Truancy Origins (15 page)

Dear Father,

I know everything. Zen knows everything. He has run away. I'm going after him. I won't be back. Good-bye.

Love, 
Umasi

As Umasi opened the door, he spared one last look at his old life. And then he was gone.

 

R
ed eyed the fruit stand as he walked amidst the crowd, his stomach grumbling in anticipation. His better judgment had argued against returning to strike District 5 so soon, but he was emboldened by his previous success, and his stomach had prevailed over that better judgment. There were many stands in the City that peddled fresh fruit, but as far as Red was concerned, the one in his sights was the greatest. The modest display of produce looked to Red like a feast from paradise, all of it within about twenty paces of his grasp.

Red continued walking along with the flow of pedestrians towards the fruit stand. It would be a risky maneuver, he knew, as there wasn't an immediate escape route available. Still, Red was fairly sure that he would be fast enough to make it to a border alley across the street, provided that enough pedestrians remained indifferent; after all, running away was still his area of expertise. Once he made it to the alleys, Red knew he would be safe. No one but an Enforcer would dare chase a vagrant into an abandoned district.

His mind made up, Red readied himself as every step brought him closer to the stand. Red saw a woman stop to buy some cherries from the proprietor—a perfect distraction. Drawing up to the stand at last, Red swiftly grabbed a plastic bag from the stand's supply and piled into it a heap of apples and oranges, the two closest fruits, before either the woman or the proprietor could notice that he was a vagrant.

And just like that, Red was off like a rat, the plastic bag full of fruit slung heavily over his shoulder as he ran. A moment later Red grinned as he heard the expected cry of outrage from the proprietor.

“Stop that kid! He's a thief!”

Red's grin quickly faded, however, as he was
not
expecting to hear what came next.

“Out of the way! Give us a clear shot!”

Red spared a backwards glance and felt his blood run colder than the winter air. There were two men in blue uniforms, holding pistols and running towards him at top speed.
Enforcers.
Red thought he had been running as fast as he could, but his legs instantly doubled their effort at the sight.

Then a gunshot went off, and he could hear screams.

“No, you idiot, not with civilians around! Chase him into District 8!” a
deep voice shouted. “If you'd hit anyone the Educators would've served you up in the school cafeterias!”

“Sorry, Rothenberg, sir!”

Red found that he could yet run a little faster upon hearing the name Rothenberg. Up until that moment, he had never known exactly how much he and all vagrants had come to fear that name, but now that he was actually being pursued by the man himself, Red found a sick feeling of dread building up in his already-suffering gut.

“Watch where I'm going? How about you watch who you're talking to!”

“Get out of his way, urgent Enforcer business!”

In spite of everything, Red managed a grin. Apparently the Enforcers had bowled over some angry pedestrians in their haste to get at him.

And then he reached the open mouth of the alley, the walls spread to either side like welcoming arms. Red darted in without a moment's hesitation. From the sounds of angry cursing and argument behind him, Red knew that he'd probably have plenty of time to make good his escape. He smiled to himself as he proceeded down the alley, slowing down to an almost leisurely pace.

And then he froze, stunned by what he saw before him.

Standing there, motionless save for slight shivering, was a very pale, hauntingly thin girl with filthy black hair that messily fell down to her shoulders. She seemed so incredibly
small
that at first Red thought the girl must be about ten years old, but he quickly decided that she was more like thirteen, albeit extremely thin and hunched over, making her seem unnaturally tiny. All of these things were odd by themselves, but none of it was what had frozen Red in his tracks.

It was the eyes. Even in the dim lighting of the alley, the eyes were an icily light blue, as if they possessed a pale luminance in and of themselves. They were wide open, unblinking, as if permanently fixated upon some invisible horror that only they could see. With one brief glance into those icy orbs, Red could see unspeakable pain, shock, and fright in those eyes, enough to send shivers down his spine. Whatever this girl's story was, Red pitied her instantly.

