Among the Betrayed (8 page)

“But the hating man—that's the guy who was interrogating me—he said no one would come to put me in the cell until eight
A.M.
That's, uh, ten hours away. We can get a long way away from the prison if they don't discover us missing for ten hours.”

“An hour,” Matthias said, as though the decision was his and his alone. “We'll wait an hour. That'll give the guards time to settle down. And”—he glanced back at the door to the jail cell—“in case someone comes to check, the three of us ought to go back in there for now.”

Nina could tell from his face—and Alia's and Percy's—how much they all hated that idea. With freedom only an hour away, going back into the jail cell seemed like an unbearable punishment. Just peering into the dark beyond
the door made Nina shiver. She was glad she, at least, got to stay in the hall under the glow of a lightbulb, even a weak one.

“Lock us in,” Percy said quietly.

The three kids stepped over the threshold of the cell and pulled the door shut. Nina turned the key in the lock. The bolt slid into place with a permanent-sounding
thud.

Not me,
Nina thought.
I wouldn't have gone back in there. I couldn't have.
If it'd been her, she would have taken her chances, ready to risk losing all possibility of escape just to avoid sitting in the dark, damp, miserable cell for one more hour. But none of the others had murmured so much as a word of protest.

Nina spent the next hour pacing—from the door of the jail cell to the metal door that led out to the stairs, and back again. Again and again and again. It would have made sense to conserve her energy, to save her muscles and her shoe leather for the hours of walking that lay ahead. But Nina couldn't sit still, couldn't rest for a second. When she felt sure that an hour had passed, she knocked at the door of the jail cell.

“Now?” she called through the wood.

“Not yet,” Matthias's muffled voice came back.

Nina paced some more. She sat down and looked through her food bag. (She kept her back toward the metal door, figuring she'd have to hide everything quickly if she heard anyone opening the door from the other side.) The
biscuits were crumbled now, the apples were bruised, the oranges were starting to go soft. Was this really enough food for all four of them?

You can still leave without the others,
an evil voice whispered in her head.
It's not too late to change your mind.

No,
Nina told herself firmly. She went back and knocked on the wood door again.

“Nobody's come,” she said. “Nobody's going to come. It's time to go.”

“Okay,” one of the boys answered. She couldn't even tell which one.

She unlocked the door, and the others came out. They looked calm and unworried, as if they were off to a picnic, instead of escaping from the Population Police. Nina began trying keys in the outer door again.

“Can I?” Percy asked.

Nina hesitated. She'd been so worried about getting the others to trust her, she hadn't even thought that she might not be able to trust them. What if Percy grabbed the keys, pushed Nina back, escaped without her?

He was a nine-year-old kid. Nina handed the key ring over. Percy looked at the keyhole, sorted through the keys, then held up a dull silver one.

“Try this one next,” he said.

Nina stabbed it into the hole. It fit. The lock clicked and the door gave way. The stairs lay right ahead of them, deserted and dim.

“Should one of us go up to make sure it's safe?” Nina whispered.

“Me,” Alia said.

Nina waited for one of the boys to say, “Oh, no, not you.” How could they send the youngest out first? But no one said anything, so Nina didn't, either. Alia tiptoed forward, as graceful and silent as the cats Nina had seen on TV. When Alia got to the top, she turned around, waved back at them, and mouthed the words, “All clear.” Percy and Matthias stepped forward, and Nina followed.

“She's done that before,” Nina whispered. “She's used to being the lookout.”

“Shh,” Matthias said over his shoulder.

By the time they reached the door to the officers' suite, Nina was convinced she was hanging out with a bunch of professional thieves. Maybe she was. What did she know about the other three kids, anyway?

I knew they were going to die if I didn't help them,
Nina told herself.
That's what matters.
And anyhow, it was wonderful to have Percy, at every door, select the exact right key, without any hesitation, any noisy fumbling. It was wonderful to have Alia slipping forward, always watching, always ready to warn them. Nina felt safer with the other kids.

But at the door to the officers' suite Matthias held Nina back.

“Isn't there another way out?” he asked.

“Not that I know of,” she answered. “Why?”

He pointed to gray wires running along the doorframe, so thin and nondescript Nina would never have noticed them on her own.

“Security system,” Matthias muttered.

Panic welled in Nina's chest. How could they turn back now, when they were so close?

But how could they get past a security system?

N
ina blinked hard, trying to hold back tears.

“That's it, then,” she said in a voice clotted with disappointment.

But the others weren't turning around. They didn't even look upset.

“How many more doors are there before we're out?” Matthias asked.

“Just one,” Nina said. “Into the interrogation room. Then we can go out the window. I mean, we could have.” She looked down, scuffing the toe of her boot against the filthy floor.

When she looked up again, Alia was scrambling up onto Matthias's shoulders. She swayed, raising her arms toward the security system wire.

“Steady,” Percy said.

“What are you doing?” Nina asked.

“Cutting the wire,” Alia said. She reached into the pocket of her skirt and pulled out a knife.

“Isn't that dangerous?” Nina asked. She didn't know much about security systems, but Gran and the aunties
had always warned her to stay away from outlets and wires.

“Yeah,” Alia said. “That's why I'm being careful.”

It didn't look like she was being careful. It looked like she was sawing at the wire, making the cut as jagged and rough as possible. Alia had scraped the plastic coating off a wide section of the wire. Some of the gray coating was even floating down to the floor.

“They'll notice that right away,” Nina said.

“They'll notice as soon as their monitors go black,” Percy answered. “But this way, it'll look like some mice chewed on the wire, not like some prisoners were trying to escape.”

“Got the key ready?” Alia asked through her clenched teeth.

“Ready,” Percy said, standing as close to the door as possible. He glanced back over his shoulder at Nina. “As soon as she makes the final cut, we run. Got it?”

