Among the Hidden

by Margaret Peterson Haddix

  “I’m not scared of you,” he taunted, and took a big bite. He swallowed with great difficulty and pretended to gag. “Water, water—quick!” He gulped down half his glass and glared at Luke. “Tastes like poison, all right.”

  Luke bit into his bread. It was dry and crumbly and tasteless, not like Mother’s at all. And everybody knew it. Even Dad and Mother had pained expressions on their faces as they chewed. Dad finally pushed his slice away.

  “That’s okay, Luke,” he said. “I’m not sure I’d want any son of mine getting too good at baking, anyhow. That’s what a man gets married for.”

  Matthew and Mark guffawed.

  “Getting married soon, Luke?” Mark teased.

  “Sure,” Luke said, struggling to sound as devil-may-care as Mark. “But don’t think I’d invite you to the wedding.”

  He felt a cold, hard lump in his stomach that wasn’t the bread. Of course he’d never get married. Or do anything. He’d never leave the house.

  Mark switched to teasing Matthew, who evidently did have a girlfriend. Luke watched the rest of his family laughing.

  “May I be excused?” Luke asked.

  Everyone turned to him in surprise. Usually he was the last one to make that request. Mother often begged Matthew and Mark, “Can’t you wait, and talk to Luke a little bit longer?”

  “Done already?” Mother asked.

  “I’m not very hungry,” Luke said.

  Mother gave him a worried look but nodded, anyway.

  Luke went to his room and climbed onto the stool by the back vents. In the dark, it was easier than ever to see into the houses of the new neighborhood. Their windows were lit up against the night. Some families were eating, like his. He could see one set of four people around a dining room table, and one set of three. Some families had their curtains or shades drawn, but sometimes the material was thin and he could still see shadows of the people inside.

  Only the Sports Family had all their windows totally blocked, covered by heavy blinds.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Luke watched the Sports Family house constantly after that. Before, he had just looked out the back vents in the early morning and late afternoon, when he knew people were about. But he’d seen the face at two o’clock. Maybe the other kid knew the rhythms of the neighborhood, too, and let his guard down only during times he considered safe.

  For three long days, Luke saw nothing.

  Then on the fourth day, he was rewarded: One panel of one of the blinds on an upstairs window flipped quickly up and down at eleven o’clock.

  The seventh day the blinds in a downstairs window were left up in the morning. Luke saw a light go on and off at 9:07, two full hours after the last of the Sports Family had left. A half hour later, the Sports Family mother drove in in her red car and stomped into the house. Two minutes later, the blind in the downstairs window went down. The mother left immediately.

  The thirteenth day was unseasonably warm, and Luke sweated in his attic. Some of the Sports Family’s windows were left open, though still covered by the blinds. The wind blew the blinds back a couple times. Luke saw lights on in some of the rooms some of the time, in other rooms as the day wore on. Once he even thought he saw a glow of a TV screen.

  He had no doubts anymore. Someone was hiding in the Sports Family house.

  The question was, what could he do about it?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Harvest came. Matthew and Mark stayed out of school to help Dad bring the crops in, the three of them working some days from dawn until midnight. Mother’s factory got busier, too, and she began working two or three hours of overtime every day. She brought up a store of food to Luke’s room so he wouldn’t get hungry while they were all away.

  “There!” she said cheerfully, lining up boxes of crackers and bags of fruit. “This way, you won’t even miss us.”

  Her eyes begged him not to complain.

  “Uh-huh,” he said, trying to sound game. “I’ll be fine.”

  He watched the Sports Family house only sporadically now. What other proof did he need? What good did it do him to know about the other third child? What did he expect—that the other kid would run out in his backyard and yell, “Hey, Luke, come out and play!”?

  He munched his solitary apples. He ate his crackers alone.

  And in spite of himself, a crazy idea grew in his mind, sprouting new details daily.

  What if he sneaked into the Sports Family house and met the other third child?

  He could do it. It was possible. Theoretically.

