Fugitive X (8 page)

“I’m tired too,” she said quietly. “But I’m not done.”

Nick turned back to look at her but said nothing.

“I am done moving from Freepost to Freepost, though,” Erica said. “They’re just going to blow them all up eventually.”

“So what, then?” said Nick.

“I’m going to join the rebels. Kill some bots.” She stepped closer to Nick. “You do whatever you want. Be done if you’re done. Sit here and wait to die. It’s not my problem. But I can find the rebels—I know a few of their hideouts.” She shrugged. “They might even know something about your brother. I’ll let you tag along, if you’ve got any fight left in you.”

Nick fought to control the almost overwhelming jumble of emotions he felt—anger, despair, frustration. Erica watched him intently, looking more impatient than sympathetic. Finally Nick nodded and picked up his pack. It was a plan. Not much of one, but at least it was something. “Lead on,” he said quietly. “Let’s go kill some bots.”

They continued southwest the rest of the day, then made camp when it began to grow dark. Erica cooked a squirrel that she had shot, expertly skinning and cleaning it with her hunting knife and then skewering it with a long stick.

They ate in silence. When they were done, Nick smothered the small fire with dirt. It was dusk, and the air had grown a bit chilly. He laid out his bedroll and sat down. Erica set her
bedroll down next to his, then walked over to a nearby tree and sat with her back against it. “I’ll take the first watch,” she said. “Get some sleep.”

“Not tired yet,” Nick said.

Erica shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

The sky grew dark. Nick watched Erica. In the moonlight, she became a vague shape against the tree, her legs tucked under her. She unsheathed her hunting knife and began whittling a stick. The moonlight glinted off the blade.
She is dangerous, this pretty girl
, Nick thought. Better in the woods than him, by far. And with her knife and pistol, probably better than him in a fight, he had to admit. Was he being stupid, teaming up with this stranger? Still, she had saved his life, getting him out of the Freepost that morning . . . and without her, he’d never find the rebels.

“Erica,” he said, “why are you helping me?”

Erica stopped whittling and turned to look at him. In the gloom he mostly just saw the whites of her eyes and her teeth. “Why not?” she said. “You seem harmless enough.”

Nick was irritated by that. He had killed bots. He had broken out of the re-education center. Back in the City, he was wanted for “violent rebellion.”

“I’m not as harmless as you think,” Nick said.

“Good,” said Erica. She went back to whittling her stick.

“They attacked my Freepost the same way they attacked the one this morning,” Nick said. “Burned it down. Killed
most of us and took some of us hostage, and only a few of us got away.” He paused. “Is that what happened to you?”

“More or less,” Erica said, continuing to chop on the stick. Nick waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t say anything more.

“And your family? You said they were killed? Captured?”

She set her stick down. “More or less,” she repeated, with an edge to her voice that kept him from asking anything else.

Nick slept for a few hours, then was woken by a nudge on the shoulder from Erica. He opened his eyes. She was squatting, her face near his. In the faint light, she looked younger, delicate even. She had a long, straight nose and a heart-shaped face with the fullest lips. He wondered what it would be like to kiss them, then felt guilty for thinking it. He should be thinking about kissing Lexi, not Erica.

Erica held her pistol out toward Nick, muzzle pointed sideways. Nick sat up, suddenly wide awake. “You know how to use this?” she asked.

“More or less,” Nick said.

Erica smiled, her teeth flashing in the moonlight. “Right. Ha-ha.” She pointed at a small switch near the trigger. “Safety switch,” she said. “Forward to fire. Back, to keep yourself from accidentally shooting your own foot.”

“Got it,” he said. He held his hand out. Erica hesitated. He realized that this must be strange for her too, putting her trust in a stranger. “It’s fine,” he said, gently. “I’ll keep a good
watch. Sleep.” Erica nodded and handed him the pistol. She lay down on her bedroll. Nick felt strangely proud, like he had passed some sort of test. Still, her trust in his guard only went so far—before pulling her cover up to her chin, Nick noticed that Erica was holding her hunting knife, in its sheath, up against her chest.

