Sneak (19 page)

118

Sneak.indd 118

6/22/12 4:09 PM

Sneak

mess into motion. All because I dragged you out here. All because you wanted to go home. And now we are.” He finally looked at

her. “So you have won.” Erin’s father pushed the nanocoffee away with his forearms. “We leave the day after tomorrow. Better start packing.”

Then Mr. Arbitor put his head down on the table, resting his

cheek against its surface. And Erin slipped quietly away.

10

It was in the afternoon that the Dust saw it: the sailboat lying on bone-dry ground in the middle of nowhere, half an acre away from a lone house in the distance. They’d made it out of the woods, riding the stream deep into the wastelands, with not a person in sight—and yet here was this house, all by itself. With an old sailboat fifty miles away from the nearest lake.

“A boat,” Jo said. “A boat is a captain’s symbol . . .”

“I thought we were supposed to be looking for an anchor,”

Eddie said.

Tyler scoffed. “
I
thought we were supposed to be looking for drawings. Not the real thing.”

But Peck smiled.

The Dust disembarked from the raft and walked across the

scrubby field.

Through the window, Peck could see a man sitting in a rock-

ing chair on a dirt floor. It was a one-room house, nothing else in it but a fireplace, a card table, and a vase on the windowsill, with two dead flowers inside.

“Who’s there?” the man called out.

119

Sneak.indd 119

6/22/12 4:09 PM

Evan Angler

“Just us, sir.” And Peck poked his head inside the open front

door. He motioned for the rest of the Dust to follow. “We don’t mean to bother you. But we couldn’t help noticing the boat on your property.” He stepped toward the man, close to the rocking chair.

“Yeah? What of it?”

Peck shrugged, slyly arcing the toe of his shoe through the

dirt.

The man looked down. He stared at the ground for some time.

Then the man drew a line as well.

The arcs came together.

The fisher’s symbol lay on the ground.

11

Dane was nearly a mile away by now. He hadn’t truly believed

Logan’s story about the Unmarked River, but he’d agreed to look for it all the same, if only for an excuse to walk off his jealousy over Logan and Hailey.

Except, the last several minutes, Dane hadn’t been walking at

all. He’d not been even been moving.

There, on the tree ahead of him, carved into the bark, were

the waves of the Unmarked River. He’d never have noticed them if he hadn’t been looking. But beside that tree a thin trail branched off and wound its way out of the woods, revealing the path forward.

Dane had to laugh.
I
guess
the
Markless
have
a
few
marks
of
their
own
after
all
, he thought. And he turned to run back toward his friends, filled with hope for the first time in weeks.

He was just beginning to feel better about his luck and every-

thing else in his life when Dane thought again about his two closest
120

Sneak.indd 120

6/22/12 4:09 PM

Sneak

friends hugging. For warmth. It almost sucked all of the hope right back out of him.

Dane walked loudly in his final steps toward them. He cleared

his throat when he arrived.

“How’s he doing?” he asked, trying hard to hide his jealousy.

Hailey turned toward him. “Warmer,” she said. “Not so out

of it anymore. But Dane . . . he’s still claiming there’s this thing called the Unmarked River.”

“There is!” Logan insisted.

“I know.” Dane had to smile, despite himself. “You’re right.

I’ve found it.”

121

Sneak.indd 121

6/22/12 4:09 PM

Six

The River Code

1

The covered wagon was stuffy and

uncomfortable. Up front, the captain sat, holding the reins and urging his two horses onward. The Dust hid cramped in the back, leaning forward under the canvas, sitting awkwardly on the hard wooden platform, hay strewn about, legs all tangled, arms pushed up against one another’s.

No one complained, though. Peck’s little stunt with the raft

had made sure of that.

“Been a while since I seen a group this big,” the man up front said, looking back over his shoulder. “I expect to see more comin’, though, the way DOME’s been chasing us out. Am I right?”

“I think that’s right,” Peck said. And they rode along quietly for a while.

“So where y’all hoping to get?” the man asked.

And before anyone could stop him, Rusty said, “Beacon.”

The man sat up straight, surprised. “Beacon, huh? Don’t see

many Rivergoers headed all the way out there. Usually folks give up ’fore then. Stay country-side.” He nodded. “Nice community, though, if you know where to look.”

122

Sneak.indd 122

6/22/12 4:09 PM

Sneak

“Oh yeah?” Peck said.

“So I hear.”

“Whaddaya know about Beacon?” Peck asked.

The man shrugged. “Fair bit.”

And Peck hesitated. “You ever heard of a place called Acheron?”

Immediately, the captain pulled up on the reins. His wagon

came to an abrupt stop, jostling the Dust about in the back.

“What’ve you kids got to do with Acheron?”

Jo cleared her throat. “Nothing, sir. Or . . . not yet, anyway.

We’re looking for a friend.”

The captain turned and eyed each of them.

“All my years on the River, I only ever heard one story that

mentioned the name Acheron.”

The Dust leaned in.

“And it ain’t much of a story, really. More of a legend.” He

sighed deeply. “From what I hear . . . lookin’ for a place like that is just lookin’ for trouble. ’Cept trouble’s a lot easier to find.”

“All the same,” Peck said uneasily, “what’ve you heard?”

“Almost too horrible to say,” the man said. “But if I might could water it down for ya . . . well . . . I captained a woman one time—

hundred miles or so—farther than usual, for any normal group o’

Rivergoers. Anyway, she and I got to talkin’. Talkin’ about this, talkin’ about that, and . . . well . . . sooner or later she said somethin’ ’bout her Markless brother turned around and right killed his wife one day. Claimed some act o’ betrayal or something . . .

but that ain’t no excusin’ it, though.”

“No sir,” Peck said.

“Anyway, I got ’round to askin’ that poor woman whatever

happened to him. The murderin’ brother—Giovanni, man’s name

was. Provided I’m rememberin’ right.

123

Sneak.indd 123

6/22/12 4:09 PM

Evan Angler

“Woman hemmed and hawed. Didn’ much wanna talk about

it. But I got the story outta her. That was a long ride, ’tween her and me. Finally, she star’s cryin’. Said DOME caught up with him on account of it being a Markless crime. Woman said he right

disappeared. But she wouldn’t leave it at that, no, sir! Woman kept diggin’. Come to think of it, that mighta been how she found herself on the River . . .

“In any case, poor woman dug up some whispers she mighta

wished she hadn’t found. Whispers o’ her brother being frozen

alive. Kept in some refrigerated cell. Just frozen there to think ’bout what he’d done. Hidden somewhere no one’s ever been found.” The man shook his head. “I don’t remember much else ’bout that story.

But she did call that place Acheron. I do remember that.”

“So it is a prison, then,” Blake said. “We weren’t sure . . .”

The man shrugged. “Ain’t no prison I ever heard of. Not out-

side that tall tale, anyway. I do wonder, though, where Markless go, when DOME decides they won’t be comin’ home. They sure

don’t go to any Marked jail—that much is certain.”

“What makes you say that?” Peck asked.

“You kiddin’? What gave you any illusions of Markless bein’