Unfallen (3 page)

The laurel hedge on this side wasn’t clipped back as hard, and when I squeezed between it and the neighbor’s fence I could almost imagine Rob coming this way. How had he just
vanished
? And gotten away from the cherubs, too.

I took the same route as the last time I’d run away, the time that got me sent to Temple. It kept me off the street where the Myrmidon electro SUVs crouched, at least. I cut through backyards, climbed a few fences, and was shivering at the Redeem Avenue and 143
^rd
bus stop an hour later. It was far enough away that they might not be watching.

Or at least, I hoped.

I had a roll of cash from Father’s office; at least I’d beaten Irv to
that
. So I got a protein drink from a vending machine and spent the day in the Coughlin Park bushes like a heathen pervert, trying to figure out if I should move around so it was harder to track me or stay where I was.

I’ll find you
, Rob had said. I was hoping he would.
Anytime after two
, he’d said. Well, if he got here early I could warn him. Maybe he’d still let me go with him, even if I told him I was a filthy Judas who’d clued the Myrmidons in.

I wasn’t really hoping he would. But if I screwed up their plans good enough, they’d send me to a Center, and there’s things you can do there. You can even Rechristen yourself if you want to. It just takes shaking off the nerves long enough to throw yourself at the wall. Or slicing your arm with some of the craft supplies. Or drinking some of the floor cleaner.

By now Mom was Rechristened. If I’d fed her the pills, she wouldn’t have felt a thing when they did…what they did. It might’ve even ruined the organs they’d harvest.

Coughlin had a couple playgrounds, eerily empty because of Sunday. When the sun came out it was still deserted, since it was too early for worship to let out. I shivered and watched the trees drip, wished I could go get on the swings or—

“Julie.” A whisper-yell, behind me. “Hey.”

I leaped and almost shrieked, clapped my hand over my mouth just in time. Whirled to find Rob standing at the edge of the cluster of rhododendrons I was crouching in like an idiot.

Just standing there, right on the concrete path, grinning.

“You’re early,” he said, and it was like a shout in the quiet.

I got my wits together. “They know. Rob, they were—they know I was supposed to meet you here.” My heart pounded, thinly.

“That’s okay.” He actually shrugged. “I expected as much; they had you under some pretty tight watch. Come on.”

“I ratted on you. I told the Myrmidons.” Did he not
understand
?

“It’s
okay
, Julie. They’re like that. They used your mom, didn’t they.”

It wasn’t hard to figure out, because I’d told him a bit about my mom. It would make sense that she was the only thing anyone could use on me, really.

But I still felt creeped out. “Rob—”

“Come
on
. I’m not gonna ask again.”

I scrambled out of the bushes, hauling my duffel with me. He grinned when he saw it, dark eyes lighting up. “You came prepared. That’s awesome. This way. We’re going up to the Lookout.”

“They might already be here.” I couldn’t make my voice work right. What came out was a breathy little gasp.

“Not yet.” He sounded very sure. “But they’re on their way.”

Up at the top of Coughlin was the Lookout, a parking lot for electrocars and a split-rail fence along the wide paved path to keep people from falling off the cliff while they took in the view of the city’s simmering wasteland of little white houses and the steel glitter of the skyscrapers in the distance, each with their cross on top. The drop probably wouldn’t kill you, but you’d definitely end up broken bad enough to get Rechristened and harvested. The fog was lifting, golden sunshine breaking through, and I jumped at every noise. There were no cars—everyone was at worship for at least another half hour.

Everyone except the Myrmidons.

Rob seemed to know right where he was going. I followed, hauling my duffel, but halfway to the lookout he dropped back to walk beside me and reached over, grabbing the straps. I let go and he carried it, as simple as that.

“I’m sorry.” I had to hurry to keep up; he was going at a good clip with those long legs of his. “Really, I am. I—”

“It had to happen, Julie. You wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t happened.”

“You’re trying to say you knew?”

“Kind of. In a way. It’s hard to explain.”

“If you knew, why didn’t you stop them?”

“It wasn’t time. Now it is.”

“You’re
crazy
.”