———

In the morning Erica led them directly south. They followed a creek for an hour, until Erica stopped near a rocky outcropping that the creek bent around, hiding it from view. “Past those boulders,” she said, pointing, “there’s a sheltered clearing that I know they use sometimes—”

A rock next to Nick’s leg exploded with a burst of light and a muffled
thump
, spraying pellets painfully against his shin. “Down!” said Erica, hitting the ground. Nick was on the ground a moment after her. He looked around frantically. Where had that come from? A man stood up from behind the boulders. He aimed a burst rifle at Nick and Erica. Nick felt a jolt of recognition—it was the thin man in camouflage gear that he and Cass and Kevin had seen a few days ago.

“Next shot won’t miss,” the man called out. “Turn around and leave.”

Erica stepped forward. “You know me,” she said. “We’ve met in the Freeposts.”

“Yes,” said the man, “I’ve traded with you. Doesn’t matter. You still need to leave.”

“What, you own these woods?” said Nick angrily. He knew it was stupid to lose his temper, especially with a burst rifle aimed at his chest, but he couldn’t help himself.

“This section of it, right now, yes,” said the man calmly. “Now, one last time, I’ll ask you to leave. I don’t particularly like shooting humans, but you won’t be getting any more warnings.”

“We want to help,” said Erica. “To join you.”

“We’re coming from the Freepost northeast of here,” Nick added. “It was just destroyed by the bots.”

The man lowered the rifle and took his finger off the trigger. “Yes, we know.” He was quiet for a moment, then shrugged. “Come on then. Ro will want to talk to you.”

Beyond the boulders, the man led them toward a small hill overgrown with bushes that was tucked back from the creek. From a distance, the surrounding trees seemed to come right up to the base of the hill, but as they got closer, Nick saw that there was a small gap between the trees and the hill on the south side. The man stopped and whistled twice, two quick bursts, and they heard one long whistle in reply. He pointed at the gap in the trees and nodded, then followed closely behind Erica and Nick. Nick felt a prickle on the back of his neck, knowing that the man’s burst rifle was at his back.

Beyond the tree gap, the woods opened up into a clearing that held the rebel campsite. Tents were staked in two rows of four, surrounding a fire pit circled with small stones. Two men
were cooking a rabbit over the pit. A small group of men and a woman were sitting on logs, looking at something on a handheld vid screen. He saw others farther back in the clearing. Everyone wore camouflage and had the unmistakable look of long-time forest-dwellers—they were tan, and dirty, and lean.

One of the men at the fire pit left the rabbit and walked up to Nick and Erica. Nick recognized his stocky build—this was the other man that he had seen with Kevin and Cass, the partner to the thin man. “What’ve you found, Jackson?” he said, staring at Erica and not even glancing at Nick.

“Survivors from the latest Freepost attack,” said Jackson. “Figured Ro would want to talk to them.”

“Yeah, suppose so,” said the stocky man. He was still staring at Erica. “This one I recognize. Trader, aren’t you?” he said. “Like to roam? Bad luck, that was, getting stuck in a Freepost right before an attack.”

“Yes,” said Erica, crossing her arms over her chest, looking at the man with obvious distaste. “Bad luck.”

“Marco, get the screener, will you?” said Jackson.

“We’re clean,” Erica said angrily.

“I’m sure you are,” said Jackson. “Marco, the screener.”

Marco grunted and nodded, then walked off to one the tents. He came back a minute later holding what looked like a small metal baton. He waved it carefully over Nick, feet to head, front and back, then glanced at the small screen built into the grip of the baton. “This one’s clean,” he said. He repeated the
process for Erica, who stood rigid while he ran the baton over her. When he reached her waist, she turned, as if to say something, and his hand brushed her butt. She stepped back and slapped him. Jackson grabbed her by both arms and pulled her away from Marco, and Nick stepped quickly between Marco and Erica. The nearby rebels were now standing, watching them intently.

Marco touched his cheek, then slowly the anger on his face slipped away, replaced with an almost respectful smile. “It’s fine, Jackson. I’m fine. Let her go.”

Jackson hesitated, then let go of Erica’s arms. The other rebels watching the scene relaxed and went back to their tasks.

“Watch them for a minute while I get Ro,” said Jackson. “Try not to start another fight.” Marco nodded, grinning, and Jackson walked off toward a tent set back from the others.

“Must’ve been pretty nasty,” said Marco. “The Freepost, I mean. What’d they use, a couple of warbirds and twenty soldiers or so? That’s probably all it would take.”

Erica ignored him. Marco turned to Nick. “Well?” he said.

