The Reaping (3 page)

“What is it?”

Then he sees the look on my face and he’s on his feet before I can blink, gathering his sleeping bag and crouching, ready to run. Old habits die hard.

Helicopter
, I mouth.

He nods. You never forget that sound. In my stupor I had taken it to be thunder, but there’s a helicopter out there. I wouldn’t be as worried if it were swooping by on a scouting run. But the sound hovers just above the trees at a distance. These woods might now be riddled with soldiers.

Jack remembers the old routine flawlessly: he stomps and covers the embers of our fire, I kick leaves under our sleeping bags so the depressions in the ground vanish, he pulls branches across the path we made into the grove, I scope the distance to find a safe direction to travel. In less than one minute, our campsite looks as if we were never here and we’re already running through the trees away from the sound beating relentlessly in the sky.

“They’re close.”

I nod.

Jack’s breath shortens as we scramble on hands and feet. We’re not trying to be quiet now. With that helicopter it doesn’t matter much anyway. We just need to put ground between us and what waits for us. Under the sound of the beating rotors, I hear shouts in the distance. Jack grabs my arm.

“Hurry!”

My head whips side to side as I search for a tree that will hide us. We’ve escaped the skinny pines of our campsite and are back among the adult trees. At the top of the next rise, the dark bulk of a huge tree looms before us, and the top disappears into the night sky. I hope its branches are thick enough to hide us; there’s nowhere else to go. As I jump for the lowest branch, Jack laces his fingers for my foot and hoists me up. I wrap an arm and both legs around the limb and then reach down for Jack’s hand and give him the tug he needs to grip it. He’s up beside me in a few seconds, and then we both look around, finding the lowest limbs and climbing, climbing, climbing until we’re ten, then twenty, then thirty feet off the ground. The bark scrapes at my palms, digs into my fingers and makes me wince, but I grit my teeth and climb. When I look down, I can barely make out the forest floor beneath us through the pine needles. If I look out beyond the tips of the branches, I can see more around us.

The voices come closer, and Jack and I press ourselves against the tree trunk, trying to blend in as best we can. My lungs are screaming at me to take a deeper breath, but I can’t. Not unless I want them to find us.

Through the filtered moonlight, I can make out our campsite, and three shapes come into the grove. Each one has a gun pulled up into a shoulder. I can recognize the posture even in the dark—I could recognize the posture anywhere. I’ve seen too many of these soldiers with their night-vision goggles and their ubiquitous weapons. They’re in a triangle formation, and the figure in the lead motions the others forward. They’re silent now, stalking through the woods with only the crackle of twigs to give them away. They know they’re close to their prey. They know we’ve been here. But how? We were so careful.

One of them stops and snoops around our campsite, digging through the leaves with the muzzle of his gun. He turns around and prods some more, then looks at the leader and the glint of moonlight on his goggles tells me he’s shaking his head.

Jack and I haven’t lost our touch—we still flawlessly cover our tracks.

The soldiers slowly turn three hundred and sixty degrees, covering every inch of the grove. They find nothing. They don’t even think to look up. I could laugh at their stupidity if we weren’t in such a precarious situation. It’s cold, but my hands are sweating as I cling to the tree. Jack hasn’t moved an inch since we found our perch, and his lips are tight. He won’t even look at me. He just stares at the soldiers below us.

One of the soldiers finally risks speaking. “Nothing, sir. There’s no trace of her.”

A crackling voice answers back, tinny through a walkie-talkie. “Check again. We know she’s out there somewhere. She made a drop yesterday.”

Jack finally looks at me, worry worn deep in his eyes.

So the government does know what I’m doing. They’ve figured out where the nomads are going. And they were so close to finding me, too. If I were just a few minutes slower, if the soldiers were just a bit smarter, they would have caught me.

The soldiers shrug and look around for a few seconds more before disappearing across the grove to cover more ground. The helicopter lifts into the air and flies above the forest. Our tree sways under its down draft. My foot loses its grip on the branch and I slip, my hands grappling the biting bark as my legs flail out from under me, and Jack catches my hand just in time to keep me from falling. We stay that way—me with one hand on the branch, Jack clinging to my other hand and the tree for all he’s worth—until the sweat is pouring into my eyes and both of our muscles are screaming for relief.

I haven’t heard the soldiers for probably five minutes, and the helicopter sounds at least two miles away. I finally let myself relax and Jack pulls me back up onto the branch, and I let my cheek rest on the bark. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

Jack sits down on the branch, his legs dangling on either side as he leans against the trunk. “I knew it would be like this. I knew it would be. I just didn’t imagine it would start so soon. That first week in the colony, I checked my back after leaving and entering every room.” His shoulders slump. “It was so strange to feel safe again. Jessa teased me every time I did it.” He looks at me and arches an eyebrow. “For being twins, you two are completely different. After a couple of weeks, I finally relaxed. I’m going to pick up the habit again pretty quickly.”

I nod, and the tree bark scratches my cheek. I don’t know if I’ll ever stop checking my back.

“Think we should stay here until morning?”

I nod again.

“Alright. Well, come here.”

I ease myself up onto my knees and slide next to him. He’s found a spot where two branches come together in a V against the trunk and form a wide seat. It’s probably the safest spot we could be in this tree. He carefully pulls out his sleeping bag, unzips it, and drapes it over us.

“You sleep. I’ll watch. I’ll wake you up in an hour.”

I’m not drowsy. The adrenaline is still pumping through my veins and it’ll be at least a few minutes until the rush starts to ebb. We sit in silence and he holds me, his head lowered against mine, and I cling to his hand for dear life. With the sound of the helicopter fading away, the other forest sounds resume. But I don’t feel safe. The worry still nags at me—how did they know I made the drop yesterday? There were no helicopters, no soldiers. If there had been soldiers, they would have sprung out of the woods at the chance of capturing a group of nomads. So how did they know?

