Her eyes narrowed and forehead wrinkled as she scowled at Nick. “I didn’t come to Oak Creek looking for you, but when I found out you were here, I thought I would be nice and find out if you wanted help escaping.”
“That’s why I’m glad you’re following me.” He grinned. “You always come to my rescue. So what’s the plan?” His voice grew serious and urgent. “How do we get out of this place?”
“I-I . . . don’t know.”
Nick stared down at his hands, scraping thick dirt from beneath his fingernails.
“I just need time to figure it out,” she assured. “Is there any way you could slip away during the day?”
Nick rolled his eyes and sighed. “I’m not that helpless, Rochelle. If I could just slip away, do you think I’d still be here?”
“Okay, I’m sorry.” Her apology held little sincerity. Wind hissed through bordering grass and she turned to scan the surroundings. Arguing with Nick had turned into a distraction, and she realized she’d spent far too long standing in one spot.
“You really shouldn’t be out here, should you?” Nick observed. “If you get caught . . .”
“It’s okay.” She whispered close to the bars, feeling a need to conceal her voice from invisible ears. “No one knows I’m here.”
“Until they find out. Then they won’t hesitate to lock you up in this place. We can spend the rest of our lives shoveling dirt and enjoying our rationed bowl of potato soup together.”
Lareina thought she noticed a slight waver in Nick’s voice, but she couldn’t be sure. “I never imagined you to be so sentimental.”
He pressed his forehead against the bars. “I’m being serious. If you get caught, we’re never getting out of this place.”
Despite the flutter of fear in Nick’s voice, she rolled her eyes and smiled, trying to lighten the mood. “I’ve told you before, I never get caught.”
Reaching through the bars, he clutched her wrist in a rough, cold hand. “Promise me you’ll be careful, Rochelle, and that you won’t do anything stupid.”
Instinctively, she pulled her arm back, but Nick didn’t let go. His tired eyes remained focused on her, and Lareina understood escaping Oak Creek wouldn’t be a simple game.
“I promise.” She certainly intended to be careful, but so much of the community remained a mystery to her. She didn’t quite know what kind of precautions to take.
Nick nodded and released his grip on her wrist. She pulled her arm back and tried to ignore the numbness in her ankles.
“Good,” he whispered. “Now get back to where you came from before they notice you’re missing.”
“But I still have so many questions. I don’t know what you’re doing, or—”
He held up a hand, stopping her words. “It’s manual labor, nothing exciting. I’ll tell you all about it when you get us out of here. Now go.”
Her walk back seemed shorter than it had on the way out. She followed the same path, slipped behind the evergreen bushes, and hoisted herself through the bathroom window. Sitting down against the wall, she caught her breath and shivered as she thought of Nick, hungry and trying to sleep in a cold, moldy prison. Imagining herself in Nick’s position made her stomach turn cartwheels. She felt trapped enough already without being locked behind bars.
Chapter 20
The week-old Dallas newspaper flopped against Lareina’s hands as she tried to turn the first page past a backward crease left by a former reader. The hospital waiting room was silent except for the bubbling of an aquarium and the tapping of the receptionist’s pencil. She scratched absently at her arm where the stitches would be removed today as she scanned the headlines.
Flooding across Texas Leads to Major Evacuation, Property Loss, and Crop Damage. Persistent rains have fallen across the plains, but nowhere as severely as Texas.
She scanned the first lines of the article, but it was information she knew all too well. Her eyes skipped to a new article.
A new political group known as The Defiance continue to inspire riots and violence in parts of Kansas and Missouri. Local authorities and politicians worry these extremists will soon control the region.
The paper rustled as she turned to the next page to continue the story. She’d heard of The Defiance before, mostly whispered among her fellow runaways on the streets of San Antonio. They were groups of disgruntled orphans who joined together and survived by any means necessary. The abandoned, ignored, forgotten children, coming of age in a broken society. People worried when these armies of teenagers robbed businesses, houses, and trains. That worry grew into fear when murders connected to The Defiance became common across Missouri.
Two schools of thought existed among teenagers haunting city streets. The first dismissed any possibility of association with The Defiance, citing their activities as appalling. The second expressed admiration that young people could establish a voice in a world that had turned on them. Lareina understood the fever was creating a vacuum in leadership and a shifting demographic in the ages of those who kept the world running, but it was unclear how these new leaders would affect the communities they led.
Defiance supporters have destroyed several railways in an attempt to gain control of the Texas-Oklahoma border.
The news didn’t seem to contain a glimpse of hope in a world collapsing around her, but it also seemed far away and irrelevant. She tried to focus on her most immediate problem: escaping Oak Creek with Nick. She felt confident she could steal enough food from the kitchen to get them through three or four days of travel. In fact, just the night before she had examined the simple lock keeping her out of the cafeteria and determined she could get in once she improvised some tools to pick it. But none of that mattered if she couldn’t come up with a plan to break Nick out of the barracks. Since exploring locked buildings seemed far more risky than sneaking around Oak Creek at night, she decided to limit her excursions to visiting Nick for the time being. She had, after all, promised she would be careful.
