Among the Enemy Read online

  Did Percy and Alia worry about the worst possibilities as much as he did?

  Hoping to clear his mind, Matthias stood halfway up, his hands searching higher and higher on the wooden wall behind him. He thought it was still dark enough that none of the Population Police would see him. He looked out over the truckload of huddled children, most of them too exhausted and terrified even to whimper now. Through the cracks in the wood, he could see the lights of the other trucks. How many? Four, five, six? All carrying dozens of children—where? And why?

  “The little ones won’t last a week in the work camp,” the one Population Police officer had said.

  Matthias’s search became even more frantic. He dared to reach higher. He was rewarded with a sudden pain in his hand.

  “Ow,” he moaned, and pulled his hand back to rub the new wound, which was already bleeding.

  “What is it?” Percy asked.

  “There’s a nail sticking out. I cut my hand,” Matthias said.

  A nail . . .

  Matthias forgot his pain and reached up again, a little more cautiously. The point of the nail was facing him, so he had to put his hand out through the crack and work the nail out from the other side. He was scared it was stuck in the wood too tightly, scared he’d drop it even if he managed to pull it out. But a few seconds later, he crouched down holding the rusty, bent nail like a great treasure. It was a great treasure. A gift.

  Thank you, God, he whispered silently, an old habit he’d learned from Samuel. The old man had believed everything good was a gift, and Matthias could remember him giving prayers of thanks for lukewarm cups of tea, wilted sprigs of flowers, even floods when they didn’t reach the heights of previous years.

  “Got it?” Percy asked. “Help Alia first.”

  Matthias turned and began sawing away at Alia’s seat belt with the point of the nail. His muscles began to ache before he’d cut through even two or three threads, but he kept trying.

  “Get some sleep,” he told Percy and Alia. “This is going to take a while.”

  Obediently, the other two hunched over and seemed to slip instantly into unconsciousness. As far as Matthias could tell, all the other children were asleep now too. He felt alone, just him and his rusty nail moving back and forth, back and forth.

  Matthias couldn’t have said how many hours it took him to completely sever the seat belt holding Alia in place. But when he was done, he rewarded himself by rising to his knees, stretching his cramped muscles. Through the crack in the wooden wall, he could see the first glimmers of dawn on the horizon.

  “Not much time left,” he muttered to himself. He clutched the nail again and began attacking Percy’s seat belt with renewed vigor. The three of them would need the cover of darkness if they planned to jump off the back of the truck. Matthias had a picture in his mind of exactly how their escape should go: As soon as they were all free of the seat belts, they’d move to the very back of the truck. None of the children they stepped over would wake up. Then, when the truck slowed down going around a curve—or, better yet, came to a stop at a road sign—Alia, Percy, and Matthias would roll off into the shadows. Easy as breathing, as Samuel used to say.

  Tears stung at Matthias’s eyes, but he wouldn’t have been able to say whether they were from missing Samuel or from exhaustion and fear—fear that they’d reach the work camp before he cut through Percy’s seat belt, fear that the sun would come up too soon, fear that he’d fail Percy and Alia once again. Frantically, he brushed the tears away and went back to scraping the nail against the fabric. Harder, faster, harder, faster . . .

  Percy woke up.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, as calm as ever.

  “Sun’s coming up, and this stupid nail—I think I could chew the belt off faster,” Matthias muttered.

  “Let me try,” Percy said.

  Matthias handed over the nail, though his hand was too stiff to unclench completely.

  Percy began sliding the nail against the belt in slow, deliberate slices. Matthias couldn’t stand it. He peered out through the cracks in the wooden wall again. He couldn’t gauge the position of the sun now because they were driving through what appeared to be a clump of trees. Then they rounded a curve into a brief clearing, and suddenly Matthias could see far down the road, into a valley ahead. What he saw terrified him even more than the rising sun.

  “Percy!” he muttered urgently. “What’s a work camp look like?”

  Percy looked up.

  “How am I supposed to know?” he asked.

