The Reaping (7 page)

“We’re not in a train station. There’s nothing out there.”

Nothing? I push through the nets and grip the miniscule window sill with my fingernails and pull myself up to look. He’s right. Mountains rise up to the east, and between us and the peaks is nothing but grass and scrubby brush. The tops of the mountains are still shrouded in snow, and the sky is a brilliant blue. I haven’t seen a sky this clear in months. If it weren’t for my heart pounding in my chest, I might actually enjoy the view.

We’re hanging there by the window when the door next to us hisses open. Two soldiers appear, their guns casually slung over their shoulders. The window casts one long arc of daylight across the floor, and the corner we lurk in still stands in shadows. Only Jack’s head is faintly illuminated, and he’s as still as a statue.

One of the soldiers lifts his mask an inch and scratches his neck. “I don’t think there’s anyone aboard.” His voice is raspy and deep.

The other leans up against the wall and crosses one ankle over the other. “Really?” His voice surprises me. Given his bulk, it’s higher than I thought it should be, like he hasn’t even hit puberty yet. “I guess nomads would be crazy to try. You heard Nolan last night. Didn’t even have his goggles on.”

The first soldier reaches in a pocket and takes out a cigarette. “Too bad. Would’ve been fun target practice.”

The second soldier snorts. “Put that thing away. You’ll be disciplined for sure if you’re caught with that.”

“And who’s going to catch me? We’re not in Salt Lake yet. With this stop it’s going to be hours before we get there, and I’m supposed to have leave when we do. I’m itching for some time off.”

My breath catches. Hours from Salt Lake. Why are we stopping?

The skinny soldier tips his mask all the way up with one finger, and I wince at the sight of his face. He has a scar running from his left temple all the way to the corner of his mouth. It twists his lip up into a horrible sneer. He takes a lighter out of his pocket and flicks a small flame in front of his face and lights the cigarette hanging from his lips.

“I don’t know why you insist on doing that,” the other soldier says with a squeak.

“Relax. How will they find out? There aren’t any watchers.”

My body moves without me even realizing it, and my eyes meet Jack’s. No watchers. They put watchers everywhere else, why not on the train? My heart thumps with hope. We just might do this.

“What was that?” the second soldier says, bringing his gun halfway up.

“What? You’re twitchy, you know that?” The soldier takes a long drag and then blows the smoke in his companion’s face.

“Maybe no watchers,” says the soldier, waving a massive hand to clear the smoke. “But there are smoke detectors.” He points to a small, square box above the door. Just as he does so, an alarm shrieks and lights flash along the car. The train jerks to a stop, and the soldiers stumble. I roll forward, my hands grappling at the net to keep myself from falling off the metal container and spilling right at the soldiers’ feet. Wouldn’t that be a grand way to end this whole thing.

My fingers ache as they clutch so tightly to the net that my fingernails dig into my palms and I can feel the blood welling up. I close my eyes. The pain in my ribs screams at me. Jack grabs the net next to me and swings himself up onto the container. His breath comes heavy and he closes his eyes, trying to quiet his breathing. The soldiers recover themselves. The smaller one spits out his cigarette and stomps on it. Then he grabs the bigger soldier by the collar.

“It wasn’t me, got it?”

The soldier nods frantically. I can’t see his face, but I can imagine the panic on it. My arms shake and all I want to do is let go and clutch my side.

“It was whoever they think got on this train last night. We were doing our rounds and the alarm went off and we found this cigarette. It was them, and they were gone before we got here.” He releases the bigger soldier, who falls back against the wall and shrugs his shoulders to straighten his uniform. I look up. Please hurry. I can’t hang on much longer.

“You didn’t have to go berserk on me, you know.”

“Oh please. Stop being so sensitive.”

The smaller soldier brings his gun to his shoulder and leads the way to the opposite door. Just as it starts to hiss closed, the pain in my bruised ribs bites back at me so hard I have to let go and I fall to the ground. I raise my head to see the first soldier turn back just as I hit the floor, and the shock on his face brings him to a halt and the door slides all the way closed.

