Among the Brave (12 page)

I can do this,
Trey told himself.
I have to.

He reached across the hole, feeling around for the wall on the other side. As soon as he touched metal, he pulled his upper body over the hole and thrust his legs down it
,
bracing his feet and knees along the side of the metal chute. He banged his head on the top of the duct, and his leg muscles began trembling with the strain almost immediately But he didn’t fall. He inched down, each move absolute agony.

How much farther can it possibly be?
They wondered.
How high are the Grants’ ceilings?

Finally, They’s foot brushed something directly below him. He straightened out his legs, delighted that he’d soon be standing on solid ground.

Well, solid duct, anyway,
he corrected himself

He eased his stiff, aching arms away from the walls of the duct so all his weight was on his legs and the duct below.

Suddenly there was a ripping sound. Trey plunged straight down. As he reached out frantically, clutching for anything that might stop his fall, his fingers brushed plastic. He grabbed what seemed to be a plastic tube, which swung down to the right Seconds later, he hit a concrete floor with a muffled thud.

Trey lay still, too stunned even to try out his arms and legs and make sure that nothing was broken. In near-darkness, he peered straight up, trying to comprehend what had happened. He’d broken through the duct, of course, but why? He looked at the plastic tube he still hugged to his chest. Oh. He was in the basement, and the ducts down here were evidently plastic, not metal. The tube he was clutching was about as flimsy as a garbage bag.

At least it was strong enough to break your fall,
he told himself reassuringly.
And nobody knows I’m here.

"What was that?” someone yelled.

Correction,
They thought.
At least they haven’t found me yet. At least I have time to hide.

He glanced around, but he was in an empty room.

I’ll hide in the tube, then,
he told himself. But the plastic duct was too narrow. Even if he managed to climb into it in time, his shoulders would cause the tube to bulge. He’d be discovered instantly if anyone came to investigate.

Then it’s back into the metal duct
They thought, still feeling amazingly calm.

He stood—his legs did still work, after all—and reached up.

The bottom of the metal duct was a good two feet above his fingertips. He had nothing to stand on, he couldn’t jump that high—there was no way out

And he could hear footsteps coming his way.

Chapter Twenty

Know what I think that
noise
was?” a second voice called out. “Mice. Or rats, maybe. Hey, tell you what. You run back there and
flush
them out, drive them straight toward my cage, and I’ll catch them with my bare hands. I’ve done it before. Ever had rat roasted on an open flame? Mmm—mmm. Delicious.”

It was Mark’s voice, sounding twangier and more hickish than ever. Trey’s knees went weak with relief.

But so what?
Trey reminded himself.
That just means the two of us will be imprisoned together.

The footsteps stopped.

“I am a master guard in the Population Police,” the first voice snapped. “I don’t eat rats.”

“Hey, hey, didn’t mean to insult you,” Mark said. “I should have thought about who I was talking to. I ain’t used to being around fancy officials and all. It probably ain’t rats, or mice, nohow. Not here. Not some highfalutin place like this.”

“Hmmph,” the guard said. But, miraculously, he didn’t continue walking toward Trey’s room. Instead, he muttered, “No funny business.” And then his footsteps began to retreat Trey thought, by the way they echoed, that he might even be climbing stairs.

Trey exhaled very slowly He took another deep breath, then tiptoed to a doorway that seemed to lead out into the rest of the basement. Feeling ridiculously brave, he peeked around the corner.

Mark was, indeed, crouched inside a cage, out in the middle of the floor. The cage was small—Mark couldn’t have stood up in it. Trey had the impression that the cage wasn’t even meant for humans. It was like the Population Police were just improvising, using whatever they could find lying around at the Grants’.

Will that make it easier for me to set him free?
Trey wondered.

The guard wasn’t anywhere in sight now, but Mark’s cage was directly under a large, glaring overhead light
I’ll wait until they turn that out,
Trey thought
Then I’ll creep nearby.
A pile of boxes stood behind the cage. Trey could hide there.

Trey’s plans were shaping up nicely. The only problem was, what were he and Mark going to do after Trey released him? If they had time to slide a stack of boxes over under the broken metal duct. . . if they could do it quietly. . . if the boxes were sturdy enough to climb on. . . if they were able to climb back up the duct. . .if everything fell into place, he and Mark would be safe.

Trey didn’t like dealing with so many ifs, but he didn’t think he had a choice. He sat back, waiting until the light went out

Instead, after just a few minutes, the guard called down, “Prisoner, prepare to be interrogated.”

Trey grimaced, remembering the conversation he’d overheard earlier.
We’re just keeping that prisoner here until we finish our interrogation. Then we’ll dispose of him. It won’t be more than a few more hours.
What if he didn’t have time to rescue Mark before they took him away? How much time had Trey already lost wandering around in the heat ducts?

Trey glanced around the corner into the next room once more. And then, before he had time to reconsider, he dashed out and slipped between the pile of boxes and the wall.

Trey ran as silently as possible, but Mark saw him. And positively beamed.

Then he had to erase the smile from his face. Footsteps were coming down the stairs toward them. They ducked behind the boxes. A small gap between them gave him a narrow view of Mark’s cage. Trey saw a Population Police officer striding toward Mark. The chest of the officer’s uniform was completely covered with medals. Trey had a feeling that this guy ranked a lot higher than the guard.

“Explain why you were trying to sneak into our headquarters,” the officer snapped at Mark.

“We-ell, see, I didn’t actually know it was your headquarters,” Mark said, drawing out his words to make himself sound slow and stupid. “And I weren’t trying to sneak in.”

Mark sounded so dumb and innocent, Trey had to smile. Who would have guessed Mark would be such a great actor?

