The Journey Home

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The Journey Home Page 11

by Brandon Wallace


  “Taylor, c’mon!” He put on a burst of speed, caught the edge of the cargo bed one-handed, and scrambled up. Cody jerked in his arms, as if he were coughing out the last of his life. Jake noticed a wet blood spot on his shirt but tried not to think about it and instead held out a hand to help Taylor up.

  A last glance over the side of the cargo bed showed no sign of Blake. The two brothers hunkered down in the dark space. Jake tugged the tarpaulin over their heads.

  “Now what?” whispered Taylor.

  “We just have to wait.”

  “But Cody . . . he might—”

  “I know. But we can’t go out there until it’s safe!”

  Jake heard his brother sniff back tears in the dark. Jake pretended he hadn’t heard anything. He just put his arm around Taylor and hugged him close.

  The weird part was how familiar it all felt. Only a few days before, they’d been huddled together in a snow house, in a cramped little space like this, unable to leave until it was safe, with the cries of wild animals on the wind outside. Now they were hiding in a stranger’s truck on a back street of some unfamiliar city with criminals hunting them.

  Jake waited for as long as he dared. Cody was still shivering, and his breath came in shuddering gasps. Taylor tried to pet him and tell him it was going to be okay, but the dog yelped in pain the moment he was touched.

  From outside came the sounds of passing traffic and the voices of people coming and going in the street, but though Jake braced himself for angry shouts, none came. A police siren wailed, briefly, in the distance. He wondered if someone had seen Blake waving the pistol around and had called 911. There was no way to know.

  “Okay,” he said eventually. “Let’s move.”

  Taylor held on to Cody as Jake moved the tarpaulin back out of the way. They had begun to climb down, when Taylor gasped.

  “Jake, look in the cab!”

  “Huh?”

  “Snake!”

  “You’re hallucinating, Taylor. You need to rest, get something to eat—”

  Taylor pointed. “Look!”

  A flat, scaly head reared up inside the truck cab, looking at them through the window glass. Jake stared at the long, sinuous body that was twined around the steering wheel and vanished into the foot well.

  “I don’t believe it,” he breathed.

  Jake had seen snakes before, but only in the wild, and never anything to compare with this. The reptile had to be six feet long, easy, from snout to tail. It slid along the back of the truck seats as if it owned them, watching Jake and Taylor with eyes like polished jet.

  “What is it?” Taylor said. “An anaconda?”

  A laugh came from the sidewalk. “No, Draco’s a rock python. He’s better than a vehicle alarm, huh?”

  Jake gave a yell of surprise and half-jumped, half-fell from the back of the truck. The guy who’d spoken could only be the truck’s owner, by the look of him—a tall, gaunt man with spiked-up hair, torn jeans, and a long leather coat, all as black as his truck. Jake saw complicated tattoos on the backs of his hands.

  Behind him, walking up fast, was a girl with shocking pink hair shaved on the sides, and a T-shirt with a skeleton rib cage pattern. She folded her arms and glared at the boys with eyes that burned like lasers.

  “We’re sorry!” Jake burst out. “We needed a place to hide!”

  “What’d you steal?” the man said calmly.

  For a panicked moment Jake thought he must somehow know about Bull’s money. Then he realized that wasn’t possible. The man must have thought they were shoplifters. We look like a couple of delinquents, Jake thought.

  “We didn’t steal anything,” Taylor said, and the desperation in his voice made the strange-looking couple stop in their tracks. “This guy was chasing us, and Cody—he’s our dog—he got hit by a car!” Taylor held Cody’s limp body out to them.

  That changed everything. The girl strode up to Taylor. “Let me see.”

  Cody leaned up and, weakly, licked her cheek.

  “I’m Jola,” she said, “and this is Danny. You’d better bring Cody inside.”

  “Inside” turned out to be the apartment above a tattoo studio, reached via a graffiti-scrawled stairwell. Jake held tightly to his pack as they walked. These two might seem friendly, but he knew things could change in an instant.

  “Would you cancel the last booking, hon?” Jola asked Danny as she unlocked the door. “I think my hands are going to be full for a while.”

