Among the Betrayed (9 page)

“Left side. In the back,” Nina said.

“So the left side's east—you were going south,” Percy announced.

“If you say so,” Nina said.

“Her school's probably right off Route One,” Matthias said. “North of the city. Do we dare walk alongside the road?”

“If we don't, we'll be lost for sure,” Percy said.

Nina noticed how they didn't even pretend to ask her opinion. At least both boys glanced quickly at Alia, long enough for her to nod her agreement.

Nina told herself she didn't care. She just hoped she was right about the direction of the sunrise.

T
he four of them trudged through the woods for hours.

Nina got so tired that she stopped paying attention to where she was going, what the others said, or anything else. All that mattered was forcing herself to pick up one foot after the other, putting each foot down a little farther ahead of the other. She remembered how she'd told herself the other kids might slow her down—what a joke.
She
was the slow one.
She
was the one the others turned around and waited for, impatiently.

Finally Alia danced back to Nina and took her hand and said, “You can sit down now. We're going to wait while . . . while Percy and Matthias do something.”

Nina sank down to the ground and let her head flop back against a tree trunk. It felt better than any pillow.

“Do you want something to eat?” she said drowsily.

“Oh, yes!” Alia said. “Can I?”

Nina untied the food bag from around her waist and opened it toward the little girl.

“Take whatever you want,” Nina said.

“I think—just something small,” Alia decided. “Until
the boys come back. They'll know how to make the food stretch out.”

Nina didn't even bother staying awake to see what Alia chose. The next thing she knew, Alia was gently sliding an orange slice into Nina's mouth.

“This will give you energy,” Alia said.

Nina chewed and swallowed. She hadn't had oranges much. This one was sweet and juicy. And one slice wasn't nearly enough. All it did was remind Nina how ravenous she was. She pawed through the food bag and pulled out a box of cereal. She ripped off the top and began pouring it into her mouth. She'd never gobbled anything down so quickly before in her life.

“It's your food, not ours,” Alia said. “But shouldn't you save some to make sure we have enough for our trip?”

In the dark Nina hadn't even realized that Alia could see what she was doing. Nina blushed and stopped chewing. She'd been eating so greedily that some of the cereal flakes had bounced off her face and fallen to the ground, ruined.

“Did Percy and Matthias say you were my boss while they were gone?” Nina grumbled.

“No,” Alia said.

Nina began picking cereal out of the box, one flake at a time, and carefully placing each flake on her tongue.

“Where are they, anyway?”

“Um, they can tell you when they get back,” Alia said uncertainly.

This was maddening. Nina felt like throwing the whole box of cereal at the little girl. But just then she saw a glimmer of light bobbing through the woods. Coming toward them.

“Alia, look!” Nina whispered. “It's the Population Police. They're following our trail! We've got to run. . . .” She jumped up, only barely managing not to spill the rest of the cereal.

“Nina, relax. It's Percy and Matthias,” Alia answered.

“How do you know?”

“That's our signal. The way the light jumps.”

Nina looked again, and it did seem like the light was bobbing in a particular pattern: twice to the right, once to the left. Then twice to the right, once to the left again.

“Where'd they get a flashlight?” Nina asked.

Alia didn't answer.

A few minutes later the light went out. A twig crackled behind Nina and she stiffened, but it was only Percy and Matthias, sneaking closer.

“Safe?” Alia asked.

“Yep,” Percy said.

“Where were you? Where'd you get the flashlight?” Nina asked.

“We found it. Wasn't that lucky?” Matthias said.

Nina noticed he had answered only one of her questions. And she didn't entirely believe that answer. Flashlights were valuable, especially if they had batteries. She'd never even seen one until she went away to school.
Who would leave a flashlight just lying around out in the woods?

“Nina offered us food,” Alia said.

Nina fought down her irritation. She hadn't offered
them
food—she'd shared it with Alia. And why did she get the feeling that Alia was mostly trying to change the subject? But she couldn't think of anything to do but hold out the food bag with an ungracious, “Here.”

