The chaperone, p.21
The Chaperone, page 21
Inside is a piece of yellowed paper.
The flyer from the church office.
* * *
There are words typed on the front, but they’re cut off by a tear on the right side of the paper.
STOP THE MINUTE
Stop the Minute? On the back of the flyer is a handwritten note. I use the light from my watch to read a few lines at a time.
Dear Stella,
If you don’t recognize this, it’s the piece of paper I showed you the night I told you what happened to my sister. I’m giving it to you now because you’re finally ready to know what the flyer said.
Those men who attacked my sister that day in the church office? They were Minutemen, Stella. We were trying to fight them. But we lost.
I flip the flyer over.
STOP THE MINUTE
The Minutemen. STOP THE MINUTEMEN. That’s what it said before it was ripped out of her hand. I turn it over and keep reading.
They got what they wanted. They destroyed us. They formed their own country. And they took our freedom. But the fight isn’t over yet, Stella. We’re still fighting. We never stopped. And we won’t give up until we win. But we need people like you on our side. We need YOU.
If you’re reading this, you probably feel like you can’t go any further. Like you have no fight left in you. But you’re stronger than you know. You have more fight than anyone I’ve ever met. I know you can do this. I know you can be the person you so desperately want to be.
I believe in you, Stella.
She didn’t sign her name. She couldn’t risk it. But I still hear her voice in my head. I believe in you, Stella.
I press the flyer against my chest, lie back on the mattress, and close my eyes.
I need to rest if I’m going to be ready.
CHAPTER 81
The doors of the truck open. How long have I been out? The last thing I remember is reading the note from Sister Laura.
Someone shines a flashlight in my face. It’s so bright I have to cover my eyes.
“Stella?” It’s the old woman. I can’t remember her name. Did I ever know it? Did I memorize it before I left?
“Where are we?”
“Green Spring. A town so small they didn’t bother to stick it with a new name.”
Green Spring. The place where I’m supposed to cross.
“Put this on.” She holds out a pile of clothes. A super tight jog bra, a white T-shirt that say MOUNTAINEERS in green letters, and a pair of running shorts. All of it smells like fabric softener. “Now be quick about it.” She closes one door of the truck for me to change behind.
The shorts are shorter than any I’ve ever worn. I might as well be naked. But I want out of the truck so badly I don’t care. I move to the back and jump to the ground.
She points her water bottle at me. “You ready?”
“I guess.”
“I only got one piece of advice. Whatever you do, don’t hesitate. You can’t afford doubt.”
I want to tell her I’ve hesitated the whole way. I’m hesitating now. “Okay.”
“And Godspeed to ya.”
Godspeed. This is her way of saying she cares. Of course, she does. Why else would she risk her life to help me?
“Thanks,” I say too casually, quickly adding. “I mean it. Really. Thanks for all of your help. Both of you.” I nod toward the front of the truck.
“Can’t let the bastards win, can we?”
A twentysomething man with black hair cropped close to his head and wire glasses walks up.
“Good to see you, Vicki Lee.” He puts a finger to his forehead, and she does the same.
Vicki Lee. That’s her name. And the guy driving is her husband, Vince.
The man is wearing the same shorts and white shirt with green letters that I am.
“I’m Max, Stella.” He must see me staring at his shirt because he points to it. “Our cover. The local university. You ready?”
Whatever you do, don’t hesitate. “Ready.”
Max waves over a group of men wearing the same basic outfit the two of us are wearing. One of them looks only a few years older than I am. The other two appear to be at least seventy. “I’ll let the guys introduce themselves.”
“I’m Irving,” one of the older men says, “and this is my brother Simon. We’re from New Jersey.” They could be twins: both thin and tall with gray curly hair.
“And I’m Michael,” the young guy says. “From Oregon.”
“You’re not all from here?”
“We come from all over the United States. To run with girls like you,” Max says. “I’m from North Carolina.”
“You mean Old America?”
Max lets out a little laugh. “That’s not what it’s really called, Stella. It’s still the good ole U S of A. They only call it ‘Old America’ here. But you’ll learn all that soon enough.”
I’m confused but have a more important question. “Why do you do it?”
“You haven’t heard about us?” Max asks.
“No.” I’m shocked by how much I still have to learn. “Angel only told me what I needed to know.”
“They call us Night Lights.” He gestures toward Vicki Lee and the others. “All of us. We’re the people who get girls out at night.”
A surge of emotion moves through me as I think of all the people who’ve gotten me to this point. Angel. Paul and Ana. Dr. B. Sam. Vicki Lee and Vince. And now this group of men. Max. Irving. Simon. Michael. I had no idea so many people cared about girls like me.
“Shall we?” Max asks.
I nod in response, and before I know what’s happening, we’re going.
We’re running.
CHAPTER 82
We run a mile right down the side of the road, the almost-full moon lighting our way. Just as Angel predicted. When we get to a white No Parking sign, we veer off the roadway. It looks like dark brush, but pretty quickly a path comes into view.