  “No problem.” In answer to the boys’ questioning looks, Danny explained: “Our studio’s downstairs. We’re tattoo artists.”

  Jola showed them into the apartment. Jake looked around in amazement at the objects inside—amazing sculptures made from twisted metal and salvaged junk. Something like a bear loomed beside the door, with hubcap eyes and claws made from recycled tableware. A mantis, looking like it was welded together from motorcycle parts, stood guard at the end of the corridor. And inside the living room, beside the couch, sat the sculpture Jake instantly chose as his favorite, a wolf made from weathered iron and steel.

  “Do you make all these?” he asked Jola.

  She nodded. “I love animals. I trained to be a vet, but I guess I’m an artist at heart. Now, Cody, let’s take a look at you.”

  She gently laid Cody down on the couch. Jake and Taylor watched as she carefully felt his limbs, checked how his eyes reacted to light, and listened to the sound of his breathing.

  Cody didn’t even yelp anymore. He was completely out cold.

  “Will he be okay?” Taylor whispered.

  Without looking up Jola said, “Why don’t you and your brother help yourselves to a drink? There’s sodas in the fridge.”

  Jake understood. “Come on. Let’s let her take care of him.”

  Danny came and joined them at the kitchen table, under a dangling giant hornet made from chrome and repurposed computer components. “What do you think?” he asked, jerking a thumb at it.

  “The sculptures are amazing,” said Jake.

  “You can find a lot of good stuff in the city, if you know how to look,” Danny said. “It’s a sin what some people throw away. Such a waste.”

  That sounds familiar, Jake thought. Despite being in the city, Danny and Jola weren’t so very different from them. They were using survival skills to get by too.

  “We made these,” he told Danny, pointing out the fringed leather jackets he and Taylor wore. “Tanned the hides ourselves.”

  “Seriously?” Danny whistled. “Impressive.”

  “Dad always says we have to use the whole deer,” Jake said. “Nothing gets wasted.”

  “I see where you’re coming from,” Danny said with a slow nod. “The city’s like a wild place too, when you live like we do. You have to know its ways. What’s safe to do and what’s not.”

  “Dad hates cities,” Taylor put in. “He says they’re poison.”

  “Well, a lot depends on your point of view,” Danny said, grinning. “I couldn’t live a nine-to-five life, wearing a suit and tie. That’d kill me. But here it’s different. ‘Welcome to the jungle. We’ve got fun and games.’ ” He twiddled on an imaginary guitar, and the boys laughed.

  The laughter died as Jola appeared in the doorway. Her fingers were bloody.

  Taylor leaped up from his seat. “Is he . . .”

  Jola smiled.

  “Good news, boys. Cody is going to be fine.” She put a tiny ivory-colored object down on the table. “He lost a tooth, and his hind leg’s sprained, but he’s a tough little cookie. He’ll pull through.”

  Taylor whooped out loud. Jake leaned back in his chair, sagging with relief. Thank God.

  “But,” Jola said, “and it is a big ‘but’ . . .” She went to wash her hands in the sink while she talked. “He needs to rest up and get better. That means he can’t run around after you. He needs to travel in a pet carrier or on a car seat.”

  Jake and Taylor exchanged horrified glances. “But we need to get to Pitt
sburgh!” Taylor said.

  “Pittsburgh?” Danny echoed. “I thought you guys were from round here.”

  “Got someone to drive you?” Jola asked.

  “No,” admitted Jake. “We were going to get the train.”

  Jola gripped the edge of the sink and let out a long sigh. “Okay, let me give it to you straight. If you try to take that dog with you all the way to Pittsburgh, he might not heal up properly. Sorry, but those are the facts.”

  “But what else can we do? We can’t leave him here!” cried Taylor.

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but . . . yes, you can.”

  “You’d do that?” Jake asked, stunned.

  “Sure. I won’t turn away an animal in need. I’ll look after him until he’s better, if you need me to, and you can pick him up in a week or so. I like the little guy. He’s a fighter.” She splashed cold water onto her face and toweled off. “Or you can take him with you and run the risk of his leg never healing right.”

