by J B Cantwell
I burst into the quad of the school, empty. I turned around and around. But he was nowhere.
And then he was.
He walked out into the open, and under the moonlight he came to me.
“You’re alive,” he said, disbelief on his face.
I smiled and tried not to sob.
“I am.”
He put his arms around me, lifting me feet up off the ground, and kissed me.
He was the same, and yet so different at the same time. I tasted the salt of his tears as our lips met again and again.
“I’m never leaving you again,” he said.
I struggled to catch my breath.
“Me, too.”
And then I laughed. “I can’t believe you’re here. I thought I’d never find you.”
“Kiyah told me to wait, that she would send you.”
“She did. I thought she was crazy, but she had it right.” I looked around; the campus was utterly abandoned. “There’s no one else here.”
“We hope,” he said. “But who cares? Right now, who cares?”
He was right. We could die right now, and it would be okay. As long as we were together.
I ran my fingers down the gashes, healing now, that lined his face. Marks of the Champions.
He leaned down, way down, and kissed me again.
I got lost in him, in his lips and arms and the safety of his presence. Maybe the Champions were on their way right now. Maybe any moment now they would have us in their sights.
But for now, it was just him and me. Together. No longer lost.
Found.
An hour later, we were on our way, slinking through the streets as dawn began to break. His chip had been removed, though “removed” was a kind word to give it. He’d clearly done it himself, and blood from the wound was sticky on his face.
We were both invisible again.
The Volunteers had moved, I knew that. But only Alex knew where. Soon enough, our feet met water.
“I hope you remember how to swim,” he said.
“How far out is it?”
“It’s out. Come on, put your arms around me.”
He turned his back to me and knelt down. I climbed on and put my arms around his immense shoulders. Then, together, we went out into the water.
It was so cold, just as shocking as it had ever been, but I felt a warmth on the inside that made it not matter.
He cut through the current easily, stood up for the majority of the way out into the buildings that were becoming the new Stilts, just by accident. I wondered if the government would come through here someday and take down these buildings, too.
But that was another day to worry about. Not today.
Today was a day of celebration. It was the first time we’d been together alone for what felt like ages, without the Service or the Champions or the Volunteers on top of us. Around every corner, danger and death awaited. But now we would face it together instead of so painfully apart.
He steered us toward a building that was five feet underwater.
“This is the easy part,” he said.
He turned his body so that the current pushed him into the brick wall of the old apartment complex, then inched us deeper and deeper along the side of the wall. My breath caught in my chest, and I was infinitely grateful for his strength. I didn’t know if I would’ve been able to get across it without him.
“How are the others able to do this?” I asked, incredulous.
“Well, me, actually.”
I laughed.
“Really? You mean you shuttle them across?”
“What’s funny?” he asked.
“Well, I guess I was expecting a boat or something.”
“Nope. Too noticeable. And besides, where would we get a boat?”
“Fair point.”
We reached the edge, and the force of the water was so strong, I wondered how he was able to navigate us through it. Yet it seemed to be barely any trouble for him.
Those strong arms didn’t belong to the Service anymore. They were mine. They were all of ours, any of us who sought to bring the system down.
I lay my head down on his shoulder as we rounded the corner, holding on, just trusting him to take me home. Because wherever he took me would be home. A new home, again and again.
We reached a doorway, long ago blown open by the force of the water. Inside, the building was dark, the water deep, but the current eased up, and after the first few steps up the stairwell, he set me carefully back down on my feet.
I was shivering, though I hadn’t noticed it until now.
“Come on,” he said, holding out his hand. “The climb will do you good. It’ll warm you up.”
I took a couple tentative steps, shuddering with each one, the combination of hunger and cold making my limbs shake with every movement.
“You can do it,” he urged.
Yes.
At the top awaited my people. People I, myself, had freed. Our shared experience meant we were family now. I would die for them to help them. I would lead them if they were willing to follow me.
And suddenly, I realized the reality. It wasn’t just by chance that I’d been chosen to lead so many times while I was in the Service. Something about me made me a leader. It was so unexpected, the realization of a character trait I never would have guessed I had. It’s not like I’d been taught, after all. But maybe it was all those years taking care of myself when Mom was off the wagon.
Suddenly, I couldn’t wait to get back to the Volunteers, no matter where they’d chosen to set up their new headquarters. They were expecting me, waiting anxiously to be reunited with me. And I was coming, full force, in their direction.
The climb seemed to go on forever, even though it was just five floors up. My limbs were stiff with cold.
But Alex never let go of my hand.
“So what’s going on up here?” I asked. “Has Melanie taken charge?”
“Sort of,” he said. “But I think she’s waiting for you. She knows I’ve been waiting for you.”
“How many are left?”
“Sixteen, including me. We picked up a few without chips while waiting in the food lines.”
This brought me up short, and I stopped climbing.
“But, how do you know we can trust them?”
He shrugged.