“I was just out in the woods looking for food when I seen the fence,” Mark continued. “I didn’t know nothing about this place ‘cept it belonged to somebody rich. Wouldn’t have even come near the fence, ‘cepting that this squirrel, see, he run right under the barbed wire. And I was chasing him so hard, I didn’t never think about it being a problem, me stepping past that fence. I wasn’t hurting nothing. And then—zap! That’s the last thing I remember until I woke up here. So how about it? How about setting me free so I can go get that squirrel?”

The Population Police officer snorted.

“Hunting is a violation of numerous governmental codes. Do you realize you’ve just confessed to a serious crime?”

Mark hung his head.

“Yes, sir,” he said. “Now I do. But it weren’t like I had a gun or nothing—just a bow and arrow. And I was awful hungry.”

“Didn’t you know the Population Police offered food to anyone who joined up—them and their families?” the officer asked.

“No, sir,” Mark said. “Ain’t never heard that. Can I still do it? Where do I go to join up? I’d be a good employee. And it’d just be me you’d have to feed—my main and pap passed on near about five year ago, and I ain’t got no brother or sister or other kin at all.”

The officer regarded Mark in silence. Then he asked, "What happened to your bow and arrow?”

Mark blinked at him.

“Well, shoot,” he said. “I don’t know. Reckon I must have dropped it when that fence zapped me.” His face brightened. “Hey, I know. You go find my bow and arrow. Then you’ll know I’m telling the truth.”

The officer narrowed his eyes, as if suspecting a trap. Then he seemed to decide that Mark wasn’t smart enough to try a trap.

“I’m
not about to go traipsing out there in the woods looking for your illegal weapons,” the officer said indignantly “But—I’ll send one of my men after it Then maybe we’ll just see what to do about you.”

And he turned on his heel and walked away.

Trey stayed hidden until he was sure the officer had climbed the stairs again. Then he poked his head out.

“Wow, Mark, how’d you know he’d fall for that?” Trey whispered.

“It was written all over his face, that he was dying to go order someone around. And that he thought I was dumber than pond slime. I thought about what you’d said about grammar, and I turned it around—I was saying ‘ain’t’ on purpose, you know.”

“I know,” Trey said.

“So I bought us some time, but I don’t know how much. I can always say somebody must have stolen the bow and arrow if he comes back soon. But I hope it don’t come to that—how about getting me out of here now?”

“Okay, okay,” Trey muttered. He slipped out from behind the boxes. Squinting in the glare—and terrified of being so exposed—They felt around for some sort of latch to release the door of the cage.

But the cage didn’t have a latch. It was fastened with a thick lock

“Mark—I’d need a key—,” Trey sputtered.

“No you don’t,” Mark said soothingly. “Just some pliers or wire cutters—even a piece of bent wire to pick the lock”

“Where am I supposed to get that?” Trey asked.

“This is a basement, isn’t it? Look around!”

Trey retreated to his boxes, figuring he could at least stay partially hidden while he looked there. The first box held table linens. The one beside it held china wrapped in layers and layers of thin crinkly paper.

“Trey?” Mark whispered. “Thanks for coming to get me. I never in a million years thought you’d be so brave. I thought I was on my own.”

“I haven’t saved you yet,” Trey said through gritted teeth. He was on the third box, which held more tablecloths.

“How’d you get down here?” Mark asked.

Quickly, talking as he searched, Trey told him. Mark gave a soft, admiring whistle.

“You joined the Population Police?” he asked. “You crawled through heat ducts past
Aldous Krakenaur?
I had you figured all wrong. You’re the bravest kid I know!”

Trey didn’t have time to get puffed up with pride. He was on the last box in the stack. This one was full of fancy crystal vases.

Panic-stricken, he looked around. Were there boxes in some other part of the basement? Wouldn’t the Grants have had
something
useful down here?

But the boxes and Mark’s cage were the only things in the entire basement

Trey fought to hide his fear from Mark. He tugged on the lock as if he thought he could break it with his bare hands. Mark saw.

“Oh,” Mark said, and turned his face away “Maybe—,” Trey said, but he didn’t have a plan to suggest.

Just then they heard footsteps on the stairs again. Trey dove behind the boxes once more, just before the Population Police official burst around the corner.

“You were not hungry,” the official snarled at Mark “How do you explain this?”

He held something out to Mark. Trey couldn’t tell what it was at first, but when he shifted his position and saw what was dangling from the official’s hand, it was all he could do not to gasp.

The official was holding the knapsack Mark had carried from the truck. It was the knapsack Mark had put down right before he’d tried to crawl through the barbed-wire fence, the knapsack Trey had kicked away in disgust.

The knapsack full of food.

“What do you mean, ‘How do you explain this?’” Mark asked. “I’ve never seen that before in my life. What is it?”

But his voice shook, and he’d waited a second too long in answering. It was all too clear that he
had
seen that knapsack before. That it belonged to him.

The official slowly loosened the knapsack’s strings and began pulling out its contents. A box of raisins. A bag of peanuts. An apple. Two apples. Three. Potatoes. Bananas. Peaches. Cereal.

“I’ll ask you again,” the official said. “Why were you trying to sneak into Population Police headquarters?”

“I wasn’t,” Mark said. But his voice was even weaker now. The most gullible fool in the world wouldn’t have believed him.

“You were,” the official said calmly. He seemed to be relishing his role. “And now I will pronounce your sentence. You will be executed at dawn.”

Mark gasped. Trey reeled backward, hitting the wall. He barely managed to avoid crying out in pain. This was all his fault Why had he kicked that knapsack and then just left it behind? Why hadn’t he taken it with him, or hidden it somewhere safe?