Fugitive X

by Gregg Rosenblum

  “Your funeral,” said Cort. “Don’t thank me.” Cort shook his head one more time, then went back to his bed.

  Kevin slipped out the door and shut it carefully behind him. He leaned against the dorm wall, peering out at the settlement, taking stock. It was a clear night, but a crescent moon, so the moonlight was very faint. He saw no movement in the gloom and heard no noise. He began heading toward the Wall gap, moving from building to building, ready to hide behind the walls if he saw anyone. Cort was right—the gap would be his best bet, even though the steep hill, almost a cliff face, wouldn’t be easy to climb. Especially in the dark. But the gateways, with their guard posts, would be too hard to get past.

  Kevin heard footfalls, and he dropped to the ground and nestled tight against a wall. He saw a vague shape approaching from the west. He crawled backward, around the side of the building, the shuffling sounds that he made sounding horribly loud to his ears. He peered around the corner. The murky figure was now obviously a man, with a burst rifle slung over his shoulder. If the guard followed the central pathway, Kevin would be fine; the path turned away from his hiding spot. But if he kept moving in the direction he was now walking, he’d come right past Kevin. . . . There’d be nowhere for Kevin to hide. He carefully raised to a crouch, balancing himself with his hands on the ground, preparing to run.

  The guard came closer, approaching the turn in the path, and Kevin tensed. The guard followed the path, each step taking him farther from Kevin. Kevin let out his breath, feeling a little dizzy from the tension. He waited for the guard to fade back into the darkness, then began heading toward the gap again.

  The steep hillside, just beyond the gap, rose up almost vertically. It was just visible in the moonlight. Would he be able to climb it in the darkness? If it had been Cass, she’d scramble up it in no time, blindfolded . . . but Kevin had never been the best climber. He had no choice, though. He hurried across the open space between the last building and the gap, running in a crouch. He felt terribly exposed, the back of his neck tingling and his breathing threatening to turn into a pant. He reached the gap, untouched, no patrols nearby, and he took a deep breath to steady his breathing, then stepped across the perimeter of the Wall and reached up for a handhold. The cliff face wasn’t quite vertical; he could lean into it, and as long as he found footholds, he wouldn’t have to support himself too much with his hands. He slowly began to climb.

  Kevin had made it fifteen feet up, with about thirty feet to go, when the slope lit up with a beam of light and the voice of 23 called out from just behind him. “You have triggered the perimeter sensors,” it said. “Come down now or I will be forced to take coercive measures.”

  Kevin looked over his shoulder. 23 stood at the base of the hill, holding up a lightstrip torch aimed at him. Kevin turned back to the hill and began scrambling wildly up the slope. If he could just get to the top, he could make it into the forest and then he’d have a chance . . . Kevin’s right foot slipped, and he grabbed for a handhold but found nothing to hold on to. He slid down the slope, scraping his belly and landing in a heap at the base of the hill, next to 23’s feet.

  23 bent over him and reached out its hand to help Kevin up. Ignoring the bot, Kevin pushed himself to his feet. He brushed the dirt off his shirt and pants, the scrapes on his stomach already feeling like they were on fire. He held his hand up, blocking the painful brightness of the lightstrip that 23 was still focusing on him. “I’m leaving the Island,” he said.

  “No, you are not,” said 23.

  Kevin took a step back from the robot. He slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out the modified soldering tool. He raised his arm and pointed it at 23 and thumbed the trigger. There was a small popping sound and then the tool burst into flame, scalding Kevin’s hand. “Dammit!” he yelled, dropping the tool and clutching his hand to his chest.

  23 stepped on the tool, smothering the flame, and grabbed Kevin’s arm firmly at the bicep. “Come. Your burn will be treated, and then you will return to your dormitory.”

  Kevin tried to shrug out of 23’s grasp, but the bot’s grip tightened painfully and held on. Kevin balled his unburned left hand into a fist, thinking desperately that maybe if he punched 23 in one of its leather patches, he could actually do some damage—and then he and 23 were suddenly bathed in a new light that flickered and bobbed.

