Run (5 page)

Jae took an old rag out of his pocket and pressed it to my arm. The cut wasn't very deep, but it hurt like anything. I hoped the rag was clean.

I winced. “Ouch!”

His deep green eyes stared intently into mine as he held my injured arm. My heart beat a little faster. What was I doing? I thought. This wasn't a time to be crushing on some boy I just met!

He led me to the toilet, dipped the rag into the pail of water and put it on my arm. I held it there while he rooted around the toilet cabinets for a bandage. He found a plaster and positioned it gently on my arm.

“C'mon, apple blossom, let's get out of this stink hole,” he said, trying to cheer me up.

Apple blossom? I rolled my eyes.

We walked out into the backyard and slumped on the stinky sofa. When he put his arm around me, I didn't complain. Then out of the blue, he bolted out from the seat, bent over and threw up. He clutched his bandaged arm, his face now pale.

I looked at his arm, my eyes widening with concern. I saw a bead of blood snaking down from his bandage.

“Gosh…” I whispered. I felt so wretched.

I was so wrapped up in my own misery and pain that I hadn't even stopped to consider that Jae might be in pain too. He had not once complained about his already injured arm. The fighting must have made it worse.

“Sit back,” I ordered him. Now it was my turn to take charge.

The wound, I saw, had not been cleaned properly. It was all swollen and looked infected. Yellowish pus was oozing from the long gash that stretched from his upper arm all the way down to his elbow.

I resisted the urge to gag. Running back into the toilet, I brought out the pail of water. I scooped some and poured it on Jae's arm. He bit his bottom lip and scrunched up his eyes. He looked so cute when he did that, I thought.

I mentally slapped myself. Stop doing that! But I couldn't help it. There was just something about him that drew me to him.

I wiped all the blood and pus away, then wrapped his arm with a new bandage. I hoped it was enough.

He sighed and sat back. I settled down next to him, careful not to jolt his arm. We sat there in silence. It was nice.

“Tell me something, Zee,” Jae said, his face regaining some normal colour. “Where did you learn how to fight like that? You were awesome.”

He was looking at me strangely, with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. I sighed inwardly. Trust a boy to spoil a perfectly sweet moment!

I looked away. “Don't look at me like that. You're freaking me out.”

“I'm freaking you out?” he said incredulously. “You fight like some martial arts expert and I'm freaking you out? How about you freaking me out? Who are you, anyway?”

“Good question. I wish I knew!” I snapped, my irritation rising. I wished everyone would stop asking me who I was. If I knew, wouldn't I tell them?

“Can't you try to remember anything? Where did you live? Were you rich? Did you have brothers? Sisters?” Jae asked.

“To answer your questions: No. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know!” I said, my voice rising to a screech.

“Some of the other kids are wondering how you managed to survive on your own for so long,” Jae continued relentlessly. “And why you are so healthy. You look well fed.”

I was stumped. I had no answer to that. How had I survived?

“We think that maybe there are other groups of kids like us around Singapore, surviving just like us. It would make a lot of sense,” Jae said. “But in the last two months, you are the first kid we have seen around here. Maybe you are a new reject.”

“What? A new what?” I said, really annoyed now. Did he just call me a reject?

“A reject. You know, thrown out of Camp Zero.”

“Thrown out?” My mind was whirling again. There was too much information to process.

“Didn't you understand what we were telling you?”

“No, all I know about Camp Zero is that the people inside were specially selected. They have food and water and beds and everything. Right?”

“Yes, that's right.”

“So… you mean I could have once been inside? And I was thrown out?”

“Yes.”

“I don't understand. Why would they throw me out? Was my whole family thrown out?”

Jae looked at me blankly. “No. They only threw the kids out.”

“Who's ‘they'?”

“The adults on the inside,” he said simply.

“You mean your own parents threw you out?” I asked, horrified. But at the back of my mind, I felt the hint of a memory coming back to me. An image of someone screaming flashed in my mind. I felt a wave of terror wash over me, brought on by a memory I could not grasp.

I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate. Something was familiar; what was it? The idea of being thrown out by adults and soldiers, it triggered a memory. But it was too far away and too fleeting. The more I tried to catch hold of it, the more it faded. I opened my eyes and urged Jae to continue.

“They must have realised that they were not going to have enough food. So they threw us out. We never knew what was going on, and…” Jae faltered.

