Running Dry (24 page)

Frankie makes another quick turn and disappears into another building.  This one is a little more unusual.  This area isn't really in a very busy sector of town.  There are a few condemned structures on either side of the place she went into and I don't see any lights on.  The day is wearing thin and as the sun fades, I can only assume lights would be necessary if people actually lived inside.  I'm beginning to wonder if I was wrong about Frankie after all.

              As I wait, sort of huddled up against a building kitty-corner from the one Frankie went in, I start thinking about my bad experience with the street creatures and get the chills.  This is probably a bad idea, hiding in and around alleys in the dark, in this part of town.  I don't think Gerty will bail me out again if I get into trouble.  Still, I'm here, so I jot down the cross streets again.  What could Frankie be up to?  The last thing I want for is Jameson to be right. 

              No sooner do I get my notebook tucked back into my bag than I see Frankie exit the building and round the corner.  I wait a minute before following.  The streets are pretty quiet now but the darkness is giving me a little protection from being spotted.  It would definitely be easier to do this if I didn't know my target personally.  I mean, what am I gonna say if she does see me?  I should probably figure that out.

              As I attempt to come up with a convincing reason why I might be following my friend, I round the corner and don't see Frankie anywhere.  I speed up and start looking down alleys as I go.  Worried I've lost her, I turn down a street with bright street lights. I stop to check out the signs and get my bearings.  It's quiet as I do and I feel fairly certain she's gone.  I start to head home when Frankie comes out of a door less than a block in front of me.  Luckily, she doesn't look my direction but continues swiftly down the road ahead of me.  I tuck myself as close to the building as I can and slow down a little.  She turns right and heads for a part of town I'm familiar with.  It's near the building where I meet with Jameson. 

              As we near the area, it gets darker because there are no streetlights in this part of town.  Nothing but cockroaches and maggots would live in this decimated area of the city.  After walking several more blocks, I see Frankie sit down on a curb.  I put on the brakes and quietly back myself behind a big, rusty dumpster. 

              I crouch and watch as Frankie takes out some kind of a tool from her bag.  It's hard to make it out in the dark, but it's long and thin, maybe a crowbar.  She looks around before wedging it into the metal grate on the street just below her feet.  She pries it up.  I don't believe what I'm seeing.  Frankie slips down out of view and I hear the grate make contact with the ground again.  Frankie is gone.

              I wonder if I should follow her.  I would love to go down the tunnel, but I think it's probably a really bad idea.  I have no map and no weapon.  Instead I make myself comfortable on the ground and wait as the smells of the dumpster fill my nostrils. 

              After an hour, with all sorts of crazy thoughts floating around my head, I decide I'm done waiting.  Besides, what am I going to do, follow Frankie around forever?  I'm still no closer to knowing what she's up to than I was before I left the factory. 

              As I walk back, I put myself in the path to see LeRoy.  I've been thinking about what he said the other day.  "Something bad is about to happen."  I want to dismiss it as another one of his crazy rants, but something keeps tugging at me.  For some reason, this feels like a warning I should really heed.  I want to talk to him about it.  If it's real, I need to know more information.

              I'm about a block away, but I can already tell something isn't right.  I start running.  When I reach the wall, I turn and double check the street signs to make sure I'm in the right place.  The spot is empty.  Completely cleaned out.  There are no piles of junk, no trash bags, and no LeRoy.  He's gone. 

              When I reach my apartment, I head straight for the bathtub.  I don't take off my pack or my shoes, nothing.  I hold my breath and slowly turn the crank.  The pipes sputter and make a high pitched whine, but nothing comes out.  I step in, still fully clothed and turn the crank, with all the force I can muster.  Still, nothing.  No water.  I sink down and let my whole body collapse into the empty tub.  I feel so overwhelmed with everything that I guess I drift off to sleep.

              I don't know how much time passes.  My head pitches up.  Someone is knocking on my apartment door.  I wipe drool from my mouth and check my watch.  It's eleven at night.  I jump from the tub and look for something I can use as a weapon.  I find a knife from the drawer and move closer to the door.  I stand against it and listen.

              The knock comes again, making me jump.  Then, a voice says, "Water Distribution."  But there is no distribution here.  And it hits me.  I know that voice.  It's Zane.

Zane

When she opens the door, she's holding a shiny kitchen knife.

              "Is this how you greet all of your guests?" I say.  I'm tense and have no idea what to expect, how she will react to seeing me, but I couldn't not see her.

              She looks down at the blade and drops it to the floor.  She plows into me.  "What are you doing here?  How?"  She wraps her arms around me and doesn't let go.  I do the same.  I can feel her body start to tremble.

              I pull back, "Are you okay?"

              "I missed you.  So much."  She is crying so hard now, I can't understand what she's even saying.

              I pull her toward the living room and sit her on the couch.  "Shhhh.  It's okay.  I'm here now."

              "How did you find me?" she asks through the sobs.

              "Frankie."

              "Frankie?  I don't understand what's going on.  My agent wants me to watch Frankie and I saw her go into a tunnel and then I walked by LeRoy's street just a bit ago and he's gone.  He told me I should get out and I'm so scared, Zane, and I hate it here and..."

              Then she stops and looks at me and she looks crazed.  Her eyes are wet and red and there's snot dripping from her nose and I can't believe how much I've missed her.  I smile at her.  Then she does something I didn't see coming.  She grabs me and kisses me.  Hard.  On the lips. 

