Dissidence (25 page)

I knew something was going to have to happen eventually, one way or the other. We couldn’t just go on camping out at L forever. But, I think, deep down, I always expected it to go the other way.
For some horde of guards to come rolling in and drag us all away.
With
Hixon’s
help, I’m starting to believe for the first time that things may actually stand a chance of working out in our favor. And, despite my trust issues, it is nice to leave things up to someone else for a change.

I’m bouncing around like
some kind of lunatic on crack
while Peter reclines on one of the couches. Under normal circumstances, I’d smack him for laughing at me, but feeling this happy is a rare thing for me, so I choose to indulge in it and laugh along with him instead. After about ten minutes of temporary insanity, which may or may not have included something similar to a victory dance, all of the crazy sort of drains out of me
,
and I slump onto the other couch, completely wiped out.

“You should get some sleep.” Peter’s still grinning at my display. “It’s getting late, and I think I just watched you exert more energy than you’ve ever used before in your entire life.”

I must be spiraling back to reality because the urge to slap him has returned full force. Unfortunately, he’s right, and the three feet of space between us just seems insurmountable at the moment.

“You were awfully quiet in there.” I’m surprised he isn’t more excited.

“He’s helping us escape. What more was there to discuss?”

“How about,
‘
why
’
?”

“Who cares as long as we’re getting out of here?”

“Maybe the people we’re bringing back . . .”

“One step at a time, Leigh.
Let’s get
the heck outta here first. Then
we can decide whether or not we’re coming back.”

“You don’t trust him?” It’s sad to see Peter’s faith in humanity fading.

“I’m not sure. All I want right now is to get the two us as far away from Jackson as possible.”

“Given, but after that . . .”

“After that, we’ll figure out our next step, all right?”

“Okay, Peter.” Well, that took the wind right out of my sails.

Deflated, I lie back on the couch and count the many cracks crisscrossing the ceiling. I’m sure Peter’s having about as much luck sleeping as I am, but we’re both too tired to talk anymore. It’s been a ridiculously long day, in a string of ridiculously long days. Just recounting everything to
Hixon
earlier was exhausting, but maybe, just
maybe
,
this will turn out to be the beginning of the end of all that.

I’ve only dozed off for a second when there’s a brisk knock at the doo
r. Peter tells me to stay put—like that’s going to happen—
and goes to answer it. The dark hallway’s empty
,
and my sleep deprived brain is a little confused. Was that supposed to be our signal? Something a little more obvious, like
a blinking neon sign reading
‘s
ignal’ would have been nice
.

“Let’s get out of here.”

‘Duh’ is the response begging to be set free, but I’m able to rein it into just a nod. I keep waiting for Jackson to show up with his handcuffs and blindfolds all the way back to the train station, but Mayor
Hixon
keeps his
word
,
and we have smooth sailing the entire way. I’d almost forgotten what it felt like to have things actually go according to plan for a change. Part of the plan or not, though, the next two and a half hours are
sucktastic
. We spend them standing around, freezing our butts off, waiting for the train to come and collect us, so everyone
just has
to excuse my lack of social skills when I immediately isolate myself in a private compartment and face plant on the bed.

***

“Have you heard the news?” We’ve been traveling for about half an hour, and the gentle sway of the train is on the verge of rocking me to sleep when Peter bursts into my compartment without even bothe
ring to knock.
“Of course not.
Y
ou don’t talk to anyone.”

That’s right, bust into my room, disrupt my nap, and now insult me.
My best friend, ladies and gentlemen.

“I talk to
you
, so what news?”

“At least three more camps have rebelled. Two of them are onboard with us, and they’re sending the train back to pick up the workers from some mines in a few days.”

“What kind of mines?
Iron or coal?”

“I don’t know, but did you hear me? Leigh, this is really happening. Connor was right.”

“I know. That’s great, but, Peter, please can you find out which mines it was? It’s important.”

He looks a little disappointed with my reaction, but goes to do what I asked without questioning it further. It doesn’t take him long.

“It was the iron mines,” he informs me, after knocking this time around. “Colony E. That’s where you were, right?” He asks it casually enough, but the words come out a little strange as his jaw tenses along with the rest of his body.

“Yeah.”

“And your friend that you were telling me about . . . she’s still there, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, Lori.”

I can’t fight my grin, and Peter’s posture loosens. “Well, if she joins us, then I guess you’ll be seeing her again in a few days.”

“Oh, she’ll join us.” Of that
,
I have no doubt.

“Then I look forward to meeting her.”

I can’t wait to get back so I can tell Connor. Lucky for me, he’s waiting for us at the station
when we pull in.

“Girlie!” I step out onto the platform, and then have to wait another minute and a half to tell him as I recover the breath he squeezed out of me with his rib cracking hug.

“We did it,” I wheeze.

“You got the supplies?”

“Better. We got help. The mayor offered to help us sneak everyone who needs medical treatment into the hospital at colony D.”

“How did you manage that?”

“It’s a long story.” One I’m not particularly keen on reliving at the moment.

“Well, that’s great! Good work.” Pet
er and I both accomplished it—
probably more Peter than me
—
but I’m the one Connor’s grinning at as he congratulates us.

