The Line (18 page)

Elizabeth saw how worn it was, dirty from frequent handling, as if someone had often taken it from its resting place and looked at it, then returned it unopened to wherever it was kept. She reached out and took it, hardly believing what she knew to be true.

“I should have never taken it.” Jonathan lowered his gaze to the floor. “I didn’t want you to go, didn’t want to lose you. I thought if I took the card, you’d have to stay, and then we could . . .” He stopped himself. He looked up at her, smiling a crooked smile, eyes shining with tears. “I’m sorry.”

Elizabeth looked up from the packet into Jonathan’s face. One of her hands rose, as if of its own accord, toward him. It floated there between them for a moment, and even she wasn’t certain if she meant to strike him or comfort him with it. She exhaled the breath she had not noticed she was holding in and placed her hand gently on his shoulder. She led Jonathan to the bench in the entryway, helped him sit down. When he had recovered himself sufficiently, the two spoke softly, but urgently, for a few more minutes. Then Jonathan left, taking the packet he had brought with him.

 

 

“DID YOU HEAR?” Ms. Moore almost knocked Rachel over with the door as she burst back into the parlor. Rachel had been holding her ear against it, hoping to find out what was going on.

“No!” Rachel lowered her voice. “We
didn’t
hear. Who was it? What happened?”

“We have to move.” Ms. Moore barked the words like a drill sergeant. “If all goes as planned, the Line will be down in about an hour. We need to get the supplies over the Line now, before Peter shows up. He won’t be expecting that, and even if he’s sent word to the authorities, I don’t think there will be time for them to get out here before we’re done.”

Rachel and Vivian both stared at her. After a second Rachel found her voice. “The Line will be
down
?”

“Yes.” Ms. Moore sounded impatient. “Jonathan is taking care of it. That was him at the door.
He
had my keycard. He’ll break into the Crossing Station and use it.”

“There are no Crossing Stations here.” Rachel was confused.

“The brick bunker, Rachel, at the edge of The Property.”

“I thought that was just a maintenance shack.”

“Well, you thought wrong. Rachel, we’ve no time right now for long explanations. Let’s go!”

Vivian started moving automatically, but Rachel stayed where she was. Ms. Moore and Vivian were almost out the door before they realized she hadn’t stirred. They both cocked their heads at her, asking the same unspoken question. She frowned at them as though she were a teacher confronted with two students who were completely missing the point of the lecture.

“It won’t work,” she said.

“It’s the only chance we have,” snapped Ms. Moore. “Now come on!”

“No.” Rachel shook her head. “It won’t work.” She was worried. “Pathik thinks we’re coming tonight. He won’t know to look for supplies just dumped there. And even if he does look, all that will do is get him caught, if the EOs are really on their way.”

Rachel could tell Ms. Moore knew she was right. She could see it by the way her shoulders slumped. She looked completely defeated. Rachel felt terrible for her at that moment.

Vivian must have seen it too, because she went to Ms. Moore and put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured.

“There is
one
way we can still pull it off,” Rachel said. “At least, I
think
it would work.”

Vivian turned to look at her. Rachel fixed her mother with a clear gaze, willing her to understand. And after a very long moment, Vivian
did
understand. “No, Rachel!”

“Can you think of any other way? You know there isn’t one.”

“We don’t have to help,” Vivian said.

“Then we are just like them. Aren’t we, Mom? Just like the people who sent Dad off to die.”

“Then
I’ll
do it.” Vivian crossed her arms.

“And when Peter comes? What do we tell him? He’ll have the EOs crawling all over The Property if you’re gone. You
can’t
do it, Mom. You have to stay here and handle him.”

Ms. Moore studied Vivian, then Rachel, clearly confused.

“Do what? Vivian? Rachel?” Ms. Moore’s voice was a mixture of desperation and hope. Rachel didn’t take her eyes off Vivian. “What would work?”

Rachel was silent. She continued to look at Vivian. She watched her mom’s face as it crumpled and felt a strange mingling of love and fear. She’d made her point.

Vivian smiled at Rachel. She could barely get the words out, but she managed. “Rachel will Cross,” she said, and then she covered her face with her hands, unable to hold back her tears any longer.