I rub Jack’s hand as the thoughts race through my head over and over again.

“Relax, Terra. You’re rubbing it raw.” He pulls his hand away and wraps both arms around me. “We’ll be okay up here.”

The adrenaline is finally draining out of me, and I feel tired to my core. The thoughts of how they knew where I was are still racing through my head, but my body is too tired to think it through any more, and I can finally close my eyes and let sleep carry me away.

I wake up when the birds start singing at dawn, and I lift my head off Jack’s chest and squint into the distance. My leg slips off the branch and my whole body flinches, and I gasp as I suddenly remember where I am. Jack’s awake in a heartbeat.

“What’s wrong?”

I smile sheepishly and point to the ground.
Forgot.

He rubs his hands over his stubbled cheeks, and his mouth opens in a deep yawn. “Sorry I fell asleep. I should have woken you up and let you watch. I was just so tired. I think that colony of yours spoiled me.”

I grin and take his hand.
Glad you liked it.
When I’m done writing, my fingers close around his and I study them for a moment.

Why did you come back?

He pulls his head away so he can see me better. “Do you really need to ask me that?”

You were safe. Never had to run again.

“Yes, but you weren’t there.”

I turn from him. I feel so guilty. I can’t help wondering if trading the comfort and security of the colony is worth coming back here just for me. Jack must see some of that in my face.

“You’re worth it, Terra.”

His voice is so earnest that I turn to him again. His face is an inch from mine, our noses touch, and his eyes bore into me. He doesn’t blink or turn just a fraction from me. Then he crosses the gap between us, and he’s kissing me. This should have been the way our first kiss was. Not that desperate attempt at the last possible minute to show him how I felt as we were standing in the freezing water. This kiss is gentle and says more than that first kiss ever could. The kiss isn’t long and is as soft as a whisper, but it scorches me so deeply I shiver. His hand touches my neck and hovers there, feeling like a wind-whisper. When my eyes flutter open, Jack is smiling. My heart races as I touch his cheek and my fingertips play with the hair curling around his ears.

The morning air is still crisp, and I realize I’m shivering. I probably have been the whole time and didn’t even notice.

“We should probably get moving.”

I nod and we drop our packs and the sleeping bag from the branches and make our way down the tree.

“You never told me why you left the colony. Compared to this, it seems like a paradise. I don’t understand why you stayed here when you could have gone back.”

We’re to the bottom branch and dangle and then drop to the ground. I look past the leaves and to the slivers of blue peeking between.
I was a prisoner.

“I can understand that. It must feel different if you grew up in it.”

How are the others?
I wonder if they’re as at home there as Jessa is or if any of them have the same misgivings as I did.

“Kai and her little girl are so sweet. Did Jessa ever tell you Kai named her Terra?”

Sudden tears prick my eyes.

“Really, she did.” He squeezes my hand. “Because of you she actually gets to enjoy her little girl. Lily is working in food prep or whatever you call it. She likes cooking. I’m glad the labor camp didn’t spoil that for her. Madge is still Madge. She’s a force to be reckoned with. Not very many people try to boss her around. And Jane is thriving. I don’t know if you’d even recognize her. She’s filled out a bit.”

This makes me smile. Poor Jane with her sharp cheekbones and sharp elbows and knees. I’m glad she can let herself be happy. Then Jack falls silent and looks away from me. I lift my shoulders to ask,
What?
He rubs a hand on the back of his neck. I know who he hasn’t talked about yet.

Dave?

Jack lets out a long sigh and shakes his head. “He’s just not the same. After Mary died, he jumped right into his work—agriculture—and he barely said another word. I’d see him every day after my medical shift. I was lucky if I could get him to even look at me. He works harder than anyone I’ve ever seen, so of course people like your dad are proud of him and what he adds to the community, but he just isn’t healthy.” He stops walking, and I turn to look at him. “I don’t know if he ever will be again.”

My head droops. I tried so hard to help my friends escape the ugliness here. But Dave didn’t escape, not with the glaring hole left in his life that Mary should be filling.

Jack touches my shoulder “It’s not your fault, Terra. You did everything you could.”

His words bring little comfort. I did everything I could? Would saying that make Dave feel any better either? I shrug Jack’s arm off and scurry over a crop of rocks. I scan the forest around me—I must look like a frightened cat with my back curled up—and then break into a jog in the direction of the cabin.

“Terra!” Jack hisses as starts after me. “Wait!”

But I can’t wait. Tears stream out of my eyes and I shove them away with the heel of my hand. I had ignored all of this for so long. I knew Mary died—Jessa told me months ago. But my heart was still iced over, and I shoved it aside just like I shoved my pain for Jack aside. But now he’s back and my heart is thawing out, and with it comes all the heartache I’ve been storing up for six months.

Mary died, and from the sound of it, Dave isn’t much better. Both of the casualties weigh heavy on me, dragging my feet into the ground. My feet feel detached from the rest of me as they drag through the soggy undergrowth. I’m so used to being so quiet, but I can’t stop the sobs that rip out of me. My breath comes in hitches, but I keep running—away from the ocean and all the pain that lies buried beneath its surface. I need to get back to my cabin, back to the place that held me together. I need to get back there before I fall apart.

I’m just about ready to pull myself over an enormous fallen tree when Jack yanks me back.

“Terra!”

I can’t look at him. I wipe my nose with my sleeve. Jack takes my face in his hands, but I train my eyes on the tree to his right, the sky above him, that bird staring at us with liquid black eyes. Anywhere but his face. I’m too ashamed for what happened to my friends—for the lives I was responsible for.