The Lost Kids: A Young Adult Dystopian Romance

by J. L. Smith

  “I, um,” Neal stammered.

  “Relax already, Saff,” Susie said. “Rayder’s never let us down before.”

  “Yeah, but this is different,” Saffron responded angrily. She turned to Rayder, “The boys have decided exactly where we’re going and haven’t bothered to tell the girls.”

  I watched Rayder’s eyes in the rear-view mirror and saw the truth in them. “Is that true?” I asked him. He caught my gaze in the mirror and I just shook my head.

  “Can we just discuss this tonight?” Rayder asked, a note of dread in his voice. His eyes were fixed on me in the mirror, but then he turned to look at Saffron, waiting for her response.

  “Fine,” she snapped, folding her arms. “But, I swear, I won’t step foot in this truck tomorrow if I don’t know where we’re going.”

  Rayder nodded, while Susie murmured, for my ears only, “It’d be a long walk.”

  I smiled at her, but could not shake the feeling of anxiety that was beginning to settle over me. Just what exactly did Rayder have in mind for us?

  The campfire was barely blazing that evening when Saffron brought it up again. It was warmer than the previous few nights and most of us had removed our jackets, lulled by the heat of the fire. The sky was almost dark, except for a sliver of deep blue on the horizon. Besides the crackle of the flames, it was quiet around us, still before the creatures of the night began to hunt and forage.

  “It’s time to start talking, Ray,” Saffron said quietly, staring intently at the fire.

  “Yeah,” Rayder sighed.

  “So?” she prompted, looking directly at him in challenge, her black hair shining hellishly from the glow of the orange flames.

  “So,” Rayder said slowly, “it boils down to one question.” He glanced at all of us briefly, an odd expression on his face, “What are Balen’s runners trying to do?”

  When there was a brief silence, Susie said, “Catch us.”

  “Right,” Rayder responded, tracing a circle with his index finger in the sand. “And, that’s exactly what we need to do.” Before we could ask him to clarify, he continued quietly, “Basically, we need a golden ticket into Balen’s fortress. No questions asked. The only way I can see that happening is if we bring him The Lost Kids.” He looked steadily at us as we sat around the fire, “And, I don’t mean us. There’s a band of actors I came across a few years ago. They could do it. They could play us.”

  “You want a bunch of actors to pretend to be us, while we carry on pretending to be runners?” Saffron asked. Rayder simply nodded. “That seems a touch risky, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah,” Rayder agreed, “but if it works, it’ll be our in. The chance we’ve been looking for to end him.”

  “Why would these actors agree to it?” I asked and was surprised when Saffron nodded along with my question.

  “Money,” Kieran said calmly. “The same reason anyone does anything.”

  “Not everyone’s like that,” Stef corrected, softening her rebuke with a smile.

  “Most,” he replied, smiling back at her.

  “But, what if Balen kills them?” Susie added. “Not much use for the money then.”

  “I don’t know,” Rayder admitted. “I guess that’s a risk they have to be willing to take.”

  “They need an out,” Neal said thoughtfully. “A way to prove they’re not us.”

  “They’ll just turn on us,” Saffron said, shaking her head. “The minute there’s the slightest hint of danger, all they have to do is say we’re The Lost Kids instead.”

  “And there will be danger,” Susie continued. “A lot of it.”

  “Yeah,” Rayder replied. “That’s why they need a lot of money riding on it going well. Besides, I don’t think they’d want to be caught trying to outsmart Balen. He’d kill them anyway.”

  “Maybe,” Saffron conceded hesitantly. “Okay, even if we agree to this insane plan, how would we get our hands on that kind of money? There’s hardly anything left over after trading the bikes for the truck.” She cast a critical eye at our new purchase, “And what’s left is for fuel.”

  We all looked at Rayder, waiting for his response. “Before I get there, Neal, can you tell everyone what you figured out and about what happened that night at the weapons depot?”

