Children of the Uprising (20 page)

Evan waited until he was sure that Addy was asleep. He knew that he'd have to be really quiet because he knew how lightly she slept. The slightest sounds woke her up, and when Addy was awake she was wide awake. There was no transition out of sleep. Addy woke up ready to fight or ready to run, whichever option the moment called for. Ever since the second time that they made love, they'd slept close to each other, sometimes even touching. Even as he slipped away from her, Evan could feel her leg brushing against his. He moved his leg away from hers slowly, half convinced that the moment when their skin disconnected Addy would wake up. If she did, he would have to pretend to be merely tossing and turning in his sleep. As long as she didn't notice that his eyes were open, she would have nothing to be suspicious of.

Evan didn't like sneaking around on Addy like this. He didn't like planning his lies. He felt bad about what he was going to do, but he needed to do it. They'd been on the road for three days already. It had been three days since the compound in Los Angeles was raided, three days since they escaped, three days since Evan killed the policeman, and the only information he could get out of Addy was that his picture was out there and that they had to keep moving or somebody would find them. When he asked about Christopher, Addy refused to say anything. She told him that there were no lists of the dead and no lists of the captured. There were only numbers—twenty-eight dead, even more captured—and even those were incomplete. Evan knew why she was doing this. He knew that she was trying to protect him. It's only that it's hard to accept being protected when you have no idea what you're being protected from. Evan needed to see what was on Addy's phone.

Three days, and Evan didn't even know where they were. He knew where they were going. He knew that Addy was trying to get him to Florida to meet up with someone named Reggie that Addy used to work with. She said he was one of the leaders in this thing called the Underground. There's a lot of space between Los Angeles and Florida, and hitchhiking wasn't the most direct way to travel. Evan tried to follow the road signs, but it wasn't easy when they jumped from one car to the next the way they had, barely caring what direction each car was taking them. Addy's theory was that as long as they weren't going backward, it was always better to be moving than standing still. Evan was pretty sure they were in Louisiana. It wasn't that Addy wasn't talking at all. She had told Evan so much in three days about her past, about the War and its history, and about what Christopher meant to the whole thing. Now, if she would just tell him what the fuck was going on today.

It was so dark. They were sleeping in an abandoned barn. That's where they lived now, in places that had been discarded by others. It was quiet outside. The only sound Evan could hear was the rhythm of the cicadas and crickets and frogs, keeping tempo like a mysterious heartbeat. He recognized the sound from his nights in Maine, but it was different here, thicker and slower. Evan slid his body away from Addy's. He felt the moment when the skin of his leg separated from the skin of hers. He felt the lack of warmth. He felt the air rush between them. Addy felt it too. Her body moved unconsciously back toward him. Evan quietly slipped farther away from her, trying to make sure their bodies stayed apart for the moment. Addy turned away from him in her sleep and then her body was still again.

Evan slid past Addy without standing up and reached for her phone. It was lying next to her head—close to her in case she needed to grab it and run. Evan had already learned that much from her. Be ready to run. Always be ready to run. Evan lifted up her phone and turned it on. It produced an eerie blue glow. That tiny bit of blue light lit up the entire barn. Everything around Evan filled with ghostly light and shadows. Evan took a deep breath, hoping that the light was weak enough that it wouldn't attract any attention from outside. Addy was adamant about the lack of light at night. She'd told him that she'd made that mistake in the past, but she wouldn't tell him the details. And Evan didn't ask for them. Some things you don't ask.

Addy's phone was password protected, but Evan had been watching her each time she checked it, which happened frequently. Most of the time she checked it when she didn't think Evan was watching, but Evan was always watching. He watched to see if he could read the password over her shoulder. He watched her fingers. Despite its total lack of meaning to him, he was fairly sure that he'd figured out her password. He typed what he believed to be the password into the phone:
canossa
. He hit Return. It was like he'd found the secret key. Evan now had access to everything.

Though he was tempted, he didn't open any of Addy's e-mails. He didn't check her personal files. He tried to leave her some semblance of privacy. All he wanted was access to the Internet. All he wanted was to know what everyone else in the world already knew.

