Untitled Agenda 21 Sequel (9781476746852) (6 page)

Steven's backpack held extra items, such as ammunition and handcuffs. He also had a device the others did not have and weren't aware of: a heat and motion sensor that could be adjusted to detect unusual warmth or motion from fifty yards away. This device was issued only to Earth Protection team leaders and was designed to vibrate when it picked up a heat signature or detected motion anywhere within a fifty-yard radius. A blinking red light was activated when the device was turned on. That light would stop blinking and become a steady red beam when anyone was detected. Turning his back on the rest of the team, Steven slipped the small device into his pants pockets, knowing he would be able to feel any vibration through his clothing.

“Fewer supplies than in the past,” Nigel said, as he examined his pack. “I wonder why.”

“They have their reasons. It's not for us to question,” Adam said. Guy's eyelid twitched, but both he and Winston remained silent.

Julia studied the items carefully. She unrolled the clothing, noting that it was far too large for her. The headband on the torch was also too large; she adjusted it by tying a small knot in the strap, but it still slipped down over her forehead. Frustrated, she pulled it off and tightened it with another knot. The men had already repacked their supplies and watched as she struggled with the torch.

“Here, let me help,” said Winston. He started to stand up, but Steven held him back just by raising his hand.

“Let her do it. She has to learn.”

Winston frowned but made no further effort to help Julia. Steven's power was limited to commanding the Earth Protectors, but he had a reputation of never hesitating to use that power to its fullest extent when necessary—a reputation solidified over many successful missions capturing those who had slipped away.

Steven remembered the early days of the missions. Nourishment was provided to the teams; the shadow people who had slipped away had to forage and were weak. Extra clothing was provided for the teams; the shadow people eventually had nothing but rags on their thin bodies. Guns were provided to the teams; the shadow people had nothing but rocks and sticks for protection.

When the Authorities were convinced that no shadow people still survived, the teams had been recalled and disbanded. Members were returned to their original Compounds and examined by Enforcers. Those who seemed fit were assigned tasks. Those who had physical injuries or stress disorders received no treatment and were never seen again. Why waste valuable resources on less-than-valuable Citizens?

A small boot camp of a few young trainees was established as a precautionary reserve. Winston and Guy had been in that boot camp.

Julia finally got her headband adjusted. She had the same items as
the men; there was nothing in her pack that was specifically made for a woman. Though the Authorities had drafted her, they clearly had made no special accommodations for her. They made no special accommodations for anyone but themselves.

“Are you ready?” Steven stood, casting a shadow over her. She rapidly repacked her items and slung the sack over her shoulders. The straps were too narrow for how heavy it was and they dug into her skin.

He watched her without comment, then told her to put the pack on the ground and empty it again. She looked puzzled, but quickly obeyed.

“Now, show me each item one by one and explain its use.”

“Change of clothing.” She held up the rolled bundle. “Knife.” She started to put it in the pack.

“Open and close it.”

She fumbled with the button on the side, her long fingers shaking. Finally, it snapped open; she closed it.

“Again. Faster.”

She pushed the button with more assurance, and opened and closed the knife.

She had to demonstrate wrapping the strap of the nightstick on her wrist, how to swing the ax, open and close the water bottle, and squeeze a tiny drop of the sanitizing solution into her palm. Nigel smirked when she appeared unsure of herself. Adam, paying no attention to this exercise, pulled out his own knife and used the tip of the blade to carefully clean under his fingernails. Guy put his hand over his eyelid to quiet the tic. Winston watched, frowning, his fists clenched.

Julia stared at the spray bottle in her hand. It was the last item to be repacked.

“What is it? How do you use it?” Steven asked.

Julia was silent.

“Well?” Steven walked in a circle around her. “Since you obviously don't know, I'll tell you. It's ammonia spray. Use it if you are being attacked
by anything. Animal, human, anything. Spray it directly into their eyes.”

“Even animals, sir?” she asked.

“Yes, even animals.”

