Away

Table of Contents

 

 

 

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Copyright © 2011 by Teri Hall

 

All rights reserved

The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any
responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

 

This is a work of fiction. All the names, characters, places, organizations, and events portrayed in this book
are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously to lend a sense of realism to the story.

 

 

 

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Hall, Teri.

Away / Teri Hall.
p. cm.

Sequel to: The Line.

Summary: After helping heal Malgam, Rachel learns that her father is still living in the devastated territory of Away but has been captured by another clan, who are planning to use him to make a deal with the government on the other side of the Line, and she joins the daring rescue party that must risk much to save him.

ISBN : 978-1-101-52944-7

[1. Science fiction. 2. Rescues—Fiction. 3. Survival—Fiction. 4. Government, Resistance to—Fiction.] I. Title.

PZ7.H14874Aw 2011 [Fic]—dc22 2011001163

CHAPTER 1

A
WAKE, RACHEL?” PATHIK appeared, as he had for the last three mornings, holding two steaming cups of a bitter beverage the Others called root brew. He handed one to Rachel and sat down next to her. He looked weary, but he had looked that way for the whole of their short acquaintance.

She was
barely
awake, huddled on a crudely carved log that served as a bench, as close to the camp's central fire as she could get. During the six-day hike from the Line to Pathik's base camp, Rachel had begun to believe she would never be warm again. Though it was far from luxurious, the central fire pit had become one of her favorite places in camp.

She wrapped both hands around the dented metal cup and blew on the hot liquid, wishing for some kalitea, sweetened with sugar, served up in one of Ms. Moore's fine china cups. The cup she held now looked like it had been around for decades, yet it was one of the most modern things—at least of those still in one piece—that she had seen since she arrived Away. Everywhere she looked something mutely testified to the way time had just stopped here. The few buildings left standing were shells, with empty rooms and blown-out windows. There was no running water or heat. The lighting was provided by candles or oil. When the bombs went off all those years ago and Away was born, the activation of the Line cut off much more than a way back home for these people. It cut off any sort of access to technology. The forebears of the group that lived in this camp had had to figure out how to survive. Rachel was amazed they had managed it.

“Any change?” Rachel tried to read Pathik's expression for news of his father, Malgam. He was the reason she had Crossed the Line; he'd fallen ill and the camp healer couldn't help him. She'd helped Pathik bring medicine that the Others didn't have.

“Indigo said his fever broke last night. He's going to be okay, I think.” Pathik spoke quietly; most of the camp's inhabitants were still sleeping.

Indigo was Pathik's grandfather, Malgam's father. Rachel had seen his face many times before she actually met him; Ms. Moore, the lady for whom Rachel's mother, Vivian, worked, had had a framed digim of him on her mantel. But the man in the digim was much younger looking, and his hair had been a rich brown color. Somehow, Rachel had expected Indigo to look just like the digim, though it had been taken many years ago. When she first saw him on the night they arrived in camp, she was shocked at how his brown hair was now all silvery gray.

His eyes were the same, though—an intense, bottomless blue. When Indigo had looked at her the evening they arrived in camp, when he had thanked her for bringing the antibiotics Malgam needed, she felt like his eyes saw
inside
her. His smile shone through the worry she could see in his face and made her feel like he approved of her somehow.

“Do you know where my father is?” she had asked. She hadn't been able to help it, though she knew she should wait, knew that he needed to focus on his son.

“Your father?” He had tilted his head down at her, confused.

“She has a digim of Daniel.” Pathik had whispered the words so the rest of the group gathered around the fire that night couldn't hear. “She showed it to me.” He lowered his voice even more. “She says he's her father.”

Indigo's eyes had widened then, but he hadn't answered her question.

“We will talk,” he had said gently, “later.” He had rushed away then, to tend to his son, but something lingered in her, some sense that he was an ally. It was a comforting balm in the midst of the confusion of that night—her first night in the Others' camp. She hadn't spoken to him again since then. She'd been waiting, catching glimpses of him as he went to tend to Malgam, but there had been no opportunity to speak to him.

“Morning, Jab.” Pathik's voice brought Rachel back to the present, back to the chilly morning air and the smoke tendrilling toward her face. She looked up and saw Jab, one of the Others who had been with Pathik when he made his trek to the Line in search of medicine. He was holding his own cup of root brew, shivering.

“Have a seat.” Pathik patted the log next to him. Jab glanced at Rachel and sat down.

“Morning,” said Jab. He stared straight ahead at the fire.

Rachel was glad Pathik sat between them, though she knew that would provide no protection if Jab decided to use his gift again, like he had the day she Crossed. She remembered the pain, that hot flash in her temple, coming from nowhere. She and Pathik had just arrived at the temporary camp where Jab and Kinec, Pathik's trek companions, waited. Rachel had been shocked that she had actually Crossed, and was just beginning to realize that she might never be able to Cross back, that she might never see her mother again. But she hadn't yet thought to
fear
the Others, despite all the net books she had read about them, each filled with a more spectacular horror story than the last. When Pathik told her that Jab had caused the pain she felt, she realized that she knew nothing of them, not really. For the first time she had felt afraid of what the Others—even Pathik—might be capable of doing.

Rachel felt the faintest pang of that same fear when she saw Jab approach the fire. She knew that there had been a council meeting the night before to decide what punishment Jab would get for using his gift on her. It was forbidden for Others, at least the Others in Pathik's camp, to use their gifts without careful consideration.

“What's the verdict of the council?” Pathik didn't have to elaborate on his question; Jab knew what he meant.

“I'm to formally apologize.” Jab kept his eyes on the campfire as he spoke. “To the camp and to her.”

“That's all?” Pathik didn't sound pleased. “That's all they expect from you?”

Jab shrugged. “That and I'm to dredge all the common waste pots for the
entire
winter.”

“Ha!” Pathik laughed. Emptying waste pots was drudgery. He was in charge of that chore for his household, so he knew it wasn't fun. But to have to do all the common pots, located throughout camp, for the entire winter? That would be a nightmare.

“Serves you right, Jab, and you know it.”

Jab shrugged again. He leaned forward so he could see past Pathik, and waited until Rachel turned to look at him. “I do apologize,” he said.

“Not good enough, Jab.” Pathik's voice gained an edge.

Rachel knew that Pathik could tell whether Jab was sincere by using his gift; he could sense what others were feeling.
She
could tell without any gift at all that Jab didn't mean a word of his apology, but she didn't really care.

“It's fine,” she said, turning away from Jab. She didn't want to prolong the interaction with him.

“Rachel.” Pathik's voice was softer now. He waited for her to look at him. When she did, he continued. “It's not fine. He hurt you.” Pathik held her gaze for a moment, but then color infused his cheeks and he dropped his eyes. Rachel was glad he had looked down first; something in the look they exchanged had made her feel . . .
feelings
; feelings she didn't want to think about right now. She hoped Pathik wasn't aware of them; his gift might make that possible.

“A
formal
apology, Jab,” said Pathik. “As the council decreed.”

Jab groaned, but he stood up. He walked over and stood in front of Rachel, staring at her feet. She eyed him warily. He looked miserable.

“I am shamed by my actions.” Jab hesitated. He heaved a huge sigh.

“I regret . . .” Pathik prompted.

“I
know,
” hissed Jab, rolling his eyes. “I regret the harm I have caused. I apologize to you, Rachel Quillen. Will you name reparations?”