by Tom Isbell
Heads snap in Hope’s direction.
“Are you kidding?” Sunshine whispers. “Those could be our ticket outta here.”
“No. Those could be our downfall,” she says grimly.
She doesn’t bother to explain, but both Book and Cat nod their heads in support.
“Throw them in the water,” Hope calls out again, “and then we’ll talk.”
“Who do you think you are?” the Man in Orange growls. “Some girl telling us what to do?”
“We’re the people you’ve been hunting the last two decades. And as long as you have weapons, you’re not getting any food.”
The Hunters don’t bother to hide their anger. Still, what choice do they have? They’re hungry, shivering, gaunt from cold and lack of sleep. One by one they stumble to the icy edge and slide their rifles into the lake. The water swallows the weapons with a thick kerplunk.
“All of them!” Hope calls out.
Several of the Hunters remove hidden pistols from shoulder straps and drop them in the water as well.
Satisfied, Hope turns to Sarah. “Get every single person. And someone find a ladder.”
When she runs off, Hope makes her way out onto the ice. “So what do you wanna talk about?” she asks.
Even from where she stands, Hope can see the Man in Orange’s jaw working back and forth in humiliation.
“You know what,” he says. “Let us off of here and we’ll return to our homes and won’t bother you again.”
“Why should we trust you? Aren’t you the same guys who burned down a forest to get to us?”
“Do you want to negotiate or not?”
Hope cocks her head as if considering the offer. “Dump your vehicles and we’ll consider it.”
His eyes go wide. “Listen, we already threw away our weapons. We’re unarmed. We don’t have anything—”
“Roll the vehicles into the lake.”
The Man in Orange gestures to the ATVs. “Do you know how rare these things are these days? How valuable?”
“Dump ’em, or this conversation’s over.”
The silence lengthens to something long and unbearable. Then the lead Hunter nods to his comrades.
One after another, the Hunters shift their four-wheelers to neutral and wheel them over the edge of the ice. They plunge beneath the surface of the lake. The icy water roils as it swallows them.
“Satisfied?” the Man in Orange asks bitterly, when all the vehicles are gone. Fifty-some stranded Hunters stand in the middle of an ice floe. They look naked without weapons and armor-plated ATVs.
Hope motions for the ladder. It’s slid over the chasm of icy water, and the Man in Orange is the first to crawl across on hands and knees. When he reaches the other side, Less Thans tie his wrists with a stretch of rope.
“I thought you said we were free to return to our homes,” the Hunter demands.
“No, that’s what you said. I think you need to be our prisoners—at least until we’re out of the territory.”
“Then the deal’s off.”
“Fine.” Hope turns to the Less Thans. “Remove the ladder. Leave the others out there.”
The LTs start pulling it back.
“Wait!” the Man in Orange shouts. He hesitates. “We’ll do it your way. But you can trust us.”
Hope doesn’t even bother to respond.
One by one, the Hunters crawl across the ladder. As each one reaches the Sisters and Less Thans, he’s tied up and hobbled like a horse so he can’t attack or run away. Then they’re all searched a final time. There are still a couple of concealed knives, a small pistol … and a slip of paper, found in the Man in Orange’s front pocket.
On it are the same numbers from before.
4539221103914
“What is this?” Hope asks the Man in Orange.
He sneers, the lopsided smile tugging at his burn. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Hope motions for them to be taken away.
As the Man in Orange is about to walk by, Hope puts a hand on his forearm, whips him around, then slaps him as hard as she can. Her icy fingers dig into his scar-pocked face.
“What was that for?” the Man in Orange growls.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she says, and walks off.
21.
WE LOCKED THE HUNTERS in a cabin and set up guards. We put the Man in Orange in a separate cabin, far away from the others. The less contact he had with his friends, the better. The day after their surrender, Cat and I entered his cell.
“What’s this mean?” Cat asked, sliding the piece of paper across the table. A couple of Less Thans stood guard outside the door.
“We know it’s a code,” I went on. “We just don’t know what it says.”
The Man in Orange’s eyes bored into the table. His burn was pink and shiny and glistened with secretions. He hadn’t shaved in days.
“If you tell us,” I said, “we’ll help you out.”
“Yeah, right,” he scoffed.
“In case you haven’t noticed, you’re our prisoners here.”
“Maybe now,” he said with a smirk. “Not for long.”
His words sent a shudder down my back. I tried to hide it.
“So are you going to tell us or not?” Cat asked.
“You gonna release us?”
“No.”
“Then I’m not gonna tell you.”
He sat opposite us, his ankles and wrists tethered together with rope. Even though he was the prisoner, something about his tone made it feel like he was the one in charge.
“What do you aim to do with us?” he asked. He tilted back his chair on its rear legs like he owned the place.
“What do you mean?” Cat said.
“You captured us, but we all know you can’t keep us here forever. I’m guessing you’ll want to leave come spring. So it’s a pretty simple question: what’re you planning on doing with us?”
Cat and I didn’t answer.
“You gonna turn us over to the government? ’Cause in case you hadn’t noticed, Chancellor Maddox is a friend of ours.”
