Citizens of Logan Pond Box Set

by Rebecca Belliston

  Her voice trembled, and it was a moment before she continued. “He stormed off, but I thought he’d listened. The last I saw him, he was charging a federal patrolman. The patrolman took aim and…” A shudder ripped through her. “It was over before I could blink. He died hating me. I destroyed the lives of everyone he loved. I didn’t even get to say goodbye or explain anything. He hated me. I hated myself, too.” She wiped her nose but smiled. “Still do, actually.”

  “So why are we here?” Not the most empathetic thing to say, but the thought was screaming in his mind. Isabel had loved an illegal! “You wanna destroy more lives like Pete’s?”

  Those dark, watery eyes turned on him. “No. I want to help these people, Greg. Millions of illegals are starving and dying, but instead of letting us help them, they’re turning violent and killing others, innocent citizens who follow the laws. You should have seen the kids in Pete’s clan. No shoes and down to skin and bones, but no one cared. Well, I care. If these clans won’t come peacefully, they leave us no choice but to acquire and relocate them where they’ll be protected and their children will live to see adulthood.”

  “Acquire? Do you even hear yourself? Most clans are doin’ fine. They’re only fighting back ‘cause the government won’t leave them be. President Rigsby doesn’t want to help illegals. He wants to make them slaves.”

  Her countenance darkened. “That’s traitorous talk.”

  “Yeah? Well, guess what?” He yanked up his sleeve. “My mark is real. By force and force alone, I’m here. This game of Rigsby’s with cards and so-called emergency laws is ugly, repulsive, and still leaves millions dead. So forgive me if I don’t jump on your pretended savior bandwagon. I’m here ‘cause I’ve got a virtual gun to my head. Don’t ever forget that.”

  She shook her head. “What did we ever do to you?”

  Words escaped him. Did she want to see his back? His sister’s grave? The list was far too long, so he settled on the most pressing offense. “You’re not the only one who didn’t get a goodbye.”

  She rolled her eyes. “So you didn’t get a sweet sendoff from your girl? At least Carrie doesn’t hate your guts. At least she’s still alive, waiting for your return.”

  “I wasn’t talkin’ about Carrie.”

  “Really? Just how many girls do you have?” Isabel’s brows rose in another teasing look. It was amazing how fast she could jump from emotion to emotion. “Shame on you, Gregory Pierce. You’re a total player but refuse to let me play.” She batted her dark eyes. “Was it something I said?”

  “I meant my mom,” he barked. “The last I saw her, she was on the floor of our township office, sobbing and coughing up blood, all because of one of your patrol bullies. She’s sick, dyin’ of some kinda cancer, but one of your guys ripped me out of her arms—literally—before I could say goodbye. She couldn’t walk, couldn’t move. I don’t know if she made it home. I don’t even know if she’s still alive. I know nothing! And McCormick still threatens her to keep me in line.”

  Isabel’s face fell. “I’m sorry, Greg. No, really. I am.”

  His fists clenched along with the rest of him, but she wisely let the subject drop and fell silent. Finally.

  The desire to make a run for it suddenly overwhelmed him, only unlike all the other times, he didn’t fight it off. They walked five minutes before he had it planned.

  “Look,” he said, “there’s no point waltzing into camp right now. People are more relaxed in the evening. They might be more open to two newbies. Plus, illegals like us look for shelter toward night anyhow. I say we watch this group until dusk and then make the approach.”

  “Alright,” she said.

  No fight. Surprising.

  Another minute passed. He scratched his hot beard. “In fact, I’d feel more comfortable if we watched them for a full day. With the rebellion heatin’ up here, people will be more skittish than ever about lettin’ folks into their clan. If we watch them for a full day, we’d know who’s the leader and how to spin our story. We could go in just before dusk tomorrow.”

  “Another day?” She fixed him with a flat stare. “What are you scheming, Pierce? Don’t forget that I have radios that are being tracked by McCormick even as we speak.”

  He stiffened. Homing devices? That would have been nice to know. Still, he could pull it off.