  “That’s a really tough decision,” Jake said, frowning.

  “Yeah. But, it has to be your decision. Not ours.”

  Jake turned his face away. He already knew what he had to do.

  19 Danny drove like he was playing a video game. Jake and Taylor were flung this way and that as Danny threw the truck around tight bends, racing to reach Union Station in time to catch their train. Fortunately, Jola had taken Draco the python out before they’d climbed in.

  “Aww, come on, Grandpa, get out of the way!” Danny yelled at a slow-moving driver in front of him. “We’re on a mercy mission here!”

  Jake glanced at Taylor, hoping to see him grinning in excitement. But the boy just sat, unsmiling, letting the motion of the truck jostle him around. It was as if something inside him had broken.

  “Hey, champ,” Jake said. “It’s going to be okay.”

  “No, it’s not,” Taylor said.

  “You heard Jola. Cody will be fine. He just needs to rest up.”

  “We left him behind,” whispered Taylor. “It was my fault. I should have been holding him . . .”

  Jake understood now. No wonder Taylor had been so quiet since they’d left Danny and Jola’s apartment. It wasn’t just the sorrow of abandoning Cody. It was guilt.

  “Don’t talk like that. You aren’t to blame. You know who is?”

  Taylor shook his head and sniffed.

  “Valenti. He sent those two creeps after us. He threatened Mom, and it’s his fault Cody nearly got killed. We’re going to make him pay.”

  They were both flung forward, then back, as Danny brought the truck to a screeching halt outside Union Station. Jake smelled the acrid tang of burning rubber.

  “Got you here in one piece!” Danny yelled triumphantly.

  “Mostly,” Jake said, rubbing his neck.

  “Okay, guys. Train to Pittsburgh leaves in ten minutes. Look, here’s our card—it’s got everything on it, phone, address . . .”

  “Thanks—” Jake began.

  “No time for long good-byes,” Danny cut in. “You guys gotta go, go, go!”

  Jake and Taylor piled out of the truck, waved to Danny, and ran into the station. Jake was glad he’d counted out the money for their tickets in advance. Pulling out the entire wad of money would have attracted a lot of attention, especially looking as wild as they did.

  He bought the tickets from a surly attendant who didn’t even look up. “You’ll have to hurry,” the man said, even as it took him forever to punch in the purchase on his screen. “You don’t get no refund if you miss your train.”

  “I get it,” Jake said, snatching up the tickets the man finally doled out.

  Four minutes to go. They hurried through the crowds, hunting for their platform.

  “There it is!” Taylor said, pointing toward a sign at the other end of the station.

  The concourse was teeming with people studying the departures board, buying snacks at kiosks, and greeting friends. Jake and Taylor zigzagged through the crowd, skirting around weary travelers wheeling suitcases and pushing strollers.

  “Excuse me,” said Jake, navigating past a large family saying a tearful farewell to an elderly relative.

  “Final boarding for the Capital Express, stopping in Cleveland, Pittsburgh, and Washington, DC,” came an announcement over the loudspeaker.

  “We’re going to miss it!” cried Taylor as they sprinted toward their platform.

  As they neared the platform, a small vehicle pulling a luggage cart piled high with suitcases barred the way. It had stalled in front of the platform entrance, completely blocking the passage. Jake looked frantically left and right, but there was no room to squeeze past. There was only one thing to do—

  “Jump!” shouted Jake, leaping onto the cart and scrambling over the baggage. He didn’t even look behind him to see if his brother had followed his lead.

  “Hey, what do you think you kids are doing?” shouted the man driving the luggage cart.

  “All aboard!” called the loudspeaker.

  Jake ran to the train. His heart was pounding so hard, it felt like it would shatter his rib cage, but he didn’t stop. He could hear Taylor panting and gasping as he ran behind him.

  The last time they’d run to catch a train, it had been a freight train out of Pittsburgh; now it was one going in the opposite direction. Both times urgency had coursed through Jake’s veins.

  He sprinted up to the train, yanked open the carriage door, and climbed on board. Hauling Taylor up behind him, he panted with relief as the train guard blew his whistle and the train lurched forward.