  Neal nodded, “Okay,” he began hurriedly, “so there are two kinds of runners. You all know that, right?”

  He was about to move on, when I interrupted, “I don’t. Explain, please.”

  “Basically,” he rushed on, “there are those who bring the victims to Balen. In exchange, Balen pays them on delivery. They then, in turn, pay those who handed over the victim for the harvest, such as a family member or whatever the case may be. Sure, the runner can choose not make this payment, but a bad reputation in this business kills you.”

  “Often literally,” Susie quipped, causing me to smile, even while I kept focused on Neal.

  “Of course, the runners will keep some of Balen’s payment as their profit, hence making it worth their while. That brings me to the second type of runner. Now, this runner is a little different and here’s why.” Neal wiped his brow as he spoke, perhaps from his proximity to the fire, but I thought it could have more to do with the subject matter. “There exists a second group of people, a little closer to the inner circle. They collect the harvested organs from Balen’s people, and go on to sell these, bringing back Balen his share and keeping their own cut. Balen knows what organs sell for, so he has his expectations. But, if the runner gets a good deal, more of the pie for him.”

  “So, why’re they special?” I asked.

  “Balen has to trust them, to a certain degree,” Neal responded. “The organs are handed over with the expectation that money will return following their sale. The runner could cut and run.”

  “Pun intended,” Kieran added.

  “Right,” I said, “so I take it, it’s harder to become one of these runners?”

  “Correct,” Neal said. “And, that’s just what Jim was.”

  “Jim,” Susie started to laugh, “that guy continues to amuse me.”

  “When I asked Rayder if I could examine Jim’s armband,” Neal continued as if Susie had not spoken, “I noticed something. A sequence of numbers written on the leather. I began mulling it over and became more and more sure it meant something. I’m also fairly certain not every armband at that depot had these numbers on it, as I managed to get one off a drunken guy without him noticing and it didn’t have any numbers written on it. It appears only certain runners have a set of numbers on their armbands and I think these numbers change. In a nutshell, the first number has to be a date and time and the second, coordinates.”

  “Geez,” Susie said, “I’d hate you to know what I think about in my free time.”

  Stef and I started to laugh, the sound a little nervous, as I knew we were on the brink of something important.

  “I’m sure it has its merits,” Neal replied diplomatically, before his tone grew serious once more. “The date is in three days’ time and the coordinates are a spot on the south eastern route.”

  “And how can you be sure of this?” Saffron asked.

  “Because I had him check on the information at the depot,” Rayder responded.

  “When?” Saffron fired back at him. “I can’t believe you’re only telling me this now,” she added angrily.

  “During the rally,” Rayder answered, not bothering to address Saffron’s accusation, which I could imagine only incensed her further.

  “What’d you do?” I asked, directing my question at Neal again.

  “Everyone was so fixated on Balen, it was actually pretty easy,” he said, smiling shyly. “I had to pick a few locks, including the portable safe I found which contains some of Balen’s sensitive information. Time wasn’t on my side, otherwise I would have wanted to get more out of it. But, Jim’s name was in this book, which I can only assume lists upcoming deals, along with the d
ate and coordinates, written out in full.”

  “I suppose congratulations are in order,” Saffron said tightly. I nodded genuinely, seeing Neal in a whole new light. “But, I’m failing to see what the point was. Rayder?” She looked over at him coolly, yet her agitation was clear by the tapping of her foot in the sand.

  “It was pre-emptive,” Rayder replied. “Neal switched Jim’s name for mine. Or Damon’s, anyway.”

  “What?” Saffron exploded. “Why?”

  “I wasn’t sure what would happen at the rally and I thought it could be useful,” Rayder responded. “The worst that could happen is Damon not rocking up.”

  “To collect organs,” I clarified, staring at Rayder, a sick feeling in my stomach.

  “Yeah,” he said, more quietly now.

