Hope for the Best

by Vanessa Lafleur

  She reached for the door. Almost there. Don’t look suspicious.

  “Hey, stop right there,” The Defiance guard yelled.

  She didn’t stop, but pushed the door open and darted out onto the crowded sidewalk. Dodging people, occasionally bumping into them, she pushed her feet across the pavement, but the guard’s shouting always echoed right behind her. He’s better at this than Galloway, she decided, regretting ever seeing the rolls. Thieves in San Antonio were hung for their crimes, but stealing from The Defiance wouldn’t result in such an easy death. She swallowed hard remembering the stories of beatings, lost fingernails, and blinding that could never be verified since no one ever survived. It couldn’t be true. A knocking in her head matched the rhythm of her feet, and the sky blurred with concrete and gray buildings. She had to hurry. If they locked her up or put her to death, Aaron would die alone, believing she’d left him behind on purpose.

  Ahead, she spotted a gathering of people waiting outside the door of a building labeled Carrie’s Coffee. Seeing her chance, she pushed through the crowd despite people’s protests, ignoring demands of “Watch where you’re going.” She dropped the bag of rolls amongst the crowd and turned into an alley that ended in a brick wall. Two dumpsters, countless bags of trash, and a pile of rotting pellets offered her only options for hiding. Knowing the guard couldn’t be far behind, she hoisted herself up to the edge of the dumpster and slid inside.

  Lareina hunched in a dark corner that smelled like rotten fish and sour milk. Nearby and getting closer, the guard’s loud, angry voice questioned people in the crowd, but she couldn’t hear their responses, only the rising grumble of frustration in the interrogator’s voice. For the first time since she’d been in the city, she felt grateful for the self-centered attitude the majority of people had adopted. Still, she waited tensely, hoping The Defiance guard wouldn’t decide to check the alley. He had his bread back; what more could he want? She held her breath, closed her eyes, and willed herself to remain absolutely motionless.

  “Did you see which way she went?” the threatening questioning passed the intersection of the alley.

  Voices rose and faded. Soon she couldn’t distinguish between individual conversations as the roar of a crowd gained volume. Five minutes, ten minutes, twenty minutes passed and her legs shook, unable to support her crouching stance any longer. Not wanting to sit amongst the trash, she stood and peered over the edge of the dumpster. Her ears hadn’t deceived her. People filled the street, shouting and hoisting signs into the air. Down with The Defiance, one sign screamed in bold black letters. End the Occupation in Dallas, Save the City, another announced in dripping red paint that reminded her of blood.

  If the guard hadn’t given up his search, he would never find her in that crowd, and it appeared he had bigger problems to deal with. Lareina hopped out of the dumpster and pulled her hood up. Plunging her way into the crowd, she pushed past men shouting their resistance, women thrusting signs high into the air, and occasional children crying in the chaos.

  “Clear the streets. You have one minute to clear the streets,” a loud voice thundered from above and echoed over her.

  She froze and stood on her tiptoes, trying to find the origin. Some of the people around her looked up and she followed their gazes to the roof of a three-story building just down the street. Six teenage boys and one girl, no older than herself, glared down at the crowd, shoulders back and heads high with an air of evil rebellion.

  “This is our city now, just as St. Louis and Kansas City are ours.” The assumed leader spoke into some kind of megaphone, amplifying his voice, bringing the crowd to a silent attention. “Join us and we’ll bring an end to the injustice of our broken country.”

  “Never,” a voice shouted from below in the street. People backed away from the resister and she spotted him. The brave boy couldn’t have been older than twelve and she watched as he raised a gun, aiming toward the roof. A shot reverberated down the street, bouncing between buildings, and the boy crumpled to the ground. Another shot echoed, followed by a deafening cadence of gunfire.

  Chapter 37

  The crowd became a stampede and Lareina a part of the shoving, scrambling confusion. She pushed forward, stumbling, but unable to fall with people packed so tightly around her. Someone’s knee jabbed hard into her leg, an elbow slammed into the side of her skull, and despite welling tears, she continued to move with the wall of former protesters. Somewhere in the deafening roar her ears popped, and the gunfire mixed with panicked shouting that thundered all around her.

