Authors: Gregg Rosenblum
ALL THEY KNEW WAS THAT THE CITY WAS FAR TO THE EAST. HOW FAR, and where exactly, they had no idea. So they walked. After a day of hiking they were farther away from Freepost than they had ever been on their own. On the second day, the forest abruptly thinned and then opened up onto a wide paved road, six lanes of cratered and warped asphalt with an overgrown grassy median.
Kevin stood on the pavement straddling a deep crack, with no trees for twenty yards to the left and right. He wanted to follow the empty road, at least around the bend, hoping to find something to scavenge, but Nick and Cass had shot down that idea. Just then a bird flew overhead, and he flinched at the shadow and realized just how exposed and vulnerable he was, away from the trees. He quickly rejoined his brother and sister.
“I hate it when you’re right,” he said to Nick.
“Don’t look at me. Cass agreed, too,” said Nick.
“Yeah, but I only hate it when
you’re
right.”
They stuck to the woods, keeping close to a river that ran roughly east–west. They walked and walked, and talked little. The silence bothered Kevin, but what was there to say? That he missed home? That their plan was crazy and seemed crazier every day? They didn’t know where the City was, or even if their parents were actually there. And if they were there—being tortured by the bots, starved, held in cages like animals—what could he and Nick and Cass possibly do about it? Just walk in, open their cage, and walk out?
Their supply of MREs ran out after four days. “Good,” said Kevin. He was sick to death of the gray jellied meat, the watery mashed potatoes, the slimy peach slices. “I hope I never eat another damned MRE the rest of my life.”
“Two days of living off the forest and you’ll be begging for more MREs,” said Nick.
Kevin wouldn’t admit it, but Nick was right again. After a few days of chewing on tough roots and bitter flowers, with the occasional handful of berries, they were all weak, and Kevin was dreaming of real food. Cass did catch a few squirrels with a small pistol stunbolt they had taken from the emergency shelter. The stunbolt’s needle ammo had a short range, and the electric charge it packed wouldn’t kill a person, but it was strong enough for small game. Kevin tried to hunt, but he wasn’t nearly as quiet or patient as Cass, and his aim was poor; he gave up quickly. Nick, with his lousy depth perception, didn’t even bother trying.
That night, long after Nick and Cass had fallen asleep, Kevin lay awake listening to Nick’s heavy breathing that was almost, but not quite, a snore. Kevin couldn’t sleep; he had too many worries running through his mind. What would they do if they never did find the City, or their parents? Would they just live in the woods like wild animals? His legs ached from the day’s walk, but he felt like getting up and running to burn off the crazy energy churning in his head. It was a nearly full moon, so it was a bright night, and he stared at the treetops moving gently in the light wind and tried to calm his thoughts. He replayed the wiring of Tom’s guitar pickup in his head to distract himself, running through all the connections, testing his work to see if he could have been more efficient. But that just made him think of Tom and whether he was still alive or lying dead in the wreckage of the Freepost.
He rolled over onto his side, angry at himself for being awake when he had another long day of hiking ahead of him, and saw a figure creeping carefully and quietly toward their sleeping bags. Kevin’s breath caught in his throat as he bit back a scream. He couldn’t see the person’s face in the night, but it seemed like a man, broad and tall, and he was no more than twenty feet away.
Kevin lay still, pushing down the panic, then sat up, grabbed the lightstrip that was resting nearby, and activated it. He shined it at the man, who flung his arm over his eyes. “Wake up!” Kevin screamed to his siblings.
Nick sat up, groggy and confused. “What’s happening?” he asked.
Cass jumped to her feet, grabbed the small stunbolt, and leveled it at the man, who was still shielding his eyes from Kevin’s lightstrip. The light glinted off something metal in the man’s right hand. Kevin realized, with a sick twist in his stomach, that he was holding a long serrated hunting knife.
Nick and Kevin scrambled out of their sleeping bags, and the man began to step away. “Don’t move!” Cass said. “I’ll shoot you if you run, I swear.”
The man stopped and let his arm drop down to his side. His face was streaked with dirt, and he had a patchy beard and mustache. He had long thin hair, tied back in a ponytail with a piece of rope. One of his ears, Kevin noticed, had a jagged piece missing, like it had been bitten. He was wearing camouflage gear—long pants and a long-sleeved shirt. One of the pant legs had been ripped off at the knee, exposing a dirty calf. The man’s eyes darted wildly from side to side.
