Exodia (15 page)

His mistake. A concealed man lunged
from behind the tree and clubbed the guard, grabbed a startled
Dalton, and pulled him behind the line of horses and out of
Kassandra’s sight.

Flor’s soft voice whispered near her
ear, “Was that Dalton? What’s happening? Are they going to kill
him?”

Kassandra shushed her sister. “Go back
to sleep. Everything will be fine.” She worked her way upright,
keeping Gresham nestled to her side. When she stood all the way up
she grabbed Dalton’s old backpack with her free hand. It had what
she needed: diapers, of course, but also money for bribes, and that
old nano-gun her father had banned from their home when Dalton
came. She had intended to sell it at the TM to buy baby clothes.
She had no idea how to use it, but if she could get it to Dalton
maybe they could make their escape.

She didn’t even look back at her
sisters and mother as she sneaked off toward the line of
horses.

“
Not without my son.” She
heard Dalton’s soft voice stuttering out an answer to someone. A
current of jealousy ripped through her heart. She peeked around the
first horse and saw the round-faced guard with his hands on both of
Dalton’s shoulders, not like he was holding him forcefully, but
more like a father trying to talk some sense into a
child.

The guard whispered back, “I’ll make
sure your family escapes once we get to Exodia. There are places in
the Red slum they can hide, then blend in.” He took his hands off
Dalton and pulled something out of his pocket and held it out for
Dalton. “Take this. It’s a map to Ronel’s first outpost. You get
there and they’ll take you the rest of the way.”

Dalton was still shaking his head, but
said nothing.

“
Listen, there are just too
many in your family. You’ll be missed right away and they’ll send
troops out after you, but if only one is gone no one will notice in
the morning.”

Kassandra stepped out and startled both
men. Dalton grabbed her to his side before the guard had a chance
to unholster his gun.

“
My wife,” he said, “and
son.” He took the backpack and slung it over his shoulder, tucked
the map into his belt sack, and raised his left hand to his ear
with his elbow pointing out. The soldier matched the
gesture.

A cry arose, but not from the baby.
Flor’s voice screamed loud and frantic, calling out her sister’s
name. Shouts from other guards followed, whips cracked, and women
woke to join the screams.

“
This way,” the round-faced
guard pointed left and guided them away from the ruckus and down a
spongy path. Their feet made sucking sounds until they reached the
woods.

The advantage of the dark night was
also its drawback. They stumbled down the deer trail, tripping on
roots and pushing branches away. Gresham awoke and began to bawl
like a kitten. Kassandra pressed him into the soft flesh of her
breast, muffling him, nearly smothering him.

They came out of the woods onto a
narrow road where a rusty brown ’49 Sony Solar Beast two-seater sat
ready to go.

“
Can you drive?” the soldier
asked Dalton. “You have an hour’s worth of power, so get as far
from here as you can, park and wait for dawn.”

Dalton opened the passenger door for
Kassandra then nodded at the soldier. His lips started and stopped
and finally he just stuck his elbow out again and said
nothing.

“
You’re our hope, Dalton
Battista. You must get to Ronel.”

The soldier pressed his elbow against
Dalton’s, handed him a starter button, turned and ran
back.

Chapter 9 Listen to the
Voice

From the fourth page of the
Ledger:

He witnessed the misery of
his people, the slavery and oppression, but still he ran away. Then
he saw the burning building.

I PRESS THE starter button into the
matching indentation on the dashboard. There is a quiet hum and the
headlights pop on and the safety restraints move into place.
Kassandra is surprised; she has never ridden in a car
before.

“
Do you know how to work
it?” she says.

“
Of course,” I answer. It
can’t be that hard. I press my foot on the floor control and we
lurch forward. The car automatically adjusts and straightens out. I
hold onto the steering wheel and quickly get a feel for it and
we’re off. We cover the first half mile much faster than we
should.

Gresham fusses again and Kassandra
works herself and him free of the restraints and lifts her shirt.
The car auto-corrects when I accidentally veer to the right too
much. I increase the pressure on the speed control and we hit a
bump that makes Kassandra cry out.

“
Oh!”

“
Sorry.”

“
It’s okay. So, what did
that soldier say to you? Are we going to get help? Will the map
take us home? Who can help us?”

She sounds like her
inquisitive younger sister. I think of Flor and wonder if her
screams were just the right diversion for us. I think of Sana who
would have taken Kassandra’s last question and turned it into a
prophecy. I see the words
who can help
us
and they change in my mind to
own place hush
.

“
He said the map would take
us to Ronel’s first outpost, but I think … I think we should go to
our own place.” I glance over to see my son squirming against
Kassandra, trying to latch onto her, and emitting hungry mewling
sounds. “Hush,” I add.

“
But my sisters … my
parents. What about them?”

