The Limit (16 page)

A loud clunk made me freeze. The guard had made it about halfway down the hall, by the sound of it. A thin line of light appeared near the floor, under the door. Genius Goatee Gorilla Twin had realized that he’d have a better chance of finding me if he turned on the lights. It wouldn’t take long now.

I had to hide somewhere fast. Problem was, there just wasn’t anyplace to go. He was too close for me to try to get to a different room, and the shelves in here were too short for me to try to climb between. The shelves against the back wall ended at the right wall. It was smooth. No big broom cabinet for me to slip inside. I felt farther. My fingers rose over a thick vertical bump. I held my breath as I frantically investigated by touch
and found a waist-high horizontal bar. A door. If luck was on my side, it would be an emergency exit—and not one linked to a smoke detector.

Holding my breath, I pushed through the door. A gust of cool air hit me in the face. I breathed in deep. Fresh, nonfiltered, outside air.
Ahhh.
Before I could take my second breath, a loud clanging alarm blew apart the silent space. The guard would have no problem tracking my location now. It didn’t matter. The footrace was on.

The next thing I knew, giant floodlights lit up the grounds. I paused for a second, squinting in the overwhelming brightness. Then I ran, heading across the grass toward the trees.

“Get back here!” The voice sounded deep and angry and full of muscle. I imagined the guard tearing up the ground between us, jumping me from behind, and ripping me to pieces. I pushed harder.

I eyed the flat road stretching in front of the workhouse. The smooth surface would be less hazardous to run on than the obstacle course of the wooded area along the side, but running on the road seemed like a great way to get spotted and caught. I kept to the trees. Running. Always running.

Thanks, Coop, for keeping me in shape.

I MADE IT TO A MORE CROWDED
section of the city by morning. Had I only been walking for one night? It felt like a week. I could’ve lain down on the road and not even twitched if a semi truck zoomed by an inch away from my head. My grouchy, empty stomach made life miserable on a different level.

“Hand over your parental permission card,” Corn Dog Pushcart Man said, after I approached him.

Shoot. I hadn’t thought about my card for weeks. I couldn’t even remember where I’d put it in my room at the workhouse.

“I’m on a special program,” I said to the man. “Will you try the scan without the card? Please? I’m starving.”

I got my corn dog. Whatever accounting system the FDRA had me on at the workhouse apparently worked out in the real world too.

After squirting a giant glob of mustard on top, I sank in my teeth. Mmm. Heaven on a stick. I enjoyed
every bite, even though I knew it came at a high price. The instant Corn Dog Man took the eye scan, my identity and location were broadcast to anyone who cared to look for me, and I didn’t wonder for a single second whether or not the FDRA people were looking for me.

What was I thinking? Actually, I hadn’t thought very far beyond breaking out of the workhouse. I hadn’t even thought to bring my cell phone with me. If I’d been able to charge it back up, I’m sure it would have worked just fine out here. Where did I think I could go without the FDRA finding me? They had to know I’d head for home. Okay. Focus. My goal had been to tell my parents that Lauren was sick. It might also be good to ask them what was going on with our limit that landed her in the workhouse in the first place. All I needed to do was dodge the FDRA people long enough to talk to my parents. First priority, get as far away from Corn Dog Man as fast as possible.

Eye scans work for me out here.
I flagged down a taxi.

I slept most of the way home and had the driver drop me off a couple blocks away from my house. I jumped fences and ran through yards, staying out of sight in the shrubbery as much as possible. The closer I got to home, the tighter my stomach knotted up. Since the probability was high that a big black limo
was sitting in front of my house at that very moment, I sneaked in through the back door.

Once inside, I paused to catch my breath. Voices and music from the TV in the family room echoed through the otherwise silent house. I walked carefully, trying not to make any noise as I slipped into the family room to see who was watching the set. I don’t know why I felt I needed to sneak. This was my house. I had a right to be here.

