Away (9 page)

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Authors: Teri Hall

BOOK: Away
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Pathik came back, out of breath. He held three slim rectangular objects. “Is this enough of them? I thought I remembered it taking two.” He and Rachel had read the directions on the trek to camp.
“Yes, I think it's two.” Rachel removed the laser saw from the case. It was rectangular too, palm-sized, with an opening on one end and a dial on the side.
“So you snap that off,” said Nandy, pointing to the end with no opening. Rachel frowned at it. She couldn't see anything to snap off, and she didn't remember what the directions had said.
“May I?” Nandy reached for the tool.
Rachel handed it to her.
Nandy snapped off the end of the tool, revealing two slots where the batteries slid in. She took two of them from Pathik and pushed them into the slots until they clicked. Then she snapped the end piece back on.
“And this is the controller.” Nandy pressed the dial on the side and a light shot out of the end with the opening.
“Careful!” Rachel reached over and pressed the dial again to turn the light off. “That can cut through metal.” Rachel
did
remember that part. She'd watched Jonathan use a similar tool back at the greenhouse, and she remembered his warning about how dangerous the laser beam could be.
Nandy looked doubtful. She handed the laser to Rachel.
“Well?” Nandy pointed to the door and tapped her foot with mock impatience.
Rachel grinned. “Can you hold it closed, Pathik?”
Once the door was closed fast against the frame, it was clear where the metal edge was too large. Rachel pressed the dial on the laser saw and adjusted the light until it was the thinnest beam she could get. Then she traced it along the metal. It left a tiny black line where it touched. When Rachel reached the end of the ill-fitted area she turned the laser saw off. All three of them peered at the door.
“Hmmm.” Nandy looked unimpressed. Pathik reached to touch the metal. At the slightest pressure, there was a clinking sound, and the piece Rachel had trimmed fell to the floor. Nandy and Pathik stared down at it openmouthed. Nandy reached down and picked it up, looking first at it and then at the door. Pathik pushed the door snug shut.
“Fits perfect,” he said. He waved his hand back and forth where the rag had always been stuffed in the gap. “No cold breeze, Nandy.”
Nandy ran her own hand over the spot. A slow smile spread across her face. “I guess you'll have to find some other thing to get scolded for now, Pathik.” She turned to Rachel. “Thank you. That draft may not seem like much to you, but it's driven me crazy. It gets cold in the winter!”
“You're very welcome.” Rachel packed the saw back into the duffel. “Pathik, Nandy said you have a tech cemetery.”
“Go show her, Pathik—we have time before the food is ready.” Nandy shrugged. “Who knows, maybe she'll see something we could be using.”
Pathik led her outside, and they walked to the far side of the camp, behind the larger buildings. There was a clearing there, and in it was a huge pile of junk. As they got closer, Rachel could see why Nandy called it a tech cemetery. It was a pile of modern technology—though far from what Rachel thought of as modern. Antique-looking streamer carcasses were thrown in a heap, monitors cracked, wires trailing from some. There were other things too, all things that would have required electricity, or a signal, or a broadcast, to be of any use.
“Who put it all here?” Rachel saw a half-buried keyboard at her feet. She scuffed at the dirt, uncovering lettered keys.
“I don't know. Someone from when it first happened. After they figured out we couldn't use any of it anymore.”
“Why do you keep it?”
Pathik stared at the pile. “Why not?” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Maybe we'll need something, someday. Maybe something will make some sort of difference. Anyway, it's probably time to eat. Let's go.”
Rachel looked back at the pile as they left. It didn't look to her like anything there would ever make any sort of difference.
They had a simple dinner of eggs and a flat bread Nandy made out of flour and water and oil. There was water to drink and for dessert, an odd sort of dried fruit that reminded Rachel of apples. The interior of the hut was dim, since there were no windows, but the fire gave off a homey glow, and its warmth made Rachel sleepy.
By the time Malgam and Indigo arrived it was early evening. Much fuss was made over the repaired door, and over Malgam's improved color too. But some part of the lighthearted talk seemed forced. The prospect of the next day's journey was like another person in the room—a surly, unlikeable person at that.
“Well, I suggest we all get some sleep.” Malgam rose and stretched. “We'll need it tomorrow morning.”
Nandy rose too. She gave each of the men a hug, and then Pathik. “We're in there, Rachel,” she said, indicating the room she had earlier. Rachel began to follow her into the room.
“Here now!” Indigo's voice was a soft thunder. “Do we not get hugs from you too, Rachel?” He was smiling at her when she turned.
She smiled back, and went to him. His hug felt the way she'd imagined a grandfather's hug might feel; gentle and warm and safe. She wished she could stay there and hug him for longer. She went to Malgam next, and his hug was awkward, but kind. He grinned at her and tousled her hair.
“Sleep well, Rachel, and many thanks again, for your help.”
Then it was Pathik's turn. He looked as uncomfortable as a person could look without being in actual pain. She held out her arms, and he held out his, but they didn't move toward each other. They stood like that for the longest moment, two feet apart, eyes avoiding eyes, until Malgam finally stuttered out a laugh.
“Awww, just shake hands, my loves. We're all tired.”
Rachel dropped one of her arms, and reached out her hand. But Pathik shot his father a look, and stepped toward her. He took her outstretched hand in one of his, put his other hand around her waist, and led her in a playful dance, smiling. Then he wrapped his arms around her and held her, careful and soft, for just a moment.
“Sleep well,” he said, low, and she could feel his breath in her ear.
