Strikers Page 8

  I have so many questions but all of them lead back to a single focus: my father. How did he hook up with Maddix? Why did they both come back? The questions are endless.

  “Maddix, why did you come back?” I ask, after we’ve been quiet a while.

  He twists in his seat like an eel till he’s facing us. Maddix is tall and lanky, but not awkward. He was always the one who could clamber up a drainpipe and jump off a roof with a flip as a flourish. He has the same board-straight hair as Connor, but his is longer and that softens the angles somehow. Maddix would have been one of those boys all the girls in school crushed on if he had come from a different family. To me, he’s more like a brother, though I’m not blind to his good looks. The bruises and swollen nose hide those looks for now, but he’ll heal soon enough.

  Maddix grins and reaches out a long arm to flick Connor on the top of his head, not hard, but as a tease. “I had to come back for my brother here. After I met up with Jordan, we talked and—well, here we are.”

  That is possibly the most incomplete answer I’ve ever heard and I scowl at him until he laughs and says, “There’s a lot more to it, but that’s for when we stop and have some time to talk. I’m not the only one with a story.” He jabs a thumb toward my father, still intent on the road ahead, and twists back around to sit facing forward again.

  Silence settles over us again like a blanket, each of us wrapped up in our own thoughts. Cassi’s eyes have closed in sleep, her head shifting against the window. The marks of her tears are still on her cheeks, faint streaks of lighter skin on her dusty face. Her freckles stand out along those streaks and it makes her seem so young, rather than a year older than me.

  Connor is still staring out of the window too, but he keeps glancing toward his brother in the front seat, as if reassuring himself that he’s still there. Our hands are still entwined on the small bit of seat between us and I’m not about to let go.

  Out of all us, it’s only Connor whose life might be said to have improved by this turn of events. His two strikes would surely not have been his last and now, he will finally be free from his parents and their never-ending schemes. Even I can’t be sure my life will change for the better by striking, only that it will be different.

  Outside, the land is dark and formless as it passes by, the only illumination from the headlights directly ahead of us. All those lights serve up is a quickly passing series of potholes my father swerves to avoid. While I watch, another light goes out on the charge indicator.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I startle awake when the nature of the road changes. Instead of the washboard shaking, it’s become a slow, violent lurching. When I rub my eyes and the world comes back into focus, I see all three in the front seat peering forward and to the sides intently. Cassi and Connor both have hold of the straps above the windows and Connor has his other arm stretched protectively across my chest. I tap his arm to let him know I’m awake and grip the front seats to keep myself in place.

  The world outside has changed in the brief time I was asleep. There’s just rubble and the shells of half-fallen buildings, all of it eerily lit in flashes by the moving headlights. I can’t make heads or tails of what I’m seeing, but everyone else seems to be looking for something specific.

  Maddix breaks the silence by pointing at something to the right and yelling, “There!”

  My father jerks the wheel and illuminates what Maddix pointed to. Its looks just like another pile of rubble to me, but with a big black hole in it. He stops the vehicle, leaving it pointed toward the black recess, and says, “Go check it out. It looks good from here.”

  Maddix climbs out of the jumper and runs toward the hole, a flashlight in his hand. When he gets close to it I can see it’s much larger than it looked. He’s dwarfed inside it and his light flickers around the ragged walls. He disappears inside, only the glow of his light telling me which way he went.

  He comes out and waves the flashlight for Jordan to drive forward. The vehicle jerks and I look at the dash. It has one light remaining on the charge panel and it’s flickering between yellow and red, a sign I take to mean we’re about out of juice.

  When we pull even with Maddix, he leans in to say, “It’s tighter further inside so everyone needs to get out now.” To my father he says, “You can climb out the back once you pull in.”

  We scramble out and wait while my father drives into the maw of what was once a building. When the lights go out, the darkness is oppressive. I must not be the only one who feels it because Maddix turns the flashlight back on and starts winding the crank.

  Inside the cave of rubble, my father pops out of the rear hatch of the jumper with a grin and waves us forward to collect our bags and such. It doesn’t take long to get all of our stuff, which is depressing because we’ve got a long way to go if we’re going to get away.

  “Let’s start grabbing stuff to close this up,” my father says and drops his parcels to look around.

  I dig out my flashlight and examine the area. I’ve never seen anything like this place. The remains of buildings are everywhere, jumbled in heaps. Small gaps here and there show where streets must have once divided them. Twisted spires of rusted metal stick up out of broken masonry, and the glitter of long broken glass reflects from the piles.

  My father, Jovan and Maddix are stacking junk at the opening of the cave in a deceptively haphazard pile. I grab an old board and it makes a sharp snap as the rotted wood breaks free.

  Soon enough, it will be hard to tell that there was ever a gap there instead of this disordered pile of broken concrete, brick and wood. I have no idea what it might look like later, when full daylight comes, but by the light of all our flashlights, it’s pretty convincing.

  “That’ll have to do. Let’s go,” my father says, slinging a couple of our sacks over one shoulder. I notice he keeps his hand free on the side he carries the gun in case he needs to grab the weapon quickly.