  Something warm splattered across her face and the woman beside her fell to the ground with a yelp. Rubbing a hand across her forehead, Lareina examined the sticky red substance on her fingers. She pushed forward faster, trying to get out of the crowd, but always finding herself roughly shoved back into her bubble of space. People continuously vanished, succumbing to their injuries and sinking to the ground. The pavement below her feet grew slippery, but she didn’t dare look down to verify what stole traction from her tennis shoes.

  The crowd thinned. She didn’t stop, stared straight ahead, avoided looking back. Soon no one ran beside her and she found herself alone on an abandoned street as the setting sun filtered through the clouds, shimmering against windows on the top floors of buildings and casting shadows at the ground level. A narrow alley beckoned between two skyscrapers. She ducked inside and slid to the ground, unable to stand on her wobbly legs any longer. Blood covered her hands and stained her clothes. She felt sick and dry heaved against the wall, but nothing remained in her stomach for her to expel.

  Tears spilled down her face and her breath came in gasping sobs. Afraid to move, she cried alone, watching shadows shiver across the opposite wall. Fleeting images of the scene replayed in her mind, preventing her from catching her breath. Her instincts screamed at her to run far away from the city and never look back. But she had left Aaron behind in the morning, and if she didn’t hurry, darkening twilight would find him all alone, lying on the cold concrete.

  Her legs throbbed, her jaw and forehead burned, and she had as much control over her arms as wet noodles, but she managed to pull her stiff, numb body to its feet. A wave of dizziness passed as she pressed herself against the wall then forced herself out onto the sidewalk. Silence replaced the cacophony of chaos from earlier. Edges of yellow lights seeped past shades in windows, sealing the world out, leaving her alone. She limped, impeded by her injuries from the stampede, past boarded up windows and glass on the sidewalks that glittered like snow under half lit street lights.

  “Rochelle? . . . I mean, Lareina?” The voice floated on the air faintly behind her. Aaron couldn’t have moved, so she dismissed it as a delusion.

  “Lareina?” the voice said again, closer and a bit sharper.

  If someone intended to hurt her, she didn’t have the energy to fight him off. In her last act of disapproval for all she had seen that day, she spun around to face her death.

  One lone figure stood ten feet away, hands stuffed in the pockets of a baggy coat, only a silhouette against the half-light of dusk. She strained her blurry eyes to make out the familiar features of messy blond hair, straight thin nose, and sleepy eyelids.

  “Nick?” She whispered his name. Logic told her he couldn’t be standing there in front of her. She blinked. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. He didn’t fade.

  Nick stepped forward, close enough that she could see his expression, then stopped and took a step back. His mouth opened as if he would cry out then twisted into a cringe. It was a look of disgust and horror. She remembered her blood-splattered clothes and waited for him to make a judgment.

  “Lareina, what happened to you? You look . . .”

  Awful, disgusting, like a monster. She could think of plenty of words to finish his sentence, but he didn’t utter them. He looked so clean and neat, but his eyes darted from side to side, constantly scanning the empty street. She shivered. She wanted Nick to take her hand in his, needing the c
omforting touch of another human, but everything from his posture to his expression warned her to stay back.

  “I got . . .” The words jammed in her throat so she swallowed and took a breath. “I got caught up in the protest. They . . . I couldn’t . . . I tried . . .”

  Nick pulled his hands from his pockets and let them rest at his sides. He moved forward, bridging the gap between them until she could smell bitter coffee on his breath.

  “Are you hurt?” His cold contempt melted to genuine concern.

  She shook her head. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

  “I got worried when I saw you at the train station without Aaron.” His words sounded sincere, but something in his eyes told a different story. If she had more time and less worries, if she wasn’t so tired, she might have evaluated his honesty further, but the darkening sky indicated that she had accomplished nothing in an entire day.

  “Aaron,” she exclaimed. “Nick, he’s hurt and I didn’t even get him any food.” Her knees wobbled and she wanted to sink into the sidewalk, sink into darkness where she could sleep for a week.

