All that is Darkness

CHAPTER SIX: ON THE RUN

In the time I lived in Pau'Launni, Martine and I explored practically every nook and cranny of the town and the surrounding countryside. Of course, I had ulterior motives on those excursions, using them to discover shortcuts and hideouts and any number of viable escape routes. I showed them to Mom and we memorized them all and worked out a plan for each of them. It was a practice that was so second nature to me that even when I went to Coral Beach I subconsciously mapped out places of concealment and the multiple pathways that could be taken to flee any potential pursuer.

Now I followed the map of Pau'Launni I'd drafted in my head, doing all the things Mom had taught me to do. The first was to shed my school uniform. On the outskirts of town I found a secluded spot in the bushes and changed into a pair of dark gray cotton trousers and a black tee shirt I carried with me in the bottom of my school bag. I substituted canvas sneakers for my Mary Janes and topped off my ensemble with a ball cap that I tucked my hair under so that from a distance I might be mistaken for a boy. After stuffing my discarded uniform and shoes into the bag with my books and burying the lot, I took off for the first rendezvous point, running as fast as I could, sticking to the shadows and avoiding the busy parts of town.

A large catchment tank stood on the outskirts of Northside, easily seen from almost anywhere in town, and I made a beeline for it, keeping to side roads and maintaining a watchful eye for anyone suspicious. When I reached the tank and searched the perimeter, I found no sign of Mom or any indication she'd been there. I told myself it was okay, that she'd be here soon; I just had to be patient and wait. That wasn't easy, knowing there were people out there hunting us and that they might already have captured Mom.

I checked my watch: it was close to 6 PM. Nearly two hours since I'd seen the smoke. I'd wait another hour, then I'd leave a sign that I'd been here and move to the next rendezvous point. And if she didn't show up at that one, I'd go onto the next. I'd keep doing that, but if she failed to show at any of them I was to assume the worst and go to where we'd concealed our cache of emergency money, IDs, and coupons. Once I'd retrieved that, I was to phone Uncle Jim. But if for some reason that didn't work, then I was to board a bus the next morning and get out of town. The important thing was to keep on the move until I could get help.

I kept telling myself I could do this, that I had to, that I'd no choice, but that didn't make it any easier.

The thought that Mom might not show terrified me. I'd never been without her when we'd had to bail in the past, and I kept wondering how on earth I could hope to outwit these people if she hadn't managed to. No matter how hard we tried, somehow they always seemed to find us. Mom said they were smart and determined and had lots of money and connections. Powerful people. People even the president couldn't touch.

It was hard to imagine. Harder still to believe. Everyone in Haven grew up with the idea that the government worked for us, that even the president was a servant of the people. All the people—not just a handful of rich and elite. It was sobering to realize that was more myth than reality.

Mom once told me the hardest lessons aren't the ones you learn in school; they're the ones that come from simply living life.

In my twelve years, I'd done a lot of living and learning.

****

"This is Section One, report your status."

I stood in the phone booth, listening to the woman on the other end of the line, her voice toneless and mechanical, void of emotion. It wasn't what I'd anticipated; I had thought it would be Uncle Jim.