  We load up and head into the rubble in single file, my father taking the lead and Maddix pulling up the rear. It’s not easy going without my hands free to help balance or pull myself up on the shaky piles of rocks, but the short window of time we have to get hidden for the day urges me onward.

  I marvel at the size of the city while we walk. Block after block of destruction in what was once a place where people lived and commerce was done. It’s hard to believe so many people could have lived in one place. How could they ever grow enough food for themselves with no space between the buildings for crops?

  I’ve heard about Dallas and Houston but never been to either place. I always hoped I’d earn enough someday to merit a permit, even if only to go and see for a little while. The way those cities are described sounds a little like this, only without the destruction. We send crops and meat there because they can’t grow enough for themselves. It’s a part of the general tax. I wonder if this place was the same and needed support from dozens of communities like our cities do.

  Purple and pink are beginning to show on the horizon when my father finally calls a halt. We’re all sweaty and grimy and I’m so thirsty my tongue feels like it’s swelling inside my mouth. It’s not yet true dawn, but that’s only a few minutes away. Even so, its light enough that I can see our surroundings beyond the circle of my flashlight in shades of gray.

  Apparently, my father can too because he and Maddix examine the rubble and the few standing walls nearby with care, as if they’re looking for something. They nod at each other in some unspoken agreement while the rest of us stand there and try to catch our breath.

  “In here,” my father says and jumps lightly down from a giant wedge of concrete that has lifted up under some enormous pressure to create a good vantage point.

  We follow him into a building made of pale stone that’s still in pretty good shape, all things considered. The windows are all gone but the walls are mostly intact. I count as we enter and see nine more rows of holes where windows used to be above the ground floor. I can’t tell if the roof is intact
, but with so many floors above us, we at least have a shot at a dry place if the longed-for spring rain finally comes.

  He leads us further into the interior until the last of the brightening dawn behind us disappears and the darkness is broken only by our wavering flashlights. Finally, he grunts and drops his burdens.

  “This will do,” he says.

  The room is pretty big and has just one door. A large wooden table lies canted to the side in the center, one of its supports having collapsed sometime in the past. A few old chairs on wheels in the corner are thickly covered in dust. It’s as good a place as any.

  We set about pushing all the debris to one side of the room, leaving us a clear space to gather. We turn the long table up on its side to block the doorway, and it makes me feel safer, more hidden, almost immediately. I’m so tired I feel like I could sleep for days, but I want information even more than sleep. I need to know what we’re planning, where we’re going and most importantly, I need to know why he came back.

  There’s no fire possible in the closed room so a cold supper and the blessed relief of water is what we’re allowed. One of my water containers is emptied almost immediately. A gallon of water between the six of us only lasts a few rounds. We’ve got two more and the little canteens, but at this rate, they won’t last long. My father sprinkles some of the water inside the bag that I put the greens in, perhaps hoping they won’t wilt as badly if there’s moisture.

  While we munch on carrots brushed relatively free of dirt and some spinach, we talk.

  “I know you’ve got questions, but the bottom line up front is that Maddix let me know what was going on with you and I came to get you. He came back for Connor,” my father says.

  The way he says it is very matter-of-fact, like it’s the most reasonable thing in the world to come back for a daughter he left behind without a word when she was an infant barely taking her first steps. But there is a message behind his words and I think I understand them. My mother wasn’t always like this. She hadn’t always been a drunk. He didn’t know she’d become the way she is. How could he?

  I glance at my father and he gives me a half-smile, letting me know that I’m right.

  “I made it to the border,” Maddix says, taking over the story. “They take all your information there, like your name and all of that, and when I told them I was from Bailar Territory and from the town of Bailar, they let me come in. Before I knew it, they had me talking with Jordan on a radio. I told him everything I knew and, well, the rest is history.”

  “And you came back with him?” I ask Maddix.

  “Honestly, I never thought I’d come back, but once I met Jordan and I had a chance to see what was out there, I had to come back for my little brother. You wouldn’t believe what the world is really like.”

  Cassi yawns loudly and I take it as a hint, even though I’m sure she doesn’t mean it that way.

  “So how long are we staying here?” I ask, indicating the room around us.

  Jordan sighs and says, “I hate to burn the time but I think we should stay here and get some rest while it’s light out and then head out tonight. If we hid the jumper as well as I think we did, then we should be safe. There’s a lot to search here and if we’re lucky, they won’t even try.”

  “How likely is that?” I ask.

  “Pretty likely, I’d say. Wicha is big and spread out over a large area. This building wasn’t marked and I didn’t see any marks anywhere near it, so I don’t think this is claimed territory. Those marks aren’t easy to read or find, so mostly the soldiers just avoid this area. It’s too easy to lose your vehicle and everything else in Wicha if you come up on a bad group.”

  Jovan has settled down, his head nestled on his arm and his long legs stretched out behind me, but he stirs and says, “That’s true. But this time they might make an exception.”

  “Which is exactly why laying low in here for a while is a good idea. It’s much easier to get past any guards in the dark,” my father answers.

