The Moon Dwellers (32 page)

“Cole, I’m…I’m…”
I ca
n’t ge
t the right words out—there a
re no right words.

“I know,” Cole says
.
“So now maybe you can see why I just can’t trust that Tristan is good, not when he co
mes from up there.”
He motions to the ceiling, like he i
s pointing to the heavens.

“I thought…I thought you we
re jealous or something,” I say
, right away wishing I hadn’t.

Thankfully, Cole laughs
it off.
“Jealous?
I mean, you’re not a bad
-
looking girl, Adele, very pretty actually, but I’m not really into…how do I put this delicately…
you
.”

Now I laugh, too; it sounds
holl
ow and foreign to me, like it is something I have
n’t experienced in a long time.
“Sorry, I re
alize it was stupid now,” I say
.

He waves
me off.
“So that’s my story.
I’m the murderer in the group, I suppose.”
His e
yes are steely again, but I can
still feel a weakness beh
ind them, a vulnerability.
I’
ve
only
j
ust met him, but he already feels
l
ike a lifelong friend, like I’
ve
known him
forever.
Instinctively, I move
over
and hug
him, squeezing so tightly tha
t if he isn’t
as thick as a bear he mi
ght pop.
It feels
so good
to be hugged by someone a
gain
, even under such awful circumstances
.
Earlier
,
I’
d gotten a taste of it when Tawni held me close after my fight wit
h the gang leader, and now I am
suddenly addicted to human contact.
It
is like I need it to survive.
I do
n’t want to let g
o, but after a few seconds I do
, not wanting to make things awkward between us, or to give him the wrong impression.

He is smiling.
I feel
we’
ve
made a major breakthrough in our relationship, whi
ch has
seemed somew
hat strained at times.
Tawni i
s
smiling, too.
She already feels like my sister
,
after all we’ve
been through together in such a short time.

My real sister’s face pops
into my mind once more
.
“
It’s time to rescue
Elsey,” I say
.

“
Where did you say she i
s
?” Tawni asks
.

“
She’s in an orphanage not far from here.
It’s just across the border into the slums.”

“We should b
e leaving soon anyway,” she says
.
“It’s not safe to linger here.”

Before leaving, we make sure that everything i
s
put back to how we found it.
We “borrow
” a cou
ple of old packs that Tawni says her parents will never miss, and fill
them with nonperishable food from the storeroom.
Unlike most residents of s
ubchapter 14, Tawni’s family has
enough supplies to last them for mon
ths, if not years.
We only take items that a
re available i
n plenty, to ensure no one will notice they a
r
e missing.
Although we expect
to be able to find plenty o
f water along the way, we fill
a couple of jugs from the servants quarters with fresh water from the well before tying our packs shut.

Lastly, Cole
and I
raid
Tawni’s parents’ closets fo
r things to wear.
Tawni points
out the items that her mom
and dad never wear, so they’ll
b
e less likely to realize they a
re gone.
We stuff our gray prisoner uniforms under a mattress in the shed.
Tawni g
rabs
a few old tunics from h
er own closet and
we head
out the back door.

D
aylight is more dangerous for us.
We do
n’t necessarily expect that if s
omeone spots
us that they’
ll
call the hotline and repo
rt us to Rivet, but we also ca
n’t count on silence amongst our people—Tawni’s parents proved that.

The one thing we have going for us i
s that even during the d
aytime, so little electricity i
s provided to our subchap
ter that the overhead lights do
n’t provide enough light for someon
e to recognize us unless they a
re practically right next to us.

Still, we sti
ck to the shadows, pausing to look all around us before moving across ope
n spaces.
Block by block we mak
e our way out of Tawni’s neighbor
hood.
When the houses
change from solid stone blocks to
crumbling bricks, we kno
w we’
ve
reached the slums.
I th
ink we all feel safer now.

The slums a
re exactly as you’d expec
t.
All the houses, if you can call them that (they a
re more like tiny sheds
), a
re in major disrepair and in desp
erate need of some TLC.
Kids ru
n barefoot in the street, playing knights and barbarians with rocks and cardboard
swords.
Dead, staring faces si
t at windows, as i
f waiting for someone to come
save them.
No one i
s co
ming.
Except us, and we a
ren’t there to save them.