“I'm not sure if our parents knew what was happening, but surely they must have been told. One day, a group of soldiers just led us out. They gave us a name – Rovers – and we were all really excited. We thought it was a game, and we were so pumped up because it was getting boring in Camp Zero. Then, they left us around here. They never came back.”

“What?” I said dumbly. “That's not possible. They couldn't have done that.”

“It is. And they did,” Jae said. “They led us out and left us to starve. Like Hansel and Gretel.”

I stared at Jae. Something about what he said rang true. We had been left to die. Only this wasn't a fairy tale. This was real. We didn't have stones. And we didn't have breadcrumbs. If we did, we would probably have eaten them. And it didn't look like our happily-ever-after was anywhere near.

“So, that means that I could have just been released from Camp Zero?”

“That's what we think. It would explain a lot. We just have to figure out why you were left alone, and why you have no memory.”

“No. No. NO!” I shouted suddenly, startling Jae and some others who had just come out of the house and into the garden. “You are wrong! My parents would never throw me out. I don't believe you! I don't believe you! I DON'T BELIEVE YOU!”

“Zee,” he said calmly. “It is true. Whether you want to believe me or not is a different story altogether.”

I glared at him. He looked so calm and it annoyed me.

“You're stupid!” I yelled. “Don't tell me things and expect me to believe you. I don't even know you. You don't know me.” At the back of my mind, a little voice warned me not to continue down this path. Don't rant like a crazy person again, the little voice told me. You actually like his attention, it said. But I pushed the thought away angrily. I stood up and faced Jae.

“I don't want to talk to you anymore. GO AWAY!”

I was now shouting hysterically. The events of the past two days had caught up with me. Waking up with no memory of who I was, to a world I didn't remember. Being set upon by thugs and having to fight them off. Discovering that I could read minds. Coming across crazed man-eating adults. And now, being told that my parents had plotted to abandon me – to save themselves. It was all too much.

I pushed past the gaping kids and ran into the house. I ran blindly, opened the first door I came across, flung myself in and locked the door behind me. Luckily for me, it was a nice little room with no windows, so no one could see me make a fool of myself, crying like a baby.

So, that is my story thus far… at least the last two days that I can remember. I don't know who I am. I don't know where I came from. All I know is I am here now, stuck in this room, in this house full of kids who think I'm a freak.

When I wake up the next day, I am stiff and sore all over. Jae is standing over me with a sympathetic grin on his face.

“Hey, are you awake?” he asks, an embarrassed smile on his face.

I look around. I am still in the little room, lying on the floor. I must have cried myself to sleep. How pathetic. My mouth feels icky and dry and I simply grunt at Jae and try to shoo him away. He refuses to go.

“Are you okay? I'm really sorry I upset you yesterday. We've been living like this for more than two months, and we've all kind of accepted the fact that we were left to die. It must have been a shock for you to find out the way you did. I'm really sorry,” he says. He reaches his hand out, offering to pull me up.

I ignore him, still feeling sore, tired and grumpy. And guess what? I still can't remember anything. I sigh inwardly. Then it occurs to me that I locked the door yesterday.

“Hey, how did you get in here anyway?

I locked the door!” I demand in a voice that sounds disgustingly raspy.

“Uh… I can pick locks, remember? I opened this door in, like, two seconds,” Jae says, a tad smugly.

“So why didn't you come get me earlier? You just left me here the whole night?”

“Err… umm, I thought you wanted some privacy.”

I glare at him coldly. I'm angry. Not at him, particularly, but just angry. I'm in such a bad mood I want to lash out at somebody, anybody, but I hold myself back. These kids have only been trying to help me. Jae has been nothing but patient with me. Plus, right now, he looks so cute standing there looking sheepish. I feel my anger seeping away a little and I offer a weak smile.

“C'mon, let's get you some water and get you cleaned up. You'll feel much better, I promise,” he says, offering his hand again. This time, I take it and he hauls me up and pushes me out the door. So much for male chivalry.

After a dismal breakfast of dry crackers – only two each – Kyl gathers us all and makes an announcement.

“Jae and I have decided that we need to start planning again. We have been too complacent for the past four weeks, living in this house,” he begins. “We need to really go out to look for more food every day. We need to be more organised. We need to be able to pack up and run if we need to. We've been a little too comfortable here.”

“Comfortable? You call this comfortable?” a boy shouts out.

