Truancy Origins (34 page)

By now Umasi had reached the corner of an intersection, and a moment later another Enforcer patrol car came into sight from a perpendicular street. Tires screeching, it swerved dangerously before coming to a halt right before the intersection. Two Enforcers tumbled out of it and begin firing upwards, their shots quickly returned as Umasi realized the Truants must have soldiers on the rooftops. For a moment it looked like a stalemate as neither Truant nor Enforcer was able to hit the other. Then Umasi saw an explosion rock a building right above the Enforcers, and large chunks of masonry fell down like a brick avalanche, burying the Enforcers and their car. Umasi knew there would be no survivors under that mess, and despite his horror he felt a sort of morbid admiration for the Truancy's effective tactics.

Just then, an out-of-control patrol car began charging down the street,
swerving haphazardly. Umasi leapt out of the way just in time as it slammed into the other Enforcer car he'd been crouching behind. More shots rang out. Umasi dashed around the street corner and into another smoke cloud. He knew that if Zen was here, he had to be close; the gunshots had become increasingly rapid as he got deeper in. In the middle of the smoke cloud, Umasi suddenly saw two dark figures struggling hand-to-hand. Moving in closer, he saw that it was an Enforcer swinging his truncheon at a Truant, who was dodging nimbly.

Umasi darted in and swung his own truncheon, slamming it into the back of the Enforcer's head. The Enforcer stumbled forward, and the Truant kicked the man in the face, sending him sprawling on the ground. Before the Truant could utter his thanks, Umasi swung at him too, knocking the boy upside the head. The boy staggered back, dazed, and Umasi seized the opportunity to sweep the Truant's legs from under him. Umasi then tossed the truncheon aside as he continued running, leaving both Enforcer and Truant groaning on the ground behind him.

Umasi found himself close to another alley as he emerged from the smoke. Shaking his head in an attempt to clear the ringing from his ears, Umasi ran forward to the cover of the alley. As he slipped in, he suddenly stopped short, feeling a jolt of stunned elation. There, standing in the alley with a smoking gun, was Zen.

Umasi's elation was swiftly replaced by horror, and his heart nearly stopped as he realized what exactly it was that Zen was standing over.

 

R
othenberg stared in disbelief at the receiver as another frantic voice on the radio turned to static. His coffee lay spilled on the ground some distance away as he grasped his radio in one hand and a Truant's neck in the other. The boy had tried to shoot at him from an alley, but Rothenberg's aim had not deteriorated since his promotion. He'd shot the kid in the arm and then captured him easily. Yet Rothenberg now felt paralyzed, unable to think about anything else except how mad the world had suddenly become.

Rothenberg had lagged behind as the rest of his small task force had moved in to surround the Mayor's son and his handful of supposed “bodyguards.” The boy Chris had promised an easy pickup; the four guards would be scattered, and their leader held at gunpoint until they arrived. Rothenberg had almost gone ahead in person, but had decided not to when the arrest would be so routine, so easy.

Too easy, apparently.

Rothenberg cursed aloud and squeezed his captive's neck tighter, causing the unfortunate boy to sputter pathetically.

“What is this?” Rothenberg snarled at the child. “What do you brats think you're playing at?”

“We're . . . Truants . . . and you're . . . going to die,” the boy choked out, and then spat in Rothenberg's face.

Rothenberg roared in outrage, dropping his radio and wringing the rebel's neck like a stuffed animal. Several moments later, Rothenberg dropped the limp body to the ground as a subordinate Enforcer ran up to him, looking pale and horrified.

“What's going on?” Rothenberg demanded. “What the
hell
is going on?”

“It's the task force, sir,” the Enforcer explained. “The patrols that went ahead apparently all set off some sort of explosives while driving to the pickup point.”

“Well, what do the survivors have to say for themselves?” Rothenberg asked menacingly.

“There don't seem to be any survivors, sir,” the Enforcer said. “Lots of gunshots and more explosions, but we can't raise anyone on the radio anymore.”

“Dammit!” Rothenberg kicked the dead boy's body in frustration.

“If I may suggest something, sir,” the Enforcer said, “I think we should scour the rest of District 15. We might catch some of them as they return to their base, and the informant did say they'd holed up somewhere in District 15 for now.”