Unfortunately, the orphanage i
s in the dead center
of the slums.
Because there i
s so much more activity in the slums than in most neighbo
rhoods—none of the people seem
to work and none of the kids s
eem to go to school—we are
especially careful.
Despite only covering about
ten
blocks, it ta
k
es
us nearly two hour
s to reach the orphanage.
I am ready to scream
when we finally
arrive.

The orphanage i
s probably the best-maintained structu
re in the slums, but it still i
sn’t fit
to live
in.
Certainly not for chil
dren.
I feel
my hands squeeze
into fists s
o tight that my knuc
kles start to ache.
Things were
bad for me, but they might be
worse for Elsey.

The dilapidat
ed door ha
ng
s
precariously by a single hinge, unable to fully clos
e.
At least half the windows a
re broken, either by old age or a few well-aimed rocks from the
neighborhood monsters.
There a
re holes in the roof and cracks in the steps.

We ca
n’t see any activity through the windows
in the front.
The orphanage i
s ringed by a crumbling stone wall, high enough to block our view of the rear yard.

When it appears the coast is clear, we ta
k
e
turns climbing t
he wall while the others cover
us—not with guns but with eyes
, ready to whisper a warning if someone is coming.
We all mak
e it into
the side yard safely.
We creep toward
the back.

As we approach
the
corner of the building, we can
hear voices.
Children laughing, children shouting, nursery rhymes: that sort of thing.

I’m leading and am
about to peek around the co
rner when I feel
something whiz
past my head.
I duck and thro
w myself flat on the groun
d, suddenly believing that we’
ve
bee
n discovered and that someone i
s shooting at us.

Cole chuckl
es
, somewhat loudly.
A cloth b
all rolls
away from us
into the side alley—the cause
of t
he whizzing.
Just as I regain
my feet, a young g
irl, no more than seven, rounds
the corner, nearly colliding w
ith me.
She stops like she
hit a wall, and prep
ares
to scream, opening her mouth wide and leaning her head back.

Cole grabs
her, covering her mouth with his big hand just in t
ime.
Her muffled scream sounds
no louder than the distant echolocation squeal mad
e by a hunting bat.
She starts
kicking
,
so I run to her and start
talking in a low, soothing voice, trying to comfort her.

“It’s okay, little one.
We’re no
t going to hurt you,” I promise
her.
“
We’re just looking for someone—
my sister.”
She still looks
scared, her eyes wide and her breathing strained and rag
ged through her nose, but she i
s calmer, no longer struggling so much.
“Do you promise not to scream or run away i
f my friend lets you go?” I ask
.

She thinks
about
it for a minute and then nods slowly.
I hope she i
sn’t lying.

“Let her go, Cole,” I say
.

He raises an eyebrow, but complies
, releasing the
girl and stepping back.
She doesn’t run, doesn’t scream, just stan
d
s
the
re staring at us.
Then she says
, “They’re going to w
onder where I’ve gone,” she says
in a tiny voice, more fit for a butterfly princess than a little girl.

“Okay,” I say
.
“You can go back.
But first, do you know a girl named Elsey?”

The girl’s eyes light
up at my
sister’s name, and I kno
w we’
ve gotten lucky.
Not only does
this girl know Elsey, but she like
s her and will
want to help her.
It always amazes me how much you can discern from just the look on someone’s face.

“Oh, yes!” she says
, twirling her brown curls with one of her fingers.
“Elsey and I are th
e greatest of friends.
She’s
older than me, but she says I’m old for my age anyways.”

It sounds
like something Elsey would
say.
She’
s
always liked playing with younger kids, making them feel grown
up, special.
I used to think
she might become a schoolteacher.
But that was before my parents
were
abducted.

“Can you tell her A
dele is here to see her?” I say
.
“And help her find an excuse to come around this corner?”

The girl i
s even more excited now
, flapping her arms as if she i
s ready to fly off to find my sister.
“You’re her sister!
Y
ou’re her sister!” she exclaims
.

“Yes,
now please
go tell her.”