  He spent entire days plotting his route. He’d be hidden by bushes and the barn through much of his yard. It was only about six feet from there to the nearest tree in the Sports Family’s backyard. He could crawl on his stomach. Then he’d be hidden by the fence the Sports Family shared with the Birdbrain Family—all those birdhouses might actually help. After that, it was only three steps to the Sports Family house. They had a sliding-glass door at the back, and on warm days they’d been leaving it open, with just a screen. He could go in there.

  Would he dare?

  Of course he wouldn’t, but still, still—

  The first time he looked out the vents and saw maple leaves shot through with shades of red and yellow, he panicked. He needed those leaves to hide him on his way to the Sports Family house. If he waited too long, the leaves would be gone.

  He began waking up every morning in a cold sweat, thinking, Maybe today. Do I dare?

  Just thinking about it made his stomach feel funny.

  It rained three days in a row in early October, and he was almost relieved because that meant he couldn’t go on those days, didn’t even have to think about going. He couldn’t risk leaving footprints in the mud. And Dad and Matthew and Mark were in the way, hanging around the house and the barn, grumbling because they couldn’t get into the fields.

  Finally the rain stopped and the fields dried up and Dad and Matthew and Mark went back to their combine and tractors, acres away from the house.

  The backyard and the Sports Family’s backyard were dry, too.

  And it was warm again. The Sports Family left their sliding-glass door open.

  The rain hadn’t knocked all the leaves off the backyard trees, but the next rain probably would.

  On the third morning after the rain, Luke’s stomach churned as he sat on his perch watching the neighborhood empty out. He knew without question that today was the day he’d have to go, if he ever intended to. He couldn’t wait until spring. He wouldn’t be able to stand it.

  He watched twenty-eight people leave in eight cars and one school bus. Hands trembling, he made scratches on the wall again and recounted, once, twice, three times. Twenty-eight. Yes. Twenty-eight. Yes. Twenty-eight. The magic number.

  He could hear the blood pounding in his ears. He moved in a daze. Off his perch. Down the stairs. Into the kitchen. And then—out the back door.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  He had forgotten what fresh air felt like, filling his nostrils and lungs. It felt good. With his back pressed against the house, he stood still for a moment, just breathing. All the months he’d spent inside suddenly seemed like a dream. He’d been like some confused animal hibernating during nice weather. The last real thing that had happened to him was being called inside when the woods were coming down. Real life was outdoors.

  But so was danger. And the longer he stayed out, the greater the danger.

  He forced himself down into a crouch and half-crawled, half-ran alongside the house and the hedges and the barn. At the back edge of the barn he hesitated, staring into the seemingly endless gulf between the barn and the trees at the boundary between his backyard and the Sports Family’s.

  Everybody’s gone, he told himself. There’s not a soul around to see you.

  Still, he waited, staring at the blades of grass just beyond his feet. He’d been taught all his life to fear open spaces like the one in front of him. It faced dozens of windows. He’d never stepped foot in a
ny place that public, even if it was deserted.

  Still hidden by the barn, he made himself inch his foot forward. Then he drew it back.

  He turned around and looked at his family’s house, so safe and secure. His sanctuary. He heard his mother’s voice in his head: Luke! Inside. Now. It seemed so real, he remembered something he’d read in one of the old books in the attic about telepathy—supposedly if people really loved you, they could call out to you from miles away if you were in danger.

  He should go back. He’d be safe there.

  He took a deep breath, looking forward toward the Sports Family’s house, then back again toward his own. He thought about returning home—trudging up the worn stairs, going back to his familiar room and the walls he stared at every day. Suddenly he hated his house. It wasn’t a sanctuary. It was a prison.

  Before he had time to think again, he pushed himself off into a sprint, recklessly streaking across the grass. He didn’t even stop to hide at any trees. He ran right to the Sports Family’s door and tugged at the screen.

