That must be the prisoner that Jonas Sabine risked his life for. Wonder why Sabine cared so much? They thought dully Probably none of his questions would ever be answered. He’d die still wondering why everything had happened, what any of his bravery had been worth.
Nedley put the truck in park and sprang out of the driver’s seat.
“Don’t just stand there — help me load,” he hissed at Trey.
Trey glanced from Nedley to the warden, rushing toward him. He didn’t really make a choice. He still had no hope of escape, but why confront his doom any sooner than he had to?
Trey crammed the fax into his pocket Then, with Nedley’s help, he hoisted Nina, Lee, Joel, John, and the chauffeur onto the truck. Out of the corner of his eye, Trey could see the warden, huffing furiously, and two guards marching up behind him.
Of course. The warden wouldn’t do anything as undignified as grabbing Trey himself. He’d have someone else do the dirty work for him.
“You climb in too,” Nedley whispered to Trey
“Huh?” They said.
In answer, Nedley shoved Trey, knocking him forward into the open truck bed. Nedley half-fell, half-climbed in on top of him.
“Stop! Wait! My hand’s caught in the chain!” Nedley called out loudly.
As if that were a cue, the truck suddenly jerked forward. Frantically, They clutched at the chains to keep from falling out the back. Nedley yanked up on the liftgate, trapping them all in the truck bed. The truck surged on, gathering speed.
“Help! The prisoner — we’re being kidnapped! Wait! Don’t shoot — I’ll get him!” Nedley stood up in the truck bed and began weaving toward the front of the truck, stepping over Lee and Nina and the others.
Trey wasn’t sure what was happening — whose side was Nedley on? Just in case, Trey tackled him, kicked him away to the side, then dived through the open window into the cab of the truck.
Mark was in the driver’s seat now, looking grim. His broken leg was covered with white plaster, from his knee down to his foot. He had the bottom of his cast jammed against the gas pedal.
“What are you doing?” They screamed at Mark. “Didn’t you see those trucks back there? They’ll catch us in nothing flat!”
“No they won’t,” Mark said, glancing over his shoulder anyhow. “We slashed all their tires.”
“You did?” Trey marveled.
Mark weaved around a guard running toward them waving a gun.
“Pretend to hit me,” Mark said. “Then lean down and push on the gas pedal as hard as you can. My leg's killing me.”
Trey swung broadly at Mark, slipped down, and reached over Mark’s cast for the pedal.
“Faster? Slower?” he called up to Mark.
“Faster. Always faster,” Mark muttered.
Trey pushed even harder, straining the muscles in his arms. It was terrifying not to know what they were speeding toward. He remembered the high fences, the razor wire everywhere.
“The gates!” he screamed at Mark. “The guard! How are we going to get past—”
“The gates are still open for the other truck, the one from Slahood,” Mark muttered. “And the guard—”
Trey heard a pinging sound off to the side.
“Well, he missed,” Mark said matter-of-factly “He just wasn’t a very good aim.”
Trey pushed even harder on the accelerator. Mark was swerving now, turning the steering wheel in wide arcs above Trey’s head. Trey could still hear gunfire.
“I thought we were past the gates!” he yelled. “Who’s shooting at us now?”
“Remember that truck from Slahood?” Mark asked, turning the wheel even more widely.
They heard more shots. They sounded closer than ever. But Mark just started laughing.
“What’s happening?” Trey screamed. He hated not knowing, not being able to see. If I get out of this alive, Trey vowed, I’m never hiding again.
“All right!” Mark called out joyously “That Nedley— what a guy!”.
“WHAT IS GOING ON?” Trey screamed. “WHAT DID NEDLEY DO?”
“He shot out all the tires on the other truck,” Mark said. “They just stopped. They’ve lost us now. Oh, man — we are home free!”
