The Hunted

by Matt De La Peña

  —

  Before Shy knew it, the sun began to fall and the temperature dropped. He had to put his shirt back on.

  Shoeshine finally stopped at the edge of an overgrown Little League field and pointed his walking stick across a large valley. “You all see that arrowhead in the mountain?”

  The sun was setting, but there was still enough light for Shy to make out a faded white shape in the otherwise brown mountainside.

  “Some Native Americans believed a giant flaming arrow struck the mountain in ancient times,” Shoeshine went on. “Others believed the arrow pointed to a healing hot spring in the valley.” He paused for a few seconds. “But the truth is, the world is never quite as magical as we want to believe. The arrow is nothing more than a natural formation of quartz.”

  Shy stared at the mountainside.

  The white part really was shaped like an arrowhead.

  “And how do you know all this?” Carmen’s tone told Shy she wasn’t going to forgive Shoeshine anytime soon.

  “Because it’s where we’re going,” Shoeshine answered.

  During their never-ending walk, Shy started wondering if Shoeshine had done the right thing. Marcus had lost a whole lot of blood. There was no way he was going to survive without a hospital. It would’ve been even worse to let him suffer. Hard as it was to see, what else could they have done?

  Shoeshine switched the duffel to his other shoulder and started walking down a narrow paved street, toward the distant arrowhead.

  “It won’t leave my head,” Carmen said, turning to Shy. And then she did something that caught Shy completely off guard. She moved forward and hugged him tightly.

  He reached his hands around her back awkwardly. Trying to soothe her. But he didn’t know how to soothe anyone. “Shoe would never hurt Marcus if he didn’t have to,” he said. “Remember how he draped his own body over Marcus’s, back where we found the van?”

  Carmen didn’t say anything.

  Shy cleared his throat. “Me and you both know, Carm…He was losing mad blood. You saw it.”

  Carmen sniffled. “But how could he just…?”

  Shy held her in silence, staring at the arrowhead in the distance. Carmen was already devastated about Marcus. How would he ever be able to tell her about back home? It wasn’t possible.

  Carmen pulled away to wipe her face. She looked up at Shy and took a deep breath, then set off after Shoeshine.

  Shy did, too.

  —

  It was dark by the time they came upon a giant statue of a Native American pointing down a narrow dirt path. The moon gave just enough light for Shy to make out the face of the statue as he walked by.

  A few minutes later, they encountered a tall chain-link gate with a large sign tacked onto it.

  “What’s it say?” Carmen asked.

  Shy went right up to the sign and read the words out loud. “ ‘Caution. This property is condemned. Do not enter.’ ”

  “You made us walk miles and miles to get here?” Carmen barked at Shoeshine.

  Instead of answering, the man put his thumb and middle finger between his lips and whistled loudly. A few coyotes yipped in the nearby mountainside.

  Shy peered through the gate. He could see the outline of a large, old building. And an old water fountain. Then he spotted two men in cowboy hats emerging from behind the fountain, both holding shotguns.

  “Uh, Shoe?” Shy said, backing up a few steps. “You sure we didn’t make a wrong turn somewhere?”

  “Nightwatch?” one of the cowboys called out. “Nightwatch, is that really you?”

  “It’s me all right, Dale,” Shoeshine called back.

  To Shy’s surprise, the two men set down their guns and hurried toward the gate. The taller, overweight one pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked the dead bolt, and the other man began unraveling the thick chain, opening the gate.

  Shy and Carmen looked at each other.

  “Wait, you know these guys?” Carmen asked Shoeshine.

  Both men wrapped Shoeshine in a tight bear hug, but he managed to turn his head toward Shy and Carmen. “I used to work here,” he said.

  Day 49

  40

  A Distorted Voice from the Past

  Shy awoke early the next morning to the sound of someone pounding on the door. It took him a few seconds to get his bearings.