  “I wanna leave,” he said point blank. “I wanna go home for a day.”

  “What?” she shouted loud enough it echoed off the trees.

  He shoved a hand over her mouth. “You scout out this clan while I’m gone”—and keep both locater radios—“and I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon in time to go in.”

  She swatted his hand away. “You’re crazy.”

  “I’d be gone just a day, and then I’ll finish the mission.” He’d run all day and night if he had to. “Then I’ll commit to do whatever you want. No more fighting you.”

  “Anything I want?” she asked with another arched brow.

  He hesitated. Women like Isabel got their way, especially with men, but he’d deal with the fallout later. It was worth it to go home even for a few hours. But when he opened his mouth to answer, his words betrayed him.

  “No. Not anything.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s what I thought. How would you even find your way home? Or back here?”

  “I came a thousand miles on foot. Believe me, I can find my way.”

  “So you want to leave your sweet, pregnant wife to visit your old girlfriend. Talk about a slap in the face.”

  “To see my mom,” he corrected. “I don’t even know if she’s still alive, but if she is, I’d like the chance to say goodbye.” Seeing Carrie would just be a bonus. “I’ll beg if I have to.”

  “I’m guessing a guy like you doesn’t beg very often.” She folded her arms. “What’s in it for me?”

  Adrenaline shot through him. She was actually considering it. He’d only been gone for six weeks. His mom could have survived that long. She still had six weeks in her. She had to.

  “A chance to redeem yourself,” he said. “To prove to Pete—and yourself—that you’re not the horrible, brainwashed person he died thinkin’ you were. That you still have a heart.”

  It was a low blow, but she chewed her bottom lip, pensive. “And…you’d be back when?”

  “How far are we from Shelton?” he asked, perched on his feet to make a run for it.

  “Maybe ten miles.”

  Twenty miles roundtrip. It would be hard, but he could do it. Maybe Carrie had fixed the bike, or he’d find Oliver and snatch a ride back. Either way… “I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon. You do the surveillance now, and I’ll be back in time to go in tomorrow night. No more fightin’ you.”

  She studied their surroundings. He could barely hear over his pounding pulse. Carrie. His mom.

  But then her countenance fell. “I can’t. I’m sorry, Greg. I just can’t.”

  “If you had a chance to say goodbye to Pete,” he pled, “wouldn’t you take it? C’mon. It’s my mom.”

  She swallowed and looked away. “I can’t. My uncle would kill me, and I just don’t trust you enough. I’m sorry.”

  “Please. I’ll do anything. What do you want from me?”

  “To stop asking.” She turned away from him. “Listen, the sooner we do this mission, the sooner you can get home to your mom—and your precious Carrie. So let’s go.”

  Isabel started off at a brisk pace. Greg clutched his bags, defeat consuming him. He’d been so close. So close. She didn’t try to talk to him as they walked, and he refused to speak to her. It was pure silence the rest of the way to the first clan.

  thirty-four

  “YOU LOOK…” OLIVER SAID at Carrie’s door. “You look great.”

  Carrie smiled. “Thanks. You, too.” She’d never seen Oliver wear anything but his green uniform, but he’d changed into a black polo and khakis. The clothes made him look different. Younger. More relaxed. More attractive even, which made her more nervou
s.

  Oliver pulled out a small bouquet of wildflowers from behind his back. Flowers in every shade. “Here.”

  “They’re beautiful.” She held them close and inhaled the scent of summer. His errands had been to change and pick wildflowers? “Thank you. Here, let me put them in water. Come on in.”

  He entered her house but stayed by the front door.

  As she walked into the kitchen, she searched around for something. Her only jar was still occupied with dead branches which had dropped their white blossoms long ago. She hadn’t tossed them out—another pathetic sign she was twelve years old. Filling her own drinking cup with water, she took her time arranging the wildflowers to calm her nerves.

  It was just dinner.

  Just dinner with Oliver.

  “I like your house,” he said, looking around as if he’d never seen the inside, as if he hadn’t been through many times for government sweeps. Besides her ugly green couch and the card table that served as their kitchen table, her house was empty, and the carpets hadn’t been vacuumed in years, but she thanked him anyway.

