Among the Free

Chapter Seven

The hood of the cloak fell back and for the first time Luke could see the face of the person who'd attacked him.

It was the boy who'd ridden out to Chiutza in the jeep with him, the one who'd stolen Luke's cornbread and told him he stank.

"What—" Luke tried to ask, but the boy still had his hand covering Luke's mouth, his fingers holding Luke's jaw shut.

"This is my territory now," the boy said, still whisper ^ ing into Luke's ear. "There's not room here for both of us. You go find some other place."

He shoved Luke away, and Luke sprawled in the dead leaves. He rolled over and looked up at the other boy.

"What are you talking about?" Luke asked. "What do you mean, 'territory'?"

Luke couldn't understand why the boy had attacked him and then shoved him away. He couldn't understand why the boy wasn't grabbing at him and shouting, I found him! Here's the deserter! Officer Houk — over here! Instead, the boy had said, "Do you want to get us both killed?" as if he were in as much trouble as Luke. Why?

"Shh," the boy said, glancing around nervously.

Understanding began to creep over Luke.

"Did you desert too?" Luke whispered.

The color drained from the boy's face.

"Don't say that," the boy hissed. 'At least not if anyone from the Population Police comes back. They left me behind." A crafty look slid over his face. "Of course, if someone from Chiutza asks, maybe I did desert. Just not in front of everyone like you did."

Luke scrambled back up to his feet. He was secretly pleased when the other boy took a step back, like he was afraid of Luke. Luke was taller than the other boy, and Luke had muscles from his months of shoveling horse manure.

"So they left you behind," Luke repeated, trying to put it all together. He couldn't remember seeing the boy after those first few moments in Chiutza. Where had he been when Luke carried the old woman out of her house? Or when Officer Houk handed the gun to Luke?

"Well, yeah," the boy said. "After the villagers killed Officer Houk, do you think the driver waited around to make sure I was all right?"

Luke shook his head, not quite believing what he'd heard.

"What?" Luke said. "You mean, Officer Houk was—"

He broke off as someone opened a door in one of the Chiutzan houses. A girl stepped into the street and poured out a bowl of some sort of liquid. Both Luke and the other boy ducked down and held their breath until the girl went back into the house and shut the door.

"See? You almost gave us away. You have to leave," the boy said.

But this time Luke heard the fake bravado in the boy's voice, the fear and uncertainty trembling just below the surface.

"No," Luke said. "You have to tell me everything you saw."

"Not here," the boy said. "Someone will see us or hear us. And it's too cold."

Luke looked around, frowning, still trying to make sense of the boy's words. After the villagers killed Officer Houk. . Luke saw the boy was beginning to inch away.

"We can talk in that shed over there," Luke said. "We'll whisper."

"The shed's mine!" the boy said, his voice arcing toward hysteria. "You can't have it! It's mine!"

Luke reached out and grabbed the boy's arm, to steady him and stop him from running away. Luke had to know what had happened.

"I don't want to take your shed away," Luke said, trying to make his voice soothing. "I've got my own place to stay. I just want to know what's going on."

"Where's your place?" the boy asked.

"Back there. In the woods," Luke said impatiently.

"Is it warm and dry? Do you have your own food sup-ply?" the boy continued.

"I—" Luke began. His stomach churned, as if on cue. He hadn't thought about food at all since running away from Chiutza. He'd just thought about running and hiding and freedom and Jen. This made him wonder how clearly he'd been thinking all along, how sane any of his plans and actions had been. "Look," he said now, trying to sound calm and reasonable. Trying to be calm and reasonable. "I just want you to tell me what happened in Chiutza after I left. Then I'll leave you alone. I promise."

The other boy was staring at him warily, but when Luke gave a little tug on the boy's arm, he began to move toward the shed.

Twilight had fallen now, with long shadows extending from the woods into the village. It was no challenge for Luke and the other boy to creep along the edge of the woods, confident they were out of any villager's sight. But at the doorway to the shed Luke hesitated, sudden panic overtaking him.

What if this is all a trick? What if the boy was just pretending not to want me in the shed? What if Officer Houk and the driver are waiting there, with the gun? What if they plan to kill me on the spot for running away?

The other boy stepped across the threshold, into darkness.

"Coming?" he whispered, his voice taunting.

This shed's barely bigger than an outhouse, Luke told himself, fighting back the panic. If Officer Houk and the driver were hiding in there, they'd have me by now, no matter what.

Luke stepped in behind the boy and pulled the door shut behind them. Now the shed was completely dark, except for a patch of light on the opposite wall, where a board was broken away.

"This way," the boy muttered. "In case someone comes."

He pulled Luke over behind a pile of burlap grain sacks. The burlap smelled old and moldy, but Luke's stomach still grumbled at the thought of possible food within.

"We have to make a deal," the boy said.

"Huh?" Luke asked, distracted by the grain sacks and the trouble he was having getting his eyes to focus in the dark.

"A deal," the boy repeated. "I have something you want — information. What are you going to give me for it?"

Luke had nothing with him but the clothes on his back. And even those weren't his — they were the standard'issue shirt, pants, and boots that belonged to the Population Police.

"What do you want?" Luke asked, stalling for time.

"Oh, a gourmet meal would be great," the boy said. "That gun you were stupid enough to drop. Maybe a nice comfy bed so I don't have to sleep on burlap tonight?"

Somehow the boy's sarcasm seemed nastier in the dark.

I don't have anything to give you, Luke wanted to say. What would it cost you just to tell me what I want to know for free? But then he remembered the way the boy had grabbed the packet of cornbread before Luke had a chance to touch it, the way the boy had sneered about Luke smelling like horse manure.

"If you tell me what you saw after I ran out of Chiutza," Luke began, "I won't go knock on the door of that house over there. I won't tell them, 'Did you know there's a boy hiding in your shed, eating all your grain?'"

Luke wished so badly that he could see the boy's face, see how he was taking this threat.

"You wouldn't do that," the boy said finally, though his voice sounded thin and worried. "You'd be caught too."

"How do you know I wouldn't do that?" Luke asked. "The villagers saw me refuse to shoot one of their friends. Maybe I think they'd treat me like a hero. Maybe I'm already counting on them feeding me that gourmet meal to celebrate. Maybe I've been on their side all along."

"If you were, you'd know these people don't have any gourmet food/' the other boy sputtered. "They're lucky to have grain, and that's probably not going to last the winter."

"Especially not with you eating it," Luke said, and somehow that came out sounding like the last word.

The boy cleared his throat, nervously. And then he began to talk.