  The two men with shotguns had led him, Carmen and Shoeshine through the gate and across the grounds to a small building positioned directly behind the massive crumbling structure they’d seen from the path. The men took them inside and got them each a big glass of water and then led Shy and Carmen to an open bedroom. All Shy remembered after that was making a beeline for the single bed across the room from the one Carmen chose.

  He’d been so exhausted from walking in the hot desert sun all day, he must have passed out before his head even hit the pillow.

  More pounding on the door.

  Shy opened his eyes and saw the comb-over man’s letter lying on his chest. Apparently he hadn’t fallen asleep right away. He folded the beat-up pages and stuck them back into their beat-up envelope, and that’s when he discovered something else.

  Carmen was under the covers next to him.

  The other bed had clearly been slept in, so she must have crossed to his side of the room at some point during the night. They were both fully dressed, but still. They were lying in a single bed together. Her thick, wavy hair spread out around her beautiful, peaceful-looking face. Which was only inches from his face. He could lean over and kiss her on the forehead if he wanted, like two married people waking up for work.

  After everything that had happened with Marcus the day before, it was the most ridiculous possible time to be getting butterflies over a female. But that’s exactly what was happening. They were flapping their wings all through Shy’s stupid stomach, even when he ordered himself to calm the hell down.

  The knocking woke up Carmen now, too. She stretched her arms and slowly opened her eyes, and when she realized she was in bed with Shy she quickly slipped out from under the covers and crossed to the other side of the room, where she pretended to be preoccupied with one of her pillowcases. “Who is that?” she said without looking up.

  Shy shrugged and sat up, wondering what it meant that Carmen had climbed in bed with him. He remembered what Marcus had told him in the gutter. That he and Carmen should be together. But the whole idea of that got messed up because he started thinking about Marcus again. Who he’d never see again. He still couldn’t believe it.

  Shy pushed these thoughts out of his head and shouted: “Just come in already!”

  The door slowly creaked open and a harried-looking older woman with a frizzy gray ponytail stuck her head inside. “Is one of you named Shy?”

  Shy looked at Carmen.

  Last night he’d been under the impression that the two cowboys were the only ones who lived here.

  “That’s you, right?” the woman said, pointing at Shy. “I mean, I assumed ‘Shy’ was a guy’s name—though technically it’s not really a name at all, is it? It’s an adjective. But whatever.”

  “I’m Shy,” he told her.

  The woman was wearing Chicago Bears pajamas and her eye makeup was a little messed up. “I’m Esther,” she said, stepping the rest of the way inside the room. She was short and round, like a circle. “I read people’s palms. I know, I know, you’re probably thinking I’m some sort of witch, or one of those people who looks into crystal balls, but it’s not like that. My aunt taught me how to read palms when I was six, and I’ve been doing it ever since. Mario says I have a gift. Anyway, you need to come with me, Shy.” She turned to Carmen, adding: “You should come, too. I hate when women get left out. I guess you could say I’m technically a feminist, though I don’t go around burning my bras like some people.”

  Shy shot Carmen another look. She shrugged and tossed aside her pillow and followed the woman out of the room.

  Shy had no idea where they we
re or what to expect, but maybe there was an important reason this woman had been sent for him. He slipped the comb-over man’s letter back inside his backpack and followed Carmen and this strange woman, Esther, and when he passed through the doorway he felt a sudden and overwhelming sadness that Marcus was no longer with them.

  —

  Turned out the people who lived here were “mentally challenged” adults. At least, that was the way Esther phrased it as she led them through the building.

  The day before the earthquakes, there had been thirteen residents, three counselors and the guy who ran the place, Mario. But as soon as they found out how bad the damage around the rest of the state was, the counselors all left in a rush to try and get back to their families. Most of the residents took off, too, leaving only five people: Esther, the two cowboys, an older resident named Larry, who never spoke, and Mario. The place was called Bright House, according to Esther, and they operated out of this ten-room building constructed on the property of an old, abandoned resort, which the city had been trying to evict them from.