“No, you idiot!” Rothenberg raged, kicking the body again. “Don't you see? It was a trick, that brat Chris was playing us all along. Holed up in District 15—hah! Who knows what other nasty surprises they've planted there for us? They just lured us out here so that they could ambush us! The boy's info was phony from the start!”

“If you say so, sir,” the Enforcer said. “What should we tell the Mayor?”

“Nothing,” Rothenberg snapped. “Keep this quiet for as long as you can, I'll talk to him myself when I have to. Now get out of my sight.”

With that, Rothenberg stormed back to his patrol car and slammed the door shut, breathing heavily in his fury. He had been made a fool of today, by kids, no less. Nothing could have enraged him more than that. A dark expression gathered on his face as he ran a large hand over his bristly head. He might have lost this one, but he'd even the score, no matter how many dead children it took.

 

Z
en sighed and fired another shot into an Enforcer's motionless body, just to be sure. Things had gotten a little hairier than he'd anticipated. He had not expected the Enforcers to be able to penetrate this far through their explosive
traps, but from what he'd seen, things had gone well for the Truancy nonetheless. He had not seen any Truants fall, though Zen knew that there would have to be a casualty or two when the smoke cleared.

Having sent Noni up to scout out the battle from a rooftop above, Zen had battled the two Enforcers that had reached him all alone. All the other Truants had stuck to their assigned positions, where Zen believed they would be more effective. He was on high alert, having just concluded a fierce battle, and so when he heard footsteps approaching him from behind he didn't hesitate. Acting on instinct, Zen spun around and fired. The gunshot rang throughout the alley, and a figure crumpled to the ground.

But as Zen bent over to inspect his victim, he was dismayed to see that it wasn't an Enforcer, but an unarmed boy he didn't recognize. He was sure it wasn't a Truant, whose faces he all knew by now. Perhaps it was just a vagrant that had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Twinges of guilt wormed their way through Zen's conscience, but he quickly suppressed them. He couldn't afford to get emotional now, not at such a crucial juncture. It had been an accident. Unfortunate, but not intentional. Reassuring himself with those thoughts, Zen straightened back up.

And saw Umasi staring at him with wide-eyed shock.

 

S
lowly, disbelievingly, Umasi crouched, staring at his fallen friend. Red still stubbornly clung to life, his chest heaving up and down, but there was a lot of blood, and Umasi knew he was doomed. With one hand, Umasi turned Red's head to face him, and found that Red's eyes were still open as he breathed in pained gasps.

“It's all right . . .” Red breathed, bringing a hand to his appendix. “Hit me here . . . it hurts . . . less . . . now . . .”

Red's voice trailed off feebly, and Umasi numbly looked at Red's wound, which was too high to have actually struck the appendix. Still, Umasi couldn't find the words to correct him. He couldn't find any words at all. He could only watch as, one increasingly ragged gasp at a time, Red's life faded out there in the alley, right before Umasi's eyes.

Silently, Umasi rose, eyes fixed on the boy he'd known for only a few days, and yet one he counted as his only friend. He might've stayed there in shock forever, if Zen had not spoken up at that moment.

“He was collateral damage,” Zen said coldly. “Nothing mo—”

Umasi's fist slammed into Zen's chest. Zen's eyes widened in shock, the wind completely knocked out of him. The next thing he knew, Umasi's foot connected with his gut, shoving him backwards, leaving him sprawling on
the ground. Zen looked up at Umasi and froze, suddenly feeling true terror for the first time in years.

Zen had never seen his brother like this before. Umasi's face was contorted with rage, his dark eyes shining with fury as he advanced upon Zen's helpless form. Zen quickly scrambled to his feet, throwing a quick punch at his oncoming assailant, only to have his wrist seized effortlessly. Before Zen could move, Umasi lunged forward headfirst, slamming his forehead into Zen's face.

Zen crashed against the brick wall behind him, his nose bleeding as Umasi brought his knee forcefully up to collide with Zen's ribs. Zen gasped in disbelief and pain as Umasi proceeded to punch him repeatedly in the belly. As he wheezed, Umasi seized Zen by the neck and threw him to the side. Winded, Zen landed on the ground clutching his gut.