  “Lots of lights, high fences, guardhouses everywhere?” Matthias asked.

  “Sounds more like a prison, but—yeah, maybe,” Percy replied.

  “Then we’re almost there!” Matthias hissed.

  Percy’s answer was to bend back over the nail, pressing down harder but moving no faster.

  “Percy, that’s no good. There’s no time.”

  Percy didn’t answer right away. Matthias had to bend in low to hear him say, “Take Alia, then. You two escape. Forget me.”

  “No,” Matthias moaned.

  The truck slowed down, navigating another curve. A missed opportunity, Matthias thought. The truck was virtually at a standstill. But he couldn’t leave Percy behind. He couldn’t. In a panic, he grabbed the nail from Percy’s hand.

  “What—?” Percy started to ask.

  There wasn’t time to explain. Matthias crawled away from Percy and plunged his arm down through the hole in the floor, plunged the nail into the slow-moving tire below.

  At first nothing happened, and Matthias had time to agonize: How could he have been so stupid and impulsive? How could he have thrown away the nail, Percy’s only chance?

  Then, as the truck sped up again, there was a noise like a gunshot below them. Matthias had been hoping for just a flat tire, a slow leak that would buy them extra time. But the tire had blown out instead, bursting into shreds beneath them. The truck tilted crazily and veered off the road, as if the driver was struggling to regain control.

  “Hold on!” Matthias yelled.

  The truck crashed into the trees lining the road and came to a sudden stop in an explosion of breaking glass and smashing steel. It sounded like the truck had hit a wall. It sounded like the end of the world.

  Then Matthias looked up and saw a huge tree falling straight toward them.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The tree hit with an earth-shattering thud. The entire truck seemed to shudder to pieces. An avalanche of leaves and twigs rained down on Matthias, but miraculously, he felt no large branches strike his body.

  “Percy?” he whispered into the darkness.

  “I’m here,” Percy whispered back. “Look.”

  It was a useless command. The enormous tree that now covered them blocked out all light. But Matthias reached out in the direction of Percy’s voice, and he felt what Percy was holding out to him: It was the metal clasp of Percy’s seat belt, surrounded by jagged wood. The falling tree had shattered the wood wall. Percy was free now too.

  “Thank God,” Matthias murmured. “Let’s get Alia and go. Alia?”

  No answer.

  “Alia?” Matthias said louder, and reached out to the other side, to where Alia had been sitting. His fingers dug through leaves, more leaves, and prickly twigs. And then a branch too large to shove aside.

  Cold fear seemed to crawl along every nerve in his body. He reached under the branch, brushing the floor of the truck bed. The floor seemed to be covered with some sort of sticky liquid now.

  Dew, he tried to tell himself. Dew or sap. Tree sap is sticky, isn’t it?

  But he knew what the liquid really was. Blood.

  “Alia?” he cried again, his voice coming out in a hoarse gasp.

  Someone moaned on the other side of the branch.

  Matthias dived over the branch. Mercifully, Alia was right there. He scooped her up into his arms.

  “We’ve got to go, Alia,” he muttered. “Now.”

  Her head flopped l
oosely against his shoulder.

  She’s breathing, Matthias told himself. I know she is. I heard her moan. She must still be alive. He took the time to wrap his hand around her wrist. Her pulse beat against his fingers. Faintly.

  “Come on, Percy,” Matthias commanded, panic making his voice raspy. “I found Alia. Follow me.”

  Percy put one hand on Matthias’s shoulder, and the two of them fought their way through the branches. Sometimes they had to shove other children out of their way too. Sometimes the children moaned or complained: “Ouch! You stepped on my fingers!” Some of the children were crying or screaming: “Help me! Help me!” “My leg!” “My arm!” “I’m trapped!” The voices wove together into one roaring tide of pain and fear, until Matthias could no longer make out the individual words.

  Some of the children were silent. Somehow that was worse.

  Matthias tried not to think about what that meant. He focused on moving forward, lifting Alia over the branches, protecting her from the twigs that threatened to snag her nightgown and scratch her skin. He ignored his aching muscles, his straining back, anything that might distract him from his escape.

