Scene
1
As
I neared the fence between Districts, the hairs on the back of my neck tingled,
making my gut clench. When you’ve lived so long on the street, you develop a
sensitivity to certain things or your life is short and miserable. Someone was
following me, or watching me.
Sliding
my hand into my pocket, I gripped the knife and casually slipped into a
darkened alley, scrambling over a pile of rubble in the entrance. Pressing back
into a doorway, I pulled the knife, and waited.
My
stomach gnawed against my ribs, and seconds passed into minutes, but I didn’t
move. The jagged scar on my left arm prickled, a constant reminder against
impatience. Years ago, I snuck through the window of someone’s house, looking
for food, but had to hide in an empty closet when they unexpectedly returned. I
thought I would sneak out when they left, but moved too soon, and the man found
me. Furious, he swung a rusty pipe at me as I fled, catching my upraised arm
and tearing it open. I nearly died that winter, and got stupidly lucky that the
wound didn’t fester and my arm didn’t fall off, but I learned my lesson about
being patient.
Ultimately,
my patience was rewarded. A figure appeared at the mouth of the alley, thin and
gangly, picking its way over the rubble. I held my breath in the doorway and
didn’t move until it was right in front of me. Then, I lunged forward, slamming
it against the wall, pressing the blade to its throat. The figure gasped, a high-pitched
noise of terror, and in that second I recognized him.
“It’s
me!” Stick whispered frantically, his voice reedy with fear. “Allie, it’s me!”
I
breathed a curse and stepped back, the knife vanishing into my pocket as I
glared at him. “Dammit, Stick,” I snapped, keeping my voice to a low hiss. “I
could’ve killed you. What are you doing here?”
“I
was looking for you,” Stick said, his eyes doing that frantic, nervous darting
whenever he was frightened. Frankly, I was shocked to see him outside after
dark at all. His terror of vampires usually kept him huddled in the corner of
the safehouse when the sun went down. “Rat and Lucas told me the news,” he
whispered, leaning close as if someone might hear. “It’s all over the streets.
There’s a whole lotta vamps out tonight. Rumors are, they’re going from
district to district, looking for something. They might be on their way here
right now!”
I
felt a cold fear in the pit of my stomach, almost drowning out the constant,
gnawing hunger.
Almost.
“What
are they looking for?” I asked.
“Does
it matter?” Stick shuffled in place, looking like he might bolt at any moment.
“We have to get out of here. Who knows how close or how many there are? You
can’t outrun them. They can smell when a human is close. You can’t even hear
them coming until they’re right up on you—” Stick was working himself into a
panic, the whites of his eyes gleaming in the darkness, seconds away from
hyperventilating. I shoved him, smacking him into the wall again. He hiccupped
and shut up.
“The
rumors have been wrong before,” I said, weighing my options. “I haven’t seen
any vamps so far. Besides, I haven’t found anything yet, and I’m still hungry.”
That was an understatement. My stomach felt as empty as a limp balloon. It
wasn’t just uncomfortable; I knew from past experience that if I didn’t eat
something soon, I would be in trouble. Starvation is an ugly, ugly thing,
killing scores of Unregistered and even tattooed citizens every year. I’d seen
the effects of not enough food. Wasted away, human skeletons with skin
stretched across impossibly thin bones, their eyes glazed over and dead. I
would not end up like that. I’d already spent too much energy scavenging with
nothing to show for it, and I had no reserves to spare.
But
Stick, who was in even worse shape, stared at me like I was crazy. “You go
back,” I told him, turning away. “I’m going to keep hunting. If I see anything
vamp-shaped, I’ll come back, but I need to find us something or I’m going to
start chewing on my own arm.”
To
my surprise, he didn’t immediately run off, but trailed me like a cringing
shadow to the edge of the alley, hugging the wall as I peered out to scan the
street. “Why are you still here?” I asked without turning around. “I told you
to beat it. Go back to the hideout where it’s safe.”
“I’m
not leaving you alone.” Stick sounded defiantly terrified, like he might burst
into tears if I told him to leave. “S-someone has to watch your back, to make
sure the vampires don’t surprise you.”
If
had been anyone else, I would’ve told them, again, to get lost. Everything was
easier if I was alone. That way, the only person I had to worry about if I got
into trouble, if I needed to hide or run or fight, was me. A second body made
more noise, attracted more attention, had second opinions about where you
should go or what was safe. And groups, though there was relative safety in
numbers, were noisier and even more opinionated. I was a lone wolf; I hunted
alone, scavenged alone, took care of myself. And I liked it that way.
But
Stick, though he was as brave as a jumpy cockroach, was the only other person I
could stand to have around when I hunted, mostly because he was an expert at
sneaking and making himself scarce at the first sign of trouble. He was, if it
was possible, even quieter then me when it came to skulking through dangerous
territory. And his acute paranoia made it nearly impossible for anything to
sneak up on him, vampire or no. I didn’t know why he chose to grow a
semi-backbone now, but if anyone was going to watch my back when bloodsuckers
were lurking about, it might as well be Stick.
“Fine,”
I sighed. “But, just a warning, I’m crossing the fence into District 3. You all
right with that?”
He
looked faint for a second, then nodded.
“All
right,” I muttered. “Let’s go, then. We’re losing darkness.”
