Truancy

by Isamu Fukui

  The elevator took a few seconds to sink to the first floor, where it opened its doors, and Tack and Noni stepped out to find the lobby in chaos. Bellhops, janitors, managers, maids, and hotel guests all ran about screaming and crying while Enforcers did their best to sort through the commotion. Tack and Noni slipped into the frantic crowd, and slinked over to the door. As they did, Tack noticed that Noni had lifted her scarf back up onto her face.

  Enforcers shoved past them without giving them a second thought, and they made it outside safely, where they vanished into the stream of fleeing people, running right past arriving Enforcer patrol cars. Sometimes it was good, Tack realized as they walked calmly over to the nearest subway, that people didn’t take children very seriously.

  * * *

  “So, bad news and good news?” the Mayor said, snapping his lighter shut as his cabinet sat nervously at the conference table. “That’s a first. Give me the bad news; we’ve had so much of it around here that I think I’ve become numb to it.”

  The cabinet members looked at each other apprehensively.

  “Well, sir, the school budget committee meeting was … interrupted,” one cabinet member worded carefully.

  “‘Interrupted’? Where do you come up with these euphemisms?” the Mayor said incredulously. “How many were killed?”

  “Erm … five Educators dead, nine badly wounded,” the cabinet member said tentatively. “An Enforcer was also killed; he tried to rush to the rescue.”

  “Any idea how the Truancy pulled this one off?” the Mayor demanded impatiently.

  “They dropped a crude explosive through a skylight and picked off survivors through a smoke cloud,” another cabinet member summarized quickly.

  “And then they marched right out, did they?” the Mayor demanded.

  “They did kill another guard during their escape,” the cabinet member added helpfully.

  “Great. I’m glad that all the extra security is worth something.” The Mayor sighed tiredly. “Give me the good news, and quickly.”

  One of the cabinet members drew some papers out of a folder and flipped through them.

  “‘On a routine foot patrol through District 13 at five twenty-seven P.M. this evening, two Enforcer officers spotted a number of Truants entering and exiting an abandoned movie theater,’” the cabinet member read out loud. “‘At least a dozen separate individuals were counted, and more are suspected to have holed up there. Under the circumstances, the patrol thought it best to report it directly to the nearest precinct and retreat.’”

  “This is their main hideout?” the Mayor said, flipping his lighter open with unconcealed excitement in his voice.

  “That’s a possibility.” The cabinet member nodded, flipping through the pages. “But it’s just as likely that this is a cell or an outpost operating on its own. Either way, this is the first time we’ve been able to reliably locate a Truant shelter without being detected.”

  “Without being detected?” the Mayor repeated. “The Enforcers got away without being seen?”

  “The officers believe so, yes.” The cabinet member nodded, looking immensely relieved at the Mayor’s reception of the news.

  “It’s about time that they did something right.” The Mayor clicked his lighter shut. “Prepare a full assault immediately; give the Enforcers the authorization for anything they need. Move in on them at first light. I want these Truants dead or captured before they wake up tomorrow.”

  “It will be done,” a cabinet member assured.

  “Good,” the Mayor said enthusiastically. “This may be the chance we’ve been waiting for. If this movie theater is the center of their operations, they’ll be finished. If not, we’ll still have paid them back for their actions at the budget meeting. Speaking of which”—the Mayor now turned to look grimly at his cabinet—“we need to discuss some of the so-called security measures you’ve put in place.”

  * * *

  “Do you have a body count for me?” Zyid asked curtly.

  “No, sir,” Tack and Noni said in unison.

  “Very well,” Zyid said. “I wouldn’t have expected one under the circumstances, and you did accomplish the objective. Overall, a job well done.”

  Tack fidgeted uncomfortably. He still hadn’t gotten used to Zyid complimenting him on how good his performance in killing was. Noni, however, looked pleased; her blue eyes sparkled as she stood at attention in the middle of the abandoned flower shop.

  “By the way, I’d recommend that you two get some sleep now,” Zyid suggested, turning around to face them. “You won’t be getting much tomorrow.”