  Finally he reached the back edge of the truck bed.

  “You go first. I’ll hand Alia down to you,” he whispered over his shoulder to Percy.

  Percy slipped past Matthias, shimmying down to the ground. Stiffly, Matthias knelt down and lowered Alia into Percy’s arms. Alia was all skin and bones, a wisp of a child, but Percy still staggered under her weight. Matthias jumped down, and Percy handed Alia back to him.

  “Into the woods?” Percy asked.

  Matthias didn’t have enough energy to answer, but it didn’t matter. He and Percy were already stumbling into the underbrush. Matthias was so exhausted that his legs seemed to be moving of their own will. Branches lashed against his face, but he barely noticed. As long as they didn’t hurt Alia, he didn’t care.

  “Matthias?” Percy said after some time had passed. “Matthias? I don’t think anyone followed us. We’re safe now. We can stop and rest.”

  Matthias sank to his knees, still cradling Alia’s body against his chest. The woods around him were light now; the sun had risen fully while Matthias wasn’t looking, wasn’t thinking, wasn’t conscious of anything except the need to hold on to Alia and move forward. Only now did he finally dare to look down at Alia’s face.

  She had an open wound at her right temple, and blood matted in her hair. Her skin was so pale, it frightened him.

  “Why won’t she wake up?” he asked Percy. “What if—?” He forced the words out. “What if she dies?”

  “She won’t,” Percy said fiercely. “We’ll find someone to help.”

  Matthias began struggling to get back on his feet, but his legs felt useless now, his arms could no longer lift Alia.

  “Stop it,” Percy said. “You’re too tired. You’ll drop her, and that will be worse. Get some sleep and we’ll walk more later. I’ll watch over Alia.”

  Matthias wanted to protest, to tell Percy, No, let’s keep going. But his eyes were already closing, his mind already slipping into a nightmare.

  If Alia dies, he thought, with his last burst of consciousness, it will be my fault.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  When Matthias woke up, hours later, Percy was crouched beside him, staring off into space. Matthias would have expected Percy to say, Good morning, or Feeling better? or, best of all, Alia’s going to be all right.

  Instead, Percy blinked once and said in a flat voice, “Samuel would have stopped and helped those other kids.”

  Matthias felt as though Percy had stabbed him right through the heart. Of course Samuel would have helped the other kids injured by the falling tree—the kids injured because of Matthias plunging the nail into the tire. Even if it meant getting caught himself, Samuel would have tended their wounds, stroked their brows, comforted them. Even if they were going to die anyway, he would have stayed by their side until the very end.

  Oh, dear Lord, Matthias prayed. Did some of those kids die because of me?

  “We could go back,” he said without much hope.

  Percy shook his head.

  “There were other trucks, remember? I’m sure the other drivers came back. It’s too late now.”

  Matthias winced. Those words hurt too. Too late, too late . . . He’d made a decision in a split second, when he wasn’t thinking of anyone but himself and Percy and Alia. His aching hand clenched, like he was still holding the nail, still had a chance to make a different decision. A decision that wouldn’t leave any innocent children dead.

  But it was too late.

  “And Alia?” he whispered. “Is she—?”

  “She’s still sleeping,” Percy said, pointing.

  Matthias raised himself on one elbow so he could see the little girl, lying flat on her back on a bed of leaves nearby.

  “She’s unconscious,” he corrected Percy.

  “Same thing,” Percy said.

  “No.” Matthias shook his head. Why didn’t Percy understand? Sleep was what healthy children did when they were tired. Unconscious was someone sick, someone on the verge of death.

  “I washed her wounds,” Percy said. “I tore off a piece of her nightgown for a bandage for her head. I made sure it was a clean part of the nightgown.”

  Like that’s going to matter, Matthias thought.

  Percy was looking at Matthias strangely.

