The Reaping (6 page)

“There it is.” Jack tenses next to me, his long legs and arms ready to spring. I can’t help thinking that he’s not made out for this, but he does this for me. I want to tell him to go back and that I’ll go on alone; I shouldn’t put him in danger like this. But my mouth is dry and he’s not looking at me. His fingers dig into the leaves underfoot, and his whole body is a live wire.

I turn my focus back to the train—it’s nothing more than a phantom gliding down the tracks—and soon I hear the hum Jack was talking about. It almost sounds like summer cicadas.

My muscles twitch, wanting to run toward the train, to get this over with. Jack senses some of my anxiety and puts out an arm.

“Quiet now,” he whispers.

The first car passes us, and there’s nothing to hint at its passing except the hum, a few red lights along the cars that glow faintly in the dark, and the mounted gun with the soldier manning it. Even in the dark I can tell he’s not relaxed like some of the soldiers I’ve seen. He’s hunched over the gun, his arms gripping it, ready to fire. He slowly swivels three hundred and sixty degrees, taking in the woods around him. The gun is so large it looks like it could tear through the trees if it wanted to.

Only one?
I write on Jack’s hand. I really don’t care if there’s only one gun. I’m writing on his hand just to calm myself down.

Jack shrugs his shoulders. “Sometimes. It depends on the train.”

I don’t feel good talking. I expected the train to scream and howl as it went by. Instead it’s almost as quiet as the unnaturally quiet forest. Even though we’re shrouded by darkness and foliage, I feel exposed out here. I feel like the train is listening.

“Ready?”

I nod. In the direction the train came from, I can see the lighter gray of nighttime fill in the space left as the shadow passes by. We both start jogging through the brush alongside the train. It’s quickly outpacing us, but we’re not looking to jump on now. My eyes are trained on the top, looking for another gun, but there isn’t one. This train must not be carrying medical supplies or even food. Maybe just clothing. Or maybe it’s empty.

We want to catch one of the last cars, one that won’t be inspected or patrolled until all the others have once we stop. Of course this is a gamble—we don’t know how these trains are loaded—but it’s a chance we’ll take. It’s the only way we’ll get to Salt Lake City in time.

We’re running full speed now as the last five cars come into view. We dart along the edges of the bushes. The gun is well away by now, but I don’t know if the soldier wears nighttime goggles and can see us.

Then Jack hisses, “Now!” and we dash across the open space in full moonlight. The train is going much too fast. My legs churn, and I don’t know how we’ll make it in time. A loud pop shatters the absolute stillness, and the ground by my feet explodes in a shower of dirt.

The soldier sees us.

“Doesn’t matter,” Jack gasps, his breath ragged. “Keep running. Make the train and we’ll hide.” His legs stretch longer as his arm reaches for a handle to slide open a cargo car.

I force my legs to pound alongside the train, faster faster faster. Jack has his hand on the handle and has managed to wrench open the door just wide enough for us to squeeze through. But still the train goes too fast. The gun fires again, but we’re too close to the train for it to hit us. I remember Jack’s story—how the soldiers spilled out of the train like ants protecting their nest. I eye the opening warily, waiting for soldiers to pour out, but none come. There’s nothing but black in there.

I’m running too fast and stumbling over my own feet trying to keep up. Jack clings to the handle with one hand and stretches out toward me with the other. My fingers fumble for his, and then I grip his hand and he holds me tight. The speed of the train starts to lift me off my feet. My arm is going to be ripped from the socket and I grit my teeth, but Jack doesn’t let me go. My legs cartwheel behind me, my toes barely skimming the ground.

“Jump, Terra!” His voice strains and the veins in his neck are bulging. He can’t drag me along like this for much longer. “Come on, we’re almost there!”

I gasp in a breath, urge my legs faster, and launch myself toward the open door. Jack heaves me in at the same time I jump, and he falls back on the floor of the train. Only my upper body clears the train, and I land on my stomach with my feet dangling into thin air, and all the breath is slapped from me. My fingers scrabble on the smooth floor as I slip several inches out the door. I cry out.

Jack’s hands clamp down around my wrists and he tugs me inch by inch onto the train. “You’re lucky you’re so skinny,” he says between clenched teeth, and I want to laugh, but there’s a fiery pain in my ribs. The absurdity of it all is not lost on me—running like maniacs for a train that by no stretch of the imagination would kill us, so we can go to the lion’s den to rescue some friends that may or may not be there. Now I can’t even take a breath without a hitch. The whole thing is ridiculous. And then there’s Jack, trying his best to help me relax because surely he’s seen what a wreck I’ve been all night.

Jack pulls back again, planting his feet and scooting away from the door until my thighs, then my knees, and then my feet are firmly on the train, and I’m lying alongside him, and I feel his chest hammering into my back as he struggles to catch his breath.

“We’re never doing that again.”

My lips turn up wryly. I haven’t told him this yet, but how else does he think we’re going to get to the ocean once we have Nell and Red? But then the thought stops dead in its tracks. How will Nell and Red possibly catch a train the way we just did?

I don’t have time to think this through—I honestly don’t want to think it through—and I try to stand, but I double over and clutch my ribs.

“Are you okay?”

I shake my head. Just touching my side sends pain shooting through me.

“Let me see.”

I slowly take my hand away, and Jack reaches for me.

“I’m just going to touch your ribs.”

I nod and squeeze my eyes closed. Jack’s fingertips touch my side so softly I can barely feel him, and then he presses harder. I hiss in a breath.

“Sorry. Just another second.”

His fingers trail from my sternum to my back bone with a constant, steady pressure, and I wince.