Percy and Matthias each pulled out a box of raisins.

“It's almost dawn,” Percy said. “I think it's safe for us to rest for a while. We can take turns sitting sentry.”

“Sentry?” Nina asked. “You mean—”

“One person watches while the others sleep,” Alia said.

Nina narrowed her eyes, thinking. Alia sounded like she knew all about sitting sentry.

“I can go first,” Nina said. “I got some sleep already, while you were out ‘finding' things.” She hoped they would notice the ironic twist she put on those words, but nobody said anything.

Within minutes, it seemed, the others were sound asleep, curled up together in a heap on the ground. Nina stared out into half darkness that seemed to be filled with mysteries. She wanted to turn on the flashlight, as if light could be company for her. But it was too dangerous—the light would only advertise their location to anyone who might be nearby. And the flashlight was too much of a mystery itself. Just thinking about it scared Nina.

Nina turned around and looked at the other three kids.
As the darkness faded, Nina watched the other kids' features emerge from the shadows. She'd spent so much time with them without light, she'd never had a chance to really study their faces. In sleep, Alia looked sweet and cute and cuddly. Even though she had a streak of dirt across her cheek, her light hair was neatly pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. Her dress was ragged and dirty, but the rips in the skirt had been mended with tiny, meticulous stitches. Nina wondered who had sewn those stitches, who had done Alia's hair. Had Percy and Matthias been sitting in the darkness of the jail cell every day carefully combing Alia's hair? Where had they learned to do that?

Maybe Alia had done it all herself. Nina remembered how confidently she'd climbed the stairs back at the prison, how confidently she'd turned back and mouthed the words, “All clear.” Where had Alia learned to be a lookout?

Nina looked out into the woods again—after all,
she
was supposed to be the lookout now—but nothing stirred. Not so much as a fern frond moved in the wind. She turned her gaze back to the other kids, settling this time on Percy. Everything about Percy was sharp—his nose, the set of his mouth, the bony elbows jutting out of his oversized, rolled-up shirtsleeves. His dark hair was longish and tangled. If he was the one who served as Alia's hairstylist, he used up all his effort on her and didn't do a thing for himself.

Huddled against Percy's back, Matthias looked worried, even in his sleep. His eyes squinted together and he moaned softly, as if he was having a bad dream. He turned his head from side to side, and his brown hair flopped down over his eyes.

What did Matthias dream about? What did he think about? Who was he, anyhow? She wondered, vaguely, if he'd killed someone to get the flashlight. For a minute, she could almost imagine it. It didn't seem impossible. So now the Population Police wouldn't be looking just for escaped prisoners, but murderers as well.

Nina shivered. Any way she looked at it, she was lost in a strange woods, in danger, with three kids she didn't trust. For all she knew, they could be like Jason—ready to betray her at any second. Crazy ideas sprouted in her mind: Maybe they were planning to kill her and steal her food. Maybe they were trying to figure out a way to turn her in to the Population Police and get a reward, without getting caught themselves. Maybe Nina should be running away from them right now, as fast as she could.

Alia sighed softly in her sleep, and that sound was enough to stop Nina's panic. Nina wasn't sure what to make of Percy and Matthias—after all, the last boy she'd trusted had betrayed her. But surely sweet, lovable Alia couldn't be in on a plot to hurt Nina.

Could she?

Nina stared back into the woods again, a strange, wild place with branches jutting out at odd angles and vines
hanging down like curtains. Nina couldn't have said if this woods looked like the one by her school or not. She'd never seen the other woods by daylight, only groped through it in the dark, clinging to Jason's hand. This sunlit woods was a terrifying place. The leaves on the trees seemed to hide eyes; the underbrush was probably crawling with snakes. Worse yet, Nina had no idea which way she was supposed to go to get to safety. But Percy did. Matthias did. Probably even Alia did.

Whether Nina wanted to trust the other kids or not, she had to.

She couldn't survive without them.

