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Authors: David Estes

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BOOK: The Moon Dwellers
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I realize that Chip is the only one who has
n’t yet reacted to my story, and
I turn to him, hoping he’ll
have a revelation, somethi
ng that will
give me
some kind of direction.

“Yeah, northeastern suburbs because they extend the furthest from the commercial district, where most of the bombs were hittin’.
She won’t stay in one place long
,
though, and eventually she’ll have to find a way out of the subchapter.
Can’t use conventional means, as she don’t have travel appro
val, unless she can find a
forger in a hurry, although I don’t know how she could pay for it.
I reckon she’ll try one of the mining tunnels on the subchapter border, up near where she’s probably already hiding.”

The woman adds
, “You’ll also want to find out more stuff about who she’s with, the other two escaped prisoners, because it might change what they do.”

I scan
the room, looking each person in the eyes, and waiting for any m
ore advice.
When silence ensues, I say
, “Thanks.
Thanks for everything.”

Somehow I kno
w they’
ll
keep my secre
ts.
I don’t know why they will.
I guess maybe they a
re just good people.
Real good people.
The kind you call friend; the kind you stand up for
; the kind you fight for.
I don’t know what i
s
happening above me, but I vow in my heart
to help these people, somehow,
some way
, some day
.
To do whatever it ta
k
es
to give them a better life.

We leave
, R
oc and I.
Explosions continue
to rock
the night around us, but they a
re less intense an
d less frequent.
The streets a
re empty, everyone having taken shelter.

We ru
n bac
k to the Pen, where the fence i
s still destroyed, and the yard still strewn with g
uards’ bodies.
No one is around.
We stop
at the point
along the fence
line where I last saw the girl
.
C
onsulting the map, we identify
the
best
route to take out of the city.

“This way,” Roc says
, taking the lead as navigator.

I follow
him, h
oping and praying that we a
re doing the right thing.

 

 

Chapter Eleven

Adele

 

S
ometimes I wonder whether people are inherently good or inherently bad.
I’d like to think good, or even neutral, like we can all make the choice for ourselves.
But then you
meet someone like the guy we a
re seeing on the telebox, and you think people are just plain bad.

After a quiet morning in the servants’ quarters
at Tawni’s parents’ house, we move inside once we are sure it is safe.
Although we do
n’t plan to linger
much longer
, we a
re careful to cover our t
racks so no one knows
we’
ve been here.
The longer it ta
k
es
them to fin
d our trail, the colder it will become and the safer we’ll
be.

The whole morning I think about Elsey.
She will
be our first re
scue, because she is closest and I know exactly where she is.
It is all I can
do to stop my
self from running off alone to save her.
I need
to be patient.
One thing at a time.

Tawni’s house i
s even more impressive than I’d imagined based on m
y glimpse in the dark.
It i
s three stories with more th
an a dozen rooms.
The floors a
re marble and swirled with illustrious blue and green
patterns.
Winding staircases ri
se majestically in at least three places, providing access to the upper floors.
The entire place i
s spotless, a testament to the qua
lity of the servants that work
here.

We’ve gotten lucky
;
it i
s one of the servants’ two days off.

We turn on
the tel
ly
, hoping to
find out
what i
s happening in subchapt
er 14.
There a
re two major news stories being run o
ver and over again.
The headline
sto
ry is about the bombing.
We were all wrong about the culprits.
I am
shocked, to be honest.

While we’ve
all been hating the Sun Realm—for its unfair policies and out
rageous taxes—the Star Realm has
been
hating us.
The whole time I
’ve been thinking
the star dwellers
are
li
ke a younger sibling to us,
different but on the same side—
but they’
ve
taken a different approach.
The video from Vice
President Meriweather, the lea
der of the Star Realm, explains
things.

He blames
us for the oppression by the Sun Realm,
says
we let them go too far, tha
t we set a precedent that forces
the Star Realm to comply with un
fair contractual terms.
He says our leaders a
re spineless,
gutless—which I tend
to
agree with—and that until we remove them from power and agree
to
join their rebellion, they’
ll
continue to bomb the living sheetrock
out of us.
Earlier
,
I
assumed subchapter 14
was
the first target, and it was, but it was only one of many first targets.
O
v
ernight a dozen subchapters were bombed, although none as heavily
as ours.