  “What do you mean, sir?” Tack asked softly, betraying none of the apprehension he felt boiling in his stomach.

  “One of our cells contacted me earlier this evening,” Zyid explained. “They believe that an Enforcer patrol spotted them.” He raised his chin, surveying Tack and Noni imperiously. “I have ordered them to stand their ground.”

  Tack started, and quickly looked sideways at Noni, whose eyes had also widened.

  “The Enforcers believed that they went unnoticed,” Zyid continued, ignoring the looks on Tack’s and Noni’s faces. “They will wait to attack only when they are ready. In the meantime, I have directed several parties to reinforce their position, and additional reinforcements will be setting out tonight at midnight.”

  “But why?” Tack blurted, unable to stop himself.

  “Because we now have the resources to make a stand,” Zyid explained. “The Enforcers have constantly hunted us, never believing for a second that we could or would risk a full-scale battle. But this City cannot be won without them, and tomorrow will see the first one of this war.”

  “But we can’t win a fight like that!” Tack protested suddenly, and out of the corner of his eye he noticed Noni jerk her head towards him in surprise.

  Zyid raised an eyebrow.

  “It is true that the Educators have greater numbers and resources,” Zyid conceded. “It is probable that we will lose. It is even likely that many Truants will die, when their lives might otherwise have been spared.”

  “Then why?” Tack demanded, causing Noni to let out a small gasp.

  “Because they are willing to lay down their lives for this!” Zyid hissed, his voice suddenly harsh enough to make Tack recoil. “Because they will make the Educators fear them before they die, instead of living the other way around! And because it is my decision to make, and their deaths will be on my hands, not yours, Takan!”

  Zyid’s dark eyes flashed menacingly, his teeth bared like some enraged beast. Tack didn’t think he’d ever seen a more frightening expression, and he reflexively stepped backwards. A moment later, Zyid’s sudden anger faded, and the Truancy leader relaxed back into his emotionless shell.

  “The Educators will learn to take us seriously,” Zyid said calmly. “Tomorrow will be decisive for us—win or lose. You two are dismissed. Be back here by midnight.”

  “Yes, sir,” Noni said immediately, bowing her head.

  “Yes, sir,” Tack said.

  Zyid turned away from them again and gave no sign of further acknowledging their presence. Tack turned and headed for the door, Noni following closely. As they stepped outside onto the street, the sun was setting far on the western horizon, allowing darkness to blanket the City once more. Tack took a deep breath of night air, then turned to look at Noni, only to find that she was already gazing at him. For a moment their eyes met, and then Noni turned and darted away into the growing darkness.

  Tack watched her go, then contemplated going next door to the Truancy hideout to take a nap. Then he shook his head and began determinedly heading down the street, towards The Bar. The Bar was an establishment located a few blocks from the Truant hideout, where a number of Truants had restocked and repopulated an abandoned bar where they sold stolen alcoholic beverages cheap. The Bar was the only place Truants were able to get alcohol ever since the bulk of the Truancy had come under the direct supervision of Zyid.

&
nbsp; The Bar wasn’t approved of by Zyid, and no one was really sure that he even knew about it, though rumor had it that he did know but tolerated its presence anyway, accepting that sometimes Truants saw and did things that made alcohol necessary. Tack, for his part, always made a point of drinking after each kill to make sure that his memories wouldn’t cause him too many problems. Lately his thoughts hadn’t been filled with only images of Suzie, but also with flashes of bodies impaled upon a sword, blood streaming from gunshot wounds as a man’s pale hands clutched desperately at his chest, a man bound to a table, screaming as drops of water fell upon his brow. They were victims, all of them.

  His victims.

  Tack shook the twinges of guilt from his head and resolutely pushed his way into The Bar, making his way towards an unoccupied stool. A number of Truants were there already, some of them slumped in corners, snoring loudly, as others slopped cheap beer down their chins or else engaged in raucous conversation with their companions.

  Tack sat down on the stool and waved towards the bartender on duty.