“Well, I grew up going to worship four times a week. If I’m crazy that’s probably why.”

I laughed before I could stop myself. He glanced at me sidelong and looked pleased.

He hopped up on the curb and headed along the path. I followed, looking nervously down at the city. The fog was peeling back, and those patches of blue in the sky weren’t hopeful. Sooner or later a cherub would spot us. “Where are we going?”

“I’m gonna show you something. We’re almost there.” We came to the highest promontory, and he stopped, looking over the valley and the city. “Okay. You remember what I told you? At Temple?”

That’s not the sort of thing someone forgets.
“Yeah.”

“Did you tell the Myrmidons about that?”

What, you don’t know about that?
“I told them you were gonna go south, head over the border and live with the indentureds. That you wanted me to go with you. We’d Adam and Eve it in a vine-covered shack down there.”

Was he blushing? A little, maybe. “So you didn’t tell them I’m…what I am?”

“Of
course
not.”
They wouldn’t have believed me.

“Good. Come on.” He walked right up to the rail and stepped over, carefully, the shimmering city spread out below him. I actually gasped.

“You could
fall
!” Then I felt like a moron. We were looking at Myrmidons showing up any second, and there would be a hard silver glitter in the sky before long, and—

“I won’t let you fall. Come on, Julie. It’s either me or the Myrmidons.”

Well, when he put it that way, it seemed kind of stupid-obvious.

It was a struggle to get over without my skirt riding up and showing
everything
, but I managed. He transferred the duffel to his right hand, offered me his left. “Here. Don’t let go.”

Our fingers threaded together, and he pulled me along. I shut my eyes, stumbling over grassy hillocks, tripping on stone. If we were going to fall and break our stupid legs and get Rechristened, I didn’t want to see.

My fingers were sweating again. I kept my eyelids squeezed shut so hard traceries of color exploded behind them. The ground evened out, became level. It gave, weirdly resilient underfoot.

“Okay.” Rob let out a long breath. “Julie. Open your eyes.”

I don’t want to.
But I did. And I screamed, sound and breath leaving me in a walloping rush.

Because we stood on empty air, twenty feet out from Coughlin’s cliff-edge, the city in the distance sending up spirals of smoke now visible through the fog. There was
nothing
under our feet. The eerie silence broke, and sirens threaded through the sunlight. Little silver streaks poured down from the sky.

The cherubs were falling. Tires screeched in the lot behind us as the Myrmidons arrived. Two of the electrocars kept going, bumping up on the curb and smashing through the fence, throwing themselves off the cliff because the drivers had disappeared.

They fell. We didn’t.

And Rob didn’t let go of my hand.

We walked right through the Myrmidons.

They didn’t see us. They kept yelling at each other, spreading out through Coughlin Park. Some of them had vanished. There were neat little piles of clothes left behind, nothing else.

The buses were still running, and so were some transports—the ones that had preprogrammed controllers instead of drivers. We took the 71 to the edge of town, the dilapidated lectrotrain station full of people staring at telescreens. The news was incredible.

It was chaos. Some transports had crashed, their pilots vanished. Every kid under the age of sixteen was gone. Lots of adults, but none of the Elders, and Pastor Pete was all over the airwaves ranting about something or another. Plenty of heathens were gone, lots of indentureds, most everyone who had been sent for derezzing, pretty much everyone in Holy Camps or Reeducation Centers. All they left behind was their clothes, as if they’d just stepped out of them. Fires and looting all over the place, people screaming, sobbing, or standing with tears running down their faces. Pastor Peter kept going, ranting about the End Times.

Well,
duh
.

Rob got us on a train. Nobody bothered to check us for tickets. We sat in a first-class compartment as it pulled smoothly out of the station on its programmed track, another brand of eerie quiet closing over us. Sunshine poured over the world, but a pall of smoke was rising from the city. The cherubs were still falling out of the sky, and I hoped one wouldn’t hit the train.

Somehow, I didn’t think it would.

Rob stared out the window, tapping his fingers on his knee, his jeans ripped and his T-shirt a little torn, just an average thin-tall kid with a shock of dark messy hair and dark eyes. He wasn’t grinning now.