“It was ultimately up to Melanie, but I think it was a good decision. They are all without chips, living in poverty for years. They want to fight.”
I wondered how many others were out there who were willing to fight.
I remembered the massacre at the Burn, and it made me doubt myself, my whole plan. The last time I’d led a, well, revolution, so many had died. And despite the fact that we all had wanted out of that place, those deaths still weighed heavily on me.
I started up the stairs again, keeping my thoughts, my fears, to myself. This wasn’t the time to bring it up, only moments before I’d be reunited with the group.
But he noticed.
“Are you okay?”
I stopped and turned back.
“Yeah. Sure. I’ll be okay.”
An obvious lie.
He shook his head.
“You can talk to me, you know.”
I softened.
“I know. I’m just … I guess I’m just nervous.”
“Don’t be. You’ve only been gone a week. And Melanie has done a good job with everyone. You’ll see.”
I took another step. I knew he didn’t want me to sugar coat anything, but there was no room for cowardice now. It was all or nothing.
He led me down a hallway on the fifth floor and produced a key.
“It has a lock?” I asked. “How in the world did you get a key?”
“The door was open when we got here. Jay suggested that we search for a caretaker’s apartment, and we found it. We have keys to every door in this building.”
Gold. Solid gold.
Now we could hide anywhere.
He tu
rned the key and opened the door.
The room was pitch black but for the dim light of the moon coming through the few windows. It appeared to be empty.
Then, one by one, figures emerged from the darkness and made their way toward me.
“Mel!” one gruff voice called out. “They’re back!”
It was Jay.
Melanie moved through the small crowd and engulfed me in a hug.
“Oh, my God,” she said. “We didn’t know if we’d ever see you again. Alex told us what happened, that you were being held. How did you get out?”
I remembered the sight of Angela’s head split open on the floor, the bubble of blood that had formed on Kiyah’s lips, the look in Hannah’s eyes the moment I’d stuffed the blood-soaked rag into her mouth.
I wasn’t anxious to talk about it.
“Doesn’t matter,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m out. What have I missed?”
“Oh, a lot,” she said. “Alex warned us about what had happened, that they’d just about figured out where we were hiding. He’s the one who told us we needed to move.”
“Yeah, I got that much,” I said. “How have you been eating?”
She looked down at the floor, and I understood.
“We haven’t. We don’t have any cards, and the grocer won’t sell to us anyway. He’s mostly boarded up shop to anyone without a designation. Someone got to him.”
My heart sank. So it wasn’t just me he’d denied.
I stuck my hand into the cargo pocket in my pants and pulled out my gun and the small stack of ration cards We’d gotten from Jonathan.
“Here,” I said, handing them to Melanie.
She shook her head.
“It doesn’t matter how much money we’ve got. No one will sell.”
“They will,” I said. “Eventually.”
Just like I knew we were hungry, I knew the grocers were, too. They may have some control over the products they sold in their stores, but eating the garbage they sold to the homeless would be beneath them. They depended on the extra cash that the government didn’t have control over just like we depended on them to feed us.
“What do you have left? Anything?”
“Crumbs. We’re getting desperate.”
One thing I knew was that none of the people left here would desert us. They all hated the government system as much as I did, maybe more. It was more than just a handful who’d lost faith, who’d lost people.
It was too late for any of us to venture out again that night, though. And even though the feeling in my gut was tight from a week with no food, I knew that my needs weren’t any greater than anyone else’s here.
We needed somebody on the inside. Knowing this made Kiyah’s death, and Jonathan’s betrayal, all the more terrible.
“Tomorrow night, let’s fan out. We can hit all of the grocery stations in Brooklyn if we play it right. Someone will come around.”
And it would be them who would win the day, who would get all of our business from here on out. Supporting a group of seventeen could result in a large amount of money for a grocer. Those who turned us away might regret it later on.
“We’ll be okay. Someone will sell. Until then, what do I need to know?”
Melanie sighed and walked further into the long-abandoned apartment.
“Well, a couple of us have been sick, we think from the travel through the water combined with whatever might be going around outside. It seems to be some sort of flu, but we’ve been getting by with Jay’s help.”
“I had a stash of antibiotics back at the old place,” he said, his voice gruff. “I kept all kinds of things I’d pilfered after my time at the Burn. Went through all the good stuff, though.”
I couldn’t tell if he thought this was a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe both.
“Anyway, I’ve had enough to bring a couple of you kids around, though three are still recovering. The flu is no laughing matter once it gets into the lungs. We’ve been able to prevent that so far.”
I wondered if he regretted joining our group, if maybe he’d rather have moved somewhere else, somewhere on his own again.
But I didn’t have time to ask him, because a sound was coming, unexpected, from the entrance to the apartment.
My heart stopped.
Someone was knocking on the door.
Chapter Five
Nobody moved.
We all stood staring at the door as if a bomb awaited us on the other side.