  “Beer, any kind,” Tack said, pushing a wrinkled bill across the counter.

  The bartender nodded and bent down behind the counter, rising up to push a warm bottle over to Tack. Ignoring the temperature, Tack twisted the cap off and took a gulp, enjoying the sensation as the beverage ran down his throat. He was about to take another gulp when a voice called out to him.

  “Takan! Hey, Takan!”

  Tack turned to see Steve pushing his way through a group of Truants. Tack quickly scoured his memory; the last time he could remember seeing Steve was the day that they had fled the old hideout with Gabriel.

  “Hey, Steve, what’s up?” Tack asked with great effort, finding it difficult to talk normally after spending much time in Zyid’s presence.

  “Did you hear about tomorrow?” Steve asked excitedly.

  “You mean, the battle?” Tack asked.

  “That’s the one!” Steve said enthusiastically. “Finally we get to show those Educators what we’re made of. I’m set to leave with the midnight group!”

  “Really?” Tack frowned. “So am I. Zyid just told me about it.”

  “That’s great; I guess we’ll be fighting side by side then,” Steve said, rubbing his hands eagerly.

  “Aren’t you worried at all?” Tack asked, baffled at how ready Steve was to throw himself into terrible harm’s way.

  “You mean, about dying?” Steve laughed lightly. “Takan, if I were worried about that, I would never have joined the Truancy. There’s not much else for me to live for, and if I die, I’ll do it giving the Educators a piece of my mind.”

  It was in that moment, talking with Steve, that Tack realized that Zyid was right after all. Everything that had been said in that moment of anger had been true. Tack took another swig of beer as he continued his conversation with Steve. As he drank his troubles away, chatting amiably, waiting for midnight to come, Tack suddenly wondered what sort of City it was, where a boy like Zyid could command such power and be so right … and yet so wrong.

  * * *

  Edward walked casually through the Grand Park, enjoying the luminous effect that the pale glow of the street lamps had on his dark surroundings as he traveled the paved paths. It was nighttime now, and he had sneaked out of the boring orphanage to be here. The orphanage was in District 18, where Edward had lived and attended school for as long as he could remember. It wasn’t too far from the Grand Park of District 20, but it was still a lengthy trek, and he normally wouldn’t have risked it—the orphanage staff was often more strict than the teachers at school.

  However, tonight he was here with a purpose. He would take the first, small step towards realizing the dreams that he had cultivated for years—dreams of attaining power and vindication that others dreamed of but none ever achieved. He dreamed of having power over all those that had ever pushed him around or slighted him. Students, Enforcers, Educators, they would all answer to him before the end. None would escape his vengeance.

  And there was one he would save for the end, Edward reminded himself as he inhaled deeply, savoring the rare smell of recently mowed grass. Umasi. Edward shivered slightly at the very thought of the boy. He had once tried to kill Umasi, only to be humiliated at his hands. Edward now knew better than to attempt another personal confrontation with his former mentor, at least until all the rest of the City was under his control. Only then would Edward have his final revenge.

  Edward had dreams.

  He also had memories.

  And some of them were buried in this park.

  Edward was whistling as he finally reached his destination—the great lawn of the Grand Park. The lawn had several trees placed intermittently throughout the vast green expanses of grass, but one stood out to Edward. It wasn’t the largest, nor was it the most prominent, but rather the thinnest and lankiest of them all. Beneath it, Edward knew, was a personal treasure that he had buried two years ago.

  Whipping out a small hand shovel, Edward set to work on the soil beneath the tree. It didn’t take him long to expose an object wrapped in a plain white towel. Edward swiftly unwrapped the towel, seized the object within it, and turned it about in his hands nostalgically.

  It was the sunglasses, the very pair that he had stolen from Umasi on that day when he had tasted defeat. It was a symbolic relic for Edward, evidence that he been in Umasi’s lair, stolen something precious of his, and come out unscathed.

  Edward grinned as he slipped the sunglasses into his pocket, feeling an intense excitement rise within him. His patience had paid off. His time was fast approaching. He could finally cease his dull act, and he would be free from his life entombed at the orphanage. He would help the desperate Educators and the Enforcers destroy the Truancy.