The fish tank filter hissed, and the low murmur of voices from deeper within the building seemed to move to the room next door. The tapping pencil sounded like a drum. A month seemed to pass in that one minute, and she decided the waiting would drive her mad. She was constantly waiting—waiting to talk to Aaron, waiting to free Nick, waiting to escape.
She started reading the newspaper again.
Shortages of medicine and medical supplies have been reported due to riots and railroad bombings.
Pages and pages of bad news bombarded her in tiny black type. Each story reported a severe problem, an unavoidable problem, an unsolvable problem. The thin newspaper grew heavier and heavier until she tossed it onto the chair beside her and turned away. Three other people sat in the waiting room, but she tried to ignore them by staring out at the gray morning.
“Rochelle Aumont,” a woman’s voice snapped.
Lareina jumped out of her seat and walked toward the nurse, who watched her approach with an annoyed frown. How many times had her alias been called? She smiled, hoping it would be enough to apologize for her inattention. It wasn’t the time to get lost in thought and make careless mistakes.
The nurse switched her clipboard to the other hand. “Follow me.”
Neither of them said a word as they walked down the hallway, which Lareina found preferable. In the exam room, she cooperated as the nurse took her weight and blood pressure then instructed her to wait and Doctor Swanson would see her soon.
Sitting on the exam table, she tried to plan what she could say to convince Aaron that they had to get Nick and leave. Aaron seemed determined to be happy at Oak Creek, but maybe she could give him a sense of the danger she was just beginning to discover. Signs in the cafeteria threatened a life sentence to the barracks for taking food, and signs posted on the front door of her residence building informed there would be serious consequences to anyone outside without permission after lights out. Why would such strict punishments be enforced for seemingly small infractions? And he wou
ld definitely be upset when she told him Nick’s condition.
The door squealed loudly on its unoiled hinges. “Hey, Rochelle. How’s your arm?” Aaron asked as he pushed the door shut.
His familiar face brought her a sense of calm, but something about his demeanor set her on edge. “It’s a lot better. I barely notice it anymore.”
“Are you getting enough sleep? You look really tired.”
She studied the room, examining every corner and surface without knowing exactly what she expected to find. Oak Creek gave her an uneasy feeling, as if someone watched and listened to every minute of her life. “I went to see Nick two nights ago.” She held her voice at a nearly inaudible whisper, leaning as close as she could to Aaron without falling face-first off the exam table.
Aaron’s eyes darted around the room, but when he didn’t find the invisible threats she feared, his eyes settled back on her.
“Do you know how the people in the barracks have to live, Aaron?” Her voice shook, though whether from worry about Aaron’s response or memory of her visit to Nick, she couldn’t be sure. “They barely feed them and there isn’t even glass in the windows. Nick is a prisoner over there. They all are.”
Turning away, Aaron faced the door for a full minute, holding his hand to the back of his neck. His head, starting slowly and gaining speed, shook from side to side. He spun around, jaw set, and held her gaze. “No way. That can’t be right. You must be mistaken.”
Tightening her grip around the edge of the exam table, she felt her only chance of a partnership slipping through her fingers. How could he accuse her of lying about this? Nick was their friend. “Aaron, I was there,” she protested. “I saw it all myself. Don’t you believe me?”
He looked down at her arm and didn’t answer as he began his work on removing her stitches.
“I can take you there to see it later tonight. To talk to him. Then you’ll understand.”
“Is that why you’re so tired? You’re sneaking around this place at night, looking for trouble?” Compared to the curious, interested Aaron she had become friends with, this one sounded aloof and disapproving.
She tried to swallow, but her throat felt constricted. Over the weeks she spent traveling with Nick and Aaron, she’d occasionally allowed herself to think of them as her family, the people she could count on to be there even when civilization seemed to collapse around them. Stinging betrayal quickly bubbled into anger.
“Looking for trouble,” she spat back at him. “I’m trying to save my friend, and your friend. I thought you wanted to help people, but you’re just going to settle for this?” She gestured to the little white room with her free arm.
So gently that she barely felt his touch, Aaron continued to remove stitches. She thought in a reversed situation, she would have poked a little harder had someone spoken to her the way she had spoken to him. Remorseful for her quick temper and disheartened by his lack of support, she sat still and silent.
“Your arm healed perfectly,” he said after long minutes of silence. “I can write you a note to get a few days off work so you can catch up on your sleep.”
Her feet landed on the tiled floor. “No, I’ll be fine.” She managed to keep an even tone, but her voice held a hint of disappointment and not a trace of warmth.
Aaron nodded and tried to smile as he walked her to the door, but their eyes didn’t meet. “If you need anything, you know where to find me.”
Of course, she thought as she stormed away. Anything but rescuing Nick from dying in prison. Anything but helping me to save all three of us from possible imprisonment or death. She left the hospital in such a distracted daze that she was halfway to the library before she heard someone calling her name and realized how hard rain pelted her face.
“Rochelle, wait, you’ll get soaked out here.”