I could feel my face burning hot. I had no good response, and he and I both knew it.
“Anything else you want to know?” he mocked. “Or is that about it?”
“You never answered my question—”
“And I don’t intend to. Not until you release us.”
My chair squealed as I pushed it back. Maybe someone else would have better luck talking to him. I certainly wasn’t getting anywhere.
My hand was shaking as I placed it on the doorknob, but before I opened it, his voice called out behind me.
“You think ’cause you got us locked up you’ve won? You think Chancellor Maddox has forgotten about you? ’Cause in case you didn’t know, it was the government that brokered the deal with us. They not only gave us permission to hunt you down, it was their idea. No different from deer season back in the day, they told us. Just thinning the herd.”
His words turned me around.
“But w-we’re people,” I stammered.
“You’re Less Thans. There’s a difference.”
My fists kneaded my face, as though trying to massage away his words.
He leaned forward. “And I’ll tell you something else, Less Thans. Your little summer camp here ain’t as secret as you think.”
My heart thunked to a stop.
“What’re you saying?” Cat asked.
“Once we found you all, you think we kept that information to ourselves? By now, our riders have reached Chancellor Maddox and told her all about this tree house of yours. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to know exactly where you are, especially before the Conclave begins.”
Dread settled in my stomach. Cat and I shared a look.
“Why should anyone care about us?” I asked. “We just want to get to the next territory and start a new life.”
He laughed long and hard. “It doesn’t matter what you want. You really think Chancellor Maddox will
let you leave now that you know about the Final Solution?”
His words were a slap to the face.
“What’s the matter?” the Man in Orange sneered. “Not so cocky all of a sudden?”
I found enough voice to ask, “What’s the Conclave?” I’d heard the word twice before: once as Goodman Nellitch gripped my ankles on the cliff face, before he fell to his death. The second time was when Chancellor Maddox threatened me at Camp Liberty. In both cases, I’d had no idea what they were talking about.
The Man in Orange chuckled. “You really don’t know shit from Shinola, do you, boy?”
He continued to laugh, and when it was obvious he wasn’t going to answer me, I stumbled outside, sweat pouring from my body. Cat was right behind me. The Man in Orange’s laughter seeped through the door, the walls, the ceiling—the haunting sound soaring to the heavens.
But of course it wasn’t just his laughter that worried me, it was our new reality. We had hoped to stay here at Dodge’s until the spring thaw—just like we’d hoped to stay at Libertyville before that. But if the chancellor was bringing her Brown Shirts after us, we had little choice but to pack up and leave. Once more it would be a race to the next territory, and this time with an entire army on our tail.
PART TWO
ALLIES
He who conquers others is strong; he who conquers himself is mighty.
—LAO TZU
22.
TWO DAYS LATER WE left Dodge’s Log Lodges. There were approximately 175 of us: 125 Less Thans and Sisters, and another 50 or so Hunters.
“If you’re thinking of leaving the Western Federation Territory, you’ll never get out alive,” the Man in Orange said as we shackled him and the other prisoners together.
“We’ll see,” I said, trying to sound confident. But it was hard to disagree with him.
We retraced our steps from a lifetime ago, back when we’d rescued the Sisters from the death march. Around the lake, through the woods, down one gravel road after another. For obvious reasons, we avoided Camp Freedom. The town of Bedford, too. Crazies lived there. And we wanted nothing to do with them.
“Hey!” one of the Hunters shouted at dinner one night. He was a round man with a square head and triangle ears. Like the others, he reeked from not bathing. “You expect us to eat this swill?”
“It’s the same swill we eat,” Sunshine said. The rest of us had pretty much learned to tune the Hunters out.
“What is it?”
“Rabbit stew—what do you think it is?”
“It looks like shit to me. Tastes like it, too.”
“It’s better than what you had on the ice,” Sunshine said. “Which was nothing.”
“Sounds like something a Less Than would say. A Less Than who’s used to eating shit.” Triangle Ears slung his stew across the fire, and it landed with a splat on the LT’s face.
Sunshine jumped to his feet, ready to fight, and Cat and Red had to restrain him.
“Don’t,” Cat said. “It’s what he wants.”
“He can’t get away with that! It’s not right!”
“Let it go.”
Sunshine’s eyes darted back and forth between Triangle Ears and Cat. When Cat finally got him to sit back down, the Man in Orange spoke up.
“Hey, Limp,” he called out. “You really think you can make it all the way to the next territory?”
“We did it once,” I said.
“Yeah, but I bet you didn’t have wolves trailing you the whole time.”
He picked up on my surprise.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t hear the howls this morning,” he asked. “They’re close. Real close. I’d say you all are sitting ducks—unless you release us and let us help you fight ’em.”
“Not likely,” I said.
“Suit yourself.”
I tried to concentrate on eating, but all I could think about was wolves. Had I really missed hearing them, or was he just making it up?
“What’s your deal, anyway?” he asked.
“What’re you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Limp. You and the chick with the Xs on her face. I’m guessing you want her, but she wants nothing to do with you. Am I right?”
