“Of course we’re going back,” I say, wondering if Raffe has somehow overheard Tomas and me discuss our plans to leave. If so, what else did he hear?
Though we have studied together, Raffe is not a friend. Not someone I understand. His actions tonight should elicit my trust, but part of me can’t help wondering if that was the reason he helped me in the first place. Damone had more ambition than brains. It’s not a surprise he would jump to betray a fellow student in order to better his standing. While I didn’t like Damone, I think I understand what lay behind his actions. Raffe is a mystery. I do not want to believe someone would aid in someone’s death just to gain the confidence of another. However, Will’s actions in The Testing proved almost anything is possible if someone wants something badly enough. It’s possible Raffe pushed Damone to his death in order to delve into my secrets. My father once told me to trust no one. I take Tomas’s hand and hold tight. No matter what secrets we had in the past, I know I am right to trust Tomas. Unless I want to return to campus and ignore my chance to help end The Testing, I see no choice for now but to take Raffe with us.
“So are we going to stand here and talk all night, or do what you planned to do?” Raffe asks.
“Let’s go,” I answer.
“No.” Tomas lets go of my hand. “Cia, you can’t trust him.”
Maybe not, but I see no other option. Asking Raffe to give us a moment, I lead Tomas down the street and explain about the airfield and the answers I hope to find there. “The president is going to propose the change in law and ask for a vote soon. We may not have another chance to look for the answers the rebels need. I don’t know if I can live with myself if people die and I didn’t do everything I could to prevent it. Can you?”
I look at the dried blood on my fingers. Maybe if I prevent more deaths, I can live with the one I am responsible for. Maybe Tomas will be able to live with Zandri’s death, too.
Tomas studies Raffe across the darkened street. In the silence, I thin
k of Will and his betrayal during The Testing. Tomas believed he could not be trusted. I insisted Tomas was wrong, and we almost died. I would not blame Tomas for walking away from me now. Instead he pulls me close and says, “No. I couldn’t live with myself either. Let’s go.”
United, we walk back to where Raffe waits with our bicycles. I pull the Transit Communicator out of my bag, turn it on, and tie it to the middle of my handlebars with shoelaces I took out of a pair of boots. Between the Communicator’s compass and the map book, I should be able to get us there and back without getting lost or turned around.
The map showed a number of ways to get to the airfield. My choice is a route two miles longer than the others. A road just beyond the revitalized boundaries of the city. Speed is important, but speed will mean nothing if we are spotted. Three people riding down the city streets in the middle of the night would attract attention.
Raffe says nothing as we pedal to the east. Revitalized streets give way to those abandoned to time. The pavement is bumpy and buckled. Using the dim light of the moon, I steer clear of the most damaged areas and keep riding. Finally, we reach the road that heads to the south. Here the pavement is smooth and in perfect repair. I feel my shoulders tense as I glide along the asphalt. The road’s condition acts as a warning. Pavement is only this well tended if it is important to the United Commonwealth Government. Though I doubt officials would travel in the dead of night, we need to take care.
The glowing display of the Transit Communicator marks our progress. I keep picturing Damone. His lanky body. Angular face. The calculation in his eyes except when he laughed. Laughter transformed him into someone young and carefree. From what he said during the Induction, laughter and fun were not priorities in his family. Success was. Perhaps if he had laughed more, he would not have made the choice to trade my life for his gain. He would not have been a tool for Professor Holt to use against me.
I think of all the lives lost in the Seven Stages of War. Of those who were sent by their leaders into battle and instructed to kill. Did those in charge understand the implications of their orders? Or were they, like Damone, thinking only of what they hoped to gain?
We are less than a mile from our destination when Raffe asks us to stop. “Do you think the two of you can tell me where we’re headed? The only thing this way is the old air force base.”
“That’s where we’re going,” Tomas says.
“Why? You wouldn’t have seen the warning signs during Induction, but Cia did.”
“Someone isn’t paying attention to the signs,” I say. “There are people living inside that fence, and I want to know who.”
Raffe looks like he wants to push for an explanation, but I cut him off by putting my feet on the pedals and going forward. If he doesn’t want to follow, he doesn’t have to. But he does. As we pedal the last mile, I see Tomas and Raffe scanning the horizon, looking for signs of whoever might be living in this unrevitalized area. Off to the east, a howl echoes across the plains. A reminder to keep alert for more than human-made tracks.
I spot the fence a hundred yards south of a bend in the road. We hide our bicycles in a thicket of bushes and listen for sounds that we are not alone. Dried leaves crunch under our feet, and the wind rustles grass and tree branches. Other than that, everything is silent.
Taking a deep breath, I put my hands on the fence and climb. Our feet hit the other side at the same time. Raffe starts forward, but I turn back and scan the fence, looking for a landmark to tell us where we entered. The shadows of twisted trees and scraggly bushes spread across the landscape. Nothing unique marks this spot. Digging into my bag, I pull out the extra shirt I packed and tie it near the top of the chain link. There’s a chance someone will see the fabric and wonder at it, but I would rather take the risk than waste time looking for our entry point later. Between the marker I’ve left and the Communicator’s compass, we should be able to find our way out.
“How did you know to mark the fence like that?” Raffe whispers.
Tomas answers, “It’s what we do in Five Lakes to make sure we can find our way back when we venture outside our colony’s boundaries.”
Raffe nods. “That makes sense. So now what?”
I pull out my penlight and shine it close to the ground. “Now we look for tracks and listen for sounds that will lead to whoever lives here.”
I glance at the watch on my bag. We agree to search for an hour. It isn’t much time, but it’s all we can afford if we want to make it back to the residence before dawn.
I watch the compass and walk with my hand cupped around the penlight’s beam—a trick Zeen taught me to limit the amount of light that can be seen at a distance—but juggling the two is awkward. Especially when the terrain becomes less level as grass and trees give way to broken pavement and collapsed buildings.
“You’ll be able to look for tracks faster if you let me hold that.” Raffe reaches for the Communicator, but Tomas’s hand is there first.
“I think it’s better if I take it.” Tomas looks at the readout and points. “South is this way.”
Raffe jerks at every rustle and snap. It makes it hard to focus as I study the ground. I am about to give up when my light passes over a section of dirt in between broken pavement. The dirt is dry and hard, but recently must have been soft enough to capture the tread of someone’s shoe. The print is faint. Too faint for Raffe to understand what he is seeing. But Tomas does. I spot another shoeprint fifteen feet from the first. Then another. The brown and yellow grasses growing through the pavement are stamped down in a manner that suggests someone has recently traveled this way. But as encouraging as that is, a glance at the watch tells me we will need to start back soon. If so, I will have to accept that this trip and the death that came because of it have been for nothing.