We run in silence another few minutes until Max speaks. “We all think you’re very brave, Stella.” The others murmur their agreement. “Coming all this way by yourself.”
I’m caught off guard but manage a weak “thanks.”
“You must have been trained well.”
“I was.”
It’s true. Sister Laura pushed me. Fighting at State Street. Sitting alone in the library. Running with Dad. My chest tightens when I think of Dad. This will be the third morning I’m not there when he and Mom wake. They’ve slept three nights without me. They must be beside themselves with worry.
“Will my parents find out what really happened?”
Max smiles, but I see the heartbreak in his eyes. “That would be too dangerous.” Max pauses when we come to a clearing, holding us back with one arm while taking a pair of binoculars from his belt. He examines one side of the open field and slowly rotates 180 degrees, taking in the entire area. He touches his forehead. “All clear.”
We run along the perimeter. We were protected by trees before, but now we’re exposed on one side. No one says a word, and I tell myself they know what they’re doing. They’ve done this more than once. But before we reach the other side, we hear it. Only a whisper at first.
Rustling leaves and snapping twigs.
Max stops and holds a hand out while pointing to the ground with the other. “Drop, Stella.”
CHAPTER 83
Max motions for Irving and Simon to drop with me and touches Michael’s arm, pointing to the woods on the other side of the clearing while pulling a pistol out of his belt. “Let’s go.”
The two of them dart straight across the clearing. Seconds later, they disappear into the tree line. My instinct is to follow, but one of the brothers says, “Stay down.”
Before I can respond, shots ring across the clearing in rapid succession.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
The air goes quiet for a drawn-out moment.
And then one more shot splits the darkness.
CHAPTER 84
The three of us look at each other with the same questions in our eyes. Who was shooting? Who got shot? Irving turns from Simon to me. “Wait here, Stella.”
Vicki Lee’s words play in my head. Don’t hesitate. “No.”
He gives me a resigned look. “Fine.”
The three of us jog back around the perimeter, taking cover behind a giant osage when we get to the spot where Max and Michael went in the woods. The area in front of us seems darker than when we were running through the trees just a few minutes ago. My eyes have already adjusted to the moonlight.
Irving’s mouth flattens into a line of determination. He counts down on his fingers—three, two, one—and at the exact same moment, we step from behind the tree and run into the woods.
* * *
We find them less than a thousand feet inside the brush. Michael on the ground, clutching his shoulder like it might fall off if he doesn’t hold it there. Max on his knees, unrolling a bandage.
Simon studies something in the distance. “You got him.”
You got him? I follow Simon’s gaze. Not far in front of us, a guy in a camouflage jumpsuit lies flat on his back, blood leaking all over his stomach. His eyes are open, but nobody’s there.
“You killed him?”
Max lifts Michael’s arm to slide the bandage under it. “I had no choice. He wouldn’t stop shooting.”
I don’t argue, suddenly more horrified by Michael’s shoulder, which is entirely red now. Like he’s wearing a cape of blood.
“You need to keep moving,” Max says to Irving. “Our cover’s blown. There might be more of them. I’ll text backup to meet us at the road.”
Irving points out the obvious. “That’s over a mile away.”
“I’ll get him there.” He sounds certain.
Michael’s eyes start to close.
Max puts his hands on either side of his face. “Stay with me.” Michael’s eyes flash open, and Max turns back to us. “Go now. Before it’s too late.”
CHAPTER 85
The three of us move away from Max and Michael with hesitation, but then we commit, taking off in a sprint. Simon and I follow Irving. We run through the trees at an angle, cutting the corner to the other side of the clearing.
“This way.” Irving leads us down another path.
We run faster than before, making up for lost time. I’m out of breath in a few minutes.
“Slow your breathing, Stella,” Irving says. “Count it out. One, two. One, two.”
I do as he instructs, timing my breaths with the heartbeats in my throat.
A minute later we come around a large maple and nearly run into a deer stand. We all stop without speaking.
Simon moves around the stand. “No one’s here.”
I’m not as confident, inspecting as we pass. It isn’t a minute later when we hear a branch breaking somewhere ahead of us.
We freeze.
And then we hear it again.
* * *
Irving opens his mouth to speak, but Simon shushes him.
We hear more twigs snapping. This is it. This is when it all goes wrong.
Another stick snaps right before the culprit steps right in front of us. A deer big enough to feed my whole block.
Simon drops his head. “It’s just a doe.”
She looks right into my eyes, staring deeply.
Does she know I’m running?
Does she know they’re hunting me?
Her eyes grow bigger. And then, before I can take it all in, she leaps away, effortlessly clearing the growth to our left. I let out the breath I’ve been holding as she scampers away. I’m still watching her when another deer flies across the path in front of us. I cover my mouth to stop from yelling.
When the second one is out of sight, I start to move forward, but Irving holds me back.
