Running Dry (9 page)

"How long has this group been meeting?"

"We didn't start it, if that's what you're wondering," he says.

"Oh."  The knowledge knocks some wind out of my sails and it must come through in my tone.

"It's a long process to change an entire population's way of thinking.  Actually two populations."

"I can understand that, considering up until today I didn’t think there was another soul alive who thought the way I did," I say. 

"Exactly and it’s still not the most popular viewpoint, as you’re aware, but we’re getting there, slowly."

"Zander believed in this cause?"

"After he'd been out in the trenches and saw kids dying left and right, it became obvious to both of us how wrong it was...is."

"Do you know...exactly how he died?"

Fulton says, "He wasn’t careful enough.  He thought he could trust one of his cadets.  I told him I didn't think it was a good idea. I had a bad feeling, but he invited him to a meeting.  I was the only one who knew he'd done it.  The kid must have turned the info over to a superior officer because Zander was outfitted to run a special ops mission a few days later, which just smelled of foul play.  They never have new field officers run ops like that, especially alone.  I think they fitted him with explosives, but I can't be sure what happened.  I just know they sent him out there by himself that day and he didn't come back.  Then, in a twist, they made him into a hero.  It's messed up.”

I swallow hard.  There's a lump in my throat.

"I'm sorry, Zane."

"Aren't you scared?  Is this worth the risk?" I ask. "What are the odds that anything will really change?"

"You never know what might happen.  After losing Zander I was angry.  I hadn’t even really been into the whole Resistance thing that much before he died.  It was mostly his idea in the beginning.  But after, I just want revenge for what they did to him, you know?  And, I want change.  There is too much messed up about this system.  But a pessimistic attitude alone won't change the world," he says sarcastically and lightly punches my shoulder.

"Sir?" I say.

"You can call me by my first name out here."

"Okay, Um, Devin.  When is the next meeting?"

"We change up the days and tunnel locations each time.  Just check your mattress for another map.  We always come alone and change up our route too.  You will get the hang of the tunnels soon."

"Sounds good."

"One more thing," Devin said, "I just wanted to tell you that your brother was very proud of you.  He said all the time that you were smarter than the rest of us for figuring things out on your own."

"He said that?"

"Yeah.  He looked up to you."

"
He
looked up to
me
?  He never told me that."

"He didn't get a chance.  He was looking forward to you turning eighteen.  He was excited to bring you to a meeting and show you that there are people out here like you.  He felt bad how much you had to endure being an outsider.  And, I hope this makes up for the beating.  I really had no idea what Harmond was capable of doing to you."

"I'm used to it, being an outsider and all," I say.

"Well, maybe someday that will change," he says.  "Just remember we have to be careful.  I don't think I really need to tell you that, but just know, they won't bat an eyelash removing you from the equation if they find out you are doing something you shouldn't be doing.  And they are likely already watching closely, which is why I had to go to such extremes."

"I understand."

"I think I have a good plan for how we can utilize you within this organization though," Devin says.

"How?"

"I'll let you know when the time is right."

"Okay," I say.

"Time to get back."

Chapter 12
                           

Bekka

For reasons I can't explain, I find myself heading straight for Chuggers.  I'm feeling reckless and I know I need to get this over with and done.  I walk in and scan the room, looking first toward the back corner where the thunks usually gather, but I don't see Alex among them.  Then I see him, sitting with a group of huffer girls with his arm around one of them. 

I walk toward him and when he sees me, he pulls the girl with a tight t-shirt closer to him and starts to whisper something in her ear.  She nods and he gets up, releasing her.

"Can I talk to you alone, please?" I say.

"Okay," he says and we take a table not too far away from the huffer girls who are throwing daggers at me with their eyes.

"You look like hell," he says, sitting down.

I had that one coming, but instead of just taking it and apologizing like I had planned, I suddenly feel anger boiling up.  "You know, you could at least take a little pity on me," I hear myself spit out.  "You're supposed to be my friend.  I know.  I know.  I screwed up, but..."

He doesn't let me finish.  "You know what I've figured out about you, Bekka?"  His voice is way louder than I'm comfortable with, and the words are coming at me sharper than the daggered eyes of the huffer girls.  "You are only concerned about yourself.  Boo hoo, I didn't get runner.  Boo hoo, Zane is gone.  Maybe you should think about the people around you for once?  The ones who you take for granted until you need them.  First you used Zane and then when you didn't have him anymore, you moved on to me..."

"I did NOT!" I yell.  My mouth drops open, but he keeps going.

"No.  I've been thinking about this for the past few days.  I realized I'm not gonna be a sucker like Zane.  I'm not gonna cry.  I'm over it, and you.  I've moved on.  Have a nice life, Bekka!"  Alex gets up and stomps back to the huffers.

I want nothing more than to go over to him and finish the conversation.  He is wrong.  Dead wrong.  But the huffers are still all looking and snickering in my direction and I'm sure most of the people in Chuggers just heard what Alex said about me.  The terrible, nasty lies he just spewed at me.  He's just jealous, I tell myself, as I get up and walk out acting like what he said didn't affect me.  I thought nothing could affect me anymore than what already happened in the last few day, but his words stay with me and burn.

As I walk home, I feel nothing less than rage toward Alex.  I regret not telling him off.  He is the one who had been pursuing me hard these last few months, even after I made it clear to him that I only wanted to be friends.  Then, he had the nerve to say I used him, but what's worse is that he thinks I used Zane!  I may have made a bad choice with Alex, but I never used him and I don't even know what he is talking about with Zane.  He doesn't know anything about Zane and me. 