  That seems to be the end of it because he settles down as well, using one of our sacks for a pillow. Everyone else does the same so I do, too. I can’t help but look at Jordan one last time before turning off my flashlight. There’s more to him than I can guess at, but if we make it out of this, it looks like I’ll have lots of time to find out.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jovan wakes me with a gentle push on my shoulder. When I open my eyes he smiles and says, “You were snoring.”

  I just grunt at him and push his hand away. Waking up isn’t my best skill and I’m usually a little grumpy and confused for a minute or two. When I sit up my entire body feels like someone beat on it with a bag of sand. Stiff and sore is really not a strong enough description. Between scrambling over rubble in the dark and sleeping on a hard floor, I’m a moody mess.

  Weak light is leaking around the big table we used for a door and it’s enough to see everyone else is either awake or getting there. Jordan turns on a flashlight and sets it so that the light reflects off the stained ceiling, instantly brightening the room enough to make me squint.

  “How long were we asleep?” I ask, nodding towards Jovan’s watch.

  He glances down and says, “It’s about an hour before dark. You’ve been snoring all day.” He grins at me to show he’s joking, but I’m not in any mood to be teased and it shows. At my sour expression, he pulls a face and drawls, “Oookay.”

  We pass around another water carrier, Jordan cautioning us to take only what we need to break our immediate thirst. It’s hard to resist gulping down as much as I can hold, but I do. It tastes clean and delicious, and it washes away the dry, dirty feeling in my throat and mouth.

  I’m hungry and I feel grimy on top of being thirsty. When I run my fingers through my hair to pull out the snarls, dust flies out in a cloud. It’s hopeless so I put it back into its ponytail and leave it alone.

  Jordan motions us over to the opposite corner of the room. He squats and smooths out the thick layer of dirt on the floor. We surround his work area and he draws a picture for us while he speaks.

  “Wicha is laid out along this road here,” he says, and points to a long snaking line he’s drawn. “But it’s spread pretty widely out from there. We want to avoid going through here or here, and especially here.”

  He emphasizes the locations by poking his finger into the dirt. To me it looks like he’s making a line of dots along both sides of the road he’s drawn, leaving us with very little space to maneuver. He makes a new line well away from the others and says, “We’ve got a better shot at getting through if we take the small streets around to the north. No vehicles could make it through there and it’s not a likely place for patrols to make camp. There are too many places for people to hide or sneak up on them.”

  Jovan nods, obviously following this line of reasoning, while the rest of us just look on. I have no idea what would be best, but I can figure out that if we’re going through places that vehicles can’t get through, then there’s more rubble. I’m not looking forward to it. My thighs are burning just thinking about more hours of rubble-climbing.

  Jordan tells us he’s going to scout, so we help move the heavy table away from the door. The light is golden, the kind that comes right before sunset. I wish I were at home, sitting on the roof with Connor and watching the sun disappear, knowing a good dinner and a warm bed awaited me below.

  Before he slips out, Jordan turns to me and runs a rough palm across my cheek. He smiles and says, “I’m so happy you’re here, Karas. Things will get better, you’ll see.”

  It’s an odd thing to say given our situation, but I return the smile with a tentative one of my own. Then he disappears into the street and I’m left hoping he’ll return safe and sound.

  Before we’ve even finished packing up, he slips back in and tells us we’re clear to go. He leads once more and we trail along behind him like ducklings. The rubble is less intense as we leave the area where the tall buildings dominate. As we move north an
d the moon rises to break the darkness, the buildings grow squatter, with more space between them. I can see the faded remains of lines on some of the broken asphalt between buildings, and Jordan tells me those are parking lots, places where people parked their cars while they went inside the stores to shop.

  I find it hard to believe. The lot we’re crossing is huge and just the few lines I can make out with my flashlight tell me the individual spaces were small. That means there’s room for a hundred cars at least. The low line of a one-story building lies to the side of the lot, all the windows broken out, some of the gaps filled with old wood while others yawn black and empty. Just from the number of them and the shapes of old door openings, I can tell there were a dozen stores. It seems impossible that so many people had cars and there were so many places to shop.

  In Bailar we’ve got exactly one store. Any number of stalls might be set up in the town market, but we’ve just got the one store. As for cars, the soldiers have them and the regular people have the town transport. That consists of two open-sided buses that can seat a dozen people, with hanging-on room for a few more if they don’t mind being jerked around. Only one is in use at a time, but you can be sure that every half hour during the day it will come around and get you to the other side of our small town in less than fifteen minutes. I can’t imagine a need for so many cars.

  Jordan hurries us along in these open spaces and we make good time. The moon is high in the sky when he stops us for a much-needed break. My legs have loosened up and they feel better than they did when I first woke up. My feet, on the other hand, are dog-tired. The way Cassi drops to the ground and groans when she loosens her bootlaces tells me I’m not the only one feeling it.

  She and Connor have been talking quietly for most of the night. Behind me, I heard the low back-and-forth between Jovan and Maddix every once in a while, too. Jordan has been quiet and intent, scanning ahead of us and figuring out our path. It’s only me who has been both alone and unoccupied, simply following along. I know it’s not intentional, but I feel a little left out.