Another deer leaps in front of us. And then another. And another. We watch without moving as a half dozen more of them leap past us.
Simon gasps. “My God.”
The way he says God is not in vain. It’s gratitude. An acknowledgment. There are things greater than us in the world.
“We’re lucky.” Irving glances over his shoulder. “This is a good sign.”
And then we’re running.
* * *
I’m not counting my breaths anymore. I’m gasping for air. I come to an abrupt stop.
“We’re almost there, Stella. Just to that curve.” Irving points to a turn a ways ahead of us. “And then it’s all downhill.”
We start running again. When the path curves right, Irving pauses, pulling back a tangle of tall plants in front of us. “This way.” He walks into them. Simon and I follow. The brush is too thick for running. Tree limbs and offshoots slap our faces. We tolerate it until the area clears, the ground sloping down to a wide river.
“Is that—” I ask.
“Yes.” Irving smiles. “That’s it.”
CHAPTER 86
Simon’s next words come out in a whisper. “We made it.”
The two of them pull pistols from their belts, glancing up and down the shoreline like they’re fleeing the scene of a crime.
Irving doesn’t look at me when he speaks again. “You have to hurry. There could be more of them.”
“More deer?”
“No.”
I know what he means. More of the man who shot Michael.
Irving speaks in a hushed voice. “The current’s not bad, but still swifter than I’d like. You’ll have to move fast. Or you’ll get dragged downstream.”
“Where do I go on the other side?”
Simon points across the river. “They’re waiting for you.”
At first, I see nothing, but then a light flashes. Then two more. Their faces come into focus above the lights. Like they’ve been switched on too. Three faces with three sets of wide eyes. Waiting.
Irving looks both ways up and down the bank of the river. “Go now. It’s clear.”
“Thank you so much.”
They tap their heads at the same time.
I tap mine in response and turn back to the water, thinking again of Vicki Lee’s words. Don’t hesitate. This all started in the water, and now it will end the same way. One way or the other. I look right, left, right like I’m crossing the street. Light filters through the trees. The sun is starting to rise.
It’s clear. There’s no reason to wait.
I run down the slope and dive in.
CHAPTER 87
The water here is even chillier than the Barren.
The cold hurts my head, and dizziness quickly overcomes me. I force myself to keep going. I’m so close. The current is stronger too. A lot stronger. I have no sense of how far I have to go. It feels much farther than it looked from the shoreline.
I tire quickly and pause to look for the faces on the other side. When I see their eyes on me, it gives me the will to keep going.
But the next time I look, I can’t find them.
Where are they?
I see something moving in my periphery. One of them up shore, signaling me. I’ve drifted farther than I realized. I force myself to swim harder. I’m almost there.
But I’m swallowing too much water. I pause to catch my breath one more time. I’ve come too far to give up now. I will myself forward, lifting my heavy arms. And then I see it in front of me. The shore. It’s so close I could throw a rock at it. I push myself harder, swinging my arms over my head like a windmill.
I’m five strokes away.
I’m going to make it.
I throw another arm forward, but as soon as I do, my knee slams against something under the water. A sharp pain shoots up my leg.
I pull my knee to my chest, trying to make it stop. But, when I do, I drift farther downstream. If I hold on until the pain is gone, who knows how far off course I’ll be?
I have to keep going. I have to try.
I let go of my knee, the pain rushing back, and do the only thing I can. I finish those last few feet with just my arms, paddling my way to shore like a kid learning to swim.
* * *
I drag myself out of the river and check my knee. Blood streams down my leg. I glance up and down the shore, trying to get my bearings straight.
I’m not safe yet. I could still be shot.
I hear people racing through the trees, thrashing through foliage to get to me. I can’t run—my knee is killing me—but I hobble as fast as I can for cover, propelling myself forward like a wounded animal. When I’m absolutely certain I’m safe, I fall to the ground, exhausted and out of breath.
When I look back, I can’t see the river anymore. I can’t see Irving or Simon either. But I know they’re watching me. I know they witnessed what I did. And then it hits me.
I did it.
I escaped.
PART III
CHAPTER 88
The Jacobs Center smells like paint.
They’re making improvements. A new wing will be finished by spring.
The resistance movement is growing quickly.
A week ago I didn’t know there was a movement. I’ve learned so much in the past nine days I haven’t had time to process it. And that’s only what I’ve gleaned from my host family and the few higher-ups who’ve stopped by to check on me. This is my first official day at the Jacobs Center, the day I start my deprogramming.
I still have a lot to learn. In just over a week, it’s become obvious how much they don’t teach girls in New America. Just because we’re born with another X chromosome. The two teenage girls in my host family—Zoey and Alex—know things about the world I can’t even imagine. Like what photosynthesis is or why climate change means everyone here has solar panels. Or even what a chromosome is. I was horrified to learn extreme temperatures are not natural like they teach us in New America, but something much more harmful.
