Vanquished (9 page)

“We're going to hang out,” Jamie says. “Hana will be with us.”

Her mom glances between the two of us. Finally, she sighs. “He can't stay long, do you understand?”

Jamie nods. “OK, Mom.”

She goes back inside the house.

My head spins. “Have you told him yet?”

Jamie shakes her head. “No. I was going to tell him today.”

Panic chokes me. “What?”

“Please, Hana? I can't do it alone.”

I shake my head, trying to get the cobwebs dislodged. “Fine. Tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it.”

 

 

 

 

15

 

Questions play through my mind. What if Easton doesn't support her? What if he does? Will they get married? Live in some Lesser apartment in the housing developments? Will Jamie have to get one of the Lesser-approved jobs, like cleaning the streets? Will they have to lock all their doors at night to keep other Lessers from breaking in and stealing from them or killing them in their sleep?

I've always wanted to help the Lessers, to promote their ability to do good. But now? Faced with the possibility of my best friend being one of them, I'm terrified by the thought of them. Everything I've been taught comes rushing back to me. Drugs, alcohol, crime. How will Jamie survive in such a terrible life? Will my career in Middle government include helping my best friend? I feel weak and old, like I can't bear to carry even the skin that's on my bones. I can't take any more surprises in my life.

We round the house and Easton sits in the grass against a tree. Jamie's backyard looks exactly like mine, and every other yard on our street—a small square of grass enclosed by a rickety, old fence.

Easton smiles when he sees us and shoots to his feet. “Hi,” he says to Jamie alone.

Smitten is the word that comes to mind.

She smiles back, tucking her long brown hair behind her ear. “Hi.”

We stand in an awkward huddle for a second, but Jamie breaks the ice by sitting beside the tree. “How's your afternoon been?” she asks.

As if she didn't just see him at school two hours ago.

Easton shrugs easily. “Fine. I helped my dad at the market until I came here. What about you?”

Jamie glances at me and then looks back to Easton. “It's been good. We went shopping.”

He grins wider. “Yeah, girls like shopping.”

He's such a dork. I don't see what Jamie sees in him at all. The whole backyard seems to be emitting discomfort. Ten feet away is the comfort of my own backyard. How terrible would it be if I just got up and sat in my own grass?

“Did you buy anything?” he asks.

“No, but Hana got some books and soap.”

He nods.

I wonder if this is what all of their time together has been like, but then I think of Jamie's news, and my cheeks burn. Why doesn't she just get it over with?

“Your dad's the dean of the agricultural school, right?” His bug eyes turn on me.

“Yep.”

“My dad says that when they were in school together your dad could make anything grow. He said they called it a green thumb. My dad says I might be the next dean!”

My dad? I've never thought of him being someone's hero before. It's a funny thought. “I guess he is pretty good at growing things.”

“After we Test, I guess I'll get to know him better, huh?”

His carefree words are almost too heavy to handle, but since Jamie hasn't told him the truth yet, I'm not sure how to respond. “Right, because you want to do agriculture.”

Jamie shifts in the grass, groaning a little. “Do we have to talk about the Test? Who really cares about it anyway?”

Easton's eyebrows shoot up. He is obviously confused—everyone cares about the Test.

If the situation wasn't so serious, I might think it was kind of funny. Smitten boy confused by pretty girl.

“Sure, we don't have to talk about it,” he says. “We can talk about whatever you want.”

Jamie huffs again. She keeps her eyes downcast, picking at the skin around her fingers. “I actually have something to tell you, Easton. It's important.”

I watch his eyebrows come together now. His confusion has deepened.

Jamie swallows hard and glances between me and Easton. “I think I'm pregnant.”

The words come out so softly that I almost don't hear them myself. I can tell Easton didn't hear because he's not flipping out yet, and Easton definitely strikes me as the flipping out type.

“Did you hear me?” Jamie asks. Irritation makes her voice rise.

Before Easton can answer, she says more loudly, “I said I think I'm pregnant.”

