by PJ Sharon
Chapter 8
When I arrived home, I headed for the stable to start cleaning out the stalls—a smelly, sweaty, mindless job that fit my mood perfectly. Sam was there, brushing down the horses.
“I wondered where you’d run off to so early,” he said as I walked in. “Been to the pond?” It was more a statement than a question. He knew me too well. I nodded, grabbed a pitchfork, and started heaving manure over the wall of the stall into the composter. “Did you forget what today was?” Sam asked as he continued grooming Shilo, who let out a soft bray of satisfaction. I hadn’t forgotten, but I’d thought for sure that he and Lily had.
Sam set down the brush, disappeared into the tack room, and returned a moment later with a large wooden box. “Happy birthday, Zeph.”
I wasn’t much into celebrating my birthday—never had been, considering the event had caused the death of my mother—but I couldn’t help the warmth that spread through my chest, knowing Sam had remembered and thought to get me a gift. I lifted the lid on the box. Inside were several tools, all neatly lined up on a velvet-covered tray. Small hand tools for intricate designing, a wood burner with a variety of tips, a planer, and a set of drill bits—everything I would need to make my flutes and wood carvings without having to pilfer Sam’s tools. I ran my fingers along each piece. My eyes stung as they filled with tears, and I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “Wow! Thanks, Sam.”
“You’re welcome. I was going to wait until tonight, but I thought you might like to use them today. It’ll help you stay busy.” He looked apologetic but stern. “I meant what I said about you staying close to home. I don’t want you leaving the farm until further notice. Is that understood?”
I closed the box, my jaw tightening. “Yeah, I understand. But confining me isn’t going to change who I am.” I turned and stalked away, leaving Sam calling out after me to come back and wanting nothing more than to run as far away from him and this place as possible.
A while later as I sat on my bedroom floor burning the image of a wolf’s head onto a piece of poplar, I heard Lily and Sam downstairs talking. I got up and stood in my doorway, listening in on the conversation. As relieved as I was to learn that Bo had recovered from his near death experience, I couldn’t help but feel frustrated. Not to be free to run with the wolves, explore the woods, or go into town of my own free will made me feel trapped—a condition that every cell in my body resisted. Yet there I was—trapped in my room, trapped on this farm in the middle of nowhere, and trapped in my life. Then I heard Lily tell Sam that she was heading into town and ask if he needed anything.
I spent the next several minutes pacing back and forth in my small room like a caged animal, growing more restless to escape with every moment. It wasn’t fair that Lily could go wherever she wanted—do whatever she wanted, and never get into trouble for it.
Sam’s voice rose in warning. I caught the name “Josh Johnson” and a stern warning to “avoid strangers,” and then I heard the front door close. I watched out my window as Lily headed for the timber trail road. Fighting my urge to escape was futile. Against my better judgment, I climbed out my window, slid down the roof, and dropped to the ground below, landing as softly as a cat. I followed far behind my sister. She really shouldn’t be traveling into town alone. Hadn’t Sam told me it was my job to protect her?
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I was on shaky ground with my reasoning for ditching my confinement, but as I jogged silently through the woods behind Lily, I didn’t care. I was free. If Sam thought he could keep me locked away, it wasn’t happening. I pushed concerns about punishment to the back of my mind as I ducked behind trees and kept out of sight. My stealth mode was far superior to Lily’s, so it was easy to follow her undetected. Besides, I knew she was going to Mrs. Higgins’ store—first, to check on her patient, and second, to get me a birthday present. Another warm rush invaded my chest at the thought of Lily finding me exactly the right gift. She always seemed to know just what I needed.
As I came into town, the streets were already bustling with activity in spite of the early hour. I slipped into the shadows of buildings and alleyways. People wouldn’t say anything unkind to my face, but I could tell I made them nervous. It was best that I keep to myself. I stood across the street from Higgins Market, my back pressed up against the side of the Wyman’s clothier shop.
Not two minutes into her visit to town, Lily was in a confrontation with Josh and Luke Johnson. I peeked around the corner of the building to see if she needed my help, but she was already giving Josh an earful about picking on some kid who was down on his luck and new to town. Luke and Josh were shoving the kid back and forth like a sack of potatoes, and just as Lily intervened, the kid took off. I knew my interference wouldn’t improve the situation, so I stayed glued to the wall in the alley and listened. After a few more choice words from my sister, Josh and Luke headed toward the butcher shop.
Lily stopped in front of the door to Higgins Market and then quickly disappeared around the side of the building. I could see her peeking in the window and wondered what the heck she was up to. I shook my head at her weird behavior and then my attention was drawn to a more interesting sight.
The alley, normally empty, had a smart black vehicle with wide tires and darkened windows parked between the buildings. I studied the vehicle with a keen eye. Sam would kill for parts of that monster. I wondered who it belonged to. I had a fleeting thought about getting home ahead of Lily and hoping Sam hadn’t noticed I was gone, but I couldn’t resist checking out the beefy treads. With those wide tires and that suspension, the thing could go practically anywhere. The bumpers were squared-off and the front grill had a mean looking titanium alloy grid pattern. Cool-o indeed. I was peering into a darkened window trying to get a look at the interior, when a strong hand landed on my shoulder.
“Hey kid! What do think you’re doing?”
My heart slammed against my ribs as I spun and faced a large man at least a foot taller than me and a hundred pounds heavier. “I was…just looking. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Steely gray eyes glared down at me, his expression changing from harsh to neutral as if he recognized me. After a minute, he released the vice like grip on my arm. “You shouldn’t go messing around with government property.”
My stomach clenched at the realization that I was in the hands of an Industry agent. He was dressed all in black with the letter E etched into the hair on the side of his head—the Industry insignia. Sam had shown it to me in pictures, the letter E standing for Evolution—the last hope for humanity, according to whatever powers were still running our so-called country. I stepped back and stood taller, facing the man head on. “I wasn’t ‘messing’ with anything. Maybe you shouldn’t leave such a valuable asset untended.”
The man’s eyes widened—then crinkled at the corners as he studied me for a minute. “You’ve got spunk, kid. Maybe you can help me out.” He leaned against the car and crossed one ankle over the other, folding his arms much like Sam did when he was about to try to play me. “I’m looking for a boy about your age. He’s got a sister a few years older. You know anybody around here like that?”
I tried to keep my face blank, but I could feel sweat beading on my forehead. “No, Sir.” I cleared my throat. “What does he look like?”
“You see, that’s the thing. I don’t really know. But I’ll know him when I find him.” A bad feeling settled into my gut as his lips curved into a sideways smile. His eyes remained cool.
“How will you know him?” I asked, my voice a bit on the husky side.
“You’re full of questions, aren’t you, kid?” He uncrossed his leg and pushed away from the vehicle. “If you see this boy around, give him a message for me. Tell him…tell him Agent Marx would like to talk to him. Tell him I know what it’s like to be him. Tell him if he wants to figure out how to manage his…condition, he should contact me.” He handed me a small communications device, not like anything I’d ever seen. “Tell him
I’ll be around this area for a few more days—until I find him and his sister. It’s a shame, really,” he said, opening the heavy door of the vehicle, “I really only need the boy. But if I find out where they live, I might have to take the whole family in. Of course, the kid would be treated like royalty with the kind of condition he has, but the rest of the family…well, you just tell him to call me if you see him.”
The man got in, closed the door, and rumbled out onto Main Street, leaving me standing in the alley with the com unit in hand and my mouth hanging open.