Nina nodded and moved over to stand behind Percy.

Alia jerked the knife one last time, letting out a stifled “Ooh!” of pain. Percy stabbed a key into the lock and turned. Alia jumped down from Matthias's shoulders and rushed through the door beside Nina. Percy was already attacking the door into the interrogation room.

“It's our lucky day,” he breathed. “It's unlocked.”

Nina ran through the door and shoved open the window. All four of the kids tumbled out together. The branches of the shrubs scratched Nina's arms and pulled at her dress, but she kept moving, rolling on down the hill.
The food sack bumped against her legs. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that Matthias stayed behind, pulling the window down behind him.

“Come on!” Percy hissed in Nina's ear. “Head for the trees.”

Half running, half falling, Nina dashed blindly behind Percy and Alia. They were fast. In the darkness Nina was terrified that she'd lose them. She found herself navigating more by sound than by sight. As long as she could hear the other kids panting, she was okay.

The grass she was running through grew thicker, pulled more at her ankles. No, it wasn't grass—it was scrub brush on the floor of the woods. They were surrounded by trees now.

“All right,” Matthias said softly, right behind her. Somehow he'd caught up. “Let's stop and watch now.”

Nina wanted to keep running, but Percy put his hand on her shoulder, held her in place. The other kids crouched down, so Nina did, too, peering back at the prison.

Now that she was away from the prison, Nina could see that what the hating man had told her was true—the prison did have high barbed-wire fences and guard stations and bright lights at the back. The officers' quarters, where they'd escaped from, was just a small, one-story addition on an unprotected side. It was swathed in darkness. Nina had to squint to see it against the glare of the rest of the prison.

“They're not looking for us yet,” Matthias mumbled.

“No—there! Look!” Percy breathed, pointing.

A dim light—a flashlight?—shone briefly through the window they'd climbed out of. Then the light disappeared, and reappeared in another window of the officers' quarters.

“Nobody's coming outside,” Matthias muttered. “We fooled them.”

Nina shivered, thinking about what might have happened if Matthias had left the window open; if Alia had cut the security system wire straight out, instead of making it look like the work of an animal's teeth.

“What would we have done if they'd come looking for us?” Nina asked.

“Hidden,” Percy said matter-of-factly. “We're good at hiding.”

“You're good at a lot of things,” Nina said wonderingly. “I . . .” She wanted to thank them, to admit that she wouldn't have been able to escape without them. But the other three were already standing up, getting ready to move on.

“Moon's coming up over there, so that's east,” Percy said. “Which direction is this safe place you were telling us about?”

Nina looked, around, from the full moon's glow to the glare of the prison lights to the darkness of the woods beyond. The panic that had been threatening all night finally overwhelmed her.

“I don't know!” she wailed. “I don't know how to get there!”

T
he other three kids didn't even look surprised. Nina felt more ashamed than ever, that they had expected her not to know, expected her to be stupid and ignorant.

“Calm down,” Matthias said, none too gently. “We can think this through.” He looked over at Percy expectantly.

“The place you think is safe, it's by the school you used to go to, right?” Percy asked.

Nina nodded.

“And the Population Police brought you to prison from your school, right?”

Nina nodded again.

“What time of day was it when they brought you here?”

For a minute Nina was afraid she wasn't even going to be able to answer that question. But she recovered quickly, her mind supplying a frightening jumble of images.

“Morning,” she said. “They arrested me at breakfast.” She could still smell the oatmeal, could still see those three lonely raisins hiding among the oats. The memory made her want to gag.

“Okay. Good,” Percy said encouragingly, like he was talking
to a really little kid, even younger than Alia. “Now, think carefully. When they were driving you here, what side of the car was the sun on?”

“The sun?” Nina wasn't sure she'd heard the question right. Then she wasn't sure she could answer it. She'd just been arrested by the Population Police, she'd been terrified out of her wits—who in their right mind would pay attention to the sun at a time like that? Then she remembered the splat of water on the car window beside her, the flow of drops on the glass. “The sun wasn't even out,” she said triumphantly. “It was raining.”

Percy and Matthias exchanged glances. Nina got an inkling that she shouldn't be feeling so triumphant.

“Why does it matter?” she asked.

“If we knew what side of the car the sun was on,” Matthias explained, “we'd know which direction you were traveling. The sun is on the east side of the sky in the morning. If it was raining and the sun wasn't out, we don't know where you were coming from.”

“Oh,” Nina said. Though she couldn't see clearly enough, Nina had the distinct feeling that Matthias had spoken through gritted teeth.

It wasn't fair to expect Nina to know about the sun and the sky. She'd seen so little of either of them in her lifetime.

What made Percy and Matthias such experts?

“Can you think hard?” Percy was asking patiently. “Was there any part of the sky that was brighter than the rest of the sky that morning?”

This was like Aunty Lystra's detective shows. The detectives were always saying things like, “I know it's a strain, ma'am, but it's important for you to remember—are you sure you heard Mr. X leave his room before midnight?” But in Aunty Lystra's shows the witnesses were always sure of themselves: “Oh, yes. I heard his door open just before the midnight train went through, just before the clock chimed.” Nina hadn't been looking at the sky when the Population Police brought her to prison. She'd been looking down, at the cuffs on her wrists, the chains on her ankles. But if she'd looked out long enough to see the rain . . .

“It was still dark when we left the school,” Nina said slowly. “But then, I think . . . I think there was kind of a glow in the sky, through the rain, out my window.”

“Sunrise,” Matthias muttered.

“The sun rises?” Nina asked. She'd never thought about how it got up into the sky. In pictures and on TV it was just there, overhead.

Percy ignored her question and asked one of his own: “Which side of the car were you on?”