Shaking himself out of his stupor, Red reached into the plastic bag and drew out an apple, which he thrust into the girl's hands as if to buy off that icy stare of hers. The girl didn't move, and gave no indication that she had noticed Red or his apple at all.

And then loud, angry voices and heavy footsteps approached the alley, and Red's survival instinct kicked in. He quickly glanced farther down the alley. The path seemed to branch off into two different directions, which would force the Enforcers to split up, unless . . . Red scanned the sides of
the alley and spotted a fire escape that led up to the roofs of one of the buildings. Perfect.

“You should run,” Red advised, turning to look back at the girl. “Enforcers are coming, you can't stay here.”

She didn't seem to hear him, and much to Red's concern simply remained staring straight ahead with those haunting blue eyes.

“You might get killed if you stay here!” Red warned urgently, shaking the girl with one arm. “You have to run!”

The angry noises drew closer now, almost to the mouth of the alley, and Red groaned as he released the girl. Left with no other choice, he dashed over to the fire escape. Climbing as nimbly as he could—and he wasn't bad at climbing—he just managed to slip up onto the roof as the two Enforcers plunged into the alley below. His heart beating wildly, Red peered cautiously over the edge of the building, his curiosity refusing to let him leave until he found out what would happen to the strange girl.

Red held his breath as the Enforcers slowed to a halt down below.

 

W
ell, what have we here?” Rothenberg said, rubbing his hands together at the sight of the helpless vagrant.

“Looks to me like an accomplice to that thief,” his partner said, seizing the girl's arm and squeezing so tightly that she dropped the apple instantly. “Will you handle the questioning, sir?”

Rothenberg didn't answer at first. Instead, he slowly bent down to retrieve the apple, contemplating it for a moment. Then he suddenly snapped upright, shoving the apple into the girl's face. The girl flinched, but didn't make a sound as Rothenberg leaned over to look her in the eyes, their faces separated by no more than an inch.

“There was a boy here,” Rothenberg said with deceptive calm. “He
stole
this apple. Where did he go? Which path did he take?”

Still watching from up above, Red tensed, ready to bolt at a moment's notice should the girl give him away. But mystifyingly, seconds passed without the girl saying anything. She merely continued to stand silent and motionless. Red wondered at this behavior. Was she trying to repay him for the apple by keeping quiet?

No, Red decided a moment later, after examining the girl's features. She was just
scared.
Too terrified to speak. He could tell by the way her icy eyes widened, how she stood stiff like a board, petrified.

“Answer me!” Rothenberg boomed, his furious words echoing throughout the alley.

Red could see the girl cringe, her eyes widening even further at the Enforcer's outburst. Another tense moment passed, and still the girl said
nothing. This time Rothenberg smashed the apple into the side of the girl's head, causing flecks of apple to fly everywhere.

Red gritted his teeth in anger, and for one reckless moment entertained the idea of announcing his presence to the Enforcers below. But no, there was nothing to be gained from that. If half the stories about Rothenberg were true, he'd just kill the girl first and then come after him.

“If you do not answer me, I will hit you again, harder,” Rothenberg said bluntly.

Red clenched his fists, furious at the injustice occurring below him. Rothenberg surely knew that his efforts were only terrifying the girl further, making her only less likely to talk. But Red knew enough about Rothenberg to understand that that was probably what the Chief Truancy Officer was really after.

As if to punctuate this thinking, Rothenberg at that moment chose to make good on his promise, and slammed the hard apple onto the girl's head again, harder, eliciting a whimper but no answers.

Red felt a sudden surge of guilt. If he hadn't given the girl that apple, perhaps none of this would be happening. A moment later, he scolded himself for thinking that. He knew what was going on. Having failed to capture him, Rothenberg was instead taking his frustration out upon the first helpless child he could lay his hands on.

The girl had begun to tremble visibly, dazed by the blows. Rothenberg slowly shook his hand to free it of mashed apple. For his part, he thought he was doing good. If there was one thing that Rothenberg couldn't stand, it was a disrespectful child, and wasn't fear the ultimate sign of respect?

