Revolution (27 page)

             
"You know about the aliens?" he asked and cocked a suspicious eyebrow.

             
"Yep
, ran into
a few of
th
em.
They're a little chatty, if you ask me.
"

             
"How did you escape?"

             
"Well," I thought and said, "for one, I didn't use code names from Star Wars. I mean really? It's not like we have technology anymore. Who cares if they hear your name or not?"

             
"See, Earl! Told you it wouldn't matter," the one with the gun said out of the side of his mouth. He refused to take his eyes off of me. Dang.

             
"We have a whole bunch of us. We have a bunker where we stay with our fa
milies," I said and tried not to think about L.

             
"What were you doing at the Need warehouse?"

             
I cocked my head and said sarcastically, "Getting food?"

             
"Yeah, duh," he agreed. "And that girl you left-"

             
"That girl
you
left?" I corrected angrily.

             
"Yeah, her," he continued, un-phased. "She sure was pretty. That your girl?"

             
"No. My girl's at home
, b
ut she was my friend. And now I've got to find a long way back to her whenever you idiots finally run out of gas or stop for another killing spree."

             
"Them people ain't right no more," the driver commented and then spit out the window. The tobacco missed and dripped down the half way up window. I muttered a "Gross, man" but he kept going. "
They all messed up in the heads. Them aliens probed their brains or something."

             
"I know that," I replied. "I live with one."

             
"What'd you say?" he said, the fear evident in his voice.

             
"I said I live with one. And a whole mess of Keepers." I picked under my nails to seem like I didn't care.

             
"
Keepers? Them things they was talking about on the TV?"

             
"Yeah, them things," I repeated and leaned forward. "How did you watch the TV and not fall under their compulsion?"
             

             
"How come you didn't?"

             
"Don't know," I said and sat back. "I've never been affected by them."

             
"We ain't either," he said and spit again. "That's how we got together. When I wasn't walking around like a zombie, ol' Zane asked me how come I wasn't like the others. And here we are."

             
"Fascinating." I crossed my arms again and felt the stake under my jacket. The one in the corner was still asleep
and the one with the gun was getting really comfortable. "So how much gas you got, sport?"

             
"Enough to make it across the state line," he answered easily. "We'll let you out when we have to stop, but I ain't stopping 'til I have to."

             
The state line… The freaking state line! I couldn’t wait that long. It was going to take me an eternity to make it back as it was. Gah, I hoped Sherry was all right.

             
I watched gun boy. The second he loosened, I was making my move. And I didn't have to wait long. He let the trigger go to scratch his nose and I yanked the stake from my jacket and smashed it into the side of his head. Then I leapt to the back doors. They flew open and I wasted no time. I jumped.

             
I heard the van's brakes screeching and some yelling, but I just balled myself and prepared for the insane amount of pain I was about to be in. Even with my jacket, when I hit the pavement, my arm dragged a bit before I could make myself roll. I groaned, unable to stop myself, as my arm burned with invisible fire. I finally rolled off the road into the ditch and stayed there.

             
I tried to breath
e
normally, but
with my arm telling my brain that I was dying, it was a hard feat. "Holy…mother…." I growled. I felt around my upper arm. The jacket had been road-rashed away
,
and so had a few layers of skin of my whole bicep. It felt raw and slick. "Where's Miguel when you need something hilarious
ly inappropriate
to say?"

             
I heard the van doors close. I thought they might be coming to look for me
, but I heard someone yell, "Go, go, go!" And they went.

             
It was the first time I was ever glad to be abandoned.

             
"Screw you, Red Leader," I groaned as I stood. It was getting darker by now. I did not want to sleep in the dark. The monsters in the night came out and tried to tear your face off.

             
I glanced around, holding my useless arm, and tried to see if I could spot a landmark. All I saw was dirt and a dawn sky that held my fate for the night. I'd even lost my stake in the fight with the idiot. Dang.

             
I took to the highway and started walking. I walked for a good thirty minutes while I tried to think about something other than Lillian freaking out at the bunker and Sherry at the Need warehouse. All alone. Crap! Crap! Crap!

             
She better be all right. If she's not, Merrick won't have to hurt me. I'll kick my own… Oh, no.

             
The big blue road sign that I had somehow missed until then was a beacon of unwanted knowledge. "No! No! Man, come on! Are you frigging kidding me?"

             
That bastard sign said,
Effingham, Illinois : 47 miles

             
Translation?
Dude, you're screwed.

Linebacker

Sherry

             
The dirt flew. It
was like running on a beach as
I trekked down the dunes, trying not to trip as the Enforcer trailed behind me. I wondered if I was outrunning him. He hadn't shot me like I thought he would, which was weird, so I glanced back to see where he was. And that was when he reached me and tackled me to the
ground.

             
He slammed my arms over my head and breathed hard against
my face. He was young and built
nicely. Not like t
he pot-bellied Enforcers
I'd seen before. "Now, you've gone and made me dirty up my uniform," he said harshly…before laughing.

             
I squinted my eyes at him. Was he laughing
at
me? Was I so pathetic that
t
he thought that not only getting caught, but being humiliated with laughter was appropriate punishment for my lameness?

             
He finally stopped laughing and looked at my face. "What's your name?"

             
"Mary Poppins," I said sarcastically. "And you are?"
             
"Well, Mary Poppins," he said and chuckled, "I'm Enforcer Chesser. Nice to meet you."

             
"Forgive me if I don't shake your hand."

             
He laughed again. "We
ll
,
you're just a whole bucket of fun, aren't you?"

             
"I try."

             
"Well…what am I'm going to do with you now?"

             
"Um…let me go?"

             
He smiled. He had dimples. I'm sure he thought they were charming, but this jerkface was totally barking up the wrong tree.
"Now why would I want to do a thing like that?"

             
"Because it's the right thing to do."

             
"You've got a point," he said and stood, groaning. He stretched his back.
"Can you believe I used to be a linebacker? The good old days." He held his hand out to me as I continued to look at him as if he were a mental patient. "I won't bite." He grinned.

             
"Aren't linebackers the fat ones?" I asked as I let him help me stand.

             
"Nah. That's the lineman. Linebackers are lean and mean."

             
I sneered at him, "I can see that."

             
"Hey, you didn't have to run,
"
he argued with a smirk.

             
"Hey, you didn't have to tackle me!" I shouted and checked to make sure I still had my necklace. "Why didn't you just shoot me anyway?"
             
"I'm not in the habit of shooting beautiful women."
             
"You can keep your pretty lines for someone who eats that crap up. It's not me." He seemed amused by my rant. "And
I'm not going with you to the e
nforcement facility. I won't go back
,
so if that's your plan, you may as well sho
o
t me now."

             
His suddenly serious face worried me. "Won't go back? You've been to a facility before?"

             
"Yeah. Nice tile floors," I sneered.

             
"Listen," he said and held his hands up, "I don't mean you any harm. I stopped you so you didn't get stuck out here at night."

             
"Oh, really?" I poked his chest in my anger
at the situation, but he was telling the truth
.
That didn't stop me, however, from saying, "W
hy did you radio in for back-up then?"

             
"I sent them to another location," he answered calmly and smiled. "My last radioed in location was the Need Warehouse on Turner Street."