Tawni and Co
le are as shocked as I am
.
“If we kill each other, t
hen where will we be?” Cole says
, exasperated.
He
refuses
to sit down while watch
ing the broadcast, and now he i
s pacing, throw
ing his hands around as he rants
.

“It will only make the Sun Realm mor
e powerful,” Tawni agrees
.

“But the star dwell
ers are right, in a way,” I say.
When I see
the looks o
n my friends’ faces, I explain
, “I don’t mean in bombing us—not that.
Just about our leaders.
They’re just puppets for President Nailin, right?
He dictates the terms, and they agree to them in exchange for a bit of money on the side.”

“Yeah, true,” Cole says
, “but why not just come and talk to us about it, rather than chucking bombs around?”

“Maybe they did,” I say
.
“Maybe we ignored them.”

I think
Cole might blow
up, lose his temper again—he i
s certainly
in one of those moods—but he doesn’t.
He chews
on
the side of his mouth like he i
s chewing on my words, trying t
o understand them, and then says
, “If that’s true then they
should
be removed
from power
.
As far as I’m concerned, there should be
a
rebellion, but not against us, against the sun dwellers, by both us and the star dwellers.”

“But so m
any people will die,” Tawni says
.

“Peo
ple are dying now!” Cole shouts
.
He lowers
his voice, looking around as if the walls might have ears.
“Just more slowly.
The life is sucked out of us, day by day, as the sun dwellers take more and more
from
us.
One day they’ll take our souls.”

He has
a point, but that’s when the second breaking news
story co
me
s
on
, so we turn
our
attention back to the telebox.

The next story is all about us, referred to as

the
escaped guests from the Pen
,
” who a
re deemed to be “armed and dang
erous.”
Our photos and names a
re st
uck to the bottom of the screen
while they show
footage of the destroyed fence, the downed guards, and the dropped guns.
Without explicitly sa
ying it, they imply
that we’
re
responsible for
the whole mess
, rather than
admitting it was
the star dweller bombs
that
caused the destruction
.

Next they gi
ve inf
ormation on who to call if we a
re spo
tted.
Security checkpoints
are being
added to all major subch
apter borders, and roadblocks a
re in place
to search vehicles that may be hiding us.
The penalty for harbori
ng “the fugitives”—meaning us—i
s a life sentence in the Max.

The lead investig
ator, which basically means hunter of humans, i
s speaking li
ve from the Sun Realm, and will be traveling
to subchapter 14 to
personally begin the search.
His name i
s Rivet, and
his face is what sparks
my thoughts about the inherent nature of the human race.

Let me tell ya, I don’t know where they fo
und this guy, or what hole he’
d been hiding in, but he i
s t
he epitome of evil.
His face i
s cold a
nd hard, with black eyes that a
re
so close together they appear
beady, like a snake.
Fierce black eyebro
ws rim
them in
a perpetual frown.
His mouth i
s the snarl of an angry dog.
A three-inch scar cut
s
one of his cheeks in half.
He has a low-
cut Mohawk and
multiple piercings in each ear
, which fit
s
in perfectly with
the dozens of tat
too
s that litter
his muscular frame.
Ev
erything about him screams
intimidation.

His words a
re cold,
like icicles, and I almost feel like he can
s
ee us through the screen, directing
his threats right
at
us.
He keeps
his comments brief: “I
cannot reiterate this enough: W
e
must
apprehend the fugitives as quickly as possible.
They are armed and extremely dangerous.
Their sentences range from murder to treason, and they deserve to be locked away for the rest of their lives.
This office pledges to hunt them down and bring them to justice, to be tried for their new crimes under the law.
Thank you
for your time.”
Cameras flash and reporters yell out questions, but Rivet i
s gone, having disappeared back inside some government building.

“Murder?” I say
.
“I was in for treason, but they didn’t even mention your crimes.
We didn’t kill anyo
ne, they can’t say that!”
I am angry and flustered.
I kne
w
they wouldn’t be fair to us—have never been fair to us—but I don’t want people to think I am
a murderer.

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