Looking around the alley, Umasi spotted a rusted crowbar lying on the ground. He seized the weapon and spun around with grim determination, prepared to finish his brother once and for all . . .

And suddenly found himself staring into a pair of wide, icy, pleading eyes.

“Get out of the way,” Umasi said in a low, dangerous tone.

Though the girl who stood before him had a black scarf wrapped around her lower face, Umasi recognized her as the one Zen had called Noni when they met at the pier. She refused to budge, staring at Umasi with those disturbing blue eyes. He growled menacingly, raising the crowbar above his head. The girl flinched slightly, though she didn't move an inch.

“GET OUT OF THE WAY!” Umasi roared.

In response, Noni stretched her arms out to either side, shielding Zen. Zen looked completely thunderstruck as he stared up at the girl that had interposed herself between him and his brother. Umasi snarled with frustration and stepped to the side, trying to get around Noni. She matched his movement, always placing herself between him and Zen no matter where he moved.

Finally, Umasi raised the crowbar again in aggravation and brought it swinging down at the stubborn girl.

“Noni, move!” Zen shouted.

She didn't listen, shutting her eyes as she waited for the blow.

It didn't come. Opening her eyes, she saw the scary boy breathing heavily as he glared at her, the crowbar quivering an inch from her head. Then tears began running down the boy's face, and he dropped his weapon to the ground where it clattered loudly. Crying quietly now, he walked over to
where the dead child now lay in a pool of his own blood, and gently lifted the body and slung it over his shoulder.

Ignoring the blood spilling all over his clothes, Umasi spun around and walked out of the alley, his shoulders still heaving with silent sobs as he went. Noni did not lower her arms until he was safely out of sight.

 

U
masi opened the box of matches with shaking hands. Everything was ready, at last, yet he couldn't bring himself to finish it. Red had been a friend when he had none, the only one to stand by him as he confronted his own brother. But Umasi had failed in the end, and his friend had died for nothing at all. Gazing over the edge of the pit that he had dug in the soil of an abandoned construction site, Umasi looked down at the body that lay within, resting atop a neat pile of planks that he had arranged.

There should have been a funeral procession, Umasi thought, or an acknowledgment of some sort. But there had been nothing for Red. No one knew, and no one cared that this particular life had been lost that day. No one except Umasi, who had carried the body back alone, through empty streets, under lonely bridges, until he had finally returned to District 19, his home.

Few vagrants ever died with someone to mourn them. Red, at least, would have one person see to his funeral. Umasi knew that parting words were appropriate, but he struggled to find some that fit. In the end, he decided upon the simplest.

“I'm sorry,” Umasi murmured as he looked down at the friend he had failed. “I know that you wouldn't have blamed me, but I'm sorry.”

With that, Umasi solemnly lit a match and tossed it down into the pit, where it quickly ignited the gasoline that he'd poured over the wood. Soon all of it was ablaze, tongues of flame dancing upwards, slicing through the darkness, sending sparks flying upwards to join the stars. Umasi, however, continued only to gaze down into the heart of the fire and the body that burned within it.

Soon black plumes of smoke began to rise, and a horrible smell—acrid yet sweet—reached Umasi's nostrils. He didn't flinch—not from the stench, or from the heat that seared his skin, or the smoke that stung his eyes. He remained perfectly motionless until the last of the flames had died down, leaving only glowing embers and a pile of ash.

Umasi sighed, and the cool wind seemed to sigh with him. He had thought that cremating the body was the best thing to do. He wasn't sure if Red would've minded rats gnawing at his corpse, but Umasi hadn't been able to bear that thought. Now that it was over Umasi had decided to bury the pyre anyway.

Umasi picked up a shovel and cast the first dirt down into the bottom of
the pit. The embers still flickered at him as he worked, but he paid them no mind, as his was elsewhere. He should have felt sadness. All he could find was anger. He wanted nothing more than to swear on that grave that he would put an end to Zen, that he would make sure that no one in the City would ever have to feel such anger again. His brother had truly become a monster, a murderer, and there was no longer any question of reasoning with him.