Jack’s face appears over the side of the container. He slips off the top and lands next to me. “We need to go now.”

My feet scrape on the floor as I spring up, and we race through the opposite door to the back of the train. The soldiers shout behind us as the door closes.

The next car is lined with bunks, but there are just bed frames and mattresses—no bedding, no pillows, no personal items. It may have been used to transport soldiers or prisoners, but it’s empty now and there’s no place to hide. We race between the bunks down to the other door. I look back in time to see the far door open and the two soldiers both try to come through. Luckily the big soldier is too big, and they bump shoulders trying to squeeze through. The first soldier curses and has only enough time to raise his gun and fire a hurried shot. The bunk to my right explodes in a blizzard of bed stuffing. I put my hands over my head and feel the cotton rain down on me and stick to my sweaty skin.

“Out of my way!” the first soldier roars.

I don’t look back; I just slip through the door after Jack as bullets pelt the metal walls around me.

Now we’re in a car stacked with boxes. There are two aisles down the length of the car, and thick straps hold the pyramids of cargo in place. One of the aisles lies in darker shadow, and Jack leads the way down it, stepping past the boxes that jut out at us. I keep right on his heels, ignoring the burning running up and down my torso, making my legs go faster as I follow him. I hear the door open behind me and the scuff of heavy boots and the barked commands. A small gap between two stacks of boxes opens up on our left, and Jack darts into it, pulling me in after him. It’s just wide enough for us to turn sideways and shimmy through.

The soldier’s walkie-talkie crackles, and I clamp a hand over my mouth so I can hear it.

“Yes, they’re here, sir,” says the first soldier. “Two of them. They’re headed for the back of the train.”

“We’re starting up again. Throw them off the train.” The train lurches forward.

“You don’t want to interrogate them?”

“Are you questioning me?”

“No, sir. But what if one of them is her?”

“There was a female?”

“Yes.”

The walkie-talkie is silent for several moments. Jack pushes deeper into the gap and I follow him. The boxes are on a pallet, and there’s barely enough space between the wall and the stack of boxes to squeeze through. We’re wedged between the boxes and the wall, and I feel so squeezed I only have room to take a breath, but we’re no longer visible from the aisle.

“Apprehend the female. The male is of no use to us. Kill him.”

Jack’s hand finds mine in the darkness. I’m not sure who he’s more worried about—him or me.

“Yes, sir.”

The boots tromp down the car now, one farther away in the other aisle, and one closer to us. I peer around the corner of the boxes just in time to see the muzzle of a gun appear in the aisle, and the big soldier creeps down, looking off to the right and then the left. I pull my head back in and squeeze Jack’s hand.

“Anything?” comes the harsh voice of the first soldier.

“Nothing. They might have gone all the way through.”

The soldier snorts. “There’s nothing out there. This is the last car.”

“I dunno. They could be anywhere. Think they’ll make us move all this stuff?”

The first soldier curses. “I swear all the bad stuff happens to me when I’m partnered with you. This is stupid. Look, here’s what we’ll do. You stand guard at the door. I’ll go talk to command and see what they want to do. With any luck they’ll call it a wash, but I’m not betting on it. Come on.”

The boots stamp back to the door. It hisses open and closed, and then everything is quiet again. I finally take a breath and look at Jack. He holds up a finger. We’ll wait one minute and then we’ll come out.

Jack’s voice is so low next to me, I can hardly hear him. “We’ll go out the back door.”

Last car?
I don’t understand. We can’t jump off the train.

“There’s a platform back there. We’ll have to ride it out.”

It doesn’t sound like much of a plan, but the soldiers will come back here, and there’s nowhere else to go. Jack sidesteps behind the stack of boxes, inching his way from behind them until he can worm his way through the gap on the other side. I follow him, listening over the sound of our breathing, the creaking of the train, and the scrape of our clothes on cardboard for any signs of the soldiers coming back. But there’s nothing.