  It was locked.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  In all his plottings, Luke had never thought of the screen door being locked. Though he knew his own parents locked up at night—when they didn’t forget—the doors at his house had always been open for him. And he’d never been near anyone else’s door.

  “Idiot,” he muttered to himself.

  He tugged harder on the door, but he couldn’t concentrate enough to make his hands work together. Each second that passed made the hair on the back of his neck stand up more. He’d never been so exposed in his entire life.

  Hurry, hurry, hurry. Get out of sight . . . .

  The door didn’t budge. He’d have to turn around. Now.

  That was what his brain said. What his hand did was plunge through the screen. He pulled the wire away from the frame and reached through. The screen scraped the back of his hand and his arm, but he didn’t stop. He fiddled with the lock inside until he heard it click.

  He silently slid the screen door back and stepped past the hanging blinds into the Sports Family’s house.

  Even with the blinds blocking every window, the room he entered was airy and bright. From the freshly painted walls to the sparkling glass tables to the polished wood floor, everything looked new. Luke stared. Almost all the furniture in his own house had been around as long as he could remember, and whatever patterns and designs it originally carried had long ago been worn away. At his house, even the once-orangish couch and the once-greenish chairs were now all a matching sort of brownish gray. This room was different. It reminded him of a word he’d never heard, only read: “pristine.” Nobody had ever stepped on these white rugs with manure-covered boots. Nobody had ever sat on those pale blue couches with corn-dust-covered jeans.

  Luke might have stood by the door forever, in awe, but someone coughed in another room. Then he heard a strange be-be-be-beep. He tiptoed forward. Better to discover than to be discovered.

  He went down a long hallway. The beeps had turned into a drawn-out “buzzzzz,” coming from a room at the end.

  Holding his breath, Luke stopped outside the door to that room and gathered the nerve to peek in. His heart pounded. There was still time to escape unseen, to go back to his house and attic and normal, safe life. But he’d always wonder—

  Luke leaned forward slowly, moving a fraction of an inch at a time, until he could just barely see around the door.

  Inside the room was a chair and a desk and a big apparatus that Luke vaguely recognized as a computer. And at the computer, typing away furiously, sat a girl.

  Luke blinked, thrown off. Somehow he’d never thought about the Sports Family’s third child being a girl. She was mostly facing away from Luke, and she wore jeans and a gray sweatshirt not much different from what the Sports Family brothers always wore. Her dark hair was almost as short as Luke’s. But there was something about the curve of her cheek, the tilt of her head, the way her sweatshirt clung or didn’t cling to her body—all of that made Luke certain she wasn’t like him.

  He blushed. Then he gulped.

  The girl turned her head.

  “I—” Luke croaked.

  Before he had a chance to think of another word, the girl was across the room and had knocked him down. Then she pinned him to the floor, his arms twisted behind his back, his face buried in the carpet. Luke struggled to turn his head to breathe.

  “So,” the girl hissed in his ear. “You think you can sneak up on a poor, innocent, unsuspecting girl, who’s home all alone? Guess nobody told you about our alarm system. A call went out to our security guards the minute you stepped on our property. They’ll be here any second.”

  Luke panicked. So this was how he’d die. He had to explain. He had to escape.

  “No,” he said. “They can’t come. I—”

  “Oh, yeah?” the girl said. “Who are you to stop them?”

  Luke raised his head as much as he could. He said the first words that came into his mind.

  “Population Police.”

  The girl let go.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Luke sat up, checking his arms to make sure she hadn’t broken anything.

  “You’re lying,” the girl said.

  But she made no effort to tackle him again. She crouched, looking puzzled for a few moments. Then she grinned.

  “I got it! You’re another one. Great code word. I’ll have to think about using that for the rally.”

  Now it was Luke’s turn to squint in confusion.

  The girl giggled.

  “I mean, you’re another shadow child. Right?”

  “Shadow—?” Luke wondered why his brain seemed to be slowing down. Was it just because she seemed several miles ahead of him?