“There’s more.” I’m practically bouncing on my toes, and even Peter’s having a hard time fighting a smile at my exuberance.

“What’s that?”

“The iron mines rebelled!” I shout it like ‘Happy birthday’ or ‘Happy New Year’ or something else happy, and it is . . . except, Connor doesn’t look too happy about it.

“Good. That makes three more camps joining our ranks.”

“And Lori.”
I’m stating the obvious here, but it doesn’t seem to be that way to him.

“And Lori.”
His lips press into a plastic smile that fails to reach his eyes.

I’m teetering on the edge of my freaky rendition of my girly-
twirly
-victory-dance take two when Connor’s distinct lack of enthusiasm sinks in, bringing me down a notch or two. For that I’m grateful, but . . . “Why aren’t you more excited about this, Connor?”

“Because, Girlie.” He frowns, taking a look around at the bustling station, and pulls me off to the side. “I just don’t want to see you get
your hopes up too high, that’s
all.”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

A pained expression mars Connor’s handsome face. “
Kaleigh
, you know Lori’s older than most workers, and she isn’t particularly strong.” The memory of what Connor told me about his mom floats to the surface, and I understand the raw pain in his eyes. “I’m not saying she didn’t make it, but you know as well as I do that when the fighting started
,
she wouldn’t have just gone and hid somewhere.”

“You think she’s dead?” The shock of the possibility is overwhelming.

“I’m not saying that. I’m just saying that I want you to be prepared . . . just in case. I don’t want to see you get hurt, Girlie.”

If that’
s the case
,
then I’m pretty sure it’ll hurt whether or not I was prepared for it, but I’m grateful to Connor for not sugar coating things with me. I give him a quick nod, refusing to think too hard about i
t. The Lori I know is a fighter,
she’s a survivor, and I won’t believe otherwise until I see it with my own eyes.

“Everything all right?”
Peter gave us our privacy for a few minutes, but apparently
,
patience isn
’t really his strong suit
.

“Fine,” I assure him.

I can feel Connor’s eyes on me, like he’s trying to decide if I really am, but it’s the truth . . . for now. Until I have a reason not to be, I’m fine.

“So, when are we sending everyone to colony D?” Connor does an excellent job shifting the conversation and distracting Peter. I should take notes.

“We need to leave tomorrow. Can we have everyone that’s going ready to travel by then?”

“I don’t see why not,” Connor agrees.

“Good. We’ll leave the doctor here in case he’s needed, but the nurse can come with us just in case someone needs her during the trip.” I surprise myself with how decisive I sound. It feels good to have a solid plan for a change.

“You’re sure you want to go back there?” Peter still sounds unconvinced.

“Peter, this is our best chance at getting at least
some
of these people out of here before this all goes to hell. Besides, they have actual medicine and more than one doctor there.
Then we can figure out what to do about Reynolds and getting the rest of us out of here.
”

“You’re right.”

“I am?” I’m pretty sure that was the one and only time I’m ever going to hear Peter say those words. Where’s a tape recorder when you need one?

“Don’t sound so surprised.” Peter chuckles. “You have your moments.
Hixon
can do a lot more to help them than we can, and he did keep his word about getting us out of there.”

***

Bodies occupy almost every available seat on the train. Most of the private compartments have been assigned to the worst case patients. There won’t be any solitary escape for me this time around. As luck would have it, the only other non-injured female on board is the nurse.
Exactly
who I wanted to room with.
Seriously, if she
so
much as looks at my hand
,
we’re going to have problems. Peter finds the whole situation highly amusing along with the fact that I am suddenly much more amenable to the idea of community cars. We spend most of the day sitting in a car with large bay windows across both sides
watching the landscape blur by
between checks on the patients. Why I’m checking on patients, I haven’t a clue. It’s not like I’d have the slightest idea what to do if any of them actually needed any help, but I’m good for the occasional glass of water.

When we roll into the station at precisely three A.M. in accordance with Mayor
Hixon’s
time table, I swear the entire train holds its collective breath. It’s the moment of truth. Things are about to go really right, or really wrong in a big way. Peter and I are the first ones to exit onto the platform since no one else volunteered for the opportunity.

It’s
pitch black. Even the moon is refusing to show its face through the thick cloud cover. But, in the residual glow coming from the business district, I can just make out the silhouettes of a couple dozen people scattered across the platform. What have we walked into?

Chapter 23

“We need to hurry.” Mayor
Hixon
steps out
of the
shadows,
and my heart—
which is pounding with roughly the
force of an elephant stampede—
eases into a steadier rhythm.
“The guards should be busy for at least the next hour, but we have a lot to do.”

“Where are they?
The guards?”

“Sal had a bit of
an
. . .
incident
over at the bakery that required their attention.” I don’t even want to know. “Now, let’s move.”

Behind him, men and women dressed in dark clothes come forward
,
bringing with them what must be the hospital
’
s entire supply of gurneys and wheelchairs. It’s the most coordinated effort I’ve ever seen. You’d think they trained for this type of thing. In less than fifty minutes, they have each and every person unloaded and transferred to the hospital.