Vagabond (20 page)

Daddy sighed. “Nikomedes, I know this is a tough question, but are you okay? I mean, have you had any inappropriate feelings for—“

“No! No! Daddy, I promise. I didn’t even know Berenike was— No.”
 

Mama nodded. She could tell I was telling the truth, and relief coated her posture. “Honey, unfortunately, since you and Berenike were so close, the Department of Human Relations wants you to undergo extra counseling.”
 

I wanted to cry. Berenike knew how much I had at stake. She knew that our friendship would cause this to be a blemish on me as well as her. How could she be so selfish?
 

Instead of the tears, I sucked in a breath. “I understand. May I be excused now?”
 

There was more than feet between us. A canyon had ripped open and we sat on the train trying to figure out how to cross it. There was no going back, and there was no way to change what had happened.
 

Ono opened and closed his mouth several times in an attempt to push words out, but he blushed each time. He finally got one out. “Knucs?”

“Yeah.” I twisted my finger around my hair. I looped it around and around my forefinger, as if that action would take me far away from whatever conversation we were about to have.
 

“I need to tell you someth—“

The screeching sound grew sharp on my ears, like a knife scraping against a sharpening stone. Without needing to hear more, I was on my feet to yank my pack on. The train was more than easing to a stop. It was undergoing the forced kind of halt, like something was wrong. It was still moving too fast to jump, but that would change sooner than later.
 

I tightened my pack, and Ono tightened his. “We have to wait a little bit longer. It’ll be safe to jump soon,” I said over the chug-chug-thumping in my heart. We grasped the edges of the boxcar, he on one end of the door, me on the other, and we watched the world change speed. When we jumped, our feet were slow on the fast ground, and we stumbled to our hands and knees. The scrape pulled out droplets of blood. “Damn,” I growled as I looked around. We had to jump without a plan, and it didn’t make our location any friendlier. There were no trees nearby. Just meadows and a cornfield in the distance. We had to get to the corn.
 

I ran in a full on sprint with Ono at my heels. There was a bang, and a whizzing sound grew soft to loud, then soft again. It was a sound set on repeat, and we were still a good hundred yards from the corn. Running through hay was like running through water. The vegetations only slowed us down, pulled at our ankles, and made the hundred yards feel like a hundred miles. The booms that lead into the whizzing only made me cry out, and this screaming helped me push my short legs harder. Ono could have overtaken and passed me by that point with his proportionally long legs, but he didn’t leave me. His hand grabbed mine in a different type of embrace— the embrace of survival and solidarity.
 

I wondered if he’d ever been shot at before.
 

“It’s a newer thing. The Militia posts up on a freight. They watch the Tracks for Vagabonds— slow the trains down just enough for them to get on and feel safe. Then, they wait until there’s nothing to hide behind but openness before they screech to a halt.You have two choices then. Stay on, wait for the inspection, and get shot. Or. Run and get shot at.”
 
Polo’s voice danced over the fire like he was telling a ghost story. “So, we ran. We ran like the wind, and the bullets were flying by. The bullets were like the trains themselves— the way they sounded through the air. They get loud as they approach, then grow into silence as they get too far away. It’s the loudest when it’s even with the ear. It lasts less than a second, but you remember the sound forever.”
 

“Did you get hit?” I sat on my feet to stoke the fire, and I used the movement to hide the worry on my face.
 

“No, but Mari got a flea bite.”
 

“A flea bite?”
 

“Yeah. It grazed her shoulder. She bragged about it for weeks. She still pulls out the scar when she wants to remind people she’s tough. She didn’t even treat it since we were out of Neo-spray, so it looks extra bad. She’s lucky she didn’t get Sepsis or something.”
 

I laughed. “No one needs to be reminded about how tough she is.” It was true. Mari was all vinegar and spitfire. She was the human embodiment of lemons on the tastebuds.
 

