Dark Parties

by Sara Grant

  I’m startled by two quiet taps on the bathroom door. “Neva, are you okay in there?” my mom asks.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I call. But my stomach is rolling.

  “Neva, we need to talk.”

  I search the bathroom for any stray fragments of paper. I glance at myself in the mirror before I go. I check to make sure there are no words stuck to my teeth. How would I ever explain that?

  I open the door. Her cheeks are wet with fresh tears. “You need to leave.” She grabs me by the arm and practically drags me to my bedroom.

  “Mom, you’re hurting me.” I wrench my arm free.

  She’s got a duffel bag. She’s stuffing my underwear and a pair of jeans in it. “You’ll need a coat.” She rifles though my closet.

  “Mom,” I say, but she doesn’t hear me. She’s too busy ripping shirts off hangers and jamming them in the bag. “Mom!” I shout, and snatch the bag out of her hands. “What are you doing?”

  “You’ve got to go. They’ve taken Sanna and they are preparing to round up anyone they suspect might have been at the demonstration.”

  “What?”

  “You’ve got to get out of here.” Her eyes are wild. “Do you have somewhere you can go?”

  There’s only one person who might help me. Braydon. I nod.

  “Good. Okay.” She hands me a tiny scrap of paper. She closes her hand around mine. “This is contact information for someone called Senga. Find her tomorrow and she’ll help you get out of the City.”

  “How do you know Senga?” I ask, opening my hand and reading the address on the paper.

  “Don’t ask, just do it. Pack a few things and I will take you wherever you want to go. I’ll make sure we’re not followed.” Her voice is calmer, almost cold. “There’s not much time. We need to leave before your father gets home. He can’t know I had anything to do with this. He can’t know where you’re going.”

  I’m starting to see my mom in a whole new light. It’s as if she’s removed her mask or maybe it’s that I’m seeing everything clearly now. I let the duffel bag fall to the floor. “Come with me.”

  “I can’t. We are getting a baby. If I left, they would come after me. But you. You could disappear. Go up North somewhere at least for a little while.” She lifts my chin. “We’ve got to be strong.”

  If she can, I can. But I’m not going to run away. Not in the way my mom thinks. I’ve got to find Sanna and make sure she’s safe.

  By the time I get into the car, my life fits into a duffel bag. I’ve got the clothes on my back and the worn shoes on my feet. I rub the snowflake necklace between my fingers. When Mom pulls up in front of Braydon’s house, we cling to each other as if we may never see each other again—and we may not.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-FOUR

  The crusty cream paint flecks away as I beat my fists on the door. No one comes. Maybe he’s gone too. I pound harder. Slivers of paint and wood prick my skin. The door opens slowly.

  “Neva? What are you doing here?” Braydon asks. He’s wearing a pair of faded blue plaid pajama bottoms.

  “They took Sanna.”

  “What? When?” His face creases with worry.

  “There was a demonstration today—”

  He doesn’t let me finish. “No, Sanna wasn’t there. She said she had to—”

  “She didn’t tell you, did she?” I interrupt. “She knew you’d be against it, but the police… she’s… and now, I think they are coming after me.”

  “Let’s get you inside,” he says, wrapping a strong arm around my shoulders. He takes my duffel bag.

  I’m exhausted in a way I’ve never felt before. My body feels heavy, but my head is floating above me. “Sanna. We’ve got to rescue her.”

  “We will,” he says in such a calm, reassuring way that I believe him. We are different people than we were a few days ago, but that electricity still fizzes between us. It’s painful and sweet all at the same time. It doesn’t feel right to be with him when Sanna is locked away somewhere. But at the same time, I feel as if I’m exactly where I belong. There’s a pressure building between us.

  He leads me up the stairs. When we reach his bedroom, I notice his bare feet. For some reason seeing him without his boots makes me almost giddy.

  “I thought you slept in your red boots.”

  He laughs, which breaks the tension, and I laugh with relief. I don’t know what’s so funny, but I can’t stop. My stomach aches. We tumble onto his bed laughing, his arm still around me. Our laughter subsides into a whimper.

