Zoo (30 page)

Whatever, I have better things to worry over
right now than what secrets Kansas is keeping. I pull the Keeper’s
white suit over my Victorian undergarments and novel that’s still
strapped to my back. The suit will help protect me from assailants
and embarrassment. Kale pulls his coveralls on as well, and we
thank them for the generous gift.

As we prepare to continue on our journey to
freedom, I gather Victoria up in my arms and wish her luck. I will
miss my little, crafty friend. Kale leaves her with well wishes,
and we say our goodbyes to Kansas one last time before sneaking out
the back door. She smiles as she watches us leave.

Unfortunately, we now have
huge targets painted on, well, our whole bodies.
Everyone
except the
“bad” Keepers will want us dead.

BULLETS FLYING EVERYWHERE

The second we leave the
protection of Kansas’ house, a man in a cowboy hat and blue jeans
jumps out from behind a fallen air-train (as I’ve finally decided
to call them). It’s not the same cowboy as before, but he looks
just as crazy. Behind him, I can see people huddled up inside the
futuristic vehicle. The watchers are now inside our hell with us. A
week ago this would have given me satisfaction, but now in the
middle of this rebellion, I feel sorry for them. No one should be
here in this mess, and I mean
no
one
.

So anyway, the cowboy fires his six-shooter
at us, and I instinctively raise my gun to fire back at him, but I
stop short. His bullets fall to the ground instead of hitting us. I
hurriedly say to Kale, “Oh my goodness! Kale, we can’t shoot these
people. They’re trying to get out, just like us. They think we’re
Keepers.”

“
You’re right” He looks
down at his gun and shoves it into a pocket—much like a kangaroo
pouch—on the belly of the suit. This frees up his hands, so I do
the same. Then we run straight for the steep climb up and out of
the valley, for freedom, and our new-old lives.

***

It’s a strange sensation being shot at and
having each and every bullet bounce off you like it can’t get away
fast enough. In the short amount of time it’s taken us to get from
Kansas’ house to halfway up the cliff, we’ve become arrogant. It’s
like back in my old life, when I never even thought about the
possibility that my actions could get me killed. Stupid phone
showed me.

So while the suits protect against direct
hits, they don’t protect against the one remaining Nazi tank that
just fired a missile into the ground between us.

“
Landslide!” someone calls
from below us.

Duh,
I think as a rock explodes around me.

I’m not really sure how to describe what is
happening. The ground under me gives out. I grab onto the closest
thing next to me, which is a huge boulder that I’m currently riding
down the side of the cliff. It’s flipping me over and over, and
every time I hit the ground with it on top of me, I’m rocketed back
into the air as my suit deflects the impact. I see sky. No, ground.
No, sky again.

Now I only see black, and I feel an enormous
amount of pressure, pushing me further into the earth. I can hear
Kale’s muffled voice yelling my name over and over. “Emma! Emma!”
he calls out to the darkness that is now me.

I think my chest is
collapsing. My ribs aren’t strong enough to hold the weight of the
debris that’s resting on top of me. Thankfully, the head covering
is protecting my face, but I can’t see a thing.
I’m trapped!
I can’t move my hands
or my legs. My head won’t turn. My feet can’t wiggle.
No. No. No!

Breathe. In and out. In and out. I try to
coach myself into not losing my mind before Kale can reach me. In
and out. Deep breaths.

Slowly, the rubble starts to lift away. My
face is set free first. Then I see him, peering down at me. And I
know he’s absolutely freaking out. “Emma? Are you okay?” he asks
through his respirator.

I manage to croak a “yes.”

He continues lifting rocks off of my legs
and then my arms. Finally, he’s able to push a boulder the size of
a German Shepherd off of my chest; only I still feel it after it’s
gone. It hurts. Bad.

I scream out as Kale pulls me to my feet. I
clutch my side, gasping for air.

“
Let me see.” The suits
must sense each other, because Kale isn’t shocked when he touches
me. He moves his hand across my ribcage, pressing down lightly as
he goes along.