  “I have a room at a hotel by the railroad tracks. We can all stay there until we catch a train out of here.”

  She stared at him. “How can you afford a hotel?”

  “I sold the gun you left in my bag. You didn’t think I could make it without your help, but I can handle things.” His tone sounded ominous to Lareina, but she just figured he wasn’t ready to trust her yet. It’ll all be better once we have time to talk, she decided not wanting to push away her only ally.

  “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “How bad is Aaron hurt?” Nick asked. A late street light buzzed to life.

  “Bad.” She pictured the trap around his leg then forced herself to breathe.

  “Where is he?” His eyes narrowed, watched her reaction, created a barrier between them. Did he suspect her of lying? About this?

  She led the way, and Nick followed her eight blocks to the overpass. Silence threatened to obliterate her forced calm. She wanted to talk about something, anything, but he didn’t say a word. He walked an arm’s length away from her, but she could feel his eyes scrutinize her with an aversion that burned right into her thoughts. The scared Nick, the judgmental Nick, the arguing Nick—each would have been preferable to the silent, aloof Nick.

  When the overpass came into view, she ran toward it, and Nick did the same, never letting her out of his sight.

  “Aaron,” she shouted into the darkness before her eyes adjusted. “Aaron.” No one responded. Soon her vision cleared enough for her to realize that Aaron, the backpack, everything was gone except for her message scrawled on the pavement. She ran her fingers over the words then patted the concrete around her as if she expected her friend to materialize there.

  A sudden breeze whistled overhead and swept her hair over her eyes. “He’s gone.” Her despairing voice wasn’t loud enough to compete with the wind. “I left him right here this morning and he’s gone.”

  Chapter 38

  “Aaron,” she yelled. It didn’t make sense. He couldn’t go anywhere on his own. Who could have taken him?

  “Lareina,” Nick shouted. “Listen.”

  “I’m here,” Aaron’s muffled voice announced.

  It didn’t come from under the overpass but from outside. Lareina darted out from under the bridge, closely followed by Nick.

  “I’m here,” Aaron repeated.

  Following his voice, she and Nick turned toward the embankment alongside the overpass. Aaron sat there, half hidden by the tall brush, but he looked no worse than before. Running over to him, she collapsed into the grass, and wrapped him in a hug. He hugged her back, squeezing tighter than she expected.

  “What are you doing out here? Are you okay?” she asked. Neither of them pulled away from the embrace.

  “I could hear people walking by and I thought I would be safer out here. I was afraid maybe you wouldn’t be back,” he admitted.

  Little by little, Aaron released his grip and she leaned back. The dewy grass felt cold against her knees. “How could you think I wouldn’t come back? I left a note and I left my backpack.”

  For the first time, he got a good look at her and his hands lifted to her face, gently feeling along her swollen jawline and pushing her hair back from the lump on her forehead. “Lareina, what happened to you? All of that blood . . .”

  She shivered, remembering all that she had survived, not ready to relive it. “We have to get out of Dallas right away. The Defiance is in control now.”

  Nick stepped forward. “Guys, if you haven’t noticed, it’s getting dark, so how about you finish this conversation at the hotel.”

  “Is that Nick?” Aaron’s voice brightened. “Where did you find him?”

  “He found me,” she explained. “He’s going to help us.”

  “It’s about time he took his turn,” Aaron joked. A wide grin spread over his face; Lareina hadn’t seen him smile since the accident.

  Nick rolled his eyes then smiled. He knelt down next to her, and she watched his reaction progress from emotionless stare to horrified shudder at the sight of bloody bandages securing a piece of picket fence acting as a splint. His cringe faded to a guilty frown as he realized the danger and urgency of the situation. For a second he turned away, took a few heaving breaths, then looked back to his friends.

  “Oh man, what happened to you?”

  “I won the lottery and found the trap hundreds of others managed to miss,” Aaron admitted, forcing a weak chuckle.

  “I know what that’s like,” Nick reassured. He positioned himself so he wouldn’t be able to see Aaron’s leg in his peripheral vision. “Don’t worry, Lareina and I will find a way to fix this.”