“You know what I mean,” Kyl continues, putting his hands up to shush the kids. “I know the first few weeks were really hard. We had nothing, we had no plan. We just slept outside and ate whatever we could find. After finding this house with all this food, we've become a little lazy. This food is not going to last forever. Jae and I looked at the store. I think we have food to last us all for maybe three weeks – four, if we are really careful. What are we going to do after that? We need to start planning now.”

I look around and notice some kids nodding in agreement. A few of them look really depressed.

“What's the use?” Dyanne says. “We are all going to die anyway. We might as well just eat all the food now and die happy.”

The kids stare at her in shock, but I can tell that her words have hit home with some of them. I myself can't help but wonder if she is right. Are we all doomed to die? If there is no food left, isn't death a certainty? Why delay the inevitable?

It is Brion who breaks the silence. “I don't know about you, but I'm not giving up that easily. I'm not going to die here. And while I still can, I'm going to fight to survive. We are still alive, aren't we? I don't think anyone expected us to live, but we are still here. I don't intend to give up now.”

“Exactly,” Kyl says. “We need to fight. We need to survive. And we need a plan.”

“Don't forget, we have a new threat. Those crazy adults we saw yesterday. We need to form a team to check them out. We need to know how many of them there are, and whether they are dangerous,” Jae adds.

Before Dyanne can retort, a loud crashing sound coming from the front door startles us. I grab a stick. I don't know what else to do. Together with Jae and some older kids, I rush towards the front just as someone barges in from the living room.

It is the man from yesterday. Tattoo Guy! He is wearing a different shirt, but I would recognise those tattoos anywhere, not to mention his bald head. How did he find us? I was sure we weren't followed.

He blusters into our dining room. He scans the crowd of faces and stops at mine.

“You!” he screams. His neck muscles are bulging with exertion and he looks furious. “Give me back my food!”

In all the excitement yesterday, I had forgotten to tell Jae and the other kids that Tattoo Guy had recognised me, and that he might somehow know me. I don't feel like telling them now, seeing as how I seem to have led the guy right to their hideout.

Jae, quite needlessly, jumps to my rescue. “It is not your food. We found it ourselves. Go find your own food.”

“I can handle this,” I whisper to Jae. “Back off.”

That prickling sensation is creeping up on me and I know that Tattoo Guy is about to attack. He runs at us and I see everything he intends to do. He wants to charge at me and push me down. Really? That's all he can come up with?

I swing my stick, catching his ankles and making him stumble. He is up again in a flash and I panic. He swings at me and catches me just under my chin with his fist. Oww! That hurts and I stumble backwards into Jae. He holds me steady and then jumps in front of me, shielding me. The other kids are simply too shocked to do anything but stare. I notice that many are backing up the staircase.

I take a quick breath and tell myself to calm down. That's when I see what happens next. Tattoo Guy has been hiding a knife in his back pocket and the flashing images in my mind show me that he will throw it at Jae, but I'm ready for him. I take a small step to the left of Jae and brace myself.

Jae is completely oblivious to the danger he is in. His hands are outstretched – the idiot is unwittingly presenting his body as a target – and he's taunting Tattoo Guy. “C'mon, big guy. Think you can come here and beat up my kids?”

His kids? Since when were we his kids? But no one argues with this.

Tattoo Guy reaches behind his back and the knife comes hurtling right at Jae. He has moved so fast Jae doesn't have time to react. But I do. With a quick calculated flick, my stick connects with the airborne knife. The impact knocks the knife off-course and it heads up, towards the ceiling.

I watch the knife fly upwards, then start to fall back down. My hands twirl the stick. It spins, and for a moment, I feel like a cheerleader with a baton. Another flick and the stick connects with the knife again, sending it right at Tattoo Guy's feet. He jumps away just in time and the knife spins away, hitting the wall behind him.

Jae and Tattoo Guy gape at me in shock.

I swing the stick again, catching him in the stomach, making him double over. He is beaten and he knows it. He turns around and scrambles out the way he came in.

“Ha! That showed you!” I yell after him. “Don't come back!”

Then I see Jae, still gaping at me. “What just happened? How did you know what he was going to do?”

All the other kids are staring too. Some in admiration, some in fear. But mostly in shock. I look at my hands and realise I am trembling. How am I going to explain something I don't understand myself?

“I'll tell you later. We need to move,” I say, swiftly changing the subject. “If Tattoo Guy found us, it means his friends must know where we are. We need to go… Now!”