              When she pulls away suddenly, I figure it's because she's going to tell me she didn't mean it, but instead she says, "I'm sorry.  For everything.  For the note.  I thought I was tough.  I thought if I told you I didn't need you I might be able to believe it myself.  I was wrong.  I can't do this.  I can't..." 

              Before she starts crying again, I pull her back to me and kiss her again.

Chapter 32

Bekka

He smooths my hair and we stay locked together on the couch for a long time, just sitting, in silence.  "You look different with your hair short like that," I say, touching it.  Then I see some new black ink on his arm, just below the dark band with purple flowers.  In cursive writing it says Bekka.

              I trace it with my finger.  He blushes. 

              Then he says, "Who's LeRoy?"

              "He's an old bum who tripped me.  He's crazy, but there's something about what he was telling me.  I started to think maybe he knew a lot more than what I was giving him credit."

              "I wonder if he's part of the Resistance.  He may have been talking about the sanding operation."

              "What?"

              "Frankie and I are part of a group, against the war.  Did you know she and my brother were together?"

              "Zander?  Really!  I can’t even believe you know Frankie.  What's a sanding operation?  Are you in danger?"

              "No.  But the water is going to stop.  It's just temporary, but make sure you save up as much as you can before next week."

              "I'm out!  I haven't really gotten the hang of this whole system over here.  What should I do?  I want to come back with you!"

              "I want you to too, but we need a plan first.  We need to figure something out before we just pull you out of here.  That would put you in danger, for sure.  I'll have Frankie get you some water and then we'll deal with it.  Maybe you can stay with my Dad."

              "Your what?!?!"

              "He's been in hiding.  Turns out he's the one who got the whole movement against the war started.  We've become reaquainted."

              "A lot has been going on with you," I say. 

              "I've been distracting myself."

              I bite my lip.  "From what?"

              "Missing you."

              He kisses me again.

After Zane leaves, I feel so much lighter.  The only thing still bothering me is LeRoy and what Zane said, wondering if LeRoy could be part of this Resistance deal.  I dig through some piles on my table and pick up what I think is LeRoy's book of poems, but when I open it, it's actually my old notebook, the one he returned to me not too long ago.  I rifle through the notes I took back when I first came to South Sacto, shaking my head at some of the stupid stuff I'd jotted down.

              When I turn the page, I see something new, something in LeRoy's handwriting.  He must have written it before he gave it back to me.  I sit on the couch and read it:

              Don't go to No Man's Land

              Instead head for the sand

              In order to flee

              Try three

              61 is the key

              You'll be free, like me.

Zane

On the walk back, I’m so happy I'm dizzy.  I'd been suppressing my feelings for Bekka for so long, I was starting to believe I wasn't in love with her.  Until I saw her again.  And we kissed.  Now I just need to figure out a way to get her and Frankie out of there.  I have to go talk to my dad.  I really hope he can help me.

              When I get to my apartment, I freeze.  My front door is slightly open.  I feel for my gun.  It's still there, in the holster where it lives a good portion of the time lately.  I calm my breathing and inch closer to the door, putting my ear against it.  After a few minutes and no noise, I slowly push the door open just enough to see through the gap.  I look into my living room, but it appears empty.

              My breathing picks up as I slowly step into the room.  The only light is coming from the hall because I've made a habit of keeping the heavy blanket on the small window in the living room to block the daylight while I sleep on the couch after my night shift.  I turn in all directions as I stand in the entry.  The kitchen is empty as well.  There is only the bathroom and single bedroom that remain a mystery. 

              As I take a step to the hall, I see a single piece of paper sitting on the table that I know was not there previously.  Before I look at it, I need to clear the other rooms.  Quietly, I turn into the bedroom, with my gun leading the way.  It's empty, but I check under the bed and in the small closet to be sure.  The bathroom is also clear.

              Returning to the table, I set my gun down and pick up the paper.  With it in hand, I close the front door and lock it.  Then, I unfold the paper.  It reads:

              I KNOW ABOUT YOU ZANE BRENNER.

              That's it.  One short sentence which doesn't say much, but says everything. 

I can't sleep.  I just keep staring at the note, wondering who knows and exactly what it is they know.  At this point there is more than one thing that could get me into serious trouble.  The Resistance is the obvious one, but it doesn't seem like the government's style to send a note.  Then, there is the crossing over.  Seems a little too timely.  I wonder if someone saw me in No Man's Land. 

              My head is swirling.  I get up and decide 5a.m. is as good as any other to pay my dad a visit.  I slip the note into my pants pocket and change into a clean t-shirt.  I tuck the gun back into my waistband and head to see Fulton.

              "You again," he says, looking up from his paperwork.

              "Sorry."

              "I'm kidding.  Good to see you.  What's up?" he asks, smiling. 

              "I got this today," I say, slipping the piece of paper toward him.

              His eyes quickly scan it and his smile is wiped away.  "Any ideas?"

              "Too many, but nothing solid."

              "What are you going to do?"

              "I need to see my father.  Can you help me with that?"

              "Yeah."  He scans around the office with his eyes before he accesses the computer records.  There are a few other people in the space, doing their own work, but nobody seems to be paying attention to us.  Fulton writes some numbers on a piece of paper for me and folds it in half before handing it to me.