Steven knew from past experience that the Authorities would label leaders who lost team members on a mission as inadequate. Steven knew he was more important than animals and more competent than the Authorities who gave him orders. After all, his team had captured more shadow people than any other. And now he was being called back into action with a female orientee. It wasn't right. Just looking at her, he knew she didn't have the physical capability to be a warrior. He certainly wasn't about to lower his standards just because she was a woman.

“All right. Everyone ready?” They stood, backpacks on, waiting for instructions.

“Here's the plan. They're three days ahead of us, so we have to travel quickly. They'll head for water. That's what they always do. Once they find water, they never leave it. We'll check for tracks and follow them. By now they'll be tired and their shoes will be falling apart. We should close on them in no time.”

They walked single file, Steven leading, Julia last, Winston in front of her, glancing frequently over his shoulder, making sure she was able to keep up. In single file, the five men and one woman walked deeper into the Human Free Zone until they came to the stream.

At the bottom of the hill, Steven walked a little way downstream, then reversed and walked upstream. When he stopped, the team stopped behind him, still in single file.

“What's he doing?” Julia whispered to Winston.

He turned his head and talked over his shoulder. “Looking for clues. Tracks. To see which way they went.”

“Oh. I would think anybody running away would head downstream. Follow a stream; it will turn into a river. Just makes sense.”

Steven turned and glared at Julia.

Winston whispered to her, “Don't talk anymore. I don't think he likes his team talking.”

They stood in silence until Steven finally called out: “This way.” He had spotted a piece of paper in the grass and some broken twigs on trees. He began to walk and his team followed, tracking people they didn't know, people who had several days' lead on them, people they were determined to destroy. A confident smile formed on Steven's lips as the group began their long march upstream.

W
e had more days of hiding, crouching behind shrubs, rocks, and trees. More days of putting fresh moss on David's arm and in Elsa's diaper. But she was irritable and crying frequently, a shrill sound that threatened our security. Micah was adjusting well to sleeping by day and walking at night, and David and I were used to working the dusk-to-dawn shift in the Compound anyway, so it wasn't a problem for us.

The real problem was our cheap, thin-soled shoes issued by the Authorities. Who knew shoes could be so important? The Authorities knew. Their shoes were sturdy, made to last. Citizens were issued flimsy shoes that wore out quickly and were only replaced after a long waiting period. Citizens had no power. You could tell who was important in the Republic just by looking at their feet.

We were about to embark on the fourth night of walking on thin soles. Before escaping, I had taken our shoes for granted. I thought other things were more necessary to bring along, but I quickly realized they weren't. I thought diapers were a priority, but I'd given up on diapers for Elsa and instead just dressed her in a little sleeping gown. Even when I rinsed the cloths in the stream, they never dried. I kept the diapers
we hadn't used in case we needed fabric for something. Bandages, maybe—I still worried about David's arm.

Now we faced another night of using the blanket of darkness to put more distance between us and our pursuers. I knew they were out there, somewhere. Getting ever closer. Walking much faster than us with their sturdy shoes and well-nourished bellies.

They were the hunters. We were the hunted.

The stream meandered across the terrain as though it couldn't decide which way to head. The ground along the edge was relatively flat; banks of earth rose up on each side. David and I took turns carrying our bundle and Elsa. Both got heavier and heavier as the night wore on. David pulled moss off rocks and we chewed on that.
Lichen
, he called it. Seems many green things in this world are edible. I trusted David to know what was safe and what wasn't. But no matter how much moss we ate, we were still starving. Hunger gnawed at our bellies. Hunger filled our thoughts, made our mouths water.

As the night wore on, our pace got slower, our steps shorter. I shifted Elsa from one arm to another and held her at arm's length when she peed. It splashed at my feet and made my arm wet when I tucked her back against me. Memories of the washing-up area in the Compound flashed through my mind but I pushed them away. What good was a washing-up area if you couldn't even raise your own child? What good was a nourishment cube if you couldn't move from one place to another without being tracked? What good was anything without freedom?

Still, hunger was a worrisome thing, always lurking in our thoughts.

I was startled out of my thoughts by the sound of Micah crying. Small sobs poured from him.