Scene
2
An
hour later, the little group stood restlessly at the gates of the Archer
compound, anxious and murmuring among themselves. Caleb and Bethany were
crying; they didn’t want to leave the baby goats, and Ruth was trying in vain
to quiet them. Zeke stood next to Jebbadiah, and for once his face was as blank
and impassive as his mentor’s. The mood was pensive as everyone said goodbye.
Patricia tried once more to convince Jeb to stay, saying we were all crazy for
wandering around looking for a city that didn’t exist. Not when we could stay
here and not worry about cold and starvation and Rabids ever again.
“If
not for yourself, Jebbadiah, then do it for the children,” Patricia said,
rheumy eyes flashing as she gazed over the group. “Surely you can see that this
crazy wandering is only going to get them killed? Let them stay here, if you
care anything for them at all.”
Jeb’s
expression didn’t change; he regarded her with the same cold aloofness that he
showed everyone else. “I thank you for your concern, Patricia, but I will
decide what is best for this family, as I’m sure you will do the same for
yours.”
“Jebbadiah,
you stubborn fool—”
“I
will not separate this family,” Jebbadiah said, a bit sharper this time. “It is
not my place. However, if any wish to remain behind, I will not stop them.” He
turned, sweeping his steely gaze over the group behind him. “Do you hear that?”
he called, almost threateningly. “Any who wish to remain her, to abandon their
faith and stay with the Archers, step forward now.”
Nobody
moved. The only sound was Caleb, valiantly trying to muffle his sobs. Zeke
finally stepped forward, scooped the boy into his arms, and began whispering to
him. Caleb buried his face in his shoulder.
Patricia
shook her graying head at us all. “You all are damn fools,” she sighed, “but I
certainly can’t stop you. Remember, ya’ll are still welcome here, if you change
your mind.”
“We
won’t,” Jeb told her with absolute authority, “but thank you again for
everything. Zeke!” he called, and Zeke returned to his side immediately,
setting Caleb beside Ruth. “Let’s move out.”
It
was a very quiet party that shuffled through the dirt and gravel to the massive
iron gate waiting at the end of the yard. Larry opened the gate for us,
corroded hinges creaking horribly as it swung open, revealing the fields and
the dark woods beyond. Catching Darren, he pointed over the trees, off to the
west. “If you follow the road, there’s a town ‘bout ten or twelve miles from
here. It’s empty; most the folks that lived there either died fast or moved in
with relatives when the plague hit. Ain’t no ammo left, probably, but there are
still some supplies if you want to give it a gander.”
“Thanks,”
Darren said, and Larry clapped him on the shoulder. Stepping behind the fence,
he raised a hand in mournful farewell, as the gate creaked shut behind us and
closed with a bang that seemed to echo across the fields.
Instantly,
I felt very exposed and vulnerable, standing there on the open plain, our safe
haven forever closed to us. Caleb and Bethany began sobbing again, their small
voices unnaturally loud in the stillness. Jeb turned a piercing glare on Ruth,
fervently trying to shush them.
“Quiet
them now, before they bring the whole Rabid population down on us,” he hissed.
Ruth went white, and she shook Caleb’s arm, pleading with him to shush. Zeke
glanced over, looking like he wanted to help, but Jeb snapped his fingers and
began speaking to him intently as they moved forward, so he had no choice but
to follow.
I
slid through the crowd, moving past Teresa and Silas and Darren, bringing up
the rear. Ruth shot me a glare as I approached, but she was so busy with the
sobbing children, she didn’t have anything to say to me as I slipped up behind
them.
“Hey,”
I muttered, bending down so they could hear me. “I saw Patch this evening.”
Both
of them stopped, hiccupping as they turned to stare at me with wide eyes. “You
did?” Bethany whispered. “Is he all right?”
Ruth’s
eyebrows shot up. I ignored her, keeping my attention on the two kids, relieved
that they had stopped crying. “Yeah, he’s fine,” I answered. “He’s so fat from
that milk we gave him he can barely move. He just rolls around on his belly.”
They
giggled, but then Caleb’s face fell. “I miss him,” he sniffed, and Bethany
echoed his sentiment. “I wish we could have brought him with us.” His lip
trembled, on the verge of more tears.
Ruth
shot me a stony look, already blaming me for making them cry again. I quickly
switched tactics. “But he’d be lonely without the other goats,” I said in a
reasonable, cajoling voice. “Wouldn’t you be lonely, if you were all alone
without your sister or Zeke to look after you?”
“I
guess so,” Caleb muttered, sounding unsure.
“Besides,”
I went on, hardly believing I was saying this, “maybe they’ll be goats in Eden.
A whole herd of them; white ones, black ones, spotted ones, you name it. And
maybe your sister will get one for you and you can raise it; your very own baby
goat.”
“What
about me?” Bethany chimed in, her chubby face hopeful.
“You
can have one, too,” I told her, growing more uncomfortable with promises that
I’d never be able to keep. Ruth glared poisoned daggers at me, but she was the
least of my problems. As Caleb grinned and Bethany unexpectedly grabbed my
hand, hugging my arm, I looked up to see both Zeke and Jebbadiah watching us
from the front of the party. Zeke gave me a faint nod, but Jebbadiah was
staring at me, no expression at all in his steely gray eyes.