Later that night, lying in the darkness, listening to Nandy's slow, even breaths, Rachel thought she could still feel the tickle of Pathik's whisper.
CHAPTER 8
T
HEY HAD PLANNED to start at first light, but Rachel was awakened long before that. She heard Indigo's voice coming from the main room.
“Bring him here. Be certain he has no weapons.”
Nandy was sitting up in her bed, listening too. She looked at Rachel.
“Let's go.”
Neither had undressed completely the night before; Nandy had said they would need to be ready to go quickly, so they had kept all but jackets and shoes on. In two minutes they were out of bed and in the hut's main room.
Indigo and Malgam were seated at the table. Pathik was lighting oil jars. The room was chilly; the fire had died during the night and they wouldn't be building one this morning—they planned to be gone soon. Nandy sent a questioning look to Malgam.
“The far-station sentries found a man wandering. He says he's looking for you, Rachel.” Malgam sounded irritated.
“It must be Jonathan!” Rachel sat down hard; she felt oddly dizzy. Jonathan. Here, in the camp.
“Rachel.” Nandy knelt in front of her. “Who is Jonathan? Are you afraid he'll hurt you?” She touched Rachel's cheek gently, tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear. “We won't let anyone hurt you if we can stop them, Rachel.”
Rachel smiled, and shook her head.
“He's my friend. He works for Ms. Moore on The Property. He's always watched out for me.”
There was a soft knock on the door.
“Enter.” Indigo and Malgam rose from their chairs. Rachel stood too, and hastily swiped at her hair. She knew she must look a mess.
The door opened, and two men entered, holding a third by his arms. Rachel was about to protest, to tell them to let Jonathan go, when she saw the third man's face. She took a step back, and toppled right into Pathik, who was still standing behind her. He caught her.
“What's wrong?” He whispered in her ear, holding her steady against him.
Rachel didn't take her eyes off of the man. “It's not Jonathan,” she whispered back. She felt Pathik's arms tighten around her. Then he released her, and moved to her side. Indigo, who had been watching the man, turned and noticed Rachel's face. After a moment's deliberation he stepped in front of her, blocking the man's view of her. Rachel peeked cautiously past him.
“Who are you?” Indigo waited for the man to speak.
The man looked tired. There were streaks of dirt on his face, and there were dark circles under his eyes.
“Like I told your men, I'm part of the collaboration. Do you know about the collaboration?” The man looked from Indigo to Malgam. “I'm not here to cause any trouble.”
“The sentries say you were asking about a girl. A girl from
your
side.” Malgam crossed his arms and stared coldly.
“Yes.” The man appraised Malgam. He didn't seem overly impressed. “I need to find her. She may have documents that are crucial to the collaboration.”
“I'm told that the government doesn't let just anyone Cross. Why would they let a girl?” Malgam lifted his chin and looked down his nose at the man. “How,” he asked, “did you Cross?”
Rachel reached out without looking away from the man and found Pathik's hand. She took hold of it and squeezed hard. Pathik squeezed back, but he too kept his eyes on the man.
“I had a key.”
“Traitor!” Rachel let go of Pathik's hand and pushed past Indigo to stand in front of the man. “Liar!” Her face was red, her fists clenched at her sides, and she was shaking. It took everything she had to hold back from leaping on the man and tearing at him.
The man stared, stunned by her fury.
Rachel stared back. She seemed to be unaware of any other person in the room. Pathik went to her and carefully touched her shoulder.
“Rachel.” He turned her toward him and she moved stiffly, like a mannequin. “Is he Peter? The man you told me about?”
Rachel tore her eyes from the man, to meet Pathik's. She nodded.
“Who else could he be?” Rachel had never actually seen Peter, but this man knew her name. He knew she had the maps. It
had
to be Peter.
Pathik looked at the man.
“Are you Peter?”
The man nodded, relieved.
“Yes. I'm Rachel's mother's friend.”
“Friend,” spat Rachel, her lip curled in disgust. “You're no friend of my mother's. Though she thought you were.” She turned away from him, to the Others.
“This man betrayed my mother when she asked for help. He called the EOs and led them to Ms. Moore's the night we had to Cross. He's the reason I had to Cross at all. We planned to use his key to disable the Line just long enough to put the medicine and other supplies on the other side. That way Pathik could get them and go.” Rachel glared at Peter again, as if she could hurt him with her eyes. “You said you had a key. You said you'd bring it to us.”
Peter shook his head. “I never called the EOs. They must have flagged me, Rachel. They followed me there, to that house where your mother was. I never planned to hurt her, or you.”
Rachel shook her head. “You're lying. You wanted to trade my mother for your wife and daughter.” She walked away, back to the table, where she sat with her back to the room. Pathik remained where he was, eyeing Peter.
“Did you use your key to Cross? The key you promised to bring to Rachel and her mother?” Pathik looked disgusted.
Peter shook his head again. He raised his hands, palms up, in front of him. “I had the key in my pocket that night. But Vivian said Rachel had run away. She didn't want the key anymore. I did want the maps, because I thought that I might be able to use them to bargain with the government—they took my wife and my child. That's the only thing I wanted from your mom, Rachel. And when she told me that you had them with you, I was frantic. I guessed that you must have Crossed somehow when the EOs couldn't scan your genid that night. If you'd really just run away, they would have picked you up on a scan.”
“What maps? What are you talking about?” Indigo had moved forward to stand next to Pathik.
“Daniel—Rachel's father—was given some maps to protect, maps that are very valuable to the collaboration. When he died—”
“My father's alive.” Rachel shifted in her seat, so that she could see Peter's face. She felt some small satisfaction when it drained of color.

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