Vanquished (27 page)

I don't acknowledge him and by the time I've reached the third floor, I notice the raucous downstairs is louder than ever.

Room 314 glares at me. Am I bold enough to just knock on his door?

Suddenly my brave plan seems awfully stupid. After all the secret meetings Fischer has gone to, after all the careful plans, I'm going to put him in jeopardy by showing up at his door. This is probably the stupidest thing I've done yet.

I knock.

Shuffling comes from behind the door, and a moment later the door opens a crack. A curly-headed guy stands behind it. “Can I help you?”

“I'm looking for Fischer.”

He studies me for a long moment and finally shrugs. “He's not here. Didn't come home after his shift at the hospital.”

Everything else fades away. All I can think is that Dad turned him in. Fischer is gone.

“He didn't come home? Are you sure?”

The big guy chuckles. “Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'm in this room by myself.”

I hesitate, shuffling my feet back and forth. “OK, thanks.”

The roommate shuts the door before I even walk away, and now I face going back to the snake pit below. I fight tears that threaten to break from my eyes. Can I sneak out without anyone noticing?

Doubtful.

Then another idea hits me. I take the steps two at a time to the second floor and find a window at the end of the hall. It slides up easily, and the warm night air hits me in the face. It's the perfect time of year—not too hot or too cold, and the night air is comfortable. Enjoyable.

I stick my head out the window and look for a way down. The first floor of the building is old brick. Most of the bricks are cracked at best and crumbling at worst, but there's a ledge of brick where it meets the plastic siding that covers the upper floors.

I step out on the ledge, willing my knees to stop shaking. I inch my way to the corner of the building. There's a rain spout, and a row of overgrown bushes at the bottom. If I make it to the rain spout I can climb down. If I slip, at least the bushes will break my fall.

My heart beats like footsteps pounding down the sidewalk, but then I realize it
is
footsteps pounding down the sidewalk.

I'm almost at the corner when I glance at the runner.

Fischer's face frowns up at me. “Hana! What are you doing?”

Before I can call out his name, I slip.

The bushes break my fall, but I hit the ground with a thud, branches drawing blood from my arms and face. I try inhaling, but my lungs won't work.

The ability to breathe comes back like a rushing wind, and so does the pain.

I cry out, and Fischer is there.

“My foot,” I say. “I think I broke it.”

“Open your mouth,” he says.

“What?” Is he crazy?

“Just do it.”

I open it and something hard and rough meets my tongue. A piece of wood? He stuck a piece of wood in my mouth to keep me quiet.

“Bite down,” he says. “It will help with the pain.”

I give it a try. It actually works.

“What are you doing here?” he asks. He glances at the stick in my mouth and shakes his head. “Never mind, you can tell me later.”

His hands gently probe my ankle and foot, barely grazing my skin.

I can't help but notice how warm his fingers are on my skin.

“I think you need to go to the hospital.”

Panic rises up my throat, and I shake my head furiously.

“I'm not saying you should go, just that you need to. I wouldn't want to go there if I were you either. I can wrap it for now, but eventually you're going to need it looked at. I can probably get you some pain medicine.”

He sits back on his heels and looks up. “I can't take you in through all those guys, but I can't leave you out here, either.”

There's no more doubt that this is the dumbest thing I've ever done.

“Can you put any weight on it?” he asks. He scrambles to his feet and offers me a hand.

I reach a shaky hand toward him and he tugs. I heave myself up with a grunt. My head spins and my stomach rolls. I turn to the bushes and retch.

I can't believe I'm throwing up in front of Fischer.

“It's OK,” he says softly. He pulls the short hair away from my face, his fingertips grazing my neck.

I shiver and quickly wipe my mouth with my sleeve so he won't notice. “I'm sorry,” I say. “I was trying to find you. You weren't home, and I didn't want to go back through the people downstairs.”

He frowns.

I love being the one who makes him smile, but I hate being the one who makes him frown.

“It was dumb. I have no problem admitting it.”