Ms. Moore looked at Rachel. Slowly, she shook her head. “You
can’t,
Rachel. The key only works once. We have no way of knowing if the Others still have any keys. If they don’t, you wouldn’t be able to Cross back.”

“I know.” Rachel tried to smile at Ms. Moore. She didn’t manage it.

“You’re right of course. Pathik won’t know to look for supplies. But let your mother go, child. Or me. It’s my son who needs the medicine. Let
me
go.”

“If Mom goes, Peter will know something is up. If you go, who vouches for Mom as her Gainful Employer? How do we explain your disappearance in the first place?” Rachel ticked her reasons off on her fingers. “If I go, you can say I ran away from home—that I was mad about too many chores, or bored all the way out here. Nobody will be suspicious of that.”

Ms. Moore was very still. Her eyes were still on Rachel, but she seemed to be seeing something else. She blinked twice, and her focus returned.

“You are a very brave girl, Rachel.”

Rachel almost started crying then, but she didn’t. She clasped one hand in the other, so tight that the tips of her fingers reddened. “I’m afraid,” she whispered. She wanted to be brave
.
But she wasn’t.

“Oh, Rachel.” Ms. Moore came to her then and held her. “Don’t you see? You can’t be brave
without
being afraid. The brave ones are
always
afraid. But they do what they must, even so.”

 

 

VIVIAN TOLD MS. MOORE they would meet her at the green house. She said she wanted to get some things for Rachel from their place. She rushed around once they were back at the guesthouse, grabbing things, nearly frantic. She found the overnight bag she’d brought with her when they first came to The Property and packed it with all the clothes she could fit. She put the portfolio in it, and some extra digims of herself and Daniel. She got the maps and the copy of the original Bill of Rights from their hiding places and slipped them in, with a hastily scrawled note of explanation. There was no time to think, but Rachel could see she was trying to include everything she thought might help her. Rachel stopped her when she started to stuff in an old, well-loved doll.

“Mom.” Rachel put a restraining hand on Vivian’s arm. “I don’t think I’ll need that.” She smiled to soften the words.

Vivian had to laugh at herself. “No, you probably won’t, will you?” She turned away, put the doll back on the bed, fluffing its dress, arranging its legs so it looked comfortable.

“I could use a hug though.” Rachel felt like she was seven years old just then. Vivian turned back to her, put her arms around her. Rachel hugged her as hard as she could, trying to memorize the feeling.

By the time they reached the greenhouse, Ms. Moore was already heading toward the Line, dragging the duffel bag behind her. Rachel relieved her of the bag, and they all made their way to the spot where Pathik had been two nights before. It was broad daylight still, which made them all nervous. The place where Rachel had stood talking to Pathik was obvious; the grass was flat all the way up to the Line.

Vivian pointed to the flattened grass. “We’ll fluff this up after . . .” She couldn’t continue.

“Well.” Ms. Moore sounded breathless. “Here we are. Now we just have to keep testing it.”

“Testing?” Rachel felt oddly calm.

“Testing the Line, of course.” Ms. Moore put her hand out and pushed at the air. “Still there. When Jonathan fits the key, the resistance will disappear. You’ll be able to walk right through. You’ll need to go fast, get as far away from here as you can, as quickly as you can. We don’t know how long we have until Peter arrives.”

“How will she know where to go?” Vivian stood shivering, her arms wrapped around herself.

“I think I know where Pathik may be camped.” Ms. Moore poked at the air again. “Indigo told me where he stayed when he was here. It might be the same place. I drew a map for you, Rachel, but I doubt you’ll need it. Pathik will be on his way here, after all. Head in that direction.” She pointed toward the trees in the distance. “You’ll probably meet him halfway.” Ms. Moore looked off into Away. “The map is in the duffel bag. I put some letters in there too. There’s one for you. And . . . there are others. I hope you can deliver them for me.”

Rachel nodded.

Vivian joined Ms. Moore in staring at the meadow beyond the Line. Rachel kept testing the Line to see if there was still resistance. She wondered if Jonathan actually
was
somewhere now, using Ms. Moore’s key to help them. Once again, she couldn’t get Ms. Moore’s words out of her head.
You would be surprised at what people you thought were your friends might be capable of doing.