  Amber walked downstairs. “Hi, Oliver. Wow. Don’t you look nice? And my, those flowers are beautiful, aren’t they, Carrie?” She joined Carrie in the kitchen with a wink.

  Carrie shot her a warning look. Her sister had never been nice to Oliver before. What was the deal now?

  “The noodles for dinner are in the fridge,” Carrie said. “I’ll be back later.”

  In an instant, Amber sobered. “You’ll be back before dark, right?” she asked softly. Amber hated the dark, especially in the summer when they weren’t allowed any candles because of long daylight hours.

  “Yes. Make Zach finish cleaning the chicken coop. It looks terrible.”

  “Will do.” Amber plastered on another fake smile. “Have fun!”

  Feeling jittery, Carrie followed Oliver to his car. He opened the passenger door for her and Carrie slid into the artificially cooled air. Even the seat was blissfully cold, and she snuggled in.

  “I didn’t know you still used your fridge,” Oliver said when he started up the car.

  “What? Oh, yeah. It’s still good for storing food. In the winter, we use ice from the pond and the insulation works pretty well,” Carrie said. “The rest of the time, we use it like a pantry. It keeps flies off things.”

  “Oh. That’s smart.”

  It didn’t feel smart, but she appreciated him not pitying her. Between her lack of electricity, holey shoes, and everything else that felt dirty and ragged, there were plenty of things he could scoff at, but he never did.

  As they pulled out of the neighborhood, she felt every eye watch them. This was more than a little drive. She was heading into civilization with real people and real places. So she used the opportunity to search every side road and home for signs of illegal life. Tomorrow she, Terrell, and Richard would set out again, hopefully with more luck. If she could scout things out, she could save them time—and hopefully, errors. Everything looked dead as they drove, but it helped clarify the location of a few neighborhoods that they could check out. And then the houses were gone, and it was nothing but road.

  There were some people you could sit with in silence and feel at ease. Oliver wasn’t one of them. Or maybe she wasn’t one of them. Either way, the drive seemed to stretch. When they pulled onto the old highway, it solidified the feeling: she was leaving Logan Pond.

  “Where are we headed?” she asked.

  “South Elgin, if that’s alright,” Oliver said.

  “Sounds great.” Carrie and her mom used to go there for a craft fair every year. Absentmindedly, she wondered how far Naperville was, but she didn’t dare ask. She was pretty sure Greg’s training grounds were the opposite direction anyway.

  As they neared South Elgin, Carrie saw the first signs of life. People walked the streets. Not homeless illegals like her. Not even patrolmen. Normal-looking people with clothing that wasn’t stained, ripped, or hanging on all-too-skinny bodies. At first there were a few random people sporadically strolling the sidewalks with grocery bags or strollers, but with each passing block, the number increased. And then she saw cars. Real, regular cars moving on the roads.

  “Is South Elgin a government municipality?” Carrie asked, even though those people looked too rich for blue cardies. Her nerves tightened.

  “It’s a new chartered city,” Oliver said. “An experiment of sorts. It used to just be government workers and their families, but last year the government asked yellow card holders to move here, offering incentives to relocate, so it almost feels normal. For the most part, there aren’t restrictions here like a blue card municipality would have.”

  “Like fences?” she asked.

  “Yeah…” he said carefully. “And other things.”

  A vague answer.

  As she took in her surroundings, other questions swirled in her mind. How often did Oliver come here? Would Greg eventually live somewhere like this? How did these people earn money to live, eat, and drive cars? It was like the Collapse hadn’t happened here. A young couple crossed the street in front of them, holding hands and laughing like they didn’t have a care in the world. Maybe they didn’t. South Elgin felt like a million miles away.

  Three patrolmen strolled out of a corner store, and a wave of panic swept over her. She shrank down in her seat, feeling horrifyingly vulnerable. Oliver or no Oliver, travel permits or not, one wrong move and she’d be arrested. Life in prison. No more Amber and Zach.