“I don’t think they’re broken. You landed pretty hard on them, though, so they’re probably bruised. You’ll want to be careful.”

I wrap my arms around me, and it hurts at first, but then the pressure on my ribs is soothing. My legs are burning and rubbery, and I wobble on them as I look around. The soldier fired at us, and he can’t be the only one to suspect we’re here.

Hide?
I write to Jack. He nods.

This car is practically empty. Cargo nets line the sides of the car, and one tall metal box stands in the corner.

“This way,” Jack says, leading me toward the back of the car. There are only two or three cars after this one. Then there will be nowhere else to hide.

Jack pulls me to the door that leads to the next car, but I stop beside the metal container. I peer up. The light in the car is dim, and the metal container is shoved into a corner full of shadows. I can barely make out the cargo nets swaying side to side above it. Jack looks back at me, wondering why I’ve stopped. I point up to the metal container.

“Up there? You’re sure?”

I nod. It’s perfect. This dark corner is the only half-concealed place in the car. They’d never expect us to hide somewhere so open. And honestly, all I want to do is lie down.

“Well, up we go.” Jack stoops down and laces his fingers together. I put a foot in the cradle, and he boosts me up. Reaching for the top of the container and clambering up makes me see stars, but I ignore the pain in my side. I can lie down in a minute, I tell myself. Just deal with it for another minute. I reach down and help Jack up. We perch for a moment on the edge of the container, and then I look back and the nest of cargo nets sways back and forth with the rhythm of the train. We start working our way into the nets. I’ve just dropped a net in front of me when the door on the other end of the car hisses open.

Jack and I both freeze. My fingers are woven through the mesh of the net, and I feel far too exposed. They won’t look up, I have to tell myself. That’s what you were banking on. Don’t doubt yourself now.

A single soldier steps through the door. His rifle is up to his shoulder, and he swings it side-to-side as he searches the room. Luckily he doesn’t have his night-vision goggles on. If he did, we’d be spotted for sure. I can’t see his face through his mask, but by the way his shoulders relax, I know he doesn’t think we’re here.

His head tilts to one side as he speaks into his walkie-talkie. “They’re not in this car either, sir.”

“They were seen boarding the train, and they can’t have disappeared.” The voice on the other end is clipped and harsh. “Where are they?”

The soldier lowers his rifle and his posture sags. “I don’t know, sir. It could have been a deer.”

“Were you wearing your goggles?”

Silence for a moment. I can imagine the guilty expression that crosses his face. “No, sir.”

“You are to search the remaining three cars and then report to command immediately. Then you’re relieved of duty. Maybe you’ll think twice about not wearing your goggles
when it’s nighttime
. That’s what they were made for, idiot.”

“Yes, sir.”

The soldier brings his rifle back to his shoulder and makes his way to the opposite door. When it slides shut, I take a deep breath and gingerly sink into the nets. I close my eyes. That was far too close.

“Don’t relax yet,” Jack whispers as he threads his way further behind the cargo nets. “He’ll be back as soon as he’s done.”

I bury myself in the nets and when I’m finally touching the cold wall, I find a net to lie back into. Jack has found a spot just touching me, and I reach for his hand.

“Are your ribs okay?”

Barely.

“Can you get comfortable?”

Maybe. How long on the train?

He purses his lips and shakes his head. “I honestly don’t know how fast these trains go. I think they’re supposed to be pretty fast. Maybe a day?”

An entire day to sit here and just wait to see if they find us. I carefully unzip my bag and pull out an energy bar.

“Don’t open it until that soldier comes back through here and is gone.”

I nod. The last thing we need is a crinkling wrapper to give us away. They’d only believe it was a rat for so long before they figured out we were actually here.

In a few minutes the soldier returns. He looks so defeated as he skulks across the car that I almost laugh. I peer at Jack from the corner of my eyes, and he has the same grin on his face. Relief washes over me. We might actually be able to do this. For the first time in the past three days, my muscles relax.

I slump against Jack and let the gentle rocking of the train lull me to sleep.

Chapter Five

When I wake up, Jack runs his fingers through my hair and brushes his lips against my forehead.

“Over halfway there, I think.”

Safe?
I write to him.

He nods. “As safe as it ever is. They patrolled about two hours ago.”

My muscles tense, even though there isn’t any immediate danger. Jack strokes my arm from my shoulder down to my wrist.

“Relax. They might be doubting what they saw last night. They didn’t even bother to look up. How did you know?”

I frown.
I know them too well. They never look up.

The left side of Jack’s mouth turns up. “Just like in the woods.”

I nod. These flimsy nets have provided the perfect spot for us—comfy hammocks and the best hiding spot we could have found.

Do they still think we’re here?

“It’s hard to tell. I don’t know if the patrols are routine or not. They look pretty jumpy, though, so they might. In which case, getting off may be trickier than getting on.”

I hadn’t thought of that. The most insurmountable task appeared to be just getting on the train. My bruised ribs are proof of that. But that was taking them by surprise. Now if they’re half-expecting us, there’s no way we’ll get off with just a few gun shots in the dirt and a half-hearted search.

What do we do?

“Honestly, I have no idea.”

The smile disappears and I take Jack’s hand. This is too familiar, this helpless feeling. Just like watching Red climb down all alone among the abandoned cars to go to the med drop or surrendering myself to Dr. Benedict’s loyalty serum. I focus on our goal—on Nell and Red—and try to wipe away the memory of being completely out of control. Jack squeezes my hand.

“We’ll find a way.”

I nod. Just as I do, the train begins to slow, and my breath comes in hitches as the panic rises in my chest.

“It’s too soon.”

Jack worms his way free from the netting. He dangles down to peer through the small window. I hiss at him and raise my hands.