  They pulled Aaron to his feet and began their slow walk through cold fog that materialized between buildings, transforming distant sounds to ghostly echoes. Aaron tottered from side to side, leaning against Nick as they moved toward the train tracks. Limping along beside them, Lareina hoped no one would notice three teenagers hobbling through the darkness. Her head ached, her feet protested every step, and her eyes watered, but just when she decided the promise of rest had to be a cruel joke, a false hope, Nick pointed out the hotel from a block away. She stared in amazement up to the top of the building stretching at least twenty floors toward the sky.

  “Wow, that’s where you’re staying?”

  “Yeah. Don’t slow down now, we’re almost there,” Nick snapped.

  Aaron looked over at her, but she just shrugged and continued walking.

  They entered through clear glass doors into a clean lobby with a black-and-white tiled floor and a spiral staircase in one corner. Nick looked over to a desk at the right, but no one waited there, and for the first time he seemed to relax. Nonetheless, he rushed his friends through the lobby and into an elevator. Lareina had never been in an elevator before, and although she preferred the stairs to the tiny room that felt like a trap, she knew that wouldn’t be an option for Aaron. The ride seemed endless, and she hated the feeling of her stomach sinking through her body. She held tight to a rail along the wall and focused on glowing numbers above the door as they clicked up to eight.

  Finally, the elevator dinged and the front wall opened to a long hallway of white doors. Nick directed them halfway down the hall, then pulled out a key and pushed his white door into room 814. On the way in, he flipped on a light switch illuminating the most beautiful room she had ever seen. Two beds covered with pillows and fluffy gray comforters lined one wall. A long wooden dresser and a glass door leading out to the balcony occupied the other two walls. To the right of the main door, she noticed another door that she guessed led to a bathroom. The soft tan carpet beneath her feet and gentle gray tones of the room’s color scheme relaxed her pulse to a normal rate. She dropped her backpack on the dresser and helped Nick settle Aaron on one of the beds.

  “There’s a twenty-four-hour cafe downstairs. I’ll get us somethin
g to eat,” Nick offered. He picked up his key off the dresser and disappeared through the door.

  Lareina situated herself on the bed next to Aaron, being careful not to disturb his injured leg. A clock, hanging near the door, ticked loudly.

  Closing her eyes, she rested her forehead against the palm of her hand. “This place is pretty nice, huh?”

  “It’s too nice.” Aaron glanced around the room as if searching for something he’d lost. “How can Nick afford this place?”

  That same question bounced around in her mind, but she ignored it in her relief to see Nick and a chance to get Aaron to real shelter. The details of the last week swirled and blended into an indecipherable smudge in her memory. She no longer cared how or why, but Aaron didn’t relax, his dirt-smudged face still concerned. Dried blood still smeared his shirt from the night he wounded his leg.

  “I put the gun in his bag. He told me he sold it. Maybe he’s better at haggling than I am.”

  Aaron nodded, but the crease of worry in his forehead remained.

  “I’ll be back in a second,” she told him and walked into the bathroom. Letting a stream of warm water cascade from the faucet, she washed her hands and face, looking away so she wouldn’t see red-tinged streams slide down the drain. On the counter she found a washcloth and held it under the warm water until it soaked through. Pushing Aaron’s questions out of her mind, she returned to the main room. Carefully she washed Aaron’s face, hands, and arms, then helped him into a clean shirt. The bandages on his leg would have to be changed, but she decided Nick would be far more qualified for that task. While they waited for Nick, she fluffed the pillows behind Aaron and pulled a blanket over him.

  “Now get some rest.” She brushed her hand over his forehead then took a step away.

  The horror of everything she’d witnessed that day returned as the feeling of boulders on her chest and oxygen that never quite seemed to reach her lungs. Not wanting to alarm Aaron, she stepped out onto the balcony, leaned her elbows against the rail, and buried her face in her hands. She closed her eyes and tried to focus all of her attention on breathing, but her mind wouldn’t shut off so easily.