  “What’s going on here?” said a human voice. Two guards were running toward them, one carrying a large focused-beam lantern, the other holding a burst rifle. The two men slid to a stop ten feet away. The guard with the burst rifle steadied his weapon, aiming it at Kevin’s chest. “Report,” said the man holding the rifle. “Is this boy the perimeter breach?”

  23 stepped between the man and Kevin. “The situation is controlled,” it said.

  The guard lowered his rifle, now aiming it at Kevin’s feet. “I asked for a report,” he said.

  “The breach was accidental,” said 23.

  “What is he doing here?” said the other guard, the one holding the light.

  “I have been tasked with training the youth in Wall technology,” said 23. “I was instructing him in night repair work. A soldering tool malfunctioned and burned his hand, and he inadvertently breached the perimeter. I will see to his hand and return him to his dormitory.”

  Kevin was shocked and utterly confused. Why was 23 covering for him?

  The guards didn’t speak. The story made little sense, Kevin knew. Why would they be working on the Wall at two in the morning? He hoped the guards would just assume that the bot wouldn’t lie, wasn’t capable of lying. . . .

  The guard slung the rifle over his shoulder, and the other lowered the intensity of his light and aimed it away from Kevin and 23. “Fine,” said the guard with the gun. “Carry on. But in the future let the patrols know if you plan on being out past curfew.”

  23 nodded. The guards walked away.

  “Why’d you lie?” said Kevin, after the guards had disappeared into the darkness. 23 said nothing. “You know that soldering tool was supposed to kill you,” Kevin added.

  23 bent down and picked up the burnt soldering tool and inspected it briefly. “This was poorly modified,” it said. “I see you have removed the regulating coil, but you should have realized that the small aperture would not properly channel the energy burst. I have come to expect better work of you.”

  “Yeah, well, it was the best I could do,” said Kevin. “You didn’t leave any burst rifles lying around.”

  “Come. We will wake the medic to see to your burn.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  23 didn’t reply. Its hand still holding Kevin’s arm firmly, it led him away from the Wall.

  CHAPTER 27

  “WHAT HAPPENED IN THE CITY, CASS?” NICK ASKED. “WHAT DID THEY do to you?”

  Cass refused to answer. She just trudged along between Nick and Farryn, looking straight ahead with dull, zombie-like eyes.

  He knew he should leave her be, but he felt desperate to reach her, to jog her memory somehow. “Do you remember getting injured in the woods? I had to let the bots take you to save you. I was going to go back to the city for you . . . and Mom and Dad.”

  Cass twisted angrily toward him, her eyes flashing, and spit out, “I know my parents. My real parents. The ones who your parents stole me from fifteen years ago. The ones that the Advisors returned me to.”

  “Cass,” said Nick, excited that he had provoked a response, even if it wasn’t the one he wanted, “your birth parents died in the Robot Revolution. Those people in the City aren’t your real parents.”

  Cass shook her head in anger and disgust and refused to speak again.

  Lexi took Nick’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “She’ll be okay,” she whispered. “It just might take some time.”

  Nick didn’t answer. He held on to Lexi’s hand so tightly it must have hurt, but Lexi didn’t complain.

  Farryn walked alongside Cass, as silent as she, staring down at his boots. Cass s
tumbled over a tree root. Farryn reflexively reached out and grabbed Cass’s arm to steady her, but she recoiled from him like he was a snake about to bite. Farryn quickly stepped back, holding his hands out in front of him in a gesture of innocence, his face a mask of contrition.

  They had been hiking for an hour and were crossing through a burned-out cluster of pre-Rev buildings—it looked like maybe it had been a shopping area, but the destruction was too complete to tell for sure or to hope for any salvage—when Cass, without warning, turned and sprinted back in the direction they had come. She ducked through the wreckage and toward the tree line like a rabbit.

  “Cass, no!” yelled Nick. He took off after her, but he knew he couldn’t catch her, she was so damned quick. . . .

  Lexi and Farryn were right behind him, but Nick knew they had no chance either. Nick cursed. Now all he could do, he realized, as he awkwardly pushed aside a tree branch that Cass had gracefully ducked underneath without even slowing, was try to keep her in sight. He couldn’t catch her, but hopefully he could outlast her. She couldn’t run forever, and if he managed to stay close enough, he’d be able to wear her down.