He found his own picture in a matter of seconds. It was the picture from his driver's license—the one in the wallet that he'd left in the compound when he and Addy ran. The picture was everywhere. He didn't think he had time to read the articles. He could only scan them for words and ideas.
Killer. Dangerous. Terrorist.
At first it was disorienting, seeing pictures of himself everywhere, seeing his name in print, labeled as some sort of monster when all he'd done was save a girl. One article would have worried him. Ten would have scared him senseless. But thousands—seeing his picture and his name in thousands of articles was so absurd that he found it almost funny. He kept digging, his own situation becoming more ludicrous by the moment. He wondered what all the kids back in his hometown in Maine must be thinking about him. He wondered how many stories he'd seen in the news during the course of his life that were this tenuously tied to the truth. He now had to doubt everything. None of the Web sites he looked at contained any of the details that he was really searching for. He found an original article from the day after the raid on the compound. Addy had told him the truth. No names were released except for his and the name of the cop that he'd killed. Evan didn't read the cop's name. He didn't want to know it. Other than that, everything was written in numbers—this many dead, this many captured—almost like a code.

Evan kept searching. He wanted to find something—anything—about Christopher, but there was nothing to find. Nothing existed that mentioned Christopher by name. Evan wondered if it was possible that Christopher had been reduced to a number. After all the time that he and Christopher spent training while growing up and after all the adoration, bordering on worship, that Christopher had been showered with over the last few days, was it even possible that he'd been reduced to a number? And, if he was a number, was he one of the captured or one of the killed? Evan looked over at Addy. He watched her for a second to make sure she was still sleeping soundly. She lay there, dimly lit by the blue light from her phone. Her breathing was steady. Her face held the stern expression it always did when she slept. Her body didn't move. Evan listened to the night. He found the dissonance between his own surroundings and what he saw on Addy's phone to be the most disturbing thing of all. He knew that if he kept searching, Addy would eventually wake up and catch him, so he gave himself five more minutes.

Eight minutes later, he found a reference to Christopher in a piece that was dated after the raid. It didn't actually name Christopher. It merely showed his picture, the same picture that had been everywhere only a few days ago. It was the picture of Christopher with his face smudged with dirt, aiming a gun at a man standing in the window of a building. It was the only picture that seemed to matter to the world until Evan's picture had overtaken it. Now photos of Christopher had virtually disappeared, slipped from the collective consciousness like the lyrics of a pop song. Evan was able to find only one site that ran the picture with an update after Evan had replaced Christopher as the most reviled man in America. Even then, Christopher's picture wasn't alone.

Evan found an editorial where the picture from Evan's license was at the top of the page right next to the picture of Christopher aiming his gun. The editorial, which Evan didn't bother to read, was a preachy piece discussing violence and the state of youth in America. Evan didn't care about the article. It only took him fifteen minutes of searching on Addy's phone to stop caring about what everyone was saying. All Evan cared about was the pictures. He found something satisfying about seeing his and Christopher's pictures on the site together. There they were, brothers in arms. They were equals in notoriety, soldiers in a cause. Evan decided at that moment that whatever happened to Christopher, he would make it right. Whatever everyone else's cause was, that would be his cause. Not right now, though. He knew he couldn't do anything now. He knew that Addy was making all the right decisions now. She understood this world far better than he did. They needed to make it to Florida. They needed allies. Without Abby he would already be dead by now. She had saved him, was saving him. She was tougher than he had any right to believe he could ever be. But he also believed—had to believe—that when the time came, she would fight with him. Evan knew that Christopher meant almost as much to Addy as Christopher meant to him.

Evan took one more look at the pictures. He burned them into his memory. Then he clicked the phone off and everything went dark. He waited a moment for his eyes to adjust so that he could put the phone back exactly where Addy had left it. In the dark, the sounds coming from the night seemed louder. Evan was going to have to try to get some sleep. He and Addy were planning to shop for supplies at the convenience store down the road in the morning. They barely had any money left, but they would try to scrounge together enough to get something to eat. Addy had told Evan not to worry about the money, that things would work themselves out. He knew that she was merely trying to calm him down. So he didn't worry about the money. When he could see again, he put Addy's phone back. Then he lay back down next to her. He moved his leg so that it was touching hers again. When she felt his touch, she rolled onto her side without waking up and placed one hand on his chest.