  Oliver pulled up to a curb. “Are you okay?”

  He had parked next to an old diner with Harvey’s Deli & Cafe painted bright red on the window. It looked cute and quaint and… She peeked back and couldn’t see the patrolmen anymore, but a different patrolman leaned against the deli, finger on his gun belt, cigarette hanging from his mouth. He glanced at Oliver’s car—at her—and her pulse pounded so hard she felt it in her ears.

  Oliver leaned forward and peered at her all scrunched in her seat. “Um…do you want to go home?”

  He hadn’t even noticed the patrolmen. Of course he hadn’t. He was one.

  He put the car in reverse, but she grabbed his arm.

  “Wait. Sorry. I just…” She worked to breathe slowly.

  His eyes softened. “I have your papers in my pocket, Carrie. Do you want to see them? I-I-I’ve been meaning to show them to you for some time anyway. You need to see them.”

  “No, it’s fine. I trust you.” I do, I do, I do.

  But why?

  Oliver arrested people like her, and they went to prison for the rest of their lives.

  “I promise I’d never let anything happen to you,” he said gently. “But…but I understand if you want to go home.”

  “No.” Carrie took a deep breath. “I want to go in.” And more than anything, she wanted to stop being afraid. Oliver was giving her a gift tonight, a gift to remember what it was like to live a normal life.

  “I’m better now,” she said, sliding back on her seat. “Let’s go.”

  * * * * *

  The second Zach passed the open bedroom door, he knew he was in trouble. Amber looked up from her mattress.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Amber asked.

  “That’s for me to know and you not to find out,” Zach muttered. Then he took off, racing down the stairs two at a time.

  Amber chased after him and caught his red t-shirt, yanking him back before he could escape out the front door.

  “Want to bet?” Amber said. “I’ll tell Carrie you snuck out while she was gone.”

  “Wait, you can’t tell Carrie,” Zach said. “Please. Just let me go. I’ll do anything.”

  “Anything? Hmmm…” Amber tapped the side of her chin, expression turning evil. “My chores for a month, including Richard’s water buckets.”

  “No way! Carrie will know something’s up.”

  “Not if you do them when she’s in the garden. A month,” Amber said, holding out her hand.

  “A w
eek,” Zach countered.

  “Three.”

  “Fine.” Zach shook her hand. “But if Carrie finds out, you have to pay me back and do my chores for that long.”

  “Fine.”

  Zach didn’t trust his conniving sister, but Carrie wouldn’t be gone forever. He raced out of his house, past a bend in the trail by the cemetery, and straight to the meeting place. Tucker was already there, looking mad.

  “What took you so long?” Tucker said.

  “I had to finish the chicken coop,” Zach said, starting off at a fast pace.

  “If they’ve already left, I’ll kill you. We missed the last two times because of your dumb sister.”

  It hadn’t even occurred to Zach that they might miss the whole thing. He’d be doing Amber’s stupid chores for nothing. “We better run.”

  They did, whizzing past bushes, beyond the weird, double-trunked tree, and over Bramman Highway. Zach ran until his lungs burned and his legs felt like rubber. With his bad ankle, he was half as fast as he needed to be. Even when it started to ache, he didn’t slow down. He just limp-ran the rest of the way.

  When they reached the black fence, they stopped, gasping for air. Then they watched the opening of the old barn.

  “Be there,” Zach whispered between heavy breaths. “Still be there.”

  Crossing the last of the distance, they ducked down and shimmied in through the old animal door where chickens or cats used to enter. It was dark inside the barn. Once Zach’s eyes adjusted, he and Tucker crept past the old stables and climbed the rickety ladder to the loft. The loft was darker than the rest of the barn, especially with the evening sun.

  “Hey?” Zach called softly. “Hello? It’s Zach and Tucker.”

  “Where have you guys been?” a girl said. Her voice came from the usual corner. Zach squinted and made out the group of six or seven teenagers. He couldn’t help but smile.

  “When you didn’t show up last week,” the blonde girl continued in her whiny voice, “we thought you guys had chickened out.”