“What’s taking so long?” Vivian was worried.

“Should be any time now.” Ms. Moore still gazed out at Away.

Rachel gasped. Ms. Moore and Vivian turned to see what was wrong, both of them ready, from the looks on their faces, to panic. Rachel was standing with her arm straight out in front of her, wiggling her fingers in the air. “It’s gone,” she said, looking amazed.

E
LIZABETH TOOK A sip of her kalitea. She had brewed a pot for herself and Vivian as soon as they had returned to the house. Now they sat, waiting, as they had for the past two hours. Dusk had crept up around the old house, peeping in through the dining room windows at them. The only sound was the clink of cups against saucers. When the door chimes finally sounded, Vivian jerked in her chair as though she had been shocked. Elizabeth placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, then carefully replaced her cup in its saucer and went to the door.

The man standing alone on the porch was not what Elizabeth had expected. Peter Hill was well dressed, his blond hair trimmed in a fashionable style. That didn’t surprise Elizabeth, since Vivian had told her he was a Professional. The surprise was his friendly, open face. He looked exhausted, but clear, gray eyes met hers, and when he smiled at her she could see it in those eyes, not just on his mouth.

“You must be Ms. Moore.” He extended his hand to her.

“I am.” Elizabeth took his hand and led him inside. “I’m glad you’ve come. Something’s happened. Ms. Quillen is this way.”

“Peter!” Vivian started to rise from her chair when she saw Elizabeth and Peter in the doorway, but collapsed back into it as Peter crossed the room. Her eyes were red and weary looking. Peter knelt beside her, and she began to cry.

“Oh, Peter,” she said. “Rachel’s gone. She’s gone!” Vivian covered her face with her hands, her body shaking with sobs.

“Viv.” Peter gently took her wrists and moved her hands so he could see her face. “Tell me what’s happened.”

“Look!” Vivian pointed to a piece of paper on the table, a piece of paper on which Rachel had spent considerable time composing a dramatic farewell earlier that day. “She left that. Just the typical teenage angst, but I’m so worried, Peter! She took a pack full of clothes, and we can’t find her anywhere. It’s getting dark . . .” Vivian fought to control her tears.

The door chimes rang again.

Peter, who had picked up the note to read it, didn’t seem to notice. Vivian watched him reading, then looked past him to Elizabeth, who raised her eyebrows imperceptibly.

“I’ll just go see who that is,” said Elizabeth.

When she had left the room, Peter let the note fall on the table and moved closer to Vivian. He dropped his voice to a whisper. “I need the items we talked about earlier today. Can you get them for me, Viv?”

Vivian pushed him away and scrambled up from her chair. “My daughter is missing, Peter! That’s more important to me right now than your maps.”

Peter gripped her arm, pulled her toward him. “You had me come all the way out here with the . . . with the item I was given for safekeeping, because you’re in some kind of trouble and want to use it for your
personal
benefit, never mind what risk there is to me, to the movement. How can you stand there now and tell me that the fact that Rachel’s had a tantrum and decided to run away is more important than the maps? Have you forgotten what’s at stake?”

Vivian shook his hand away and glared at him. Peter stared at the red mark he’d left on her arm, breathing hard. When he spoke again his voice was even. “Vivian, I know you’re upset, but I promise we will figure this out. Rachel can’t be far . . .”

“What do
you
need the maps for anyway, Peter?” Vivian hissed the challenge at Peter’s face. For a moment her suspicion and anger almost made her forget her lines, her carefully planned and rehearsed lines. She forced herself to calm down. When she looked back at Peter’s face, she was hoping he saw panic and regret in her expression. “Oh, I don’t care why you want them. I couldn’t give them to you even if I did care. Oh, Peter, I should have been more careful.”

Peter waited, uncomprehending. Vivian leaned toward him, her own voice lowered to a whisper now. “Rachel took the pack I hid them in when she ran away. She didn’t know. I never told her anything about our work. The maps are with her.”

Peter stared at her. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came.

“Excuse me.” Elizabeth stood in the doorway again, this time flanked by two Enforcement Officers. Peter and Vivian stepped apart.