Reggie and Christopher never sat down in the Frankfurt airport. They had a two-hour layover, but Reggie wouldn't let them be still. He said it was safer to keep moving. So they walked. They walked past the tourists and the businessmen and the shops selling overpriced liquor and perfume and then they circled back and walked past them all again. “Why can't we sit and rest?” Christopher asked Reggie.

“I don't know this place,” Reggie told him as they strode past a woman behind a counter selling coffee and doughnuts. “Everything about this plan is fragile. A lot of people are going to have to know about it before it's all said and done, but if the wrong person hears the wrong thing, we're finished. It's over.” Reggie looked at Christopher without breaking his stride. “And if anything happens to you, then I've blown it for everyone.”

Two hours later, they boarded another plane bound for Singapore. Then they landed again without incident.

They had made it through customs without any issues and stepped into the gigantic main concourse. Christopher had never seen anything like it before. He'd never even heard of anything like it before. They began walking. “Where are we going?” Christopher asked Reggie as they walked.

“We walk,” Reggie told him. “They're supposed to find us.” Annie hadn't been able to give him any additional instructions. The people that Reggie and Christopher were coming to meet wanted it that way. Nobody trusted anyone.

The Singapore airport was spotless, crowded and almost distractingly quiet. Reggie was a man of ordinary height in New York, but here he towered over everyone that they walked past. He literally looked like a giant among men. “Well, finding us shouldn't be difficult,” Christopher said to Reggie. “Well, finding
you
should be pretty easy anyway.”

“Don't remind me,” Reggie whispered under his breath. They turned down a long, crowded, quiet corridor. Christopher could tell that the people around them were of many different Asian nationalities, but he had no way of knowing who was from where. It was simply a hodgepodge of foreign faces. They passed a few other white people. Reggie was the only black person that he saw anywhere. An Asian man in a maroon suit with a name tag on the lapel walked up to them. He bowed slightly in their direction.

“Can I help you find something, sir?” the man asked.

Reggie became confused for a second, wondering if this was some sort of trick question or some sort of code. “I don't think so,” he muttered when he recovered. “Can you?”

“If you are arriving, you can find transportation in that direction,” the man said, pointing past the giant koi pond laid out in the middle of the airport and toward the airport's exits.

“Thanks,” Reggie said to the man, realizing that he was merely an airport employee, nothing more. Still, they walked in the direction the airport employee had suggested if for no other reason than that they didn't want the man to grow suspicious. Besides, they didn't know where they were going anyway.

As they neared the koi pond, Christopher could see the giant orange-and-white fish swimming right below the water's surface. Tall plants, as tall as small trees, grew around the pond. A platform was built above the pond with benches on it and a small wooden bridge arched over a waterfall. They neared the pond and then they heard the voice. “Reggie?” it asked in little more than a whisper. It was coming from the bridge over the koi pond. A small man stood at the top of the curved bridge, gaining both height and vantage point in doing so. His skin was light brown and wrinkled around the sides of his eyes. He was wearing beige linen pants and a white button-down short-sleeved shirt. Reggie looked up at him. When the two men made eye contact, the Asian man nodded and beckoned them up onto the bridge.

“Reggie?” the man asked again. This time Reggie gave the man a nod of his head and stretched out his hand. The Asian man took it. Christopher watched the two men's hands fold together. Reggie was more than a full head taller than the Asian man, but their hands were of strikingly similar size.

“My name is Jin.” Jin turned to Christopher. “And you must be him?” Jin didn't say it like the people in the compound had said it. His voice was full of curiosity and devoid of awe.

“I must be,” Christopher answered without sarcasm.

“I've been waiting for you,” Jin said to them.

“Good,” Reggie said, “then we don't need to waste any more time.” He looked around them. Reggie knew that people were looking at him, but everyone around them seemed to be an expert at looking without looking like they were looking. “I'm not sure it's safe here. You can take us to where we're supposed to go in Singapore?”

“You're right.” Jin laughed. “It's not safe. But we're not staying in Singapore.”

“Then where the hell are we going?” Reggie asked Jin.