I found Abbie on the floor on her stomach, mesmerized by people in weird costumes dancing across the TV screen.

“Hey, Abs.” I spoke softly, not wanting to startle her.

“Matt!” She jumped to her feet, ran over, and threw her arms around me. “You’re home. Did you bring Lauren? Why did you go away for so long?”

Now wasn’t the time to explain it all. “Where’s Mom?”

“Um . . . I dunno,” she said.

“That’s okay. I’ll find her.”

Instead of lying back down in front of the TV, Abbie hooked a finger through one of the belt loops on the back of my pants and followed me closer than a shadow.

We wandered through the kitchen, the dining room, the front room. No Mom. We tried upstairs next. That’s where I found her. She sat propped against a pile
of pillows on her bed, her bare feet bopping to the music pumping into her brain through her earbuds. Her laptop sat on her thighs, and the sound of her fingers tapping was like a cloudburst against a windowpane.

“Hi, Mom,” I said.

She sat up straight, pulled out her earbuds, and pushed the computer off her lap. “Matt!” She jumped off the bed and ran over to me, hugging me tight. “Miss Smoot called from the workhouse, telling me you might show up here. And someone came to the door, looking for you. In fact, he may still be . . . oh, never mind about that. I want to hear from
you
what’s going on. I hope you haven’t gotten yourself into any serious trouble. How did you get here? Let me look at you.” She pushed me out to arm’s length for two seconds, then pulled me in for more hugging. “I swear, you’ve grown taller in the three weeks you’ve been gone. They must be feeding you well at the workhouse.”

“I eat great there,” I said. “They can’t match your meat loaf, though.”

She loosened her hold on me and ruffled my hair. “I’ll make some for dinner. Will you get to stay that long?”

“Mom, listen, don’t worry about dinner. It’s Lauren. Something is wrong with her. Yesterday she had some sort of fit, and they’re not going to do anything about it.
She needs to see a doctor or go to the hospital or something.”

“It’s called a seizure, and she had an extremely mild one, from what Miss Smoot told me. I know they can be frightening. It must have been hard for you to watch.”

It was as if I’d smashed into a brick wall, killing my momentum. That word. Seizure. Some kid had one on the first night I was at the workhouse. I didn’t know a whole lot about seizures, but I
knew
they weren’t anywhere near as common as headaches. And Mom already knew Lauren had one. “Miss Smoot . . . told you?”

“Yes. I told you she called me a little while ago.”

Right. When Honey Lady realized they weren’t going to catch me before I made it home, she figured she’d better cover her tracks.

“It’s so sweet of you to be worried about your sister. But that’s my job. And your father’s—and believe me, we’ve done plenty. Miss Smoot sent us an electronic copy of Lauren’s medical records and assured us that the workhouse has medical personnel on-site. No children there are going to go without the medical attention they need. Lauren was thoroughly examined. We made sure of that. She’s fine. It was just a fluke.”

“A fluke? Mom, she’s been at the workhouse for what—six days? She’s never had a seizure before in her life. Do you really think that’s a coincidence?”

“What are you saying? You can’t think something at the workhouse caused the seizure. That’s ridiculous.”

“Why? At least one other kid I know of has had a seizure since I’ve been there.”

“I can’t worry about all the other kids in the workhouse. I’m just concerned with my two.”

“Well, what about all the headaches?”

Mom rubbed the side of her forehead. “I think I’m developing one right now.”

“Aren’t you going to do something?”

“About what?”

“Getting Lauren out of there!”

Shaking her head, she plopped down on the bed. “Oh, Matt. Don’t you think that’s what I’m trying to do? It’s what we’ve all been trying to do—ever since the moment they took you.”

I sat down next to her, reaching for the laptop. “Okay. Show me what you’ve been doing.”

“Show you?” Her eyebrows crinkled together. “How? It’s not like I’ve been drawing up pie charts and graphs.”