“Stop,” I whispered to David up ahead. He turned and walked back to us. Micah had sat down; his face was buried in his hands and his shoulders slumped. How small, how sad and helpless he looked. I reached out to him, stroked the back of his neck.

“What's wrong?” I asked.

“Nothing.”

“But you're crying.”

“No, I'm not. We're not allowed to cry. It's a rule.” He started to make the Pledge to the Earth sign, his forefinger and thumb held against his forehead in a circle, but I took his hand and held it firmly in mine.

“I say you can break the rules. And it's okay to cry. But you must tell me why.” Elsa, wide awake and sitting on my knee, reached a little pink hand toward Micah as if she knew something was wrong and wanted to help.

Micah looked up at me with his dirty tear-streaked face, his spiky hair now flat against his head. “I'm sorry,” he said.

“Sorry for what?” David was standing over us, looking down, anxious to move on.

“I broke my shoes. I didn't mean to.” He started to cry again. “And now you will have to send me back.”

“We would never send you back! You're part of us now,” I told him.

He stared at me unblinkingly, his lower lip quivering. “Promise?”

“I promise. And you can call us Mommy and Daddy now. That's what kids call the man and woman who take care of them.”

“I know that. Kids at the village told me. Kids know more than the Caretakers think.” He wiped his nose with the back of his hand. Back at the Village, the night we escaped, he said the other children were whispering about the relocation, wondering if it was true. Yes, the children knew more than the adults realized.

“Good. I'm glad you know what a Mommy and Daddy are.”

“I can really call you Mommy and Daddy?” He asked, between sobs.

“Yes, really.”

David bent and slipped the shoes from Micah's feet. Both of them had holes worn through at the heels and near the big toes; holes big
enough for David to put his fingers through. In the dim light of the moon, I looked at the bottom of Micah's feet. The skin was red and raw.

“My feet hurt when I walk. I can't do it.” He was almost wailing now.

David led us to the edge of the stream and told us to sit. “Put your feet in the water,” he said. “Rest awhile.”

I slipped off my shoes; they were almost worn through, too. Slowly Micah and I dipped our feet, toes first, ever so slowly, into the cold dark water. How good it felt once we got used to the cold! Flowing over our feet and ankles, the moving water seemingly transferred its energy to us. I held Elsa in front of me and let her soft pink feet touch the water. She pulled her knees up at first, then straightened her legs so her feet, too, were in the water. Those tender pink feet, not yet callused from constant walking and working.

David was busy gathering something from beside the water. Micah kicked his feet; the water splashed me. He laughed when I looked surprised. He was having fun, as a child should. As every child should. Then I splashed him and we both laughed. I put my arm around his shoulders, his small warm body close to me. I truly felt like his mother at that moment.

David was back with us, carrying some green things. “Cattail leaves,” he said. “And moss. We'll line our shoes with these. It will help for a while.”

It did, and, following the stream, heading toward the shadows of the unknown, we walked on.

S
teven kept the team walking past dusk, until total darkness settled around them, heavy as wool blankets, making them stumble over rocks and broken branches, slowing them down. He switched on his torch long enough to find a flat area with trees a few feet from the stream. One of the trees had a faded yellow notice nailed to it:
Private Property No Trespassing
. Steven ripped it off and tossed it to the ground. There was no such thing as private property anymore. The Republic owned everything. The Citizens owned nothing.

“Here,” he said to the group, shining his torch on them. “This is where we bivouac.” Their tired faces angered him. He didn't feel tired; why should they? He felt energized, as eager to find his prey as a hungry wild animal. “We'll keep sentry in groups of two. Nigel and Winston, take the first shift. Adam and Guy, second shift. Julia and me, last shift. When you feel you can't stay awake any longer, wake the next team. You cannot leave your post while on duty. If you have to relieve yourself after your shift, go as a team. Go only when the next team is awake and on guard.” He deliberately paired seasoned members with new members, the experienced with the novice, and the strong with
the weak. “Sleep facing away from each other. Sleep lightly, wake easily. Any questions?” He spat his words with a razor-sharp tone that did not invite any.