He smiles a little. “Yeah? OK, let's see if I can help you walk. We'll never make it to your house unnoticed though, I'm just warning you.”

The dread is back. “Let me go alone. I don't want to get you in trouble.”

He ignores me and pulls my arm across his shoulders. “See if you can take a step.”

“Ow!” I cry out, pain ripping through my leg. “No, I can't.”

He pauses. “I don't know what to do.”

This isn't the Fischer I know. He always thinks of something—always has a plan. He's calm and methodical and smart. He'll think of something.

After a moment he looks at me, his eyes unsure. “I have an idea.”

 

 

 

 

48

 

The car's engine purrs softly as Fischer helps me inside. “Are you sure about this? Won't a car draw more attention than just walking?” Already kids on campus are staring at us, their eyes wide with questions, confusion, and jealousy. Not many people get to ride in cars.

“Well, if you could walk we wouldn't be borrowing Westin's car in the first place.” It's the closest I've ever heard him come to losing his patience.

Westin is Fischer's roommate, and he's from our city. Fischer hid me behind the car while he went inside to beg Westin for the favor.

“It'll be fine,” he assures me. “It's not like a guard can catch us on foot. If anyone shows up at your house, we'll deal with it. What else are we supposed to do?”

I know he's right, but I don't like it.

He shuts the door softly behind me, and I lay across the back seat so no one will see us in the car together. The seat is covered in a sticky plastic, and my skin peels off it as I shift. The ceiling of the car is drooped in material, and the entire car smells like a dirty shoe.

Most cars didn't survive the disasters, and no new ones have been built since then except a few that have been re-built by car buffs who use their entertainment allowance to build things.

Fischer climbs in the driver's seat, and we gently start forward.

“Have you ever driven before?”

His silence answers my question pretty well.

“I've never even been inside a car this nice,” I say. “This isn't so bad.” And it isn't. I thought it would be loud and bumpy like the police car, but it's fairly quiet and smooth. The roads are broken and pocked with holes, though, and every jostle sends pain shooting up my leg.

“We're pulling off campus and onto the regular streets now,” he warns. “I'll tell you if I see any guards.”

We drive in silence for a few minutes before he asks, “Why did you come to find me?”

Is he asking because he wants a tangible reason, or because he wants an emotional one? I haven't figured out the emotional one myself. “My dad was gone, and it was after curfew. He blames me for Mom getting sent away. He says it was because I was being watched, and they saw me breaking laws. I needed to talk to someone, and I wanted to make sure you were OK.” It hits me that I might have just asked Keegan to stay, but all I could think of at the time was that Fischer was safe. I bite my lip. Does that mean I chose Fischer over Keegan?

“Your dad came to see me at the hospital,” Fischer says. “That's why I got home late.”

“What?” I can't imagine Dad going to see Fischer. Did Dad hit him? Yell at him? Threaten to turn him in?

“He wanted to know more details about your mom, and he told me what he'd said to you. He also asked me to stay away from you. I'm afraid he's not going to be very happy when he sees us together.”

“No, probably not.” My mind races with questions of my own. “How was Mom?”

“She was at peace. She didn't question them or put up a fight.”

His answer makes me feel better and worse all at the same time. Was she too weak to put up a fight? Or was she truly at peace? “What will happen to her now, Fischer? Will she die?” I bite my lip, trying not to cry.

He's quiet for what feels like ever. “I don't know.”

“What about my dad? He doesn't believe in God.” I can't stop the tears now.

“You have to pray for him,” Fischer says. His eyes watch me in the little mirror on the glass above his head. “You can ask God to show your dad the way.”

I look away from the mirror. More praying. That seems like something I'll have to get used to—kind of like touching people took some adjusting.

“Is it true what your dad said about your Test? Did they say they were going to demote you?”

“I'm not sure,” I say. Guilt burns my stomach like acid. “She didn't say it exactly, but I got that impression.”

