Dissidence (16 page)

“
Connor, . . .”
What do you say to something like that?

He only shrugs and turns away from me, but I can still see his throat convulsing as he swallows repetitively.

“Well, we’re out now.” When he looks at me again
,
there’s a forced smile plastered on his face.

“Yeah . . . and headed back in.”

His smile grows until it finally reaches his eyes, and he releases a genuine laugh.

***

The next twenty-
four hours pass slowly and too quickly all at once. Before I’m ready, I feel the train beginning to slow, and that can only mean one thing . . . it’s time to go. Connor pries the door open, and it takes both of us to push it all the way up. Trees are still flying past us at an alarming rate as we stand in the doorway. If we jump at the wrong time
,
we could slam right into one and splat like a bug. Maybe I haven’t thought this completely through.

“There.” Connor has to shout to be heard above the wind roaring in my ears.

He’s pointing ahead of us, further along the track. It’s hard to make out through the tears that the wind is causing to pool in my eyes, but it looks like the forest opens into a field not far ahead. We can jump there without worrying about hitting a tree. It’s just the
ground
that’s going to hurt. Within seconds
,
the forest breaks. It is now or never.

I jump first,
and the ground slams into me—or I slam into the ground—
with so much force that it knocks the air right out of me.  Connor collides with the grassy dirt not far from me while I’m still struggling to get my lungs to pull in oxygen. 

“You all right?”

“I’m fine.
How about you?”

“Fine, but we have to move. We’re a little obvious standing here in an open field.” I head for the tree line a few yards away, and Connor hobbles along beside me.
“Your leg.”

“Just a twisted ankle.
D
on’t worry about me.”

We slip into the cool shade of the forest with my shirt already sticking to my back. I hadn’t noticed it inside the train car, but it’s much warmer here than it was
back
home. Connor lowers himself carefully to the ground and starts poking at his sore ankle.

“You want me to wrap that?” I ask, dropping down beside him. “I could use
my undershirt to
sor
ta
. . .”

I shrug, not really knowing what I’m talking about, and Connor laughs. “Nah, thanks, Girlie, but it’s not that bad. I’ll just rest it for a bit
,
and it’ll be fine.”

It doesn’t look swollen, and he honestly doesn’t appear to be in much pain, so I decide to let it go. Not that my medical expertise is so impressive that I’d have the slightest idea what to do about it anyway.  Besides, my time is probably better spent getting a look at the camp. It’s close enough that I can make out the perimeter fence and . . .  guard towers, oh goodie. Inside
,
it’s enormous. There are fields and fields of grain growing up all over the place, and people absolutely everywhere
,
planting it, tending it,
cutting
it. This may be harder than I thought.

Chapter 14

The sounds of the camp fade as darkness approaches. From our position, hunkered down just across the tracks, we watch as the fields empty. The workers and guards are gone for the night. That just leaves the towers. Oh, and the
twenty
foot fence with barbed wire on top, but one problem at a time.

The towers are spaced evenly along the perimeter of the camp, every hundred feet or so. And, from what I can tell, it looks like each one is manned by a single guard, all of them with their backs to us. Guess it makes sense that they would be monitoring the inside of the fence. Who in their right mind would be breaking
into
the camp?

Connor motions for me to follow him, so I straighten out of my crouch and hurry along behind him, across the tracks and into the shadow of the fence. We pace along the perimeter silently for several minutes, and I honestly haven’t the slightest idea what he’s thinking. There’s not a chance in hell we’re going to be able to climb it without being seen, or heard . . . or flayed,
but he’s not looking up anyway. H
is eyes are trained on the ground.

He comes to such an abrupt stop that I almost walk right into him, and points toward the bottom of the fence. I search the area he’s indicating, but I have no idea what it is I’m supposed to be seeing. With a frustrated sigh, he tugs me closer, so we’re both squatting right beside where the chain links disappear into the ground. Not all of them, though. A few have come loose. It’s not much to work with, maybe a half dozen links at best, but it’s a starting point.

Using our hands, we dig loose another dozen links. Then Connor uses all of the brute strength he possesses to lift it away from the ground. He gives it one good yank, and the entire section of fence jangles. We both freeze. I don’t think either one of us breaths for a ful
l minute, but nothing happens. N
o guards, no alarms, no bullets flying in our general direction. Connor slowly exhales, and then lifts the fence again, with slightly less force this time. He manages to bend it up about a foot off the ground. I have to lie on my stomach and squirm, snake style, underneath, but I do it without much trouble. I’m in. I take a
second
to acknowledge the pure stupidity of this moment before turning back to Connor.

It is significantly more difficult for me to lift the fence. Even using every last ounce of upper body strength that I possess, I can still barely get it as high as Connor did, and he’s a
bit
larger than me. Even lying flat in the dirt, I’m having a hard time believing he’s going to fit through such a small space. To my surprise, he actually manages to wiggle about half his torso through the gap before his shirt catches on a link. I try to free him, but with only one hand on the fence
,
it’s too heavy for me and threatens to fall on him, only making things worse. I can hear Connor swearing quietly as he squirms around on the ground trying to break free. After an eternity,
which was probably more like a minute in re
ality, his shirt tears, and he’
s able to slip the rest of the way in.