“Just show me the numbers in our account. I’m sure it’s all online somewhere.”

As I forced the computer on her, her fingertips balanced it on the edge of her lap. “Yes. I’m sure it is all on here somewhere.”

“Don’t you check it regularly? Mom! How can you
know how far over the limit we are if you don’t check the account? Did you ever check it before we went over?”

Mom looked like she’d just been stung by a bee. “I don’t like to worry about money. Dad always assures me we have plenty coming in and that he’ll take care of everything.”

“Great. That’s just great.” My breath came out in a big gushing sigh. “Mom, managing the account isn’t calculus. Heck, it isn’t even algebra. Basic, simple arithmetic.”

“Oh, no. It’s much more complicated than that. It’s got all that interest to calculate and the fines and fees to figure out.”

“Okay, but
you
don’t have to figure out that part. The software does it for you. All you have to do is take a look. Addition and subtraction are the only things you need to figure out how much over or under the limit we are.”

Abbie bounced on the bed behind us. With a loud, giggly squeal she launched herself at my back, wrapping her arms in a stranglehold around my neck.

“Knock it off,” I said, untangling myself. Turning, I saw her lips pout out and her eyes fill with tears. “I’ll play with you in a few minutes. Okay? After I’m done talking to Mom. Here, give me that.” I reclaimed the computer and within a few seconds found the site that would connect us to our family account. Mom placed her
thumb on the scanner pad, but she couldn’t remember the password. I had to wait for several minutes while she answered a long list of security questions.

“All right,” I said, taking over the computer once again. “Let’s see what’s going on. What I don’t get is why Lauren got taken away. How could we go over the limit when we were already over the limit?”

“Oh. That.”

“Tell me.”

She didn’t have to say a word. I could see it for myself. Two lines of account activity were listed for the very same date.

MATTHEW DUNSTON BROUGHT IN TO SATISFY FDO 169-D.

And then,

DUNSTON FAMILY LIMIT INCREASE ACTIVATED.

Our limit had gone up because of my work at the FDRA.
Glad to be of service, Mom and Dad. Anything else you want from me? A quart of blood maybe? A kidney?

“You knew about this all along?”

Squeezing her lips together, she nodded. “We received a phone call soon after you left.”

“Why didn’t they send me home as soon as you got the new limit?”

“They couldn’t.” Mom reached for a tissue. “If
you came home, we would drop back down to the old limit.
That’s
the one we have to get under in order for you to be able to come home.”

“And you didn’t even make an effort.” My voice grew louder as the picture of what had been going on around here came more clearly into focus. I started breathing fast, like I’d just come off a three-mile race. “You went over the new limit too. That’s what made them take Lauren. How could you do that to her?”

She blew into her tissue. “We
have
been making an effort. That’s what I don’t understand. The in-home care we had to get for Nana isn’t cheap, but we thought we had plenty to cover it. Even with the new car, we should have been fine. I didn’t even go to the store that day. I hardly bought anything online. Your father went to court to pay the fine for his accident—which really wasn’t his fault, so he shouldn’t have had to pay it in the first place. It was a good chunk of money, but we still should have been under the limit. And then I got the call that we’d gone over. We couldn’t think of a single thing we could do about it.”

So you sold off another child.

“You know what, Mom? I can think of a couple of things you could have done. How about stop spending money?” My voice was near screaming now. Blood pounded fast through my head. “Just. Don’t. Buy. Anything!” My chest
rose and fell in quick succession. “Turn this thing off, and don’t open it until both Lauren and I come home!” I slammed the laptop closed and hurled it across the room. It smashed against a wall and fell to the floor.

“Matt!” Mom’s voice burst out in surprise and shock.

I snatched up one of Dad’s heavy dress shoes off the floor by the bed, stood up, and chucked it at the computer with a roaring scream. The shoe hit the wall and left a black mark on the cream wallpaper. Maybe the mate would hit the computer.