Savage Run (6 page)

There’s little time, so we head out into the
living area to say our good byes.

“
Just—don’t die right away,
okay?” Sergio says as I open the door.

“
I’ll do my best. Thank you
Sergio.” I hold my hand out and he takes it. We shake.

He smiles a little and then crosses his arms
in front of his chest. “Now get, get.”

Chapter 4

“
Life,” my father would
always lecture me, “isn’t meant to be lived in the shadows of
timidity. Man has a spirit of hope and faith.” I’m sure he would
vehemently disagree with how I’ve interpreted his
statement.

Gemma and I elbow our way through the
crowded streets toward the registration booth, clenching our fake
IDs in our fists. The wind blows through my short hair, and the sun
warms the back of my neck where my ponytail used to fall. It’s a
few minutes before noon, the time the registration will close, but
we should be able to make it just fine.

Soon I see Pavlova Yard. The square
cobblestone-paved area is enclosed by a large wrought iron fence,
and dozens of Unifers stand at attention guarding the premise.
There’s a canopy and above it waves a red flag with an abstract,
yellow saber-toothed tiger head. There are two registrars that I
can see. The woman—maybe in her forties—looks like she’s from the
East, with slanted eyes and black hair. She has wide shoulders,
strong legs, and a flat chest. From the look on her stern face, I
can only imagine that she’s had to fight her way to every promotion
in this man-dominating field. The young man—probably in his late
teens or early twenties—has tan skin and chestnut hair. He wears an
expression of serenity, and I get the feeling that I’ve met him
before. School? No. I’d remember him from there. Maybe I made a
delivery to him at some point.

Three sturdy boys—undoubtedly the last of
many here today—stand in the registration line, ready to gamble
their lives for a chance at a better future. They’re handing the
registrars their ID cards and signing something appearing to be a
waiver or contract. I wonder what circumstances drove the boys to
come here today—and if any of them are as desperate as I am.

Then I notice—at the end of the line stands
Arthor, a boy from my primary school class. He still has the fiery,
red hair, but now it’s longer and curlier. Why did he have to be
here?

Then I realize why. Several years back,
Tristan, Arthor’s older brother and an extraordinarily strong
Laborer, competed in a regional Laborer obstacle course in hopes of
winning food rations for his family. Every Laborer in our city
cheered for Tristan, whose presence in the race somehow brought
hope that good things could still happen to the subordinates of
Newland. But he didn’t make it. Tristan drowned after falling from
a one hundred-foot cliff. His family was just devastated—as were we
all. Right after finishing school, when we still kept in touch,
Arthor used to tell me how one day, he’d find a way to honor his
brother’s memory.

This is very bad for us. If he sees me, then
he’ll blow my cover.

“
What?” Gemma asks, when I
don’t continue on.

“
Arthor,” I
whisper.

She gazes into the yard. “Oh, no.”

“
The only way around it is
to wait until he leaves.”

She nods.

Once in a while, by passers stop to see
what’s going on inside Pavlova Yard. A few haven’t moved from the
fence since we got here. Looking closer, I recognize one of the
lingerers as Arthor’s mother. She’s clenching the iron rods,
pressing her face between the gaps in the fence, her red, swollen
eyes fixed on her only living son.

Eventually Arthor signs the paper and starts
to walk away from the registration booth. Behind us, a throng of
protesters enters the streets, waving their anti-Savage Run signs
and chanting: “No, no to the Savage Run waste!”

Taking advantage of the distraction, I say
to Gemma, “Let’s go.” Walking toward the gates, I reach up to touch
my locket, but when my hand is halfway up, I remember how it’s no
longer there. I lower my hand.

We approach the Unifer guarding the gate and
hand him our ID cards. My heart beats so hard that I think he might
hear it. Looking at us with haughty eyes, he hands us the cards
back and tells us to proceed. Moving ahead, I glance at Gemma. But
instead of a confident façade, her face is fallen and ashy and
she’s white knuckling her ID. With no time to spare, we pick up our
pace and run toward the booth.