His face goes whiter than the snow in February. “Huh?”

Jamie starts to cry, an angry frown on her face. “That's all you have to say?”

He shakes his head quickly. “No, I mean, are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

He glances at me, his eyes wide and petrified. “Did you know about this?”

“She told me this afternoon,” I say. My stomach drops, and I don't see the humor in the situation anymore. She's told him. It's real now. My best friend is pregnant, and our lives are about to be changed forever, one way or the other.

“What are you going to do?” Easton says.

Jamie sniffles a few more times. “I'm going to keep the baby. I hoped you'd agree with me on that.”

“I'll do whatever you want me to!”

His passion surprises me. Maybe Jamie is right about him.

“You know what that means though, right?” I ask. I feel obligated to give him a reality check. “You won't get to Test for agriculture. You'll be sent away to a Lesser city.” I can't picture Easton as a Lesser. Everything about him reminds me of Dad, and that picture doesn't fit at all.

I watch the realization set in. His eyes lose some of their light. His shoulders sag a fraction lower. It's like I've just cut away a few years of his life.

“I don't care,” he says. He takes Jamie's hands. “I'll stay with you no matter what.”

She smiles through her tears. “I knew you would.”

“I love you, Jamie.”

“I love you, too.” They stare at each other, Jamie crying, Easton ashen.

Now my backyard looks doubly tempting.

Jamie's mom storms through the backyard. “Jamie!” she shrieks.

Jamie and Easton's hands fly apart like two negative magnets. Red floods Jamie's face and Easton stands quickly. “I guess I should go,” he says.

Jamie's mom glares at him as he makes his hasty retreat, and then she stomps to the tree. “What was all that about?”

Jamie wipes her tears and stands up. “Nothing Mom. It was nothing.”

Her mom isn't at all convinced.

I stand, too. “I better get home, Jamie. I'll see you later.”

No one looks at me, so I sprint across the yard and into the safety of my own house. I peek out the window and see mother and daughter fighting. Her mom is obviously suspicious of the whole Jamie/Easton relationship. Jamie pushes past her mom and storms into her backdoor.

I can't help but wonder how long Jamie will be able to keep her secret.

 

 

 

 

16

 

I'm glad for the quiet of the hospital lobby today. No one met me after school, and I came immediately after class. I'm thankful to be able to visit with Mom alone and give her the books I bought her. I want to laugh with her and see her smile. I don't want to think about Jamie, a baby, Easton, or Lessers.

Fischer meets me in the hallway with a smile, as usual. “Hey, Hana. How are you today?”

Terrible.
“Good, how are you?”

“Doing great. Are you still up for that class?”

Of course I know what he's talking about, but why is he talking in code? I glance around and see Dr. Bentford bent over a desk in an alcove behind Fischer's work area. “Absolutely. When is it again?”

“I can't remember. I'll let you know before you leave. Don't leave without seeing me.”

“Right. I won't.”

He moves on to his work station, and I consider the meeting with him. I feel better equipped to deal with the problems surrounding a corrupt government today. It's less painful than finding out my best friend isn't exactly who I thought she was. I hurry to Mom's room.

“Hana!” she says. She's sitting up today, nibbling on fruit. Maybe this means progress.

Guilt hits me for not visiting yesterday. “I brought you these.” I pull the books I bought from my bag.

Her smile lights up the room. “Hana, these are great. Thank you so much.” Her voice sounds happy enough, but she looks pale. Her eyes are pinched.

“Do you need anything, Mom? Water or medicine?”

“No, no. I'm OK.”

But I can tell she's not.

“What do they say about the nutrition treatments? Did you ever ask about coming home?”

“I did ask, but they said it's best to monitor me here.”

She didn't answer my first question. I can tell the nutrition treatments aren't working, and fear bubbles up in my stomach. It feels like stew when it's left too long on the stove—thick and inedible.

I force the thoughts away and sit in the chair beside the bed. “Have you read any of these before?”