Chapter Thirty-Two
They weren’t, of course. They were still miles from anyone’s home. They were fugitives now, likely to be shot on sight. And Trey still didn’t know why Nedley was helping them, who the mysterious prisoner was, or why the chauffeur had ended up in the back of their truck
Still, after about fifteen minutes, they felt safe enough to pull over by the side of the road and let Trey take over all the driving responsibilities. (Trey was so happy to finally be able to see out that he didn’t mind the bright sun in the least) Another fifteen minutes later, Trey steered the truck into a small copse of trees, totally hidden from the road. He and Nedley went back and brushed the gravel back into a normal formation, erasing all signs of their tracks.
“Why?” Trey asked. “Why did you help me and Mark?”
"Liber," Nedley breathed.
“Oo-oh,” Trey said slowly. "Then there were more in the liber club than just two.”
“There were dozens of us,” Nedley said.
“That’s great. I mean—” Trey was trying to grasp it.
“Most of us are dead now,” Nedley said. “But at least you and Mark and I have saved our leader.”
“Who?” Trey said.
“The extra prisoner in the back of the truck,” Nedley said. "Don’t you know who that is?”
Trey shook his head. Everything had happened too fast; it wasn’t like there’d been time for introductions.
“Whoever it is, are you sure he’s still alive?” Trey asked.
“Let’s go see,” Nedley said grimly.
They trudged back to the truck. Lee and the others were just beginning to sit up, to cautiously peer over the edge of the truck bed.
“Trey?” Lee gasped, his voice cracking in astonishment.
“At your service,” They said.
“You're wearing a Population Police uniform,” Lee said.
“I told you you wouldn’t believe what we had to go through to rescue you,” Mark said peevishly from the front of the truck.
“But you look so. . real,” Lee said.
Trey nodded silently He saw fear in Nina’s eyes, in Joel’s and John’s. Their gaze flickered from They to Nedley in terror. For the first time, They felt the full weight of the uniform he was wearing.
"Aw, Luke,” Mark said. “That’s no way to thank somebody who just rescued you from jail.”
Lee’s gaze steadied.
“I owe you,” he said quietly
‘And I owe you,” Trey said. He hoped there’d be time later to explain what he meant, how grateful he was to Lee for teaching him how to run, how to tackle — how to do something besides hide.
How to be brave.
“I think Mr. Talbot needs a doctor,” Nina announced.
Trey stared — the extra prisoner in the truck was, indeed, Mr. Talbot. Trey hadn’t recognized him before because he was so battered. Both his eyes were swollen shut and surrounded by huge purple bruises, his lip was split in several places, his breathing was shallow and raspy.
But suddenly it all made sense. Mr. Talbot had been a double agent within the Population Police. So had the Jiber group. Of course they were connected. Of course Mr. Talbot had been the liber leader. Jonathan Sabine must have been trying to mount a rescue mission for his leader that day back at the Talbots and he’d mistaken They for another member of the group. That mistake had saved Trey’s life.
But someone inside the liber group must have betrayed Mr. Talbot, the Sabines, and all the others who were dead now.
Nina was feeling for Mr. Talbot’s pulse.
“I don’t know — shouldn’t his heartbeat be stronger than this?” she asked.
“Average resting adult heart rate is fifty to a hundred beats per minute,” Trey said. “But an elite athlete
in really good shape could have a rate as low as twenty-eight to forty”.
Lee and Nina started laughing. They stood stunned for a minute, then realized it was hilarious he’d been able to spit that out, on cue, in the midst of everything else that was going on.
Thanks, Dad, he thought. You really did teach me some useful information.
Then they were all serious again. Nedley scrambled up onto the truck and felt Mr. Talbot’s other wrist.
“He’s not an elite athlete,” Nedley said. “I don’t think this is a good pulse.”
“What are we supposed to do?” Nina asked.
“I know a place we can go,” Nedley said. ‘A place where someone can take care of him. And where the rest of us will be safe. As safe as possible, anyway”
“But can we get there without being caught?” Trey asked. “And can we trust… everybody?” He couldn’t help glaring right at the chauffeur, who had driven off and abandoned Trey back at the Talbots’ house.
