Infraction (29 page)

“
Can I go on a submarine
too?”

Her mother closes her eyes, and her aunt's black
eyes narrow on me so fiercely I think she can see the way my heart
has been hurt. I think of Dr. Benedict's black eyes, and the
way the only thing I could see in them was my own reflection. This
woman's eyes are so deep and full of emotion that they might
swallow me whole.

I take her little hand in my
own.
Yes. If your mother does too.

She turns to her mother, all wide-eyed innocence.
“Can we go there? I'm so tired, Mommy. I want to see a field of
corn in a pod. I want to see the elevator that goes out by the
ocean.” She even giggles. “I want to see the funny fish.”

Her mother stares at her folded hands. No one speaks
for ten minutes, and the time presses in on me as I see the
expressions painting her face with every emotion I can think of.
She sighs and then asks the important question.

“
If we did go—if it's even
possible—would my girl be safe?”

As far as I know, yes.

That's the one thing I'm not sure of—what kind of a
reception my friends received at the colony. It's never been done
before, land-dwellers coming down to the colony. I'm sure they were
put in quarantine at the minimum. I remember my dad's fear of the
Burn, which would also mean he would be terrified of its
inhabitants. I hope he can see them as people and not monsters. I
hope they can see him the same way; I always had a hard time with
that.

She looks at her sister, and the hesitation is
written all over her face. But her daughter tugs at her sleeve.

“
Please, Mommy.”

I smile. I don't know if I'd be able to resist that
voice either.

Her mother turns back to me. “How do we do it?”

A woman watches me by satellite.
I don't even go into how Gaea is my mother. That whole
situation is way too messed up.
I tell her when. Then we
go to the ocean.
In theory, at least. It
worked once before. It could work again.

The older woman laughs hollowly. “You make it sound
so easy. Like getting out of here is as simple as snapping your
fingers.”

I think of all my friends climbing
the sub ladder, Jack disappearing into the hatch, Jessa waving
goodbye as I stood on the beach and watched them all go.
It's never easy.

The younger woman stares into the fire, her fingers
splayed on the table, trembling. “We'll go.”

I take a deep breath.
It'll probably be about a week.

Gaea has to be back by now, and I'm not sure how
soon she can get a sub. But she has to know about this plan. She
gave me supplies, and I saw the look in her face as she disappeared
into the sub again. She looked proud.

The next day I find a clearing in the woods, one
where I have an open view of the sky. If Gaea's been watching me,
she'll know I'm here. I hope she knows. I'll do this again
tomorrow, just to be sure.

A sub. One week. West. Two adults, one child.

There. Message sent.

The women, the girl, and I spend the next four days
gathering firewood and scrounging for more food. My pack of
supplies won't last the four of us, and they feel bad enough that
they've already gone through half of what I had before. I hide the
firewood outside under a tarp and a layer of snow. I put as much of
the food as I can back into the hiding hole under the floor boards.
I scoop down to the ashes in the bottom of the fireplace, stirring
them so they look old. It's the best I can do so that if anyone
finds the cabin while I'm gone, it'll look abandoned.

We take a straight route west. I don't want to go
anywhere near the labor camp. I'm guessing it'll take us about
three days to get to the ocean. I could probably do it in two, but
I don't want to push the girl. I realize I don't even know their
names. I don't ask. If they wanted me to know, they would have told
me.

The girl smiles at me and holds my hand sometimes.
She chatters about anything and everything, and she reminds me of a
bird. She's so different from the sunken-in, haggard thing that
came to the cabin doorstep. I wonder if I've given her wings.

On the third day, I see the ocean through the trees,
and we descend the hill and stop along the forest's edge until
nightfall. We've seen the occasional scanner in the woods,
helicopters flew overhead twice, but saw no soldiers or agents.
When the helicopters flew over, both women and the girl shrank to
the ground, desperately covering themselves with wet bracken. I
felt so sorry for them. That was me not too long ago. Only a few
more days and they won't have to cower again. I wonder if the
helicopters were looking for me, looking for my friends, or if they
were just a routine patrol scouting for nomads. It doesn't matter
anymore. I won't let them scare me.

At midnight, we make our way to the beach, staying
hidden among the trees, but watching the ocean for the lights of
the sub. I tell the girl what to look for, and she's on her
tiptoes, her face beaming as she scans the water. She wants to be
the first to see it, and I want her to be too.

She squeals suddenly, and her mother whips a hand
over her mouth, silencing her. But the girl jumps and points, and I
see the lights. She's ready to burst free, but I hold her back,
waiting for the sub to surface. As soon as it glides to a stop and
the hatch hisses out a breath, I let them go and we race across the
sand to the water's edge. Jessa appears above the hatch.

I'm so glad she came again. She motions the girl up
the ladder, and I help the mother up the ladder. Jessa turns to
me.

“
I told Dad what I'm
doing.”

I freeze.
What?
I mouth.

She smiles. “He flipped.”

I smirk. Of course.

“
But after a few days, he couldn't
keep up the purple-face look. He's not happy, but he's okay with
it.”

My friends?

A tremor flutters over her face but
disappears just as quickly. “They're fine. Dad put them in
quarantine and then isolation,
of course
.” I can't help but smile at her tone. She's breaking up the
remaining ice that lines my heart. “But the council met and decided
we couldn't keep them prisoners. They're not terrorists or
anything.”

I breathe out in relief.

“
Kai had her baby. A girl. With a
shock of black hair. We're all pretty smitten.”

My heart expands. Kai had her baby safely, and she
wasn't taken away from her. Then I remember Mary's wound.

Mary?

Jessa's face falls. “She lasted for the sub ride
home. Dave held her the whole time, and all she did was smile at
him and tell him how lucky they were. She died as we pulled into
the sub dock. We just didn't have the supplies we needed on the
sub. Dave hasn't said much since then, but he wants to stay. He
asked if he could work in agriculture.”

I bow my head. At least they had those few days of
peace.

“
But Gaea helped me outfit the sub
better. I don't know how often we'll be doing this, but I think we
ought to have the supplies, just in case.”

Jessa helps the older woman into the hatch, and then
they're all safely aboard. Still no word about Jack. I won't ask. I
don't want to know how happy he is, if he's found a vocation as a
doctor, if he's settled in just fine.

I hear the thud of a helicopter in the distance. I
jump away from the sub, the icy water sloshing against my legs, and
motion Jessa down. She smiles and waves, closes the hatch, and the
sub disappears into the ocean.

The searchlight flickers through the trees as I make
my way back to the forest. When I'm safely covered in shadow, I
hunch down in the brush and shiver as I change out of my wet
clothes. I watch the helicopter swoop by, lingering for a moment on
the beach. The sand is pocked with footprints, but hopefully the
soldiers won't know how recent they are. I turn my back on the
helicopter and the ocean and retreat back into the woods.

* * * * *

About the Author

Away from her writing, Annie is the mother of the
three most adorable girls in the world, has the best husband in the
world, and lives in the hottest place in the world (not really, but
Phoenix sure feels like it).

Other books by Annie Oldham:

The
Burn

Bound

Dragon
Sister