  He pushed himself to run harder, faster. It wasn’t good enough. She was still pulling away. “Cass!” he yelled again, his voice ragged, knowing that she wouldn’t listen. “Cass, wait!”

  Cass hit an uphill patch, and that slowed her down just a bit, and then Erica came barreling in from Cass’s left and launched herself headfirst at Cass’s legs. The two went down in a tangle of limbs. Nick, Farryn, and Lexi quickly reached them. Cass was cursing and squirming like a fish, kicking, punching, even trying to bite, but Erica was bigger and stronger, pinning down Cass’s arms and legs and pressing her tight against the ground.

  Nick grabbed Cass’s shoulders, and with Farryn’s help, untangled her from Erica and pulled her to her feet. Nick held on tightly to Cass’s arms. She tried to pull away, then tried to kick him, and he had to spin her around and hold her in a tight bear hug to keep her from hurting him.

  “Calm down, Cass!” he said, his mouth close to her ear. Cass jerked her head backward, slamming the back of her head into Nick’s cheekbone. “Dammit!” he yelled. His eyes instantly teared; he knew he was going to have a nasty bruise. He tightened his grip, braced his back against a tree, and just held on.

  “Cass,” said Farryn, speaking gently, as if to a spooked horse. “It’s okay, Cass. We’re on your side.”

  Cass ignored him, continuing to struggle in Nick’s arms. He held her tight, so tight it was probably hard for her to breathe, but it was the only way he could keep her from hurting him. Finally she stopped thrashing and just stood quietly, panting from the exertion.

  “Let me go,” Cass whispered. She started to cry. “Let me go home.”

  Nick rested his head against the tree and closed his eyes, fighting back his own tears. He could feel his sister shaking in his arms as she cried. “It’s gonna be okay,” he said, more to himself than to Cass. “You’ll be okay.”

  They decided, although Nick felt absolutely horrible about it, to tie Cass’s wrists together. It wouldn’t stop her from bolting again, but running with her hands tied would slow her down enough that she’d be easy to catch. They didn’t have any rope, so they used a strip of cloth taken from Nick’s shirt.

  They resumed their hike. Cass walked in silence, her head down. Farryn and Lexi were flanking Cass, keeping a close eye on her, so Nick approached Erica, who was setting the trail.

  “Thank you,” he said. “For catching Cass.”

  Erica nodded. She had scrapes on her cheek and forearm from rolling on the ground or maybe from Cass’s fingernails.

  “You should wash those,” he said, pointing at the scrapes.

  “I’m okay,” she said.

  They walked quietly for a few minutes, and then Erica said, “She might not come back. Your sister. Her head, I mean.”

  “She’ll be fine,” Nick said sharply. “She just needs some time.”

  Erica shrugged. “Look, you’ve gotta think this through. She’s loyal to the bots right now, and we’re taking her back to the rebels? Ro’s not going to be happy about that.”

  “So what am I supposed to do, just let my sister go back to the City?” said Nick, spitting out the words in an angry whisper, since he didn’t want Cass to hear. “And where else can I take her? We have nowhere else to go, and the rebels are still my best chance at finding Kevin.”

  “Nick, I hear you,” said Erica. “I’m just saying, don’t expect a big welcome back hug.”

  Cass spent the rest of the day in near silence, with only the occasional “yes” or “no.” That night they took shifts staying up to guard her. She slept for only a few hours, then sat up against a boulder, leaning her head back, staring at the stars. She stayed that way most of the night, awake, watching the sky, while the others took turns watching her. When it was Nick’s turn, he sat across from her, ten feet away, leaning against a tree trunk, his arms hugging his knees. He studied his sister, who was still staring up at the night sky. Last he had seen her, she was dying on the grass in a pool of her own blood, a jagged stick jutting from her chest. She looked fine now, healthy, whole. But her brain had been twisted around and scrambled by those damned machines. She was still gone, missing like Kevin.

  “Cass,” he said quietly.

  Cass ignored him.

  “You’re going to remember,” he said. “You’ll see.”

  She remained silent.

  “You used to paint the stars,” he said. “You had a sketchbook and birch-bark canvas and a set of brushes that Dad traded for, and Mom figured out how to mix paint in the primary colors—”

  “Stop,” Cass said, without looking at Nick. “Leave me alone.”