N
ina fell asleep.

She didn't mean to, but it was too hard to fight after walking all night. She kept telling herself to keep her eyes open—just a little longer, just until someone else woke up—but even her own eyes tricked her. They slid shut while she wasn't paying attention, and the next thing she knew, she was jerking awake, panicked.

“What? Who?” she sputtered senselessly.

Birds sang overhead. The day was hot now. Even in the shade of the woods Nina could feel sweat trickling down her back. But no Population Police officer stared down at her, no vicious snake hissed at her feet, no nightmare-come-to-life stood before her.

And everyone else was still asleep.

Alia's eyelids fluttered.

“Is it my turn?” she said drowsily.

“No, no, go back to sleep,” Nina managed to reply.

But Percy was stirring now, too; Matthias was stretching and yawning. He squinted up at the sky.

“It's after noon now. Were you sentry the whole time?”
he asked Nina. “Thanks for letting the rest of us sleep.”

“No problem,” Nina said uncomfortably. She couldn't bring herself to admit that she'd been sleeping, too. Nothing had happened, so it didn't really matter. Did it?

Percy was looking up at the sun, too. You'd think it was a clock and a map, the way they acted.

“I bet we can make it to your safe place by nightfall,” he told Nina.

Nina shrugged, not wanting to ask how he knew that.

“Can we have some breakfast?” Alia asked in her sweet, little-girl voice.

“Lunch, you mean,” Matthias corrected her.

Reluctantly Nina hauled out her food sack. By daylight it looked ragged and gross. But she was too hungry to care. She pulled an oatmeal bar out for herself and handed the sack on to Matthias. He selected a crumbly biscuit.

“These will go moldy if we don't eat them first,” he said, and Nina heard the criticism in his voice, that Nina had picked something else.

Percy and Alia also chose biscuits. The oatmeal stuck in Nina's throat.

“We're going to need water,” she mumbled. “I'm so thirsty. Can people die without water?”

It was amazing what she didn't know, what she'd never needed to know before. Being raised by Gran and the aunties—doted over, cosseted, her every need anticipated and met—wasn't exactly good training for surviving in
the woods. Harlow School hadn't taught her anything useful, either.

“There's a river up ahead,” Percy said.

This time Nina did ask, “How do you know?”

“I can hear it,” he answered.

And then Nina heard it, too, a distant hum, barely audible over the chirping of birds and the sound of the wind in the trees. Was that how water sounded?

“Let's go, then,” Nina said. She was afraid suddenly that her throat might close over, that she might die of thirst right then and there.

“We have to clean up first,” Matthias said.

Nina had her mouth open to ask what he meant—there was dirt everywhere, how did he expect to clean up a woods? But he and Percy and Alia had already gone to work, picking up crumbs, ruffling up the grass they'd slept on and flattened, erasing all signs of their presence.

“How did you know to do that?” Nina asked.

Percy shrugged. “We're not stupid,” he answered. Nina heard the words he didn't say: “Not like you.”

Nina turned away so no one could see how hurt she was. The others began walking toward the sound of the river, and she followed at a distance, her throat aching.

The hum of the water got louder the closer they got. It was like the buzz of traffic Nina had been able to hear in the summer, when they kept the windows open, at the apartment she'd shared with Gran and the aunties. The sound made Nina strangely homesick.
If Gran could see
me now,
she thought.
Filthy, ragged, disgusting. Desperate.
Gran used to scrub Nina's whole face if she had so much as a speck of jam by her mouth. No matter how much heating oil cost, Gran insisted on heating Nina's bathwater until Nina felt parboiled every time she bathed. “Kills germs,” Gran always said.

The memories stuck in Nina's mind as she fell to her knees before the river and, like the others, scooped water into her hands to drink and drink and drink. When she'd slaked her thirst, she announced to the others, “I'm taking a bath here, too.”

They stared at her.

“We're filthy,” Nina said. “I haven't had a bath since they arrested me. You guys should wash up, too.”