I was having some trouble breathing. I kept looking down at our hands. He hadn’t let go yet. The lectrotrain lurched and I bent forward, my fingers cramping-tight, and tried to put my head on my knees.

“Hey. Oh, shit. Julie? You okay?”

I am not okay. How can you be okay with something like this?
“I dunno,” I said into my plaid skirt. “That’s…it. It’s happened. It’s
real
. Really real.”

“Well, I told you so.” But his other hand was on my head. He was petting my hair, and it was so awkward it made it a little easier to get some air in. “It’s okay, Julie. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Well, that’s comforting. Except I have a little trouble believing it.
“We’re going to Hell,” I moaned into my skirt. I’m amazed he heard me.

“It’s better than Holy Camp.” A short, nasty laugh, sounded like it hurt. “They’re gonna
pay
. Everyone who’s left.”

It rose up inside me. I sat up like someone had poked me with a sharp stick. “Christ have mercy, Rob, we’ve both been through Dogma a million times. You know what happens!”

“I know what
they
say happens. There’s a Bible on the other side, too.” His free hand hung in the air, like he wanted to touch me but wasn’t sure he should. “It says different stuff. I’ve
seen
it.”

That just about floored me. The air went out of me again, and I bent over. This time little black spots danced in front of my eyes before Rob whomped me on the back with his free hand. I sucked in enough air to scream, decided against it.

When I could manage it, I sat up again. My brain was clicking like metal balls, shuddering inside my skull. “No.
No
. Nuh-uh. No way.”

He got real quiet, stared at me instead of the window. Just a kid, except there was a pinprick of red way far back in those black pupils.

It didn’t scare me.

Much.

But my throat was kind of dry. “So each side has their Bible and they both say different things. Where does that leave us, huh? I’m guessing either way it ends pretty badly.”

He shrugged, pointed shoulders coming up, and for a moment it was like being at Holy Camp again, sneaking away with him to sit and talk aimlessly. I wished I had a smoke. But he was listening. Hard.

I couldn’t hold his hand any tighter. I was losing feeling in my fingers. But I didn’t ease up. “Let’s just get out. Go somewhere. South, north, somewhere there’s not a lot of people. Just get away and stay away. They can’t do any of this without you, can they?”

He thought this over, chewing on his lower lip. “It might not work. I mean, I’m the Antichrist. You just don’t retire from that, or—”

“They can’t do anything
to
you, though. So you just let it go. Let them do whatever they want to each other as long as they leave us out of it. Right? Or do you want to be a camp counselor instead of a kid? You want to be the one peeking through the cherubs and sending the Myrmidons around?” Why couldn’t I say exactly what I wanted to? This was
important
. Frustration boiled up inside me. “It’s the same thing, whether it’s you or them doing it. Why not just derez ourselves right out? Just you and me. Do something better. Why not?”

“It…” His mouth worked.

I couldn’t believe this hadn’t occurred to him before. “
Seriously
. The cherubs are gone, the Myrmidons didn’t see us, what’s to say we weren’t disappeared with the rest of them? And as for…as for the rest, God and all that, they can’t
make
you, can they? What can they do to you? A big fat nothing, right? Let them have their big war or whatever without you. See how far they get.”

His fingers loosened a little. “If I…” He licked his lips, glanced away at the window like a cherub might be watching, and shook his head. Glared at me. “If I do, will you stick with me? Promise?”

Well, who else do I have? Uncle Irving? Don’t make me laugh. Mattie? If she’s not derezzed over the border then she’s probably vanished.
“I promise. I like you, Rob. I really do.”

“Really?” He looked about three years old, and hopeful. It was hard to believe he was…what he said he was. The red pinpricks in his pupils were gone.

“Really.” Our fingers loosened. I was glad, because my hand was sweating something awful and my whole arm was threatening to cramp up. “I’m hungry. Are you hungry? They prolly have vendings.”

“Starving.” He looked like it, too. “Julie, what if they try to make me do it?”

“Then we never really had a chance and it’s all been a game.” I found out my legs would work and pushed myself up. The train’s smooth rollicking turned into a rhythm. I didn’t even know where we were going.