“Well what?” said Nick. His heart was still beating hard from the adrenaline rush of almost being in a fight.

“Two warbirds? Twenty soldiers?”

“Something like that,” said Nick.

“Lucky to get out,” said Marco.

Nick thought of Erica kicking in his door, dragging him off the floor, leading him out. Of the other Freeposters who were
dying, being captured. Who he hadn’t fought for. “Yeah,” he said quietly.

Marco seemed done conversing, and Erica and Nick had nothing to say, so the three waited in silence. After five minutes, Jackson came out of the tent, followed by another man. They walked toward Nick and Erica. “Best behavior, girl,” whispered Marco. “Slapping Sergeant Ro wouldn’t be a very good idea.”

Erica shot him an annoyed glance—she obviously didn’t like the way he said “girl,” but she was quiet. Jackson and Ro walked up. Ro was young, not much older than Nick, Nick guessed, but he walked and held himself with a certain subtle confidence that seemed to command respect. He wore camo gear like everyone else. His brown hair was buzzed short, and up close, Nick noticed that his hair had one white streak in it, above the left ear.

Ro studied Nick and Erica, and Nick tried to return the gaze without flinching. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared right back at Ro.

Ro nodded. “Okay. Jackson tells me you two are survivors of the recent Freepost attack. True?”

Erica and Nick nodded.

“You, I know,” he said, nodding at Erica. “You”—he turned to Nick—“I’ve never seen. Your story first. Begin with how you got that bot hardware in your eye.”

Nick gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to look away, to
hide his eye. What could he say? And then he thought,
Rust it. It doesn’t matter. Just rust it all.
“I got it in re-education.”

Jackson looked at Ro, surprised, but Ro didn’t react. Erica had turned and was staring at Nick. Nick went on. “The bots fixed my blind eye in a rejuve tank.”

“So you’re from a City,” said Ro.

“No, I’m a Freeposter,” said Nick, with a certain pride in his voice. “My Freepost was destroyed a month ago. We were Revolution 19,” he said bitterly. “My parents were taken and my brother and sister and I went into the City to rescue them.”

“And then you were re-educated,” said Ro.

“No, I was in re-education, but I wasn’t re-educated. Big difference.”

“Turn around,” said Ro. “Lift your hair and pull down the collar of your shirt.”

Nick turned and showed Ro his neck. “No chip,” he said. “I broke out before they chipped me.”

“You broke out of re-education,” said Ro.

“Yes,” said Nick.

Marco laughed, and Ro shot him a quick glance that shut him up immediately.

Ro studied Nick. “I believe you,” he said, sounding somewhat surprised. “So, go on. You break out of re-education. Then what? Your parents? Your brother and sister?”

Nick clenched his jaw, repressing the sudden rush of emotion. “My parents are still in the City. We couldn’t get their
chips out. And my sister was wounded and recaptured, and my brother is missing. Have you seen him? His name is Kevin. Thirteen years old? About this tall?” He held his hand up to his chest. “We got separated in the woods two days ago.”

Ro shook his head, and Nick felt his fleeting hope crash. “No, sorry,” he said. “But let’s go back. You go to the City to rescue your parents. You go into re-education, break out, then what?”

“We managed to shut down the City mainframe, but it was temporary,” said Nick. “Only long enough for us to get out. And we had to leave my parents behind.”

“And then you lost your sister and brother on the road, and ended up in the northeast Freepost a day before it was attacked?”

“Yeah,” said Nick quietly.

“And what are you doing with this one?” he said, nodding at Erica.

“We met in the woods. She showed me how to get to the Freepost. She was there too when it was attacked.”

Ro shook his head and gave a small smile. “Okay, one of the more interesting stories I’ve heard in a while.”

“It’s all true, dammit,” said Nick angrily.

Ro held his hand up. “I’m not saying you’re lying. One more important question. What are you two doing here?”

Nick looked at Erica. She gave a small nod, as if giving him permission to speak for the both of them. “We have nothing left to lose. We want to fight.”

THE BOT, 23, LED KEVIN BACK THROUGH THE CAMP IN SILENCE. KEVIN
was itching with questions about the Governor, but he doubted the bot would tell him much of anything, and he didn’t want to give it the satisfaction of denying Kevin the information. So they walked back through the Island without saying a word.