“No, I've never seen them.”

That's not surprising, since there are only a few copies of any given book that's been found in a dig.

“Jamie helped me pick them out. She knows you almost as well as I do.”

My mom smiles at that. “I'm a little surprised she hasn't come with you to visit.”

“She's been busy lately,” I say.
Busy doing things she shouldn't be doing and getting herself into a mess.

Maybe I shouldn't have kept her from coming with me all those times she offered. The thought takes my breath away.
Is her pregnancy partly my fault?

I shake myself. I don't want to think about this here.

“Your friend Ava's been visiting me, too, while she's here to see her brother. There's something strange going on there.”

I'm intrigued that she says this. “Do you think so?”

“I don't know what it is, but why wouldn't they let the family see him? It doesn't make any sense.” She takes a shaky breath and closes her eyes.

As much as I want to get her opinion on this, I'm more worried about her actions. “Are you OK, Mom?”

She nods but keeps her eyes closed.

“It hurts, doesn't it?”

My mom doesn't say anything and I know this means yes.

Seeing her like this hurts me. I can't stand the thought of her in pain. My eyes burn and my stomach clenches.

The door slides open and Dr. Lane walks in. “Hi Hana. How are you?”

“Mom's in pain,” I say, ignoring her question. “Isn't there something we can give her?”

Dr. Lane frowns. She checks Mom's temperature and does a routine examination. “Would you like more pain medicine?”

Mom nods silently, and Dr. Lane marks something on Mom's chart. “I'll let Fischer know, and he'll be in shortly.”

Mom's eyes are closed again.

I glance at Dr. Lane's retreating back. I want to know more. “I'll be right back, Mom.”

I catch Dr. Lane in the hallway. “How's she doing? With the mutation, I mean?”

Dr. Lane glances at the door to Mom's room. “Have you asked her those questions?”

“Yes, she won't say anything. The treatments aren't working, are they?”

Dr. Lane sighs. “Not as well as I'd like. I haven't lost hope, though. I'm trying to get some other things worked out.”

Chemo drugs. An ember of hope flames to life. “OK, thanks.”

Dr. Lane smiles. “Fischer will be back in a bit with the pain meds.”

I slip back into Mom's room and wait for Fischer. My mom's already asleep, and my head swims with the knowledge that she's questioning the actions of the Greaters where Markus Huckleberry is concerned. My parents have always supported the government every step of the way. I got that from them, I guess. If Mom is questioning them now, though, what does that mean for me?

Fischer comes in a few minutes later. He injects a yellow liquid into Mom's IV line, and then pulls a paper from his pocket and hands it to me.

“I hope you'll be there,” he says quietly. “There will be people who can answer your questions better than I can.”

I'm surprised because I thought it would be just me and him. Embarrassment hits me, but I hide it by looking down. At least he doesn't know I thought it'd be just the two of us. But then I think of Jamie's warning and a silent relief floods through me.

Still, I'm nervous at the same time. There are others? People who know strange things are going on, and who know the government isn't all it promises to be?

This thought strikes me as eerie, like I've just learned about an alternate world right in my own backyard.

I nod. “I'll be there.”

“Good. I'll see you around.” He checks Mom one last time and then backs from the room.

He's so quiet when he moves. So gentle. Caring.

I'm glad he's taking care of Mom. It reminds me of Ava—a natural caretaker. I admire him.

I unfold the note.
871 Kensington Ave. 11 PM. Tonight.

I swallow hard. Let's see if I get caught after curfew this time.

 

 

 

 

17

 

I slip into the dark backyard as quietly as I can. I'm not exactly a pro at sneaking around, and I hope no one can hear my thundering heartbeat. A bright moon lights my pathway, and I can see clearly. That's good and bad. Good because I can see, but bad because so can others. The address Fischer gave to me is familiar. Kensington Avenue is across town. Its houses are older, falling apart. No one lives there, or at least I thought no one did.