Out of nowhere, a Unifer pummels me to the
ground and presses himself on top of me so I can’t breathe. The
attack is so sudden that I don’t even register a single thought
before I react. I scream, and somehow manage to wiggle my leg free,
kicking the Unifer in the groin. He rolls over, moaning and
grabbing his crotch, his face contorting in pain. As quick as a
cat, I hop back onto my feet and look for Gemma. To my dread, I
find her pinned beneath two of Master Douglas’s Unifers, and
they’re holding her at gunpoint.

“
Gemma!” I shriek, my heart
jumping into my mouth.

“
Heidi, run!” she
yells.

The Unifers look up at me and my initial
thought is to flee the scene—abandon my mission. Save myself. One
of the Unifers points at me and commands the other one to get me.
In a split second, a moment so condensed I feel like the bubble of
time might burst, I have to make a decision. Do I continue to run
toward the booth and save myself, and maybe Gemma, too, by
declaring that we both want to register? Or do I turn back and try
to help her? The Unifers are so large, and they carry firearms, so
I have absolutely no chance against them. But I can’t desert Gemma!
Although if I continue toward the booth, I might be able to save
her also by announcing she wants to register. If I try to help her,
we’ll both be taken into custody and back to Master Douglas. Some
seconds are so decisive that they have eternal repercussions.

“
Heidi, run!” Gemma
yells.

I spin around, hoping amnesty sets in the
moment I declare that we want to register, desperate that I made
the right choice. Instead of sprinting forward, I run into
someone’s chest, and that someone grabs my shoulders.

“
What’s going on here?” a
deep, direct, voice says.

I look up into his face and see that it’s
the male registrar. Our eyes lock for a split second, but I look
down quickly, afraid he might be able to tell that I’m a girl,
disguised as a guy, trying to register for the Savage Run. A split
second is long enough to recognize that he carries an aura of
confidence and power—this is a man used to taking charge and
staying in control. He’s built like an athlete: tall and muscular.
Then, it hits me like a brick from the sky. The registrar is
President Volkov’s son—Nicholas. I’m so done for.

“
I…we’re…we…we came to
register for Savage Run,” I stutter.

“
Sorry—the registration
just closed,” he says.

I take a step back and look into his eyes
again, pleading. “Please…just let us join. I know we’re a few
minutes late, but this is a matter of life and death.” I glance
over my shoulder and see the Unifer making his way toward me, and
Gemma struggling against the others.

“
First of all, a scrawny
guy like you shouldn’t be in this obstacle course. A stiff breeze
would knock you over,” he says.

I try not to grimace. If he only knew. “My
friend and I, we have to join the program and you have to let
us—it’s the law!”

“
Mai, come here,” he
says.

The female registrar makes her way over to
Nicholas, her eyebrows lifted, and her lips frowning. She’s wearing
plenty of makeup and smells heavily of roses.

“
Tell you what,” she says,
her dark brown, slanted eyes looking at me like I’m a lost
kitten.

“
No! We have to register
today!” I hear Gemma’s screams behind me and Nicholas looks in her
direction.

“
What’s happening over
there?” he asks.

Unexpectedly, Arthor steps up beside me. I
can tell he recognizes me by the way his eyes nearly pop out of
their sockets. “Hey, what are you doing here?” His smile reaches
all the way up to his green eyes, a touch of confusion in his
brows.

I feel like I’ve been punched in the
stomach, but somehow I manage to give him an angry look, hoping
he’ll know not to reveal who I am.

“
You’re coming with me,” I
hear a raspy voice behind me, a strong hand gripping my wrist.
“You’re under arrest.” The Unifer grabs both of my arms and starts
to haul me off.

I turn to Nicholas, and in a last-ditch
effort, plead with him. “Please…” His blue eyes flicker for a split
second, and then he squints. I know I’ve already lost, and now I’ll
be handed back to Master Douglas.

“
Wait!” Nicholas says.
“This young man has declared that he wants to register for the
Savage Run.”

The female registrar’s eyes flinch as her
pouty mouth drops open, but no sooner than she loses her composure
does she have it back.