Rothenberg now spoke again, this time his voice so deadly that Red hugged his arms to his chest as chills spread across his body.

“Hold her still,” Rothenberg ordered his partner, who obediently seized the girl firmly by both shoulders. “We'll get some answers out of her, one way or another.”

Rothenberg reached for his belt and drew something shiny out of a small sheath. As it caught the dim light of the alley, Red suddenly realized what it was.

“You
bastard,
” Red breathed.

It was a knife. At the sight of it, the girl's blue eyes widened even farther, and for the first time a tear ran down her cheek. By now, however, she was so overcome by fright that she couldn't do so much as whimper, much less talk—not even to save her own life.

“See this?” Rothenberg said, bringing the knife up to the girl's face. “This represents your last chance to cooperate.”

Red shook with silent rage. The sight below was horrifying even to eyes
as experienced as his—and yet he couldn't look away. The worst part for him was that he could be nothing more than a spectator; there was nothing he could do now that wouldn't result in both him and the girl dying. And as a vagrant, one's own survival
had
to be the first priority. Had to be.

But none of that made it any easier for Red to watch what unfolded below.

In one quick motion, Rothenberg made a cut across the girl's left cheek. It was shallow, but the wound stretched across her entire lower face, ending at the bottom of her chin. Red knew from a glance that the ugly gash would disfigure her for life at the least. Her tears, now pouring freely, mingled with her blood. Red silently cursed himself, wishing that he were good at more than just running away, certain now that he'd be watching the innocent girl die right before his very eyes.

And then, without warning, the impossible happened.

 

I
t was strange, Umasi thought, how one could be walking along the crowded streets of a bustling City, surrounded by people on all sides, and still manage to feel completely alone. He had only very rarely explored the streets outside of District 1, and though he could navigate his way through the City well enough by its street signs, he felt as though he were in a completely alien world as soon as he had passed out of his familiar neighborhood.

Umasi had been in a hurry to leave District 1 in order to avoid being recognized by anyone he knew, but as he meandered aimlessly through District 2, the unfamiliarity of his surroundings quickly brought home to him the seriousness of his situation.

He was all alone now. There was no turning back, and there would be no one to help him anymore. Somehow, the full weight of that realization failed to impress itself upon Umasi. It was an awful lot to take in all at once. After all, in just one day, his entire world had been shattered at its very foundations. The previous day he had been a normal student buckling under the weight of his responsibilities. A normal student, burning with anxiety as his brother planned mass murder, while contemplating how his own father had been using him as an experimental guinea pig.

Well okay, so maybe some things were better now.

But on the other hand, he was a vagrant. Umasi shuddered at the term. Neither student nor Truant, he'd done the unthinkable—fled from his comfortable home without knowing where to go. What was he going to eat? Where was he going to sleep? How was he going to find his brother? What was he going to do if he did?

Umasi paused at an unfamiliar street corner, realizing that he hadn't thought things through before running out the door. Zen must've faced the
same questions himself, Umasi knew, but his brother had had weeks to answer them all and more. Umasi adjusted his glasses absentmindedly as his brows furrowed with thought. Where would Zen have gone? Umasi knew that Zen didn't trust anyone enough to stay at someone's house, and he surely wouldn't have risked sleeping in a hotel. He couldn't even sleep on the streets without risking being seen, unless . . .

The abandoned districts.

Umasi frowned at his conclusion. Every child in the City was taught never to go near the abandoned districts, overrun as they were by thugs and vagrants who would kill you for the clothes off your back. But if Zen was prepared to go there, Umasi was prepared to follow.

But this presented a new problem for Umasi:
Which
abandoned district would Zen go to? It was a baffling question. Umasi knew that there were dozens of abandoned districts throughout the City, but he didn't even know which ones they were. He couldn't exactly go back home to research the subject, nor would he be safe visiting a public library to find out . . . and it definitely wasn't the type of question to just ask any random stranger off the street.