  “I’m really sorry about what’s happened, but I’m glad you’re here,” he says.

  “Thanks for letting me stay. I’ll be gone tomorrow.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve got to find Sanna.” I want to tell him about the message from my grandma, but I guess there’s still a part of me that doesn’t trust him. I’m not sure I can leave anyway. I can’t decide until Sanna’s safe.

  “How can we find out where she is?”

  “I think I know someone who can help.” I don’t tell him about Senga either. I decide to keep my secrets for now.

  I finally work up the courage to ask, “What happened between you and Sanna after she caught us?” Funny that I can’t say the word kissing. It hurts to remember last night. It feels a lifetime ago.

  He moves away from me. “She was crying and begging me not to go. I couldn’t leave her like that.”

  I told him to go to her, but I feel a pinprick of jealousy at the thought of them alone together. I hate myself for it. “I can’t believe her guardians let you stay.”

  “They didn’t know or didn’t care.”

  “I wonder if her brother knows she’s been arrested.”

  “Sanna found out this morning from some underground contact that her brother has been sent to a Community Farm again.” He glances at me. “For a year, maybe longer.”

  I sit up. “Now no one will care if she’s gone. We have to find her.” I’m all she’s got.

  There’s something about the way that he narrows his eyes and sets his jaw that I know he’s thinking.

  “Braydon.” I poke him in the side to get his attention. He looks at me as if he’s forgotten I am here.

  “Neva, Sanna was so angry with you last night.” He looks out the window into the darkness. “Even if we can find her, I’m not sure she’ll want to talk to you.”

  “She doesn’t have to talk to me. She doesn’t have to like me.” I walk to the window. I need distance from him. “Even after everything, she’d risk her life to save me. I know she would.”

  He walks up behind me. “Let’s get some sleep. We’ll figure this out tomorrow,” he whispers in my ear. Electricity ripples through my body.

  “I’ll sleep in the other bedroom,” he says, turning to go.

  I can’t bear to be alone. I grab his hand. We don’t say a word. I scoot into his bed, and he follows. He nudges me onto my side and cuddles my back. We fit perfectly together. I don’t let myself think of Sanna. I block out the guilt that is eating me alive. For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel that dark solitude in the pit of my stomach.

  “I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Braydon says, squinting to see house numbers. We’ve parked his bike and are looking for Senga’s house on foot.

  “I think 10978 will be on this side of the street.” We cross the road. “Are you sure this is Blue Sky Crescent?” I look around even though I know I won’t find a street sign. Most of them are long gone or weatherworn to the point that you can’t read them anymore.

  “That’s what the map said, I think.” Braydon rotates the map a quarter turn. “It’s either that or Starry Night Lane. Who came up with these names anyway?”

  Most of the houses look abandoned. Some have boarded-up windows. The doors of a few houses stand open, like a gaping mouth ready to scream. They all look alike—two story brick structures. Some have different-shaped windows or garages attached, but they are fundamentally the sam
e. “I think it’s this one.” I point to a house up the road. Its shrubbery has been trimmed into neat boxes. Chipped clay pots with red geraniums frame the front door.

  “How do you know we can trust her?” he asks, his pace slowing.

  “Just trust me.” I take his hand and pull him forward. When I realize what I’ve done, I wiggle my hand free. Our whole morning was like this. We’d get close and then one of us would remember Sanna and we’d create distance.

  I knock on the door to 10978. Braydon stands behind me, like a bodyguard searching for threats. The door opens and Senga waves us in. “We’re friends of—” I start as soon as she has closed the door behind us.

  “I remember you,” she interrupts. “Follow me.” The woman has her hair in pink foam curlers and wears a threadbare gray bathrobe. She’s shuffling her feet, and that’s when I notice the tattered bunny slippers. They make me smile but somehow feel less safe. Mom wouldn’t have sent me here if it wasn’t safe. Sanna wouldn’t have taken part in the silent demonstration if Senga couldn’t be trusted. I look back at Braydon and can tell he’s got the same reservations I do.