Lareina stopped so abruptly she almost lost her balance. She turned to see the president jogging over to her, umbrella lifted. When he reached her, he held it higher so it would shelter both of them.
“Thank you. I didn’t even notice the rain, I guess.” She forced herself to smile. The last thing she needed was to raise the president’s suspicions of her. Drawing too much of his attention could be the most dangerous move in the entire game.
“Where can I walk you to?” He smiled a genuine smile that made him look friendly, even kind. Any trace of the stern leader she’d met the week before had vanished.
“I’m just on my way back to the library. I had a doctor’s appointment.” A sick feeling started in her stomach. Why would the president be out walking, alone, in the rain? Had he been waiting for her?
“I hope you’re feeling well.”
“Yeah, just getting the stitches removed from my arm.”
“Good, good.” He smiled again then glanced down at his watch. “You know, it’s almost lunch time. Do you want to join me for some soup and sandwiches?”
Was this some kind of test? “I should really get back to work. Louise is expecting me before lunch.”
“Nonsense. Louise will be fine, don’t worry. I’ll vouch for you.” He winked.
“All right, then. Let’s go.”
So much for not drawing attention to herself. She walked with the president past the library, past the guard station, and up to his house. They entered the big, cozy lobby and he directed her to a chair near the fireplace. When he went to make arrangements for lunch, Lareina closed her eyes and rested her head against the cushioned back of her chair. She felt sleepy, and the soft chair combined with warmth from the fire created the perfect atmosphere for a nap. Then she imagined Nick working out in the cold rain and sat up straight again.
“All right, lunch will be ready soon.” President Whitley crossed the room and sank into the chair next to her. “So, how are you liking Oak Creek so far?”
“It seems nice,” she lied. “The rest of the world is falling apart, but everything here is so well maintained. I like following all of the different pathways, but I haven’t had a chance to walk on all of them yet.”
“That’s understandable with this record cold, rainy fall we’re having. In the spring you’ll have more reason to explore, especially when the trees are flowering.”
“That sounds nice.” She decided not to waste an opportunity to acquire information. “This place seems so organized compared to the outside world. How do you keep everything running so smoothly?”
The president stiffened for a minute and Lareina worried she had asked the wrong question. But then he relaxed and leaned forward. “I like to think it’s the rules and structure. There’s nothing to fear when everyone knows their place and what to expect. Most of the people here have come seeking safety, and we’re more than happy to improve our community with the skills they have to offer.”
“But you don’t let everyone in?”
“No, we’re very selective. I have to determine who we can trust.” A huge smile swept across his face. “You don’t have to worry, though. We don’t have many people show up the way you did, but I’m sure glad you found your way here. I’ve thought about our conversation at your orientation meeting every day since you arrived.”
“Dinner is ready, sir,” a woman announced from the doorway, then disappeared.
“Excellent.” Taking her hand, Whitley led her down a hallway. She forced herself not to pull her hand back from his, smooth, dry, and gripping hers too tightly. He’d been thinking about their conversation every day?
Through a wide set of double doors, they entered a large dining room. Two places were set at a table capable of seating fifteen. The serving woman waited until they were settled then ladled soup into their bowls and placed sandwiches on their plates.
“Is there anything else I can get for you sir?”
“No, that will be all, thank you.”
Lareina ate her sandwich, trying to come up with another way to lead into a conversation about the barracks while Whitley talked about the flooding and responses from different governments throughout t
he state. She replied when necessary and played the part of an appreciative dinner guest.
“It might sound odd, but I knew there was something different about you from the moment I saw you.” The president smiled, but seemed to be lost in thought. “You’re different from any girl I’ve ever met.” He chuckled as if just realizing he was talking out loud. “I mean that in a good way.”
“Thanks.” She smiled trying to be polite, but she wasn’t sure how to react. From everything she had heard, she expected President Whitley to be threatening and hot tempered, not the kind of man who would shelter her from the rain and chat over lunch. It was almost nice to be appreciated after Aaron’s direct rejection of their friendship.
At the conclusion of lunch, the president walked her back to the library, holding doors open for her at every exit and entrance, and promised they would have lunch again soon. She agreed and returned to the front desk where Louise sat at her computer typing furiously.
“I’m back,” Lareina announced. “What would you like me to do?”
“Where have you been? Since when do doctor appointments last through lunch?”
“They don’t. After my appointment I had lunch with President Whitley.” She felt smug as she watched Louise’s anger fade into shock, then disbelief.
“Lunch with the president, Rochelle? I’ll be verifying that. Now go upstairs and dust—the shelves on the north wall are dirtier than I’ve ever seen them.”
The last few hours of work raced by and at five she rushed around performing her closing duties of pulling shades over windows and turning off every light except the one over the main desk. Louise sat at her small desk, writing, glancing from one piece of paper to another. She didn’t acknowledge Lareina’s presence, so she pulled her jacket from the hook along the wall and rushed out of the building before Louise could find another job for her to complete.
Taking a breath of icy air, she shoved her hands into the deep pockets of her jacket as she walked to the cafeteria for supper. It was time to see how much they could hold without anyone noticing.
Hope for the Best Page 17