The stalks were tall enough for me, but Ono needed to duck down slightly. He tugged at my hand and added to my own momentum. We got lost in the ocean of green and bee-lined it to the other side. Once we got far enough out of range, we’d be safe, so we kept going straight. It was easier said than done, considering the rows were planted in slants, and we weren’t sure where we’d come out on the other side.
 

Ono paused for a minute and glanced at his arm. Blood drizzled from the place above his elbow. “You’re hit!” I gasped.
 

“Nothing to worry about. We have to keep going.” He shrugged off the concern and pushed me forward.
 

I reached out for his arm to look at the wound, but he shrugged it off and kept pushing through the stalks. I followed behind his bulking shape, hoping there would be good news when we reached the end of the corn. Then, we heard the dogs over our own panting, and they howled and sniffed out our trail. The soldiers weren’t going to just write us off. They were actually going to track us down! I wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all. They shouldn’t be allowed to have dogs. It made the hunt lopsided. I knew the dogs for the Militia had been bred into large wolf-like beasts, with keen smelling and hearing. I did a research paper on it once to target potential hearing markers in canine genetics to see if they were transferable. I knew everything about what went into making the beasts that were chasing after us, but I knew nothing about what it would feel like when those teeth tore into my flesh.
 

Ono and I pushed through the stalks, but each one lashed out and left paper-cuts on our arms and faces. I wished it had been cold so we’d worn our sweaters and jackets. At least, then, our skin would have been protected, but as it was, each lashing tore and ripped at our bodies.
 

It felt like hours, but we finally emerged on the other side of it all.
 

Only we came face to face with another meadow. There was a forest, but it was about a mile out— an open mile with nothing to hide behind. I didn’t know where the soldiers were, but I heard the dogs. We wouldn’t be through the meadow by the time they reached the end of the field. I stepped out anyways. I pumped my legs against the thigh high grass but felt a tug from the inert boy still holding my hand.
 

“What are you doing?” I screamed. “We have to go!”

Ono smiled sadly. “There’s only two of them.”
 

“How do you know?”

“The dogs. There’s only two dogs.”
 

“There could be more soldiers.”
 

This only made him laugh. “There won’t be. It’d be inefficient use of men.”
 

“How do you—“

“—know? I designed this tactic for my Exit Thesis.”
 

We had walked by the field of sunflowers with their droopy brown heads. “They’re ready for harvest!” Celeste exclaimed then taught us how to pluck the seeds from the back of the dying crowns. We had quite the collection in a satchel, and we washed them out by the river. Xavi spent most of the day cussing, because his fingers were too big for such tiny work, and he dropped more than he captured.
 

We even camped in the same place for more days then we intended so the seeds could bake in the hot, hot sun. The seeds gave us something to do on the long train ride north. The crack, crack, spit was a welcome addition to the train song. The time it took to eat them tricked my stomach ever better than jerky. I even felt like I’d eaten an entire plate of food when I’d only eaten a handful of seeds.
 

Celeste moved them in her cheeks like a squirrel to spit the shells out of the side of her mouth. The balloon of food wedged between her teeth and cheek caused her dark skin to bulge and stretch away from her mouth. She looked fascinating in her dreads and overalls painted against a moving frame of the world.
 

“One day, I want to be a Stationary,” she admitted.
 

I could never see her as a Stationary. She was a drifter, and you can’t change a drifter. I’d been picking up on the subtle hints she kept dropping. They were sweet hints that admitted she loved me, but wanted to move on. She was getting antsy.
 

Celeste craved changed the way change craved her, and I could never take offense to that.
 

Pretending she wanted to be a Stationary was just her way of saying, ‘I’d stay with you if I could.’

“You know, I’m going to miss you.” I knew I was breaking the rules by acknowledging her intent to leave, but I couldn’t bare the thought of her leaving without her knowing how I felt about her.
 

She gave me a knuckle to the head and rubbed my hair so that it threatened to knot in ways that would never be as cool as hers. She called it a noogie the first time she ever did it. “I’ll miss you too kid.”
 