Master Douglas marches toward me with
another Unifer in tow. I stop breathing.

“
She’s mine!” Master
Douglas growls. By passers stop and stare and the crowd outside the
fence is growing larger by the second.

A piercing blast rings through the air. I
jump at the loud bang, and try to wring myself free to look for
Gemma, but I can’t budge free. “What was that?” Master Douglas’s
lips bend into a devious smile, confirming my deepest fear.

“
Murderer!” I yell—my arms
and legs thrashing—and the noise that escapes my lips sounds like
the cry of a wounded animal. Everything I’ve worked so hard for
doesn’t matter anymore. Not if Gemma’s dead.

“
He’s signing up for the
program,” Nicholas says.

Tears spill out of me eyes and in a daze, I
say that I am, though the words don’t seem to be my own, only
someone else speaking for me. “And my friend—”

“
This girl is under my
jurisdiction,” Master Douglas says.

“
He’s not a girl,” Arthor
says. “He’s a friend of mine from primary school.”

“
And he’s here to
register,” Nicholas says. “Plus, his identification clearly
confirms it.” He grabs the card from my clenched fist and flashes
it toward Master Douglas. “With all due respect, sir, you’re making
a mistake.”

“
Don’t play me for a fool,”
Master Douglas spews. “This girl is my housekeeper’s friend—she
stole my housekeeper from me just earlier—I saw it—and she’s coming
with me! You know the laws of the land, don’t you?”

“
Every last one,” Nicholas
says through gritted teeth, his blue eyes turning black. He grabs
my arm and pulls me toward him, away from the Unifer.

“
The laws clearly state
that once…” Mai interjects.

“
I know the laws,” Master
Douglas says, grabbing my other arm and pulling it hard. “Obviously
you don’t know the laws pertaining to the Savage Run because you’re
about to sign up a girl! And even if she were a boy, he hasn’t
signed up yet.”

“
Once a Laborer has
declared that he wants to register, he’s considered the property of
the Army of Newland.” Nicholas’s face turns red and he jerks me
behind him so Master Douglas loses his grip. My arms
hurt.

Master Douglas’s eyes go livid, but Nicholas
steps between the Unifer and me. “We have a reporter from the Daily
Republic over there who’s taking pictures of today’s events.” He
nods toward the photographer leaning up against one of the
flagpoles, snapping shots of our interaction. “All the images will
be going back to my father. I know you used to work for him and
were dishonorably discharged. If I have to report to him that you
caused problems for one of our participants, making a scene at a
Savage Run registration, it might not be such a fortunate thing for
you.”

Master Douglas scowls as he glares at
me.

“
Don’t think you can
threaten me, boy,” Master Douglas says, reaching for his handgun,
strapped around his waist. “Just because you’re President Volkov’s
son doesn’t mean anything when it comes to the finite laws of this
country.”

“
Rory, I need security here
immediately,” Nicholas says into a small device clipped onto his
shirt collar.

Half of the Unifers guarding the fence run
toward us and surround the registration booth, pointing their
machine guns directly at Master Douglas and his Unifers.

“
I’ll be sure to tell my
father what you said,” Nicholas says sarcastically.

Master Douglas balks. “The second I get home
I’m going to notify President Volkov of your illegal actions and
I’ll have you discharged from your position as registrar faster
than you can say mercy. Mark my words!” He storms off with the two
Unifers in tow.

When I see them walk away, and that Gemma
has vanished, I start to walk toward where I last saw her. My hands
shake uncontrollably. “But my friend! He wanted to register, too!
They took him!” I turn to Nicholas, my mouth hot and dry, my tongue
sticking to the roof of it. “They took him, and—”

“
Your friend is dead.”
Nicholas places the registration papers into boxes.

Did he see her get shot? “We don’t know that
for sure.”

“
I do. Now what do you want
to do? Register or leave, it’s up to you.”

“
Then I’m out!” I
declare.

He looks up at me, his dark eyebrows
scrunching in the center, but not angry. “I wish you the best.”