“We're taking a ferry to Indonesia,” Jin informed them. “Follow me. I'll get us there.” Then, without any more fanfare or assurances, Jin started walking quickly through the quiet halls of the Singapore airport, dodging groups of people as he went, and Reggie and Christopher followed behind him.

Christopher wished he could hide. He wished he could hide behind Jin, but Jin wasn't big enough to conceal him. He wished he could hide behind Reggie, but what good would that do? It would be like hiding behind the only tree in a desert.

They walked from the airport to the parking garage. Reggie and Christopher had their bags slung over their shoulders. Jin paused before stepping into the parking garage. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his car keys, gripping them like a weapon. His eyes scanned the rows of cars in front of them. It was the first time he'd stopped moving. Reggie and Christopher stopped behind him.

Reggie passed Christopher a look. “Is there something you want to tell us, Jin?” Reggie asked.

Jin smiled a conspiratorial smile without taking his eyes off the cars. “To know that you do not know is the best. To pretend to know when you do not know is a disease,” Jin said to them through that smile.

“Okay,” Reggie whispered to Jin through his teeth. “Is there something that you want to tell us that makes sense?”

“Come,” Jin said in a single huffed breath and then, without warning, he ran. Having long before gone past the point of no return, Reggie and Christopher ran after him. Reggie waited for a moment before he ran, pushing Christopher in front of him so that Christopher would be between him and Jin.

“Go,” Reggie whispered to Christopher before pushing him, and the word sounded to Christopher like an apology. Christopher ran, not knowing if anyone was chasing him, not knowing what he was running from. His feet pounded on the concrete. Jin ran silently in front of him, much faster than Christopher would have thought possible. Christopher could hear Reggie's feet pounding as Reggie ran behind him, but other than Reggie's footsteps and his own echoing through the dark, covered garage, he heard nothing. Jin reached the car well before Christopher and Reggie. By the time Christopher got to the car, Jin was holding the back door open, motioning for him to get in. Christopher dove into the backseat. Jin jumped into the driver's seat at the same time and started the engine. He put the car in reverse and pulled skidding out of the parking space before coming to a screeching stop, the car now pointed toward the exit signs.

“Wait!” Christopher shouted and reached forward to try to grab Jin's hand to keep him from putting the car into drive. For a second, he thought Jin was going to kidnap him, but he missed Jin's hand as Jin reached over his own. Then Jin pushed the passenger-side door open.

“Get in,” Jin shouted to Reggie.

Reggie leapt into the passenger seat and Jin stepped on the gas before Reggie could even close the door. The momentum itself slammed the door as the car lurched forward, and they sped toward the exit. Christopher looked out the window. He still hadn't seen anything. He still didn't know what had gotten into Jin. He turned his head and looked in front of them. He could see the light from outside the parking garage entrance. Then a man stepped out from between the cars to their left. He was another Asian man but was much bigger than Jin. He was probably almost as big as Reggie. The man stepped directly into their path and put his hand out as if ordering them to stop. Jin didn't even slow down. Already at nearly top speed, their car barreled through the man. The man's body hit the hood with a thump and flipped violently into the air. Christopher wasn't sure if the man's body flew backward or if the car simply sped under it, but the body bounced once off the top of the car and then toppled behind them. Christopher looked back in time to see the body hit the concrete behind the car. As it did, two more men came out from between the cars. One raced toward the broken body and one raced after the car.

“Behind us!” Christopher yelled to Jin before ducking down in the backseat. Jin cut the wheel hard to the left and the car careened around the corner, straightening out barely an instant before it would have rammed sideways into other parked cars. Christopher thought that Jin must be taking them to a different exit. He expected to hear gunshots, but the sound didn't come. Then Jin pulled another hard left. Then another. He kept turning until they'd circled back to the same stretch of garage, barreling back toward the broken body that Jin had already left in his wake. One of the other men was standing over the broken body, trying to help him. Everything was so loud—the screeching of the tires, the howl of the engine. Jin clipped the second man, having to turn sharply to avoid running over the body already sprawled on the pavement. Jin didn't care about the car, but he didn't want to risk pulling the man's body under the tires and hurting their chance of escape. The clipping was probably enough. The man's body flew across the garage and into one of the parked cars. Christopher looked for the third man, but he was nowhere to be seen. Jin didn't circle again. This time he pushed the car even faster and headed for the exit.