Nina seemed to understand what he meant.
“They, we didn’t want to leave you behind,” Nina said gently “I–I’m so sorry I pushed you out of the car. We got scared when we saw Mr. Talbot taken away, but we were going to come back for you as soon as it was safe— we were watching through the trees. But when we saw the Population Police officer find you on the porch… How is it that you weren’t killed?”
Trey tried to understand how it must have looked to them.
“The officer who found me was working with the resistance group,” Trey said. “Just like Mr. Talbot. Just like Nedley here.”
“And me,” the chauffeur said. “I too had been fighting behind the scenes. Mr. Talbot had sent me to the Grants’ house to keep an eye on all of you. I don’t believe I did my job very well.”
“It wasn’t your fault that Mr. Talbot was captured,” Nina said soothingly “It wasn’t your fault the Population Police took over the Grants’ house.”
Trey tried to understand.
“So you were working for Mr. Talbot,” he said to the chauffeur. “Why didn’t you tell us that after Mr. and Mrs. Grant died?”
“Would you have believed me?” the chauffeur asked.
Trey doubted that he would have. He’d felt so confused then. Everything had been in turmoil.
“I thought I could just take you to Mr. Talbot and everything would be all right,” the chauffeur said.
The chauffeur was an adult, but Trey realized that he’d been every bit as stunned as Trey was to see the Population Police officials swarming over the Talbots’ property He’d felt every bit as helpless. And, like Trey he’d made a few wrong choices along the way
“We thought it was lucky that the chauffeur had seen where Lee’s family lived. We thought we were saving Lee. But when we got back to the Grants’ house, the Population Police were there too,” Nina said. “We were arrested for breaking and entering, just for driving through the front gates. We didn’t know..
“We didn’t know anything,” Lee said.
“We still don’t,” Joel muttered.
Trey had almost forgotten that the younger boy was there.
“All right, all right, enough with the rehashing,” Nedley said. “We need to go to our safe place now. I know a back way. How about if I drive?”
Trey settled into the back of the truck with his friends, and Nedley slipped behind the wheel. He drove down a rutted path Trey never would have noticed.
Trey leaned over and whispered in Lee’s ear: “What if Nedley can’t be trusted? What if he’s taking us into greater danger, instead of to safety?”
Lee just shrugged. There really wasn’t anything they could do, not with Mark’s leg broken and Mr. Talbot unconscious. And, for that matter, Lee and Nina and Joel and John and the chauffeur all looked pale and shrunken, as if they couldn’t have jumped from the truck if their lives depended on it.
“Did they feed you in prison?” Trey asked.
Lee shook his head.
“Not much,” he said. “Gruel once or twice. Maybe every third day”.
They’d gone almost a week with barely any food at all— no wonder they just sat and stared blankly, as if they didn’t have enough energy to register the sight of the trees zipping past them, the branches whipping around the truck.
Trey tensed his muscles and stared ahead, ready to defend them all if need be.
But when they emerged from the trees, Trey relaxed immediately.
A large, windowless building stood directly ahead of them, like a welcoming fortress. It was one of only two places Trey had ever felt at home.
They were back at Hendricks School.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Nedley parked the truck in front of Mr. Hendricks’s cottage. Mr. Hendricks rolled out in his wheelchair immediately His eyes were focused on the Population Police insignia on Nedley’s black shirt.
“I told you before!” he shouted. “You’ve already taken all my able-bodied workers. I have nothing more to—” He broke off, his glance finally taking in the rest of the truckload of people. Relief and joy played over his expression, but then he seemed to rein in his emotions, and he just stared in silence.
Of course. He didn’t know what was going on or what he could safely say
“Relax, old man,” Nedley said. “I’m bringing people back to you. And everyone here can be trusted.”
Then Mr. Hendricks rolled joyously forward, calling out, “Lee! Nina! Joel! John! I thought I’d never see any of you again. And—” He was looking around, looking worried. His gaze finally settled on Trey “Trey?” he asked hesitantly “In uniform?”