“Who are you?” said Nick. “What do you want?”
The man didn’t say anything.
“Why were you sneaking up on us?” said Kevin, making sure to keep the light shining in the man’s eyes.
The man raised his knife and pointed at their backpacks.
“Put the knife down!” said Cass.
The man shook his head. “No,” he said, in a hoarse voice.
“Put it down!” said Nick.
“No,” said the man. He took another step toward them, his knife still held high and flickering with reflected lightstrip glow.
Kevin heard a familiar hiss—the sound of the stunbolt ammo carving through the air—and the man dropped the knife, clutched his chest, and crumpled to the ground. “Burns!” he screamed, his legs kicking uncontrollably. Nick rushed forward and grabbed the knife, then took a few steps back.
“You’ll be fine in a minute,” said Cass, her voice shaky. “The stunbolt won’t kill you.” Kevin looked over at his sister. She held the stunbolt aimed steadily at the man.
After a few moments the man’s legs stopped kicking. He lay on the ground, panting, still clutching his chest. Eventually his breath slowed, and he pushed himself into a sitting position. He held his hands up at his chest, palms facing out. “Wasn’t going to hurt you,” he said slowly. “Supplies. Need supplies.”
“Get your own supplies!” said Kevin.
The man shrugged.
“Where are you from?” asked Nick. “Is there another Freepost nearby?”
“Need supplies,” the man said again. He began to get to his feet.
“Stay sitting!” said Cass. The man looked over at Cass, paused, then stood, continuing to stare at her. “I’ll stand. Don’t shoot again.”
“The Freepost,” repeated Nick, pointing the knife at the man. He spoke slowly and loudly, like he was talking to a child. “Is … there … one … nearby?”
“North,” said the man. “Two days. I visit sometimes, to trade.”
“But you live where?” said Cass.
“Here,” he said. “This forest.”
“Alone?” said Kevin.
The man didn’t answer. Kevin took a closer look at the man, at his ripped clothing and wild beard. He felt a pang of sympathy. How long had he lived out in the wild?
Nick took a step toward the man. “A City,” he said. “Is there a City near here?”
The man stepped back from Nick, his eyes shifting back and forth from the knife Nick held to Cass’s stunbolt. “Bots,” he said. “Stay away from there. Go in, and you don’t come out.”
“We need to know where the City is,” said Nick. When the man didn’t say anything, he added, “We’ll trade. For supplies.”
The man nodded, and took a step toward their packs. “Stop!” said Cass. The man froze.
“We don’t have much,” said Nick. He handed the knife to Kevin and went to the packs. Kevin was surprised by how heavy the knife felt in his hand.
Nick pulled a parka out of his pack. “Waterproof and warm. It’s all we can spare.”
The man nodded. “A day and a half east, cross the river, then half a day south,” he said. He pointed at the parka. “Now.”
Nick balled it up and threw it toward the man. It landed at his feet. He picked it up, inspected it, and slipped it on.
“Now go,” said Cass, still aiming the stunbolt at the man’s chest.
“My knife,” said the man.
“Go!” repeated Cass.
“Wait,” said Kevin. He tossed the knife at the man’s feet. “Now go,” he said.
The man picked up the knife, rubbed it along his thigh to brush off the dirt, then slid it into a sheath at his waist. He looked at Cass and licked his lips.
“Leave us alone,” said Cass. Her hand holding the stunbolt was shaking. “Don’t come back, or I’ll shoot you again, and I’ll keep shooting you until you have a heart attack and die.”
The man stared at Cass, then turned and disappeared into the trees.
TWO DAYS LATER, AFTER CROSSING THE RIVER AND HEADING SOUTH, they still saw no signs of the City. Cass was beginning to worry the man with the knife had given them bad directions or that he had been confused. It was dusk, and they were tired. They sat silently on their sleeping bags on top of a hill and watched the sun set.
As the sky grew darker, the horizon below them began to glow. “What’s that?” said Cass, standing up.
“A whole lot of wattage,” said Kevin. “Like a million lightsticks.”
Cass sucked in a deep breath. That much light could only mean one thing. “The City.”