“What the fuck was that?” Reggie asked after the car raced into the light and pulled into traffic. Christopher's chest was heaving. His heart was pounding. Reggie looked to be in the same boat.

“Your trip here, unfortunately, failed to go unnoticed,” Jin said calmly.

“Did you know that was going to happen? Do you know what's at stake here? Do you know how important he is?” Reggie yelled at Jin.

Jin nodded. “This is why we are not staying in Singapore,” he said with some force as he made a sudden turn off the highway onto a side street.

“Where did they come from?” Christopher asked from the backseat.

Jin peeked at Christopher in the rearview mirror. Christopher was still lying low in the backseat, trying to avoid being seen from the outside. “From much closer than where you came from,” Jin told him.

“No shit,” Christopher replied, peeking out the window at the strange, giant, gray city surrounding them, full of huge buildings shaped like cruise ships and tall glass towers stretching into the sky.

Jin glanced at Christopher in the mirror again. “Have you been to Singapore?” Jin asked Christopher, all but ignoring Reggie.

“I haven't been anywhere before,” Christopher told him. Jin laughed. He slowed the car down and was now meandering through Singapore's side streets.

“Are we going to be safe where you're taking us?” Reggie asked Jin.

“Whoever can see through all fear will always be safe,” Jin answered him. Even in the backseat, Christopher could feel Reggie's frustration radiating off him like heat.

“Are you from Singapore?” Christopher asked Jin.

“Do I look like I'm from Singapore?” Jin asked him in return.

“I have no idea,” Christopher answered him honestly.

Jin shook his head. “I'm Chinese,” he said. “I used to come here on business when I was part of the War.” Jin didn't elaborate about what his business entailed. He stopped at an intersection and looked in each direction before moving forward again. “When I decided to run from the War, it made sense to come here.”

“How long have you been out of the War?” Christopher asked.

“Seven years,” Jin answered.

“Why did you run?” Reggie asked.

“Because if you do not change direction, you may end up where you are heading,” Jin answered.

“Are you going to talk to me like that the whole time we're here?” Reggie asked him.

“Have you ever been to Singapore?” Jin asked Reggie.

“No.”

“Have you ever been to Indonesia?”

“No.”

“Have you ever been to Asia?”

“No,” Reggie admitted.

“That's what I was afraid of,” Jin said to Reggie. “There's the ferry terminal.” Jin pointed a few blocks in front of them. “We'll leave the car here. We should be safe now for a little while, but always be ready to run. Can you swim?” Jin asked Christopher.

Christopher nodded, though the implications of the question made him nervous. “Are you coming with us?” he asked.

“I'll get you on the ferry, but I won't be on it with you. I have another matter to attend to.”

“More important than getting Christopher to the meeting safely?” Reggie asked him.

“Nothing is more important than getting Christopher to the meeting safely,” Jin replied. “We should say farewell here. We won't want to make a scene inside the ferry terminal.” Jin turned toward Reggie and reached out his hand. Reggie took it. Christopher watched them. Their difference in height seemed to have somehow shrunk between the airport and here. “When you get to Indonesia, a man will find you. His name is Galang. His English is spotty, but he'll take you where you need to go next.”

“Where is that?” Reggie asked.

“You don't need to know until you get there,” Jin answered. Then Jin turned to Christopher. Christopher reached out his hand for Jin to shake. Jin refused. Instead he lowered himself down onto his knees in front of Christopher. Once on his knees, Jin splayed his hands out in front of him on the concrete sidewalk. Then he lowered his head between his arms until his forehead actually touched the ground. Christopher wanted him to stand up. Christopher was embarrassed. Instead of getting up off his knees, Jin bowed two more times, each time lowering his head until his forehead touched the ground. When he finally stood up, Christopher could see a mark on Jin's forehead from the concrete. Christopher was still standing awkwardly with his unshaken hand outstretched. Jin still did not take Christopher's hand. This time Jin stared at Christopher and said, “When armies are mobilized and issues are joined, the man who is sorry over the fact shall win.”