  “Phew!” gasped Taylor, clutching his side. “Pittsburgh, here we come!”

  Later, after they’d found their compartment and stowed Jake’s pack, the boys sat munching burgers they’d bought from the dining car. Jake tore off a piece of meat without thinking and felt a sudden pang of loss. He’d meant to feed it to Cody, but their little terrier wasn’t there. Sharing food with the dog had become second nature to him.

  “Man, I still can’t believe we made it,” Taylor said, chuckling. “That was a close call.”

  Jake shrugged. “We’ve made it this far. I wasn’t going to let a stupid luggage cart get in the way of us getting on the train. Not after all we’ve been through.”

  “Yeah. Remember that time when Cody . . .”

  Taylor’s voice trailed off. He yawned.

  Jake sighed, stood up, and folded the seat down to make a bed. “You can sleep if you want. We’ve got a long way left to go.”

  “What about you? Don’t you need to sleep too?”

  Jake looked out the window at the dark countryside, with the white moon high above. It was lighting their way home, to their mom, and to Valenti. He had to be ready to meet that threat.

  “Not yet,” he said. “I’ve got too much on my mind.”

  Later, Jake sat writing in his journal while the train rushed on toward Pittsburgh. Taylor lay curled up on his makeshift bed, snoring, a pillow in his arms the way he usually cuddled Cody.

  When they got to Pittsburgh, they’d need a plan. They had to be ready to face Valenti and his men. Jake knew it wouldn’t be easy, but he and Taylor were hunters. They knew how to track and trap prey in the woods. Now they just had to figure out how to do it in the city.

  20 “Jake, wake up!”

  Bright light was in Jake’s eyes. He blinked and jerked upright. “Where are we?”

  “Pittsburgh! We’re home!”

  Home. The word had an electric effect on Jake. Suddenly he was no longer tired. The train was slowing down, almost at its final destination.

  “I woke up an hour ago,” said Taylor, “but I let you sleep.”

  They packed Jake’s bag one last time and hurried to the door. Passengers were already waiting to disembark.

  When the train finally stopped and they could step out onto the platform, the strangeness of it all hit them. They were finally home, among old, familiar sights—but there was a strangeness about it. S
omehow it felt smaller.

  They took the bus back to their old neighborhood. Jake took out Marty’s phone, thinking maybe he should call the house and let their mom know they were coming, but then he tucked it away again. Valenti might be there. Better not give him a warning.

  Together Jake and Taylor walked back down the route they knew so well. Thick gray skies had settled overhead, and a bone-chilling wind whistled over brown lawns and down empty streets.

  “Where is everyone?” Taylor asked as they passed the church and the houses of neighbors.

  “School? Work? Staying warm indoors? They’re not all outdoor types.”

  That reasoning, though, didn’t keep the knot out of Jake’s stomach as they turned onto their old street and caught sight of their house.

  As they approached, Jake looked at it closely. Little had changed. White paint still peeled from the wooden siding, and a few more slats had fallen off the wooden fence, but it was basically the same old house they’d left five months before.

  So why does it feel so different? Jake wondered.

  “It doesn’t look like anyone’s home,” Taylor said.

  “Only one way to find out.”

  Slowly Jake walked up to the ragged screen door that Bull had torn off in a rage right before the boys had left home. Taylor hesitated at the foot of the steps, and Jake could tell that he, too, was afraid of what they might discover. But Taylor took a deep breath and climbed the stairs one at a time. He knocked.

  Nothing happened.

  “Try again,” Jake said.

  Taylor banged on the door more loudly this time, but again there was no response.

  “I don’t hear anyone moving inside,” Taylor said. “Maybe she’s out?”

  Jake didn’t think so. “Let’s go round the back. Maybe we can—”

  Taylor hopped back down the steps, and they began to walk toward the corner of the house. Suddenly, though, they heard the front door squeak open behind them.

  “Jake! Taylor!”

  The boys spun around to see Jennifer, standing in the front doorway.

  Jake’s heart almost leaped out of his chest. “Mom!”

 

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