  “That’s not the term you use?” she asked. “I thought ‘shadow child’ was universal. But, you know, an illegal, someone whose parents broke Population Law 3903. A third.”

  “I—” Luke couldn’t bring himself to confess. He’d broken so many taboos today, leaving the house, standing in the open yard, talking to a stranger. Why did one more violation matter?

  “You can say it,” the girl coaxed. “ ‘I’m a third child.’ Why should there be anything wrong with that?”

  Luke was spared having to answer her, because she suddenly sprang to her feet, exclaiming, “Oh, no! The alarm!”

  She raced down the hall and around the corner. Luke followed to find her jerking open a closet door, then punching buttons on a panel of colored lights.

  “Too late. Drat!”

  She ran to a phone, Luke following breathlessly. She dialed. Luke watched in amazement. He’d never talked on a phone. His parents had told him the Government could trace calls, could tell if a voice on a phone was from a person who was allowed to exist or not.

  “Dad—” She made a face. “I know, I know. Call the security company and get them to cancel the alarm, okay?” Pause. “And might I remind you that the penalty for harboring a shadow child is five million dollars or execution, depending on the mood of the judge?”

  She rolled her eyes at Luke while she listened to what seemed to be a long answer.

  “Oh, you know. These things happen.” Another pause. “Yeah, yeah. Love you, too. Thanks, Dad.”

  She hung up. Luke wondered if he should run back to his house immediately, before the Population Police really did show up.

  “They can find you now,” Luke said. “Just from the phone—”

  The girl laughed.

  “They say. But everybody knows the Government’s not that competent.”

  Luke started inching toward the back door, just in case.

  “But there really was an alarm?” he asked. “And you have security guards?”

  “Sure. Doesn’t everyone?” the girl took another look at Luke. “Oh. Maybe not.”

  She winced apologetically as soon as she’d said that. Luke decided to ignore the insult.

  “Do the security guards know you�
�re here?” he asked.

  “Of course not,” the girl said. “If they came, I’d have to hide. Personally, I think my family just has the alarm system to make sure I stay in the house. They don’t know I can disable it. But”—she gave him an evil grin—“I set it off sometimes just for fun.”

  “That’s fun?” Luke asked. He’d thought another third child would understand him, be just like him. This girl sure wasn’t. “Aren’t you scared the guards might find you?”

  “Not really.” The girl shrugged. “And see, doing it on purpose every now and then helped us today—my dad didn’t really even ask why the system needed to be stopped. He just thought it was me making trouble again.”

  In a twisted way, she kind of made sense. But trying to figure everything out made Luke’s head hurt. He glanced toward the door. If he could just get safely home, he’d never complain about being bored again. Here, he felt as baffled as Alice in Wonderland from one of the old books in the attic. Or—he remembered something he’d read in a nature book—maybe he was like the prey of a snake that hypnotized its victims before it ate them. He didn’t think the girl would hurt him, but she might keep him confused and fascinated until the Population Police or the security guards or someone else arrived.

  The girl saw where he was looking.

  “Am I scaring you?” she asked. “Shadow kids can be so jumpy. You’re safe, you know. How about if we start over? Would you care for a seat, uh—what’s your name, anyway?”

  Luke told her.

  “Nice to meet you,” the girl said, shaking his hand in a way that made him feel like she was kind of making fun of him. Then she led him to sit down on a couch in the room he’d first entered. She perched beside him. “I’m Jen. Really, it’s Jennifer Rose Talbot. But do I look like a Jennifer?”

  She shook her head and spread out her arms as if Luke should understand something from her rumpled sweatshirt and messy hair.

  Luke frowned.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know any Jennifers. Just Matthew and Mark and Mother and Dad.” He knew his parents’ real names were Edna and Harlan, but he wondered if he shouldn’t keep that secret. Just in case. Probably he shouldn’t have even mentioned Matthew and Mark, but he was surprised into it, thinking suddenly about how there was a world full of people outside his house, with a world full of different names he’d never heard of.