  Esther stopped in front of a closed door at the end of the hall. “This is the technology room I was telling you about. Dale’s good at computers. He thinks he’s gonna work for NASA someday, and who am I to squash a person’s dreams? Mario has two generators, and he lets Dale use one for taping a radio show he likes.”

  She pushed open the door.

  The two cowboys sat in front of a portable table that held some elaborate-looking, old-school radio equipment with rabbit-ear antennae. The taller, heavier guy looked up and said: “Your name’s Shy, right?”

  Shy nodded.

  “I thought that’s what Nightwatch said last night. Did you know two weeks ago, someone went on the radio looking for you?”

  Shy frowned. His first thought was his mom and sis. But that was impossible. Then he thought of his dad.

  “Dude, come in,” the heavier cowboy said. “You gotta hear this.”

  “I’ll leave you to it then.” Esther started to leave but then stuck her head back in the room and said: “Oh, do either of you guys want a palm reading later?”

  She seemed so earnest Shy felt bad for her. He doubted they got too many visitors way out here in the middle of nowhere, even before the earthquakes.

  Carmen glanced at Shy, then gave Esther a smile. “I’d love a palm reading,” she said.

  “Really?” Esther grew even more excited. “Great. I’ll find you later. And I’ll tell you everything I see.” She waved at Shy and Carmen and left the room, pulling the door closed behind her.

  Shy and Carmen sat at the table and the heavier of the two guys said: “I’m Dale. And my friend here is Tommy.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Tommy said, pinching the front rim of his cowboy hat. He was younger and scruffier than Dale, and he had yet to make eye contact.

  They all shook hands.

  Shy had never been around mentally challenged adults before, and he didn’t know how to act. They had seemed mostly normal to him last night. And now, too. If anything they just seemed nicer than most people you meet. In a childlike way.

  “Where’s Shoeshine?” Carmen asked.

  “Who?” Dale said.

  “Nightwatch,” Shy said, remembering the name the cowboys had been calling him last night.

  “Oh. Still sleeping,” Tommy said, pointing up at the ceiling. “His room’s above us.”

  This surprised Shy. Shoeshine had never slept in later than him, even back on the sailboat. He always rose before dawn. Always. Shy looked at the ceiling, too, suddenly nervous.

  Dale pointed at his radio, drawing Shy back into the conversation. “The minute I heard Nightwatch say your name, I knew it sounded familiar. So last night, after you guys went to sleep, me and Tommy came in here and listened to some old recordings of DJ Dan’s radio show—do you guys know about DJ Dan?”

  Shy glanced at Carmen and nodded.

  He was reminded of Marcus again. The way he always had a radio.

  “Anyway, on this one show a couple weeks ago, some guy from the Suzuki Gang came on and said he was looking for a kid named Shy, and I thought: How many Shys could there be in the world? It’s a weird name, no offense.”

  “None taken,” Shy said, remembering his old man saying he’d gone on the radio looking for Shy. At the time, he hadn’t believed it.

  Tommy pointed at the radio. “Just let ’em hear it already.”

  “I know, Tommy,” Dale said. “I needed to catch him up first, okay? Jeez.” He turned back to Shy, shaking his head. “Anyway, you wanna hear it?”

  “Uh, yeah,” Shy said, suddenly overcome by nerves. Because what if it wasn’t his dad? What if it was some kind of warning from LasoTech? Or Jim Miller himself?

  But the second the recording began, those fears faded away.

  It was definitely his old man.

  MAN: Doesn’t matter if you’re sick or healthy, man or woman, grown person or child…you need to stay where you are. No more traveling from zone to zone. For any reason. Or there will be consequences. Understand? [Coughing.] And I’m also looking for a kid—

  DJ DAN: What consequences?

  MAN: Hang on. [Rustling.] The kid’s name is Shy Espinoza. Seventeen, with short brown hair and brown skin. Sort of tall and thin. Anyone can give me information on this boy’s whereabouts, there’ll be a reward. Just get in touch with DJ Dan here, and I’ll keep checking back.