Finally, it was Jay who approached. Maybe it was his age or some unknown bravery that he had yet to show, but he looked through the peep hole and immediately opened the door.
On the other side of it, a young man was leaning against the door frame. He was drenched from head to toe from the river, and he looked blue in the dim light of the room.
Jeff.
The boy who’d befriended me back at the Burn. He had made for an escape, but I’d lost him in the fray, knowing he was headed straight for gunfire.
Without a word, he collapsed right in the doorway.
Jay rolled him over so that he was lying on his back. His breath was coming in fast, shallow gasps. Jay carefully moved his head so that he was facing up. His eyelids fluttered, but he did not wake.
Then we saw it. Along the edge of his temple, a wound the size of a baseball was enlarged, visible even beneath his wet hair. It was right where his chip should have been.
“What did he do?” Melanie asked. “Try to bash it out of his head?”
That was exactly what it looked like.
He let out a low moan, and I realized he was shivering even more than I had been when I’d arrived. His body moved in jerky ways with the cold, and I wondered if he would die right there in front of us.
“Someone help me get him inside,” Jay said, starting to pick him up by the shoulders. “And lock that door tight.”
Alex stepped up and took Jeff from Jay’s arms.
“Let me.”
He picked up Jeff as if he were nothing more than a child, easily raising him off the ground and moving him over to a small couch in the center of the room, a relic of a time ages before, back when people still lived here.
Melanie locked the door behind me as I walked over to him, but Jay got there first.
“We need to get these clothes off of him, get some blankets around him. He’s got hypothermia. And you,” He gestured toward me. “You had better do the same.”
I’d forgotten about my own cold body when I’d had a look at Jeff.
How had he found us?
Melanie, however, stayed on task.
“We need to get that chip out of his head before we do anything else. It could still be active.”
“I doubt it,” I said. “It looks like he did a number on himself trying to put the thing out.”
“That’s not good enough,” she said. “We don’t know where he’s been, or how he found us here. We can’t afford to wait.”
Jay moved to the kitchen and brought back a small container of alcohol and a knife.
“Alex, can you hold him down?” he asked.
His face was grave, but he nodded.
“Good. Hold onto his head; the less he moves, the faster the thing will be done. Got it?”
“Yup.” He knelt over Jeff’s shaking body and gently moved his head to one side, exposing the wound he’d already created on his own.
Jay poured some alcohol over the knife, then onto the bottom of a small rag from the kitchen. He held the fabric to his head, and Jeff hissed with pain, but his eyes stayed closed. Beads of sweat appeared on his brow.
None of it was sterile, but that didn’t seem to be a big issue. The lump was already oozing, already infected. And when Jay inserted the knife into his skin, the wound burst with blood and pus.
“Get me another rag,” he said urgently.
Melanie had one ready and handed it to him. He poured more alcohol over it and pressed it gently to the wound.
At this point, Jeff passed out in
earnest. He seemed to be totally unfeeling to the world around him, though his body still shook with cold.
Jay opened the incision further. Jeff had succeeded in disarming it, but the tissue around it had expanded and swelled, causing the infection.
“Okay,” he said. He dug deeper into the cut, feeling around, looking for the chip. Just a few moments of this, and he held out the knife with the tiny chip balanced on the tip of the blade. He placed into Melanie’s waiting hand, and she dropped it to the floor, then stood and stomped on it until it was nothing but minute pieces of metal ground into the kitchen tile.
“Mel, can you get me my bag?” he asked.
“Sure.”
She stood up and went into a back bedroom, then emerged with a small satchel once meant for carrying toiletries when traveling. Of course, nobody traveled much anymore. Something as common as this little bag had become nothing more than a memory.
“Alex, you can let him go,” Jay said.
Slowly, Alex released his hold on Jeff’s head, and everyone let out a collective sigh of relief.
Jay took out a regular sewing needle and thread, then carefully began stitching up his work.
“I don’t have meds,” he said apologetically. “Not enough for something like this. We’re just going to have to see how he does.”
“What can we do for him?” I asked.
Jay shrugged. “Try to keep the fever down. There’s plenty of cold water outside to help with that.”
My body gave a shudder, and a moment later, Alex had his hands on my shoulders.
“Jay, did you say there’s some extra blankets around here?”
“Yes,” he said. “In the apartment across the hall. We’ve collected all kinds of things in there from the other apartments. Bring in a blanket for him, too, won’t you? And some dry clothes.”
“You bet.” He held out one hand to me, and I took it. I noticed that, even though he’d been through the water just like me, his hand was already fiery warm.
“Why aren’t you cold, too?” I asked, though I thought I already knew the answer.
He smiled as he pulled me out the door and across the hall to the open door of the other apartment.
“You think it’s possible to retain this kind of heat in a normal-sized body? No.” He shook his head, and I saw a different emotion cross his features. The smile was gone in an instant. “It’s part of the deal,” he said, shrugging.