Connor replaces the fence and pats some dirt around the bottom, while I do my best to
memorize our location in the dark. This may be our best chance of getting back out again once we find Peter.

I park myself in the shadows along the base of the fence
,
and Connor follows my lead, sitting right beside me and leaning in to whisper in my ear. “
We’re in.
Now what?”

“We’ll wait here until morning. Once the fields fill up with workers, hopefully we’ll be able to move around without anyone noticing us. Then
, we can split up
and start looking for Peter. We’ll cover more ground that way. He’s a little shorter than you with brown hair and blue eyes.”

“Like that won’t describe half the guys in here.”

“Just ask around then.
Peter Cahill from colony D.”

“I’m not sure splitting up is such a good idea, Girlie.” His lips are so close to my ear that I can feel his breath on my neck with every word he says.

“We came here to find Peter. Are you going to help me do that or not?”

“Okay, fine. Just don’t go getting yourself into trouble when I’m not around.”

“When do I . . .” I drop the argument, appreciating its futility.

The next three hours pass cold and silent except for my heart, which refuses to stop pounding in my ears. I wait for the sun to rise knowing our last chance to turn around is slipping away. Connor wraps his arm around my shoulders, and I’m
once again
grateful for his warmth.

Second—and third—
thoughts about the sanity of my actions chase one another through my mind, until finally sounds arise from across the camp. People are starting to pour from the small structures lining the far side of the fields just as morning breaks
through the comforting darkness, i
ts bright rays make
me feel utterly exposed.

Connor and I duck into the rows of tall stalks, and wait for the others to reach us. When the camp has flooded with wor
kers, I head toward
the fields on the far side
of the camp
. Moving against the flow of bodies, I get more than a few strange looks, plus an elbow here and there, but eventually I break through the tide and find myself near a field that’s being seeded.

Bags of seeds sit out on a table along the side of the field, and workers seem to be helping themselves to them. I’ve stood out enough already today, so I join the queue and take the sack that’s handed to
me. As I follow the others out o
nto the plowed soil, I notice that the bags are all labeled ‘
Permatech
.’ Seriously, what
is
that? And, what does it have to do with an iron mine and a wheat field?
On second thought
, I probably don’t want to know.

I spy the people around me as I work. Moving quickly, I replace my seed bag as often as possible just for the chance to move around some more.
Still no Peter.
The heat is starting to catch up with me, and I’m growing weary. I’ve just decided to temporarily abandon the search and settle in for a while when I hear his voice.

Chapter 15

“Leigh? Leigh!”’

Peter’s kneeling on the ground peering up at me like he’s just seen a ghost. Dirt is smeared across his forehead, and it’s obvious how it got there when he absently swipes his unruly hair from his eyes. He’s changed. His hair is longer than I can ever remember seeing it, and his skin is almost bronze from his time spent in the sun. The way his sweaty shirt clings to his frame makes it abundantly clear that the lanky boy I left behind is not the same one in front of me now.

Shaking off his astonishment, he rises to his feet, and I get treated to an up close encounter with his newly acquired physique when he pulls me into an embrace so solid and tight that I’m
forced to gasp for air.

“Are you all right?” He pulls back to look me over. “I can’t believe you’re here. You have no idea how worried . . . Come on
.” H
e surveys the area, remembering where we are, and pulls me with him back into the field where his sack of seeds sits unattended.  “So, are you okay? Where have you been? Leigh?” Worry lines crease his brow, and I realize I’ve been stunned speechless by the sight of him. I don’t think that has ever happened to me before.

“I . . . I’m fine.”
My proclamation doing little to ease the concern on his face.
“Really.”

“When did you get here?” With one more visual sweep of my body, he seems content that I’m at least in one piece and moves on to more . . . dangerous ground. “Did they transfer you?”

“Not exactly.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? You weren’t transferred here? Then how did you get here? Where have you been?”

“That’s kind of a long story.”

“Good thing we have all day then.” He’s grinning at me like an idiot, but I can’t bring myself to return it, knowing he won’t be so thrilled once he knows the truth.

“You were right
.
I never should have gotten on that train. I should have listened to you. I’m sorry.” Glad we got that out of the way.

“No, Leigh, that doesn’t matter now. Look around. You think just not showing up for your train ride would have stopped them?”

He’s right, we probably would have ended up right here anyway, but I still felt like I owed him the apology. And that wasn’t even the hard part of what I need to tell him.

“So
,
what happened? Where did they take you?”

“Another work camp, sort of like this one.”

Peter frowns and nods like he
ex
pected
my answer. “H
ow did you get here then?
If they didn’t transfer you?”

This one he won’t be expecting. “I ran away.”

“You what?”
He looks genuinely perplexed
,
as though my words make no sense to him at all.

“From the camp,” I clarify. “Me and a friend of mine, we escaped and ran into the woods. We hiked all the way back to colony D.”

“You went home?”

“I went to find you, but you were gone.”

“I was here,” he mumbles more to himself than me, like he’s trying to work out a particularly difficult problem.

“I know.”

“But then . . . what are you doing
here
?”