  She leads us to her backyard. “Take a seat.” She gestures to a rusty metal chair, a lounge chair missing half of its canvas ribbons, and a tricycle. I take the bike and Braydon chooses to stand. Senga gingerly sits in the lounge chair. “Sorry I can’t offer you something to drink; with three kids we don’t have any to spare.”

  I’m thrown off by the we and the kids comment. I wonder where her family is. As if she can read my mind, she adds, “My husband’s at work and the kids are at school—”

  “Sanna’s been arrested,” I blurt. Her full, round face seems to elongate when she frowns. “I was hoping you could help me find her.”

  Senga glances at Braydon. I can tell she’s not happy he’s here. “Not sure,” she says hesitantly.

  “Where would they take her?” Braydon asks. He’s not comfortable either. He’s shifting in those red boots of his.

  “Listen,” Senga says to me. “I’m doing this as a favor. I told your mom I’d help you escape up North.” Braydon gives me a pointed look. I haven’t been completely honest with him and he knows it. Senga doesn’t seem to notice the temperature rise between Braydon and me. “But no one told me about him.” She gestures toward Braydon.

  “He’s Sanna’s boyfriend,” I say by way of explanation.

  “I don’t care who he is. As a matter of fact, I want him out.” She points to her back door, but her rigid arm tells me she wants him farther away than that.

  “Yeah, all right.” He kicks at the dirt with the toe of his boot. “I’ll wait by the motorcycle. Don’t be long, okay?” He squeezes my shoulder as he passes.

  Senga waits until she hears her front door shut before she speaks. “I wish I’d never told that girl anything about the resistance. But her mom was fundamental to the movement. I felt I owed it to her. Sanna begged me to tell her about the silent demonstration. Gave me some big dramatic speech about her friend counting on her. You know Sanna.”

  “She was arrested at the silent demonstration yesterday.”

  “Damn it!” Senga falls through the missing canvas strips with the force of her anger. Her bottom is now on the ground and her legs are bent and sticking up in the air, but she doesn’t move. She continues as if nothing has happened. “I thought the younger girls had gotten away.”

  “Where would they take her?” I stand and help her out of the chair.

  She stands really close to me and whispers, “I’ve heard rumors, but it’s just rumors, mind you, of a Women’s Empowerment Center.”

  I remember those words. They were on a file on Dad’s desk. “What is it? Do you think that’s where Sanna is?”

  “I don’t know exactly, but I think it’s where they are taking young women when they get arrested.”

  “Do you know where this center is?”

  She shakes her head. “But maybe I could find out. If you’re sure?” She’s staring at me, sizing me up.

  I look her directly in the eyes. “I’ve got to find Sanna.”

  “It’s going to be dangerous; and I mean dangerous. I don’t mean some patriotic seminar or time at a Community Farm. This is serious business, and if the rumors are true… well, let’s hope people are exaggerating.”

  I want to ask her about these rumors, but I don’t really want to know, not right now. It doesn’t matter what the consequences. “I’ve got to do it.”

  “Well, okay then.” Her face is getting red and beads of sweat are forming on her brow. “Let me ask around and see if I can get a location. I’ll see if any of my contacts can confirm that that’s where they’ve taken her. Come back tomorrow morning.” She looks behind me. “Alone.”

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-FIVE

  My body is rattling. I have become one with Braydon’s motorcycle. I can’t feel my butt or legs anymore. I press my cheek into Braydon’s back to keep my teeth from chattering. I think I’m still holding on to him, but I am disconnected from time and space. The landscape is barren; a line of trees borders the highway, then fields. Everything is dry, brown, and dying. They don’t operate the precipitation program this far north anymore. The road is an endless black line ahead of us. We pass a car every half hour or so.

  At first I was caught up in the excitement of it all. Braydon and Neva to the rescue. Braydon had driven me to Senga’s house early this morning. We’d watched her husband and three kids leave. My heart ached when I noticed that all three of her children were girls. I understand exactly why Senga is doing what she is doing. She is risking everything to give her girls a future.