  Nick wanted to say more, but he held back. Cass sighed, then lay down on the ground, tucked her hands under her head, and closed her eyes. After a few minutes, her breathing slowed and deepened. Nick took a parka from his pack, walked quietly over to Cass, and laid it over her to keep her warm. She murmured and shifted, and Nick froze, but she didn’t wake.

  The next afternoon, about a quarter mile from the rebel camp, Erica laid a hand on Nick’s arm and whispered, “Guard up ahead, fifty meters. Behind a tree.”

  “They know us,” said Nick. “No point in us sneaking around.” He kept walking and called out, “Hello! Anyone there?”

  Marco stepped out from behind a tree, his burst rifle aimed squarely at Nick. Nick held his hands up. “Marco! It’s okay,” he said. “It’s Nick.”

  Marco held his rifle steady. “The new girl,” he called out. “Who is she?”

  “My sister,” said Nick.

  Marco aimed his rifle at Cass, studying her through the scope. “Your sister from the City?” he said tensely.

  “Yes, but she’s not chipped! Don’t worry!” said Nick. He shifted closer to Cass. If Marco was going to be crazy and shoot, Nick wanted to be close enough to shield Cass. . . .

  Marco lowered his rifle, and Nick let out a breath of relief and took a step toward Marco. Marco quickly raised his rifle again, and Nick stopped in his tracks. “Don’t move!” said Marco. He tapped the comm bracelet on his left wrist, then whispered into it, too softly for Nick to hear. He kept his eyes and his rifle trained on the group.

  “We could just turn around and leave,” whispered Lexi, who had stepped forward to stand close to him.

  “And go where?” Nick whispered back. “And find Kevin how?”

  They waited, staring at Marco, Marco staring at them, nobody speaking. After a few minutes two rebels, whom Nick recognized but had never spoken to, arrived with a backpack and the chip scanner. One carried a burst rifle, the other a lase pistol, which they aimed at the group while Marco walked up to Cass, holding up the scanner.

  Cass backed away, looking panicked. “What is that?” she said. “Stay away!”

  “It’s a chip scan,” Marco said. “Make sure you don’t have any bot implants tracking you.”

&n
bsp; “Stay away from me,” Cass repeated, her eyes still looking wild.

  “She’s fine, Marco,” said Farryn. “There’s no chip in her.”

  “She’s not coming into camp until she’s been scanned. And you better hope she doesn’t have any trackers in her.”

  “I don’t want to come into your damned camp!” Cass said. “I just want to go back to the City!”

  Marco turned to Nick in surprise. “What the hell?” he said. “We’ve got a true believer here?”

  “There was nowhere else to go,” Nick explained.

  Marco shook his head, frowning. “Ro’s going to be thrilled.” He ran the scanner slowly over Cass, who still looked apprehensive, but held still.

  “She’s clean, at least,” Marco said. He stepped away, tapped his bracelet, and spoke quietly. He was silent a moment—must have been listening to an earbud, Nick realized—then he nodded. “Copy that,” he said. He nodded at the other two rebels, who fanned out to the left and right of the group, their weapons still aimed. Marco reached into the pack and pulled out five gray metal collars. He held them up, almost apologetically. “Stun collars,” he said. “Ro’s orders. Don’t worry, I won’t activate them unless I have to.”

  “Rust that!” said Erica. “I’m not wearing a damned stun collar!”

  “You’ll wear it, or we’ll shoot you right here, right now,” said Marco. He shrugged. “Your choice. Anyway, they’re just for now, probably. Ro wants to make sure you’re still safe.”

  Nick looked at the collars dangling in Marco’s hand, then at the burst rifle and lase pistol aimed at him. At Lexi. At his sister. “Put it on, then,” he said.

  Marco snapped a collar around Nick’s neck. The metal was cold on his skin. “Don’t try to take it off,” Marco said. “Best you’ll do is trigger the autoburst, which’ll kill you.”

  Nick felt a wave of revulsion and anger. Erica had tried to warn him, but he hadn’t listened—he had walked himself, and his friends, and his sister, right into this. And now they were all collared like dogs.