“It’s a long story,” Trey said.
“I have George, too,” Nedley said. “But he’s not in very good shape. Is your nurse still here?”
Mr. Hendricks didn’t answer, just turned his head and yelled back toward the house, “Theodora! It’s George!”
A woman came running out of the house — a woman with bright red hair streaming out behind her. Mrs. Talbot.
She was peering toward the cab of the truck, as if she expected Mr. Talbot to be in the driver’s seat, in control. She didn’t gaze into the truck bed until she’d looked everyone else in the face. She did a double take when she got to Trey
“You!” she said. “You said you’d help me. And I–I didn’t believe you…
She was crying even before she reached down and cupped Mr. Talbot’s battered face in her hands. He moaned softly in his sleep.
“Somebody help me get him into the house,” she commanded. “He’ll need fluids, and I want to make sure there are no internal injuries.”
They stared at her, amazed at the transformation.
“In addition to being a giant pain in everyone’s neck,” Mr. Hendricks chuckled, “Theodora is a very talented doctor.”
“You’ll need to look at my brother’s leg, too,” Lee said.
‘And his burns,” Trey said.
“I’m fine,” Mark growled.
In the end, Trey Nedley and Mrs. Talbot worked together to carry Mr. Talbot into the house. All the others limped and hobbled in on their own. Mr. Hendricks bustled around serving vegetable broth and toast
“You’re sure nobody followed you? You couldn’t be tracked here?” he muttered under his breath to Nedley.
“I don’t think so,” Nedley muttered back “But who’s sure of anything right now?”
Trey wasn’t as hungry as the others, but when he sat down on one of Mr. Hendricks’s couches, he found himself dozing off, then jerking awake as soon as the nightmares started.
“When was the last time you got any sleep, young man?” Mrs. Talbot asked.
“Sleep?” Trey said as if it was a foreign word he’d never heard before. “Um, the night before last, I guess.” He’d slept on the floor of the barn, back at Mark’s family’s farm. It seemed several lifetimes ago.
“Go in the back bedroom then, and lie down,” Mrs. Talbot said.
“But—” Trey wasn’t sure he could trust
himself to sleep ever again.
“Doctor’s orders,” Mrs. Talbot said. “You’re safe now. You’ll be hallucinating soon if you don’t get some good sleep. And change out of that horrible uniform — it’s giving me the creeps!”
Trey obeyed all of her commands, because it was easier than resisting. He lay on the bed, but every time he closed his eyes he saw a different horror: The Nezeree warden looming over him, yelling, “Give me my fax!” The mob swarming around him screaming, “Food! Food! Give us food!” The Population Police official back at the Grants’ house, demanding, “Give me your I.D. card.”
I don’t have an identity card anymore, Trey thought The Nezeree warden surely knows now that I’m an enemy. How much longer before we’re caught?
Mrs. Talbot knocked on his door and came into the room holding up a white tablet and a glass of water.
“Sleeping pill,” she said. “You probably need it.”
“Is Mr. Talbot okay?” Trey asked.
“I’m hoping he will be,” she said. “Thanks to you. I–I’m stunned. I didn’t think anyone could save him.”
Trey swallowed the pill.
“I didn’t either,” he admitted.
And then he slipped into the deepest sleep of his life, one without dreams of any kind.
When he woke up it was dark outside, and the house was quiet. And Trey was starving. He found an ordinary shirt and pants waiting at the foot of his bed, and he put them on. Then he crept out of his room and down the hall.
All his friends were clustered around the fireplace in the living room.
“I told him to go on without me, but Trey said, ‘No!’” Mark was saying. ‘And before I could say anything else, he jumped out into the crowd and shouted, ‘Gimme! Gimme! Hey wait, some of the food rolled under the truck!’ He tricked the crowd into moving the truck back on its wheels. And then, cool as a cucumber, he tricked them into running away from the truck, then picked me up, just like Superman, and—”
“You’re making it sound easy” Trey objected. “You aren’t telling how scared I was.”
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