  DJ DAN: What are the consequences for moving from zone to zone? And who will issue these consequences?

  MAN: Us, man. We’re out patrolling….

  Dale stopped the recording and looked at Shy, excited. “That’s you, right?”

  Shy nodded.

  A different kind of butterfly feeling now flooded his stomach. His dad really had gone on the radio looking for him. He’d even offered a reward. Shy didn’t know how to feel about this. Maybe he was wrong to reject his dad back at the Sony lots.

  Carmen touched Shy’s arm and gave him a comforting look.

  Shy turned back to Dale. “Would it be possible to listen to the rest of those recordings?”

  “Sure,” the cowboy said. “But that’s the only one that mentions you.”

  “I know. I’m just curious.”

  Dale gave Tommy an awkward thumbs-up and turned his attention back to his machine and began punching buttons. “Why don’t we start with the first one I ever recorded.”

  Shy was still trying to wrap his head around things. While he was creeping through the Pacific Ocean on a sailboat, half starved and baking in the sun, his dad had been searching for him. And then at the Sony lots, his dad had tried to teach him how to ride a motorcycle. It proved the guy was genuinely trying.

  But at the same time, should it really take a natural disaster to make someone want to be your dad?

  Dale cued up the first recording and hit Play, and Shy listened to the DJ introduce himself and explain why he was starting a radio show in the middle of a catastrophe. He’d lost everything, he said. His entire family. If he didn’t find something to do, or some way to give back, he’d be lost, too. Before the earthquakes he’d been a sound engineer at a radio station. He’d never actually been in front of a microphone. But he had all the satellite equipment. So here he was, starting a radio show. His focus would be on spreading information to survivors like himself.

  In the first few recordings, DJ Dan explained everything he knew about the earthquakes and the fires and where to get medical attention. Then he began interviewing people about where they were when it happened, and how they survived and who they were separated from. Then he started talking about the disease, too, and how quickly it was spreading. He gave information about how to get help from the government, where to find food drops, how to get medicine. He explained the zone system that was beginning to emerge and gave reports about the border rumored to be going up in Arizona.

  Shy’s heart sank when the DJ began talking about San Diego. The area near the border was one of the mos
t devastated regions in the state. People were calling it Ground Zero. The few who had survived the earthquakes and fires there were the first to contract Romero Disease.

  Shy glanced at Carmen, whose stare was fixed on the radio. She wasn’t even blinking. He knew he should have already told her what he’d learned from his dad, but maybe this got him off the hook.

  Shy was still thinking about back home when a distorted female voice then came on the DJ’s show. It made him sit up in his chair and listen more closely. He didn’t recognize the voice, but the cadence of the girl’s speech, and what she was saying, gave him a strange feeling. And she was using the name Cassandra.

  The voice explained a few details about the makeshift border in Avondale, Arizona—where Shy, Carmen and Shoeshine were heading—then shifted into an unexpected story about getting stuck in the tide with some guy at the beach. When she said the word “Shinola,” Shy’s whole body went numb.

  Shinola was the shoe polish brand he’d told Addie about when they were stranded on the broken lifeboat.

  It was her.

  No one outside of Otay Mesa knew that story.

  She was reaching out to him in code, distorting her voice to prevent someone from recognizing it. Like her dad. Or anyone else affiliated with LasoTech.

  “What’s wrong?” Dale asked Shy. “Do you know who this is?”

  Shy ignored Dale.

  He kept listening.

  There was a company that wanted to wipe out the Shinola brand, Addie said in her distorted voice, which meant there was a company that wanted to wipe out Shy. And everyone with him. The company, Addie went on, knew the sailboat had made it back to California. And it knew about the vaccine. And the letter.

  In other words, LasoTech knew everything.

  Addie ended the interview in a rush:

  It’s important for the Shinola company to understand two things. I have the missing page. And not every government helicopter is there to drop off food….