“
You heard what he said.
He’ll help them escape, too.”

“
Why should he? He’s one of
them. Those awful Blues.”

“
No he’s not. Many of the
soldiers are Reds. They’re forced into service. First to fight,
first to die.” I adjust the speed and keep my eyes on the road as
it widens and we cross over a slight rise. “He’s part of the
rebellion, the secret resistance.” I don’t tell her how I used to
train alongside older Reds, thinking I was better because I was
always matched against boys two or three years older. I hadn’t
noticed there were no Reds my age.

“
Are we really going home?”
she says. There’s relief in her voice, but also fear. And guilt.
The tiny car’s interior is choked with it.

I feel a tug at my
conscience. I mumble a quick
yes
and neither of us speaks for a while. I remember
how I felt leaving Exodia with Lydia and Barrett, the ledger papers
in my belt sack, a goal before me. A purpose for my life. But I’m
reluctant to be that hero and even though I started to read the
ledger papers the first night I stayed with Kassandra I can’t make
myself read them all.

I fumble one-handed with the sack,
trying to open it, glancing between it and the road. The ledger
papers are hidden at home, the only paper in this sack is the map
the soldier gave me. I let go of the wheel for an instant to use
both hands.

“
Here,” I say to Kassandra.
“Try to read the map. See if you can figure out the way
home.”

I press the dome light and it sends a
weak beam toward her lap, much less effective than the ones in the
vehicles my grandfather used. But it’s enough so she can
see.

I’m patient for maybe four minutes.
It’s stifling hot in the car and we haven’t bathed in
days.

We come to a crossroads and it’s dark
in all directions. I stop the car and figure out a way to keep it
from inching forward.

“
Let me see.” I peer over at
the map and I see why she’s been so quiet. The map is crudely drawn
with lines and arrows and scribbled names like
rusted
bus
and
roofless house
and
abandoned town
. Measurements are noted with
hour by
horse, hour by foot,
or
hour by car
. I study it for a few
minutes until I understand. Ronel’s new outpost is only a short
walk north of the abandoned town, which, I’m pretty certain, is our
own secret town.

I point it out for Kassandra. “Home,” I
say.

We’ll go there first, care for the
sheep, make a plan, look for the outpost later. Or not at
all.

I set the map between us and get the
Beast moving again. I wonder about the commotion we left behind. I
hope that Flor is not being punished, that she knows to say nothing
about a missing sister and nephew. I’m surprised by how well
Kassandra is coping. Her attention is riveted on our son and she
seems to have accepted our circumstances. A thought jolts through
my mind: she is denying her family as I have denied mine. If I
judge her for it I judge myself.

* * *

Kassandra keeps her eyes down as I
maneuver the car onto a dirt road and up a hill. The baby nursed on
and off for nearly an hour. For sixteen days straight, since the
baby was born, we’ve both been sleep-deprived, but she hasn’t
complained. I’m sure she’s thirsty now, but there’s nothing I can
do about it.

I focus on finding a clear spot where
we can park. I’ll need to let the solar car power up when the sun
rises in the morning.

“
This should work,” I say as
we reach the top of the hill. I pop the starter button out and the
engine dies. I’m not sure if that’s the best way to kill the
engine, but no one ever taught me this skill. The headlights fade
and we sit in silence letting our eyes adjust.

“
We can get out and stretch
if you want.”

Kassandra shakes her head. “I’d rather
sleep a while if I can.”

“
Okay, but I’m going to take
a look around. Make sure it’s safe here.”

I open my door and extend my cramped
legs. I’m as tired as Kassandra, but I won’t sleep until I inspect
this area. And look for water. I circle the car once and walk a
little farther away in ever widening loops.

It won’t be long before dawn comes. The
early birds are already starting their choruses. I focus on a
particular sound and walk in that direction.

* * *

I hear a voice crying. I’m sure it’s
neither Gresham nor Kassandra. It’s a man’s voice. I suddenly
remember my nanny and the time we went to that house with the kids
and the man. The man who cried.

I take a cautious step in the direction
of the sound. The ground gives way and I tumble down the hill,
catch my foot on something and slam into a tree. I’m mad at myself
and glad that no one can see me. At least I’m still standing. I
turn to start back up the hill, but I slip on wet leaves and down I
go. I roll six, seven, maybe ten feet until the edge of something
stops me. It’s cold and hard and damp. I pat the mossy side of it
and finger its top. Only a couple of feet tall. A concrete
foundation.

I follow the edge of it around to an
opening and in this pre-dawn darkness I discover its purpose: a
garage, its walls and roof neatly dismantled after the Suppression
and used elsewhere, no doubt, or burned as fuel. I see no sign of a
house though. I continue down the hill further until I can’t see
the solar car anymore even though the light is steadily
increasing.