“
Stop!” I scream, when
he’s reached the tender spot.

“
You must have bruised or
cracked a rib, maybe two . . . Watch out!” He pulls me down and to
the side, as another missile slams into the cliffside. It sends
another landslide tumbling down. It’s like waves in the ocean, one
after another, crashing and spraying.

We’re hidden behind a large boulder now,
crouched on the ground, and I have tears spilling down my cheeks.
They’re starting to steam up my mask. “It hurts to breathe. How am
I going to make it up there? I can’t climb that now.”

“
We don’t have to. We can
go back to the house. We can wait this thing out with the
others.”

“
No. We can’t. What about
Kai? What about our future?”

“
We can have a future
together here, Emma. Look at you. Look at this place. You’re
injured, and we have a chance to be safe if we go back to that
house.” Kale looks so genuinely worried for my wellbeing. I love
him even more for that.

“
No. We’re going back to
our real homes and our real families.” I shift myself onto my knees
and peek around the boulder, looking for a way up—50-feet
up.

All around us, people are climbing to their
freedom, Keepers are rounding stragglers up, and people that want
to stay are fighting people that are trying to escape. The peak of
the crack in the dome is directly overhead. Fresh sea air is
spilling inside. I’m only just noticing it. There is also smoke
being sucked back out, as something huge burns on the other side of
the mountain range. The air-trains have stopped, but there are
still Keepers swooping around on those flying motorcycle
things.

That’s what we need…

***

Kale and I take turns firing at the men and
women riding the air-cycles. We’re both terrible shots, and some of
the machines have working force fields. Eventually, we hit a Keeper
in the leg, and his flying machine slowly starts to descend. We
take off after it, leaving our hiding spot behind. Well, I’m
running to the best of my ability, while clutching my side.

The air-cycle lands only 20 feet from us.
This seems too easy. I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop or the
other rib to crack, in my case.

The injured Keeper jumps off the machine and
hops over to a rock where he proceeds to inspect his bloodied leg.
He notices us slowly approaching, but doesn’t scare since we are
Keepers like him. “Damn suits,” he complains. “If they were working
right, I wouldn’t have gotten shot. Either one of you have a
Healer?”

I shake my head.

“
Humph. Figures,” he
pouts.

We edge our way past him and over to his
air-cycle, which is still floating inches off the ground. Kale
slides his gun back into the kangaroo pouch and then hops on the
flying machine. I slide on behind him, while holding my side and my
gun. I’m also trying not to scream.

It’s a good thing Kale is in the driver’s
seat, because I would have had no idea how to fly this thing. It’s
obvious that Kale doesn’t either. The air-cycle jumps, then lunges
forward and back. It jerks us this way and that as we rise up high
above the ground. I hold on tight to Kale’s waist, while he tries
to figure out what he’s doing.

The injured Keeper is yelling, “Hey! Stop
that! Get off my Hopper, you traitors!” He reached into his pocket
and pulls something out. It’s one of those weird, futuristic guns.
He raises it high, aiming straight for us. Not knowing if his
futuristic weapon can penetrate our suits, I aim my regular old
handgun back at him. Before either of us pulls the trigger, he
slumps to the ground. Another red stain forms on his bright, white
suit.

I’m relieved he didn’t shoot us and also
that it wasn’t me that shot him. I tuck the gun safely away in my
pouch.

“
I think I figured it
out!” Kale calls back to me. The Hopper springs forward and zooms
over the valley floor. Kale directs it to rise higher and higher
until we reach the top of the plateau.

“
There it is!” I point to
the well that’s in the center of the Safe Zone. It’s so close.
We’re so close.

Now we need to land.

Through another series of lurches and ups
and downs, Kale finally gets the air-cycle to stop about five feet
above the ground. Kale easily jumps to the grassy earth, but he’ll
have to help me down. With my injury, I won’t be able to take the
impact.