  And then he would dominate them all.

  “Umasi.” Edward laughed darkly as he stood alone in the park. “You’ll regret not killing me when you had the chance!”

  18

  THE HEAT OF BATTLE

  “They will undoubtedly try to surround us,” Zyid warned, crouching down over a map. “Accordingly, there are mines set here, here, and here, to cover our back.” Zyid pointed at groups of dots etched on the map. “Snipers and RPGs have been positioned on the rooftops to the front. The RPGs have been instructed to save their ammunition for helicopters. As for ground assaults, the Enforcers have only two separate streets from which they can attack us head-on. We’ve formed wooden barricades on the western flank that will be burned if we retreat, and we’ve blown parts off of the buildings to the eastern side to form cover.”

  Tack and the eleven other Truants crowded around Zyid nodded. They were inside the entrance hallway of the movie theater, running over the plans one last time before they headed out to join the Truants already out there. Tack had indeed caught some sleep the previous evening, falling asleep at The Bar, where he had lain sprawled over the counter until Steve shook him awake.

  “The bulk of our forces,” Zyid continued, “are positioned behind the masonry or the barricades. We have two parties covering our flank as well, in the unlikely case that they break through the minefield. Explosive barrels have been strategically placed all around to slow oncoming attackers. As a last-ditch resort, we’ve laid smoke bombs at the ends of the eastern and western streets which retreating forces will set off before falling back.”

  Zyid pointed at two squares imprinted on the map.

  “In the case that they should reach the theater, we’ll barricade the front doors and hold them off while we retreat through the back. There are a number of alleyways and abandoned buildings to flee to or hide in if we are routed. Also, as you can see”—Zyid now gestured towards the doors of the movie theater where two large cylindrical objects lay—“we have placed pipe bombs at the entrance, which should buy us more time.”

  Zyid stood up now, looking around at the apprehensive-but-determined Truants.

  “As you know, a party consists of five people,” Zyid said. “Each of yo
u has been assigned to a party, and each of you has an officer to follow, with the exceptions of Noni and Takan. I would like them to stay for a moment”—Zyid looked at Noni and Tack in turn—“and everyone else to please head out to your assigned barricades.”

  There was a scramble as the Truants all filed out of the front doors, taking care not to tread on the pipe bombs as they went. Noni and Tack stood stiffly before Zyid, who waited for the last of the other Truants to leave and shut the doors behind him.

  “Takan, you will be overseeing the eastern side,” Zyid said. “Noni, you will be overseeing the western barricades. I myself will be traveling to whichever point needs me the most. If either of you is beaten back, it will be up to you to detonate the smoke bomb. This will serve as a signal to the other side and will also give you cover as you retreat. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” Noni and Tack said simultaneously.

  “Good.” Zyid picked up a shotgun from the ground and slung it over his shoulder, drawing his ceramic sword at the same time. “We’ve been lucky that they haven’t attacked yet, but that won’t last long. I think they expect to catch us asleep.” Zyid let out a cold chuckle. “Let’s disappoint them.”

  Zyid strode out the front doors of the theater, past the box office, and out into the dark streets. The sky was beginning to turn from black to deep blue, with the first traces of sunlight peeping over the eastern horizon. Noni sprinted off to the left with Zyid following leisurely. Tack steeled himself, shook off any weariness that clung to his body, and then darted to his right. He ran past a cluster of three explosive barrels, and up the street until it forced him to round a corner.

  Tack boggled at what he saw; huge chunks of brick and masonry lay strewn all over the street, and behind each of them groups of five Truants crouched grimly, armed with guns. Barrels had been placed to the sides of the street, protecting the Truants’ flanks. Above, on the rooftops, the dark silhouettes of still more Truants milled about restlessly. And only a few yards away from him, guarded by two Truants, rested a large, white cube that Tack instantly recognized as a smoke bomb. It was, perhaps, the most elaborate setup that Tack had ever seen.