He doesn't say anything, but I can see him in the mirror. His mouth is set in a straight line, and his forehead is wrinkled. Does he blame me, too, or maybe he blames himself?

Fischer doesn't speak for long, excruciating minutes. When he finally speaks, his words are so soft I can barely hear them. “It's not your fault.” He pauses, and then says, “There's a guard watching us approach. It looks like she's reporting us in her communicator.”

I bite back my tears. “Will we get in trouble?”

“We
are
out past curfew,” he says. “But we're almost to your house.”

The car slows down and Fischer helps me out.

Pain shoots up my leg again and I gasp.

“Let's get you inside,” he says softly. “Then I can wrap your foot.”

We hobble up the steps to my house, our arms tangled around each other. I've never been so warm in my life.

Fischer stops just before we open the door. He looks at me, his brown eyes serious and intense. “I understand, Hana. And it's OK.”

I stare into those eyes and tears sting my own. He doesn't hate me, and he isn't blaming me.

He reaches up, hesitantly, softly, and brushes a strand of hair from my face. “Are you ready?”

My knees shake, but I nod. We push inside.

Frost Moon, our country's Great Supreme, sits on the couch with Dad, and we stop.

The atmosphere is like a vacuum. My dad's lips are thin and white, and Fischer and I stand frozen, his arm around my waist and my arm around his shoulders. What kind of picture do we paint, the two of us intertwined?

Frost Moon is the only one who doesn't seem at all upset. “Ah, here's the lady I seek. Are you injured, Hana?”

Fischer snaps into action. “She fell. I think her foot may be broken.”

My dad hurries to help me onto the couch. The pain is worse than before, but I bite back a cry as they settle me in. My dad returns to his seat as Fischer shoves his hands in his pockets and steps back, discomfort and uncertainty written all over his face.

“Have you seen a doctor?” Frost Moon asks.

I shake my head, too afraid to speak. Why is he here? Did Dad report me after all? Have they come to take me away?

I tell myself to calm down. Frost Moon didn't come for Jamie's demotion. The Great Supreme is here for something else.

He pulls a letter from his suit coat. Even this late at night he wears a full dress suit of black with white pinstripes. “I came to bring you your Test results, but it appears it will have to wait until we get you looked at.” He glances at Fischer. “Well, Medic, what can you do for her?”

My mind reels that Frost Moon not only sits in my living room wanting to speak to me, but also that he knows Fischer.

Fischer steps forward. “I was going to wrap it for her.”

Frost Moon waves his hand magnanimously. “Be my guest.”

“Do you have a wrap?” Fischer asks Dad. Most houses keep simple first aid kits, since getting to the hospital in and of itself is a hassle.

My dad springs from his seat, obviously glad to have something to do. “It's in the upstairs closet.”

His feet pound up the steps and Frost Moon turns to me.

“When I arrived to deliver your Test results, Hana, your dad was quite distraught that you weren't home. Care to elaborate?”

His eyes are open. Honest. Masked. This is the man who allowed Mom to be sent away. I won't bow to him.

“No.”

His eyebrows shoot up just as Dad comes back downstairs. “Here it is,” he says.

Fischer kneels in front of me and begins working on my foot. My dad watches Fischer closely, but Frost Moon watches me.

I don't back down. I refuse to. He's enabled the people I love to be sent away, and then came here to give me my Test results like I should be happy to see him.

When Fischer finishes he steps away, and all eyes turn to Frost Moon. He doesn't disappoint.

“Miss Hana Norfolk, you have exceeded all expectations. It is rare indeed for one to Test higher than their original standing. Your medic here can tell you that much.” He glances briefly at Fischer and then back to me. Confusion clutters up my head. Testing above one's station?

“We have been watching you for many, many years. You've shown great potential for being a leader, and you have reached a coveted place where you will be in the position to get help to those who need it most.” He glances at Dad. “You must get it from your mother. Hana, do you understand what I'm saying?”

His icy eyes drill into mine. Is he saying what I think he's saying? Because it sounds like he's saying I'm not being demoted.