We creep down the gap and to the shadowy aisle. Jack stops to look back down the aisle toward the far door, but he doesn’t see anything. Then we turn the corner and a low laugh greets us.

“I wondered if you weren’t really here.”

I glance out the corner of my eyes, and the first soldier stands in the aisle. His gun is slung casually over his arm.

Jack pulls me behind him and steps back. I look behind us. The door is only ten feet away. There’s a panel of glass, and through it I see the track stretching out behind us in an endless ribbon of metal. The brown-green grass waves as we pass, and the mountains spring up to the east. More mountains lie in haze to the west, and there’s nothing else as far as I can see.

The lazy laugh grates at my ears again. “Don’t know where you think you’re going.” The soldier settles his gun into his shoulder. “If you go that way, there’s nothing but a nasty drop off the train.”

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Jack replies, his voice carefully even. He takes another step back.

The soldier begins to sight along his gun, and Jack turns suddenly. I turn with him and we race ahead to the door. I wrench the handle and the door swings open onto a small platform, and the wind howls around us. Jack shoves me to the platform just as I hear the shots fire.

The platform is only about ten feet wide and two feet deep, and a railing with narrow spindles encloses it. In the center of the railing is a gap with nothing but a swaying chain to close it. Jack presses me into a corner against the spindles, making me as small a target as possible, and the spindles dig into my back. He hooks a foot around the swinging door to close it, but the soldier inside laughs gleefully, and suddenly the tip of his gun shows through the doorway.

“Come out, come out wherever you are.”

The gun is so close to us it makes Jack go rigid. He’s been away from this for too long. I forget how safe you feel in the colony, how I never once checked my back. He’s frozen, but all I see is red, and I spring from the railing, pouncing like a cat. I grip the gun in both hands and pull with everything I have, using the soldier’s momentum against him. The soldier isn’t expecting that kind of attack, and he stumbles forward. I eye the gap in the rails, but he’s regaining his feet and he’s not anywhere close enough. Jack shakes his head and tumbles after him, pushing him from behind while I pull on his gun, and soon the soldier is wheeling toward the gap. He drops his gun and holds out his hands to find the railing to brace himself, but the two feet of platform doesn’t give him enough time, and he hits the chain and then tumbles over it, rolling through the air and landing on the tracks in a cloud of dust as he rolls more times than I can count before coming to a stop. As the train slips away from him, I squint my eyes and watch, but he doesn’t get up.

My hands are shaking and I clamp them down on the railing. My legs wobble and my heart is still racing. I close my eyes and take a deep breath to steady myself. My hands just won’t stop shaking no matter how many breaths I take. All I can see is the black-haired man, Smitty, Mary, and the soldier rolling over and over again. My death count just keeps rising.

Jack’s hands cover mine, and my hands feel far too icy under his.

“Come on,” he whispers in my ears, trying to ease my fingers off the cold metal.

I shake my head. No. If I keep my hands here, they can’t do any more damage.

“Look at me, Terra.”

I shake my head. Nope, not going to do that either.

“You didn’t have a choice. I know that isn’t much consolation, but he was going to capture you and kill me. If he captured you, how would you save Nell and Red?”

Nell and Red. I had forgotten them in my panic as the soldier stalked us out of the cargo car. I slowly open my eyes. Nell and Red. I repeat it in my head. Nell and Red.

Jack finally opens my death-grip, and I tuck my hands against my sides where he won’t have to touch them. He helps me sit against the back of the train.

“I think we should spend the rest of the trip out here. We can jump off when we start to slow down outside of Salt Lake.”

My hands are still shaking, but it’s under control now. I pull my knees up and look at the chain swaying innocently to the motion of the train. I look past it at the tracks stretching behind us. In the distance I can just make out a dark lump on the tracks. Anyone else might have to get closer to know what it is, but I don’t have to. The dust crusts in my eyes and I can’t help the tears that come.