He laughed, and the food got lodged in my throat. I felt heat prickling the back of my neck.
“I got news for you, sonny boy. You ain’t gonna get her. She’s got eyes for ol’ One Arm over there. In fact, I think I might’ve seen ’em kissing behind the shed at your little hideout.”
Cat reached out a hand, but there was no stopping me. I threw down my food and went racing across the circle, lunging on top of the Man in Orange and hitting him as hard as I could. He was tied up, so I had no problem getting the better of him—one punch after another, slamming my fists into his face until my knuckles bled.
But Cat was right; it was exactly what the Man in Orange wanted.
Once I started hitting him, the other Hunters made a break for it. Some of them had managed to loosen their knots, and there was suddenly chaos—Hunters running in fifty different directions, and LTs and Sisters fumbling for weapons and racing after them.
The snow allowed us to track them down, but even then, the Hunters were big and strong and didn’t go down without a fight. There were bruises and bloody noses on both sides, and only the threat of knives and arrows convinced the Hunters to finally give up. It took us a full hour to corral them all.
The Man in Orange’s face was a bleeding mess, but he didn’t seem to care. Just the opposite, in fact. His smile, showing bloodstained teeth, mocked me as though the Hunters were the ones who’d just won this latest skirmish.
“Let it go,” I heard Cat say, but whether he was talking about the Man in Orange or him and Hope I didn’t know.
I shook off his grip and hurried away, wondering if the day would ever come when the Hunters would be punished for what they’d done to us. Wondering also if what he’d said was true: Was I really wasting my time with Hope? If so, why did I even bother?
23.
ONCE AGAIN, HOPE SLEEPS hardly at all. It’s not just what the Hunter said but other things, too. Like the memory of the Heartland.
They’d made it there once before, and not a day goes by when Hope doesn’t remember the life they glimpsed that night. Families having picnics. Children playing tag. Musicians in gazebos. More heaven-like than any heaven she could imagine.
They’d done the right thing. Crawling under the fence and coming back for the others. Trying to save the Less Thans and Sisters. Still, Hope longs for the day when she can have even a fraction of that happiness … with someone by her side.
She runs her hands through her hair and then lets them linger on her face. Who is she kidding? There’s no chance of that. Not with these two grotesque scars.
Morning comes and Cat returns from watch. “There’s one out there,” he says.
Heads turn. They know exactly what he’s talking about.
“Close?” Flush asks.
“Close enough.”
“Could just be a loner,” Flush says hopefully. “Not from the Libertyville pack, just one on its own.”
“Could be.”
But then again, probably not, Hope thinks.
They break camp and set out. They’re getting good at these hasty departures. The snow comes down hard, falling throughout the day. When they left Dodge’s Log Lodges, it was up to their ankles. Now it’s nearly to their knees.
Book takes point, the first to burrow through the thick drifts. Cat offers to take his place, but Book refuses. It’s like he’s driven to get out of here. Hope wonders if he’s trying to get away from Dodge’s … or her.
The blizzard still rages when they stop for the night, and their clothes are plastered in white. They look like mythological creatures.
There’s no way they can go on a hunt, and all they have left is a dwindling supply of onions and potatoes. After tying the Hunters to a grove of trees, the Sisters and Less Thans hu
ddle together against the side of a cut bank, trying to ignore their gnawing hunger. Book is as far away from Hope as possible. When Hope gives him a glance, he looks in the other direction.
“You’re not going to make it,” the Man in Orange calls out gleefully, just as everyone’s about to fall asleep. “You should’ve let us kill you when we had a chance.” He leans his head back and lets out a mocking laugh.
Hope grits her teeth but says nothing. She doesn’t have the energy or desire.
An hour or so later, when most everyone’s asleep, Hope pushes herself to her feet and walks the length of the cut bank. She wends her way between sleeping bodies, careful not to nudge anyone awake.
She can see his outline against the fire, the flames’ flickering lights tousling his brownish-black hair. He’s keeping watch, his eyes staring intently at the black beyond their camp. With no greeting whatsoever, she plops herself down beside him.
“Why’d you do it?” she asks.
Book is startled to see her. “Do what?”
“Come back from the other side?”
Book’s eyebrows arch in surprise. “That was last summer. You’re asking about that now?”
“We were there—we reached the Heartland—and then you decided we needed to come back to save the others.”
“That’s right. Do you regret it?”
“I’m not saying that.”
“Then …?”
“I just want to know what you were thinking.”
He lets out a long breath. “I saw those families and how happy they were, and I figured that’d be us pretty soon. It just didn’t seem fair that that’s the life we were going to be leading while we had friends stuck back in camp. There wasn’t really any choice in the matter.”
“Sure there was a choice. You didn’t hear the rest of us suggesting we cross back over.”
“Maybe not then, but once reality set in, your conscience would’ve gotten the better of you. I know you.”
“You do, do you?”
“A little bit, yeah,” he says. “It was the right thing to do and you know it.”
The light from the fire dances on Book’s cheeks. Hope turns away.