All around us, people are running away. They
dart over to the Safe Zone, because they still believe it protects
them. Maybe it does. But the sight of their terror, when they see
us masquerading as Keepers, is devastating.

“
Don’t worry about them.”
Kale brings me back to our own problems. “Sit on the foot rest
there.” He reaches up with his strong arms, wrapping one around my
uninjured side and the other under a leg. He carefully delivers me
to a stable surface.

We take each other’s hand, as we always do
of late, and walk toward the well and our past.

And future.

CROWD SURFING

As we approach the edge of the Safe Zone,
the people within the circle of stones huddle together. They all
push in closer to the well, blocking us from it. Someone to the
left of us within the circle starts to cry. Between sobs, I can
hear a woman’s frightened voice say, “My fifteen minutes are up.
Please don’t hurt me. Please.” She hesitantly steps outside of the
circle. Then turns and runs as fast as her fishnet stocking covered
legs will take her. She runs for the pine forest, the one we first
passed through when we arrived. But now it’s also the way out for
everyone except us.

“
We’re not Keepers!” I
call out to the scared crowd and then gasp in pain. None of the
worried people appear to believe us. They are just as wary as when
they first spotted us.

“
We’re not Keepers!” Kale
calls out this time.

I step inside the circle
of stones and then start to remove the white Keeper’s suit. First,
I remove the head covering, and then I slowly pull off the rest,
leaving it all off to the side (gun included). My book,
Emma
, is still resting
against my backside, and once again, I get to stand around in my
cotton bloomers and chemise.

Kale follows my lead and removes his white
suit as well. He takes the gun from the kangaroo pouch and shoves
it into his waistband. He seems hesitant to leave the safety of the
suits behind, but we don’t need them anymore. We’ve nearly reached
our destination.

“
Where are your silver
star tattoos?” Someone calls out from within the crowd. And the
crowd joins in, “Yeah! Where are your tattoos?”

“
We don’t have tattoos.
We’re like you. Prisoners,” Kale responds.

Someone cries, “They don’t have tattoos!”
Followed by others. “No tattoos! Get them!” And then someone else
yells, “No, I’ve seen them before!”

They start to push and shove each other.
Everyone is panicked. Except us. And although we’re in the middle
of a stampede and there’s still a painful pressure in my chest that
makes it hurt to breathe, I feel as though a huge weight has been
lifted off my shoulders. It’s as if I’m lighter than air, and I
might float right up out of the crack in the dome. I’m so relieved.
We’re only minutes from home. Home. My parents. My friends. My
life. Our life.

We shove our way into the crowd. They
envelop us as we press forward, but before we reach the well, the
people surrounding us start to get uneasy about something else.
They’re starting to push and pull each other more violently.
They’re yelling and screaming in dozens of languages. I scream out
as someone hits my side, trying to get past me. I nearly fall over
from the pain.

My attention shifts off of my ribs as a gun
fires close by. Overhead, a Keeper on a Hopper zooms around,
dropping something into the large group. And then, all hell breaks
loose. We have to climb over people that are trying to climb over
us. Everyone is fighting to go somewhere, but no one knows where
they’re headed—or so it seems.

Some kind of smoke is billowing up into the
air. I don’t know what it is, but as a precaution I pull my shirt
up over my nose and mouth. I hold my breath as much as possible.
It’s making it hard for everyone to see. Another person slams into
my hurt side, and I scream out in pain again. Unfortunately, it
draws the attention of the shooter. He fires in our direction. A
man dressed like a sea captain takes the hit. He drops to the
ground with his hand wrapped around his shoulder.

I don’t have time to react with emotion. I
only have time to turn around and push Kale forward toward the
well. “Go! Go! Go!” I urge him.

We reach the three-foot tall stonewall that
surrounds the well. Moss and mold cover the old stones that crumble
beneath my fingers as I dig in. I hold on tight to them as if
they’ll protect me. We crawl around to the other side, away from
the shooting. By now, most everyone has scattered to the
forest.

But not us. We still have to get down the
well.