tear which runs down on the side of my head toward my ear. I
shouldn’t have run. There, I finally can admit it. A faint cry
escapes my lips. She always sacrificed herself so I could get what
I wanted. I knew that. Innately. And this time was no different.
Just like the time she fell out of the tree and broke her arm. She
was terrified to even get up in the tree. I could see it in her
eyes and in the way her fingers trembled. But for some reason I had
to have her climb with me. It was always this way—me needing her
more than she needed me. To do things with me—the one who gave me
courage—meaning. And in the end she was the one who gave the
most—not me. I selfishly just took it. Until there was no more to
take. I feel another tear trail down from my eye. I made the wrong
choice. I made the wrong choice! Why did it have to turn out this
way? Why did I have to make that decision?

I sit up. I can’t think about her right now;
I need to remain emotionally stable—strong—the strongest I’ve ever
been, like Ruth always told me. Never tire, she would say. If you
tire, you die. But she doesn’t know what I’ve done. I’m sure she
wouldn’t give me that advice now. I fall to the hard bed and pound
my fists into the wood and scream into my pillow.

I can’t lie here anymore, driving myself
crazy like this.

I stand up and start to pace around the
small room. I continue on with the mindless pacing for hours—I
think. I can’t really tell, and I don’t bother to check the clock.
At some point the door opens and someone slides a plate in, but I
don’t eat it. I know I should, but I can’t. Instead, I try to
figure out what I could have done differently. There must have been
some way I could have saved Gemma and me both. But the conclusion
is always the same. If I die, she dies. If she dies, I live.

When Nicholas opens the door, my eyelids
feel thick—swollen. I turn away so he won’t see me like this.

“
I’m here to brief you
about tomorrow.” He closes the door and the room smells faintly of
cologne. “Heidi.”

I swivel halfway toward him.

“
Is everything okay?” His
voice is low, a hint of concern in his tone—or maybe it’s
disgust.

“
I’m fine.”

“
You don’t look
fine.”

“
Where’s Mai?” I ask,
wanting the attention off of me.

“
We ran late and President
Volkov needed to meet with her.”

I sit down on the bed, my eyes lowered, my
hands stuffed between the wood and the back of my thighs. “So
what’s it like, exactly, to be President Volkov’s son?”

He seems to acknowledge that I need
something—anything—to distract myself with. “What’s it like?” He
moves deeper into the room and pockets the key card. “No one has
ever asked me that before.” He gazes out into the air and his face
goes stiff. “It’s always a power struggle. And I never feel like
I’m truly free. Restricting.”

What? I never thought being a Master would
be restricting. And it sounds completely ridiculous when he states
he’s not free. Our eyes connect for a moment, but I quickly avert
mine.

He continues. “It would be so freeing if I
didn’t have to play by his rules anymore. But being his son,
there’s no escape.” He sits down next to me on the bed, and goes on
to ask, “What’s it like being a Laborer?”

“
No one’s ever asked me
that before.” When he smiles, I smile. “It’s restrictive, too. Way
more restrictive than I’m sure it is to be a Master. I just feel…I
mean…you know, don’t you?”

“
I have yet to visit a
Laborer compound or associate with your class. You’re actually,
believe it or not, the first Laborer I’ve spoken with.”

“
You don’t have Laborers
working for you?” I ask.

“
They’re all Advisors or
Masters. Only the secondary Masters have Laborers work for them.
Once one reaches a certain level, one only associates with Advisors
and Masters.”