A very small part of me starts to wonder if some of what he said isn't really true.  Do I only think about myself?  I was so focused on running I may have been a little blinded by things, but now that the smoke has lifted, I feel alone and mixed up.  I wish I could take to someone but the only one I can think of is Regina, Zane's mother.  I can’t talk to her about Zane.   And I can't talk to Evy about her own twin brother.  As much as she says she doesn't even like him, I know that's a lie.  She will defend him and I can't fight with her too.  I have no choice but to go home and wait until I leave, which is sounding better to me each minute of the day. 

Zane

The next few days tick by slowly as I go through my orientation as a tunnel guard.  I have spent several days in the classroom learning the essentials of my job.  Me and the other new guards will meet the runners later today.  I have to see the barber and get my uniform tomorrow before the initiation ceremony.  I'm looking forward to seeing my mom there.  My new job starts on Monday so this weekend I have to move into my new apartment which is still on the base, but not part of the main structure where the trainees live.  I guess I'm an adult now. 

I sit next to Harmond in the mess hall and eat a small breakfast before tackling my errands.  I usually eat in silence, but I'm feeling pretty good today, the anticipation of seeing Bekka later fueling my mood.

"Will your parents be coming tomorrow?" I ask Harmond.

"Sure.  Yours?"

"My mom," I say.

"What's the deal with your dad, anyway?"

"He left us when I was little."

"Why?"

"I dunno, Harmond.  I was like six years old."

"He was a soldier though?"

"He was, but he was discharged after an injury."

"Was he shot?"

"Not sure," I say, swallowing hard on some dry soybar .

"How are you not sure?" Harmond's voice carries a twinge of annoyance and it looks like he is sweating worse than normal.  I realize it's probably because he is going to be sent to the frontlines on Friday.  He was assigned to Infantry.

"He didn't really talk about it," I say, shrugging my shoulders.  I feel for Harmond, but I don't know what to say.

"Can I ask you something?"  That seemed to be the catchphrase with this guy.

"Sure."

"Do you think it can mess you up?  I mean mentally?"

It all gets clear.  "Oh, you mean being in combat?"

"Yeah.  I mean, I've heard it can happen.  That maybe it happened to your dad.  And I just, you know, like after I hurt you that day, I feel bad, you know?"  He lowers his fork and he looks at me hard.  His voice is nearly a whisper and he says, "Like, I'm all confused and scared.  I'm like really, really scared, Zane."

I feel angry because I wish there was something I could say to him to make him not be scared, but I also think being scared out there is probably better than being a Junkie.  Maybe.  I wish I could give him some kind of deep wisdom or something, but I'm the wrong guy to be asking about advice when it comes to fighting, and my dad certainly never passed any of it along to me. 

"Yeah," is all I can say, "I think it can really screw people up.  What does your Dad do?" I ask.

"He works in Food."

"I see.  Well, I bet he's proud of you."  I try to get it out with as much sincerity as I can muster.

"I wish I would have done better at training so I could have gotten assigned guard, like you," he says. 

I don't know what else to say, so I just finish eating quietly.  It's not fair and I feel terrible, but nothing can be done to change it.  Or maybe something can.  My mission with the Resistance firm up and feel more clear suddenly.  I nod to Harmond when I get up to leave.  "Be safe, man." He nods back and I wonder if I'll ever see him again.

Chapter 13

Bekka

I slowly start packing up my meager belongings.  I carefully remove the one photo I have of my parents from the small bulletin board attached to the wall near my desk.  I hold it up close to my face like I used to do when I was young in hopes of getting some deeper insight into who they were, but I see only a faded photo this time.  I’m no longer a dumb kid but somehow I turned into a jaded adult overnight. 

It's been so long since I've moved the picture from this spot, the bulletin board has a light rectangular shadow where the picture was, like a mirage.  I put it into the front pocket of my backpack and zip it.

I hear Cheryl come into the apartment, home from work.  I haven't talked to her since before my birthday and I feel mildly guilty.  I've spent the last few nights locked in my bedroom but I know I can't put it off any longer.  I leave tomorrow.  And all of the soul searching I've done after my talk with Alex has made me feel guilty about my relationship with my muma.  I have started to realize that I never let her in, never even gave her a chance.  I was always running from her and never made a real attempt to get to know her, or let her know me.  And I'm all the more aware of it because now it's too late. 

According to the packet of information I received in the mail, I am to bring my bags and new paperwork with me to the place shown on the map.  There will be a few days training before the relocation, but I've been instructed to read through the manual before I get there.  The thought of crossing over is something I'd never contemplated before.  I mean, the idea of living with the enemy, the people who killed my parents, is not really appealing to me.  

I have no idea what will be expected of me or how I’m going to start over, only that I’m confident I know how to take care of myself.  I've been doing it for a long time now.  Maybe that's why they chose me.  Zane once told me that the government knows more about us than we think.  I remember laughing at his paranoia, but maybe he was right.  Maybe they chose me because I’m someone who is quickly forgotten and hard to remember. 

Nobody here is going to miss me.  Except maybe Zane.  The last thing I plan to do tonight is write him a letter.  I don't know what I'll say, but I know I need to do it. 

Besides my toothbrush, a few sets of clothes and the photo, I'm basically packed.  It's kind of sad to realize I can fit all of my necessary belongings into a few small bags.  I've boxed everything else up so Cheryl can donate it to the recycling center.  I got most of it from there in the first place and I wonder how many other people will use it again.  It makes me feel small and inconsequential, but I'm getting used to that idea.