In the morning they made their way carefully south. The tree cover was getting patchy, and they often found themselves passing over roadways lined by the rubble of collapsed and burned-out buildings. They were expecting the area to be crawling with robots, but except for the rare overhead buzz of a black-winged flyer, everything was strangely quiet.
“Do you think the City will be as bad as they say?” asked Kevin as they walked. Neither Cass nor Nick answered. They had been hearing bonfire stories about the City their whole lives. Soon enough, Cass thought, they would know the truth.
They took turns looking at the City through a pair of binoculars taken from the tent. They had heard a bit from first gens about what cities had been like before the Revolution, even seen pictures in scavenged books, but still … this was an alien world. The buildings nearest the far side of the river were two stories high, identical concrete and glass, and perfect right angles. Off in the distance, taller buildings, built in the same gray concrete, loomed larger with rows and rows of glass windows glittering in the sunlight. “Ten rows,” said Kevin, squinting through the binoculars. “Amazing. Those far buildings are ten rows high.”
“Stories,” said Nick. “Dad called them
stories
.”
“Whatever they’re called, they’re huge,” said Kevin. “Do you think they have those things inside, that lift you from row to row? I’d like to see that tech …”
“Elevators,” said Cass, surprising herself with the vividness of a memory—her mother, cutting vegetables for a salad, handing Cass a carrot to snack on, describing how people used to live in tall buildings without having to climb stairs. Cass had asked where she had lived, with her birth parents, when she was an infant—had she been in a building with an elevator? Her mother had set the knife down, said yes, then given her a quick tight hug before returning to the salad.
Cass nearly dropped the binoculars as two people came out of a doorway, walking down the side of the street. They gestured to each other as they talked, climbing onto strange two-wheeled vehicles and driving off. She found this even more disorienting than the buildings. Why weren’t they trying to get away? There were no bots nearby, no fence locking them into the City …
After another half hour of watching, Kevin stood up from his crouch. “This is boring. I’m starving, and I’m not eating any more damned grass and twigs. Let’s go in.”
“I agree,” said Nick.
Cass was surprised that Nick had agreed with him. “We just walk in?” she said.
“We can’t hide in the woods forever,” said Kevin. “You’ve seen what it’s like in the City—those bots are monitors, not soldiers, and people are walking around, not even paying any attention to them.” Cass nodded; it was true. Only once had they seen a bot, and it was a floating sphere, similar to the scout they had destroyed in the forest, but larger. Kevin went on, picking up speed. “The bots must have some sort of system that tracks the people, that alerts them when someone is making a break for it. I mean, why else is there no wall, no gate? And the people aren’t even trying to leave? It’s the only explanation.” With that, he began to move up the ravine toward the City.
“Wait,” said Nick, grabbing Kevin’s shoulder. “We stash our supplies here. We stick together. We don’t do anything stupid that would attract attention. And this is just a quick recon. It’ll be sunset soon; we get back into the woods before dark to sleep. Got it?”
Kevin shrugged out from Nick’s hand. He set his pack down, pushed it under a bush with his foot, then reached up and broke three large branches, leaving them jutting down at a right angle to mark the location. He began walking in a slow crouch along the ravine, toward the City. Nick and Cass quickly hid their packs, Cass taking a moment to rip out a page from her notebook, fold it up, and tuck it into her back pocket.
“In case we don’t make it back to the packs,” she said to Nick, who was watching her. “Something I need to keep.” They hurried to catch up to their brother.
“THE PATHWAY,” KEVIN WHISPERED TO CASS AS THEY WALKED DOWN THE sidewalk. “It’s so smooth and level. And did you notice the lightstrips lining the path on these poles? And those two-wheeled vehicles, can you believe how quiet and fast they are?”
Cass ignored him. She was overwhelmed by the thick walls of the new construction. Every time a person on one of those two-wheeled vehicles buzzed by, she had to fight the urge to jump away. They sneaked up on her with little warning, a flash of color and a sudden hum in her ear. The City was so strange—noisy, huge, everything smooth and concrete and right angles with no grass or trees—but still, it wasn’t the fortress or torture pit that she had been dreading.
Cass was on edge, waiting for a bot to discover them. A part of her, though, couldn’t help but be excited. They had made it. Her parents might be nearby.
Down the street a door opened, and a woman stepped onto the sidewalk and began walking toward them. Cass froze. “Just keep walking,” whispered Nick. “Be normal.”