  Neal piped up again, “The information about the deal contained facts about Jim’s appearance. Rather detailed, actually, down to scars and whatnot. Obviously, there are quite a few runners and they can’t really keep track. I switched it out and described Rayder instead.”

  “Oh, wonderful!” Saffron snapped. “What, are you a handwriting expert now, too?”

  Neal blushed and Rayder shot back at her, “Take it out on me, okay!”

  “Fine, I will!” she retorted. “Did Kieran know this was going down?”

  “Only afterwards,” Rayder said.

  “Right,” Saffron replied. “Round about the time you should have been telling us.”

  “Are we collecting organs, Ray?” I asked at the same time, so quietly that only the twins beside me heard. Stef looked at me, horrified, while Susie’s mouth dropped open. “Rayder,” I said, a little too loudly this time. Everyone turned to look at me. “Please tell me we’re not picking up those organs.”

  There was silence for a moment and then Saffron said in disbelief, “This is a joke, right?”

  “No,” Rayder replied evenly. When no one spoke, he continued, “This is why I haven’t said anything yet.”

  “Oh, how noble of you!” Saffron shouted.

  “Saff, give them a chance to explain,” Stef said, looking at Kieran. “There’s got to be a good reason for it.”

  “Two reasons,” Rayder replied, “although I’m not sure how good they are.” He sighed, glancing over at me, “When I realized our ticket into the fortress is with the so-called Lost Kids, I also realized we need to seem legit. Meeting Balen at the depot isn’t enough. We need someone to know we collected organs for him, too. That we’re close to the inner circle.”

  “A little closer than I bargained for,” Susie muttered.

  “I don’t know if Balen will ever even know we collected them, but it adds to our legitimacy if anyone asks questions. The second reason is the cash,” Rayder continued, not meeting our gazes and instead staring at the flames. “If we sell the organs in the right market…” His sentence was left unfinished, but we all knew just where that money would go – towards paying the actors, towards bringing down Balen. “Of course, we won’t pay Balen his share, but we’ve got to hope no one notices until it’s too late.”

  There was another strained stretch of silence and I was surprised that even Saffron was speechless.

  “It’s a moral dilemma,” Neal said quietly. “We all know that. Do an evil to bring down a greater evil.”

  “You’re okay with this?” Stef asked Kieran, a look of shock on her face. Kieran nodded and Stef shook her head in response. “I don’t believe it.”

  “I told you a long time ago I’d do anything to get to Balen,” Kieran replied, his eyes hard. “If that includes selling organs, so be it. We can’t bring them back to life anyway.”

  “So, if we don’t sell them, someone else will?” Saffron asked softly, not looking at anyone.

  “I’m with Saffron,” I said, causing her gaze to meet mine. “This is just wrong.” I looked at Rayder, “It’s wrong and you know it.”

  “Yeah,” Rayder responded, “it is. But when it comes to war, everyone gets blood on their hands.”

  I did not want to believe him, but later that night, his words kept ringing in my ears. The evening had been a bit of a disaster, with Kieran and Stef fighting, Saffron blatantly ignoring Rayder and even Susie without her customary wit. Everyone had gone to sleep early, but I had had little success, still wide-eyed well past midnight. I gave up and exited the tent I was sharing with Susie, Stef and Kieran. Clearly, the latter had won Stef over, as she was sleeping in his arms.

  I found Rayder sitting at our campfire, “Can’t sleep?” I asked, unsurprised. It seemed he seldom did.

  “Nothing new there,” he responded.

  I sat down beside him, without waiting to be invited, and picked up our conversation from earlier, “You really believe it’s impossible for us to beat Balen without getting our hands dirty?”

  “Yeah,” he said, as if he had expected the question. “It doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  I nodded, “I take Kieran’s point. Whether we sell the organs, or someone else does, it won’t bring back those who died.”

  “No.”

  “But I’m still battling to get my head around it,” I confessed, playing lightly with the cool sand beneath my fingertips.

  “Yeah,” Rayder nodded, looking up at the stars, “you’re not the only one.”