  “I don’t think any of the Population Police saw us escape,” Percy said. “No one followed us. I found a stream with clear water and a tree that had all sorts of nuts underneath it. It wasn’t hard to get them open with a rock. So we have food.”

  Matthias knew what Percy was doing. This was a game that Samuel had taught them. When times were bad, they always recited all the good things they could think of. Matthias was supposed to add to the list, then finish with, And God loves us. But the only good thing that Matthias could think of was, Alia’s not dead yet. And that was a blessing with a curse hidden inside it. “Not dead yet” just meant that the full weight of Matthias’s pain and grief was lurking a little ways ahead.

  He stood up abruptly.

  “We should start walking,” he said. “We’ve wasted too much time already.”

  “All right,” Percy said. “Where do you think we should go?”

  But Matthias hadn’t thought about a destination. He just wanted to move, to get away.

  Percy had everything figured out anyway.

  “I thought about it while you and Alia were sleeping,” he said. “I think we should go to Mr. Hendricks. He’s got that separate cottage—even if the Population Police raided his school when they raided Niedler, maybe they didn’t catch him.”

  Mr. Hendricks was the headmaster of a school that Percy, Matthias, and Alia had visited, but not attended, before they went to Niedler. And Mr. Hendricks was friends with Mr. Talbot, the man who’d saved them the first time they’d been captured by the Population Police. He’d been with them at Hendricks School too. Matthias remembered their time with Mr. Hendricks as a joyous vacation. It’d been the first time he’d felt truly happy after Samuel’s death.

  That was before I became a murderer, he thought.

  “Well?” Percy asked, and Matthias had to squint at him, trying to remember what they’d been talking about. “Should we go to Mr. Hendricks, or do you have a better plan?”

  Matthias shrugged. “That’s fine,” he said.

  He bent over and picked up Alia, and the strain on his muscles felt good. He deserved the pain in his arms, the ache in his back. He deserved worse.

  Behind him, he heard Percy mumble an end to the List of Good Things game: “We’re alive. We’re together. And God loves us.”

  Matthias started walking as quickly as he could so Percy wouldn’t see the tears streaming down his face.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Later Matthias would remember very little about that day of walking. He and Percy were city boys used to darting through crow
ds, navigating by the cracks in the pavement, surviving on other people’s garbage. But they’d once had to spend several days in a wilderness, and that experience was evidently enough to help them move easily through this woods. Matthias sidestepped the poison ivy without even thinking about it; he ducked under low-hanging branches without breaking his stride.

  That, at least, was good, because his mind was elsewhere.

  Don’t think about the truck, he kept telling himself. Don’t think about the other children. You are rescuing Alia. You are taking her to safety.

  His arms went numb from carrying her, but he refused to take breaks, he refused to let Percy try to carry her. He wasn’t sure exactly how far it would be to Mr. Hendricks’s house, but he didn’t intend to stop until he got there.

  Percy had other ideas. As dusk fell over the woods, Percy asked, “Are you looking for shelter for the night yet?”

  “Shelter?” Matthias repeated stupidly.

  “If we can’t find a hut or a shed, a cave would do. We’ve got to find someplace before it’s too dark for walking.”

  Matthias’s brain seemed to have gone as numb as his arms. He’d forgotten about darkness, forgotten they had no candles or lamps or flashlights. But he didn’t like Percy’s notion of huts or sheds, places where people would be—people who might turn them in to the Population Police.

  “We slept outside before. With Nina,” Matthias said. Nina was a friend of theirs who’d been with them during their other outdoors experience, when they’d been escaping from a Population Police prison. In the beginning, Matthias hadn’t known whether or not he could trust Nina. He hadn’t known if she was good or bad.

  Am I good or bad? Now that I’ve done something awful too. . . .

  He flinched, as if he could physically move away from that question. He forced himself to focus on what Percy was saying.

  “—was summertime before. It was warm enough to sleep outside then. Remember how Nina complained about the heat? It’s November now, and it’s been getting colder all day long. . . . I don’t know, but it almost feels like it might snow tonight. And Alia’s just wearing that nightgown. . . .”