  She gave me vague directions to what she had been told was the location of the Women’s Empowerment Center. Senga had said she couldn’t promise that Sanna was there, but someone had told one of her contacts that Sanna had been transported to a facility up North. She told me to take the main highway out of the City. She said to look for a newly paved exit ramp. One of her friends in Resource Management said that nearly three years ago funds had been diverted by the Minister of Health to renovate a big complex up North.

  “This has to be it,” Senga had said. “What is the Minister of Health doing creating roads? It’s going to be well guarded. Good news is there’s only portable generators up that way.”

  “Why is that good news?” I’d asked.

  “Means they won’t use power for nonessentials like electronic fencing or surveillance systems. They will guard the facility the old-fashioned way. Are you sure you want to do this?”

  I had nodded, but everything inside me screamed to call the whole thing off. What did I think I was doing? Braydon wanted to wait, but I’d said no. He doesn’t know I’ve got no time to waste—only three days. Also, if I had time to think about what I was doing, let the reality of it sink in, I’d probably never have the strength to go through with it.

  He gathered some supplies: food, water, blankets, and an extra battery for his motorcycle. There are no more official charging stations more than one hundred miles north of the capitol. If Senga’s directions are right, we are going well beyond that.

  The highway is vacant and never ending. It is as if we’ve escaped into another place. Braydon and I are held together by the pull of the road. Braydon elbows me in the ribs and points. I see it. Up ahead there’s a black diagonal line angling off the highway. As we drove, if I looked hard, I could see where other roads branched off. Most of these roads were overgrown with weeds that sprouted from fissures in the pavement. But as we approach, the dark line becomes a road, almost an arrow, beckoning us to follow it.

  We exit and feeling comes rushing back into my body. It’s only then that I realize that I was beginning to like this no-man’ s-land that Braydon and I are inhabiting. The low mellow hum of his bike. The sun-warm feel of his leather jacket against my cheek.

  The highway felt open and expansive. This road, which cuts through a forest, feels as if it endlessly narrows. The black, oily asphalt is onl
y one car-length wide. Tall trees with thick trunks create a staggered wall around us. Their branches reach crippled fingers across the road and block out the sky. The sun pokes its slim rays through the treetops and we travel through thin columns of light.

  The sound doesn’t register at first. I think I’ve imagined it. But as it gets louder, I realize it’s outside of me. Braydon’s body stiffens; he’s heard it too. I look around wildly. Our balance is unsettled, and the motorcycle wobbles. I mold to Braydon to help steady us. But I’ve glimpsed something behind us, a van maybe. Near his ear I yell, “We are being followed!” I’m afraid the wind rushing past has stolen my voice until Braydon nods. He accelerates and I’m jerked back. I dig my fingernails into his jacket and he leans us forward. The sound behind us gets louder. It’s gaining on us. I don’t have to turn around to know that it will be there, looming large behind us. We speed up. The bike shudders between my thighs. It’s as if it’s straining every gasket to propel us faster and faster.

  Braydon’s looking for another exit, but the trees create a barrier around us. Braydon edges to the left. It’s the wrong angle to get us safely over the lip of the road, but I’ve got to trust him. He steers the bike to the right. We are airborne for a moment and then slam down to the ground. It’s only by Braydon’s strength and skill that we manage to stay upright. We slow down as we weave our way through the forest. The uneven ground jostles us. I bounce out of sync with Braydon. The trees are so close that I can almost feel their rough bark on my skin. I look behind us. The white van has stopped on the road. Maybe we are safe.

  The obstacle course ahead seems impossible, but Braydon twists and turns us. We bounce over the ground, lined with tree roots. My head snaps back and forth with every jolt. I hold tighter to Braydon. We are well away from the road. The bike is slowing down at an alarming rate. The chase must have drained the battery. We roll to a stop.

  I hop off the bike. “That was…” I start but can’t find the words. “You were…” My legs falter underneath me. Braydon drops the bike and rushes to me.