“You
designed
 
this tactic.”
 

“I was raised for the Militia,” he spat. “Something of a prodigy.” He said it in a way that was not intended to brag.
 

“The point of this
tactic
?” The word tasted sharp in my mouth, like I’d swallowed needles or bleach.
 

“To Cleanse the tracks. The jetties were also another project of mine. I developed the idea when I was eleven.”
 

There was more to it than that. More. But he didn’t need to say it.
 

He was a spy.
 

He’d used me.
 

He wanted to find the Rebels so he could “Cleanse” us all. All the questions about the Rebels and Vagabonds crushed into me in a tidal wave. He didn’t want to join. He wanted to defeat. “No,” I whispered. I’d betrayed us all and told him so many of our Ways. I’d even given him myself.
 

The tears were hot on my face before I could stop them. They were angry tears, because I finally knew what pure anger was. Pure anger lacked all other emotions. There was no such thing as hate, or confusion, or questions, or hurt, or even betrayal in this anger. I knew all of that would follow, but right then and there, with the emptiness in front of me and the hounds bearing down on us, I could only feel angry that after everything, this would be my undoing.
 

“No. Knucs. Listen. It’s not what you think!”
 

“Not what I think? You set out to kills us all!”

“No. Listen. We don’t have time for this. You need to listen to me. For once. You. Need. To. Listen.” He put his two hands on my upper arms and held me so that my eyes could only look into his. I shook my head. I didn’t know how to listen. Listening had made me stupid and gullible. I’d been listening to him for weeks with his innocent chatter and sweet stories. Flea continued with his directions. “I’m going to stand out in the field. You will hide in the grass. Just lay down and stay hidden, no matter what happens. Don’t even try crawling, because the moving grass will draw attention. I think this can work. I’m undercover, so I can get them to listen.”

“Undercover?” It was strange to put a word on what I already knew. I didn’t want it to be true, but it was.
 

Ono tugged at my hand so we were running again, but the dogs were closer to the edge of the corn. “Now,” he said. He stopped and pushed me to the ground. He told me to lay still, but I was done listening to him. I moved and crawled through the tangled grass and prayed they wouldn’t see me.
 

Undercover? How could I have been so stupid?
 

Celeste grew small in the distance. She didn’t hop the next train with us.
 

She hugged me before I had to go. It was strange to be hugged by anyone that was not my parents, but the action was just as comforting. It taught me that home can be found in the confines of someone’s arms. It was nice… all the places I’d been finding home in lately.
 

Xavi just nodded. It was nothing new to him, and he’d seen it coming as much as I did. He only tolerated Celeste because of me, and he was a little glad she was on her way out.
 

I stared out at fields blurring by and rediscovered the concept of missing.
 

“You okay?” Xavi asked. The wind whipped long silk locks around his high cheekbones. There was a wild look about him, and it fascinated me.
 

I nodded, but I wasn’t. When she hugged me, Celeste whispered. “People aren’t always who they seem to be. I’ll see you again when you figure it all out. My bared teeth are broken chains.” She whispered it to me, so I knew it wasn’t for Xavi. It wasn’t meant for his ears.
 

“It’ll be okay, Niko. We’re like a million marbles rolling around, bouncing into each other. Sometimes, we chip another marble and alter it completely. That’s how it is, you know. Every time you connect with someone, you change in some way. It has nothing to do with time or proximity— impacts are unmeasurable. Some people change us in bigger ways than others. They leave bigger chips in the fabrics of our beings. Others are forgettable.” Xavi laughed. “I have a feeling you’ll see Celeste again. It’s a big crazy world, but it’s usually smaller than you think.”
 

“Nish.” Ono’s voice held authority, and the dogs whined as they halted and sat on their haunches. The Militia dogs for the Tracks must have had a safeguard word for instances like these— when they accidentally hunted down their own spies. I stowed the word away in my head in case I had the opportunity to share it later.