  I was glad to hear it, although I did not say so. I knew Rayder was no saint, but I still liked to think of him, of us all, as the good guys, whatever that meant.

  “Are we coming with you?” I said, thinking of the deal itself.

  He seemed to know what I was asking, for he replied, “No, I’ll do it alone.”

  “You know,” I responded, suddenly struck by how lonely it had to be at the top, “just because we don’t all like this decision, doesn’t mean we wouldn’t want to go with you.”

  “Thanks,” he said, “but, it’s not that. It’s just safer this way. Fewer questions during the deal.”

  And, just like that, he was the Rayder I knew again – always thinking about the mission. It was time to sweep my own emotions under the rug and do the same. Whether I liked it or not, we would be selling organs. We would become the runners we had pretended to be.

  Within a few days, we had the organs. Our three-day journey to the pick-up point was uneventful – quite literally, as tension within our truck was at an all-time high. There were long spells of silence, punctuated only by frantic planning sessions. Everyone came around, Saffron included, but no one liked the idea. In the end, Rayder collected the organs in a shady alleyway, in a tiny speck of a town along the south eastern route. The collection time was midnight – a little dramatic, but that was rather in keeping with Balen’s image. Rayder said next to nothing about the exchange, just that it was some man he had not seen at the rally who handed the organs over to him. The rest of us had waited in the dark, within shouting distance, our hearts pounding, as Rayder had gone off alone. I did not think I would ever forget the look on his face as he had left us – fierce, determined, but also slightly defeated, as if he could not quite believe what he was doing.

  “It’s done,” he had said when he had returned, a look of distaste on his face. “He knew exactly what I looked like, thanks to Neal. I had the armband. No questions.”

  “Let’s sell them as fast as we can and take that son-of-a-bitch down,” Kieran had muttered from the shadows, somewhat angrily.

  “We have no choice,” Neal had responded more calmly. “The organs are bathed in a solution which buys us a few days, regardless of which body part they actually are, but time is of the essence.”

  “Let’s not waste it talking then,” Saffron had replied. “We might as well make all the cash we can.”

  “To the underground city, then!” Susie had declared, repeating a decision made by us in the days prior to collecting the organs. “Never thought I’d see the day. Has anyone actually been there?” When every head shook, Susie had laughed, “Right, this should be fun.”

&
nbsp; So it was, that the following day we were racing off in the opposite direction from Balen’s fortress – to the far north, to the underground city none of us had ever seen.

  Chapter 12

  I had heard of the underground city, of course. Everyone had. It was known as a haven for the rich, a paradise away from the big bad world. I could not imagine anything idyllic being buried underground, no matter how beautiful it was reputed to be. The thought made me instantly claustrophobic. Apparently, I was not alone.

  “To be honest,” said Susie, sucking on a can of soda during our first morning’s break, “I’d choose this mess any day of the week. At least we get fresh air and actual sunlight. I don’t care how many famous pieces of art are stored down there,” she added, mimicking a snooty accent, “it’s still dark and damp.”

  “Actually,” piped up Neal, “they regulate both by means of…”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Susie waved aside Neal’s explanation, “I’m sure it’s perfectly lovely down there, but tell me something, Neal, would you want to live there?”

  “Well, no,” Neal admitted, “but not for the same reasons.”

  “And yours are?” I asked, taking a bite of a cracker lathered in peanut butter.

  “I can’t relate to the very wealthy,” he responded. “We usually have vastly different worldviews.”

  Susie laughed, “You’re far too polite! They’re massive snobs. Cutting themselves off from the rest of us, leaving us to starve and fry to death under the sun.”

  Neal grinned, “Something like that.”

  “They’re not as cut off as they’d like,” said Kieran, speaking with his mouth full. “That’s the point. Nowhere can escape the outbreaks.”

  “Disease does have a way of doing that,” said Neal thoughtfully. “It seems no one is immune.”