“THEY CAME AND TOOK HER A COUPLE HOURS ago.” Dillon’s voice is still raspy, but his eyes have stopped watering. “I couldn’t stop them.”
“It’s not your fault.”
I want to go to bed and sleep forever. I want to take a hot shower. I want, at least, to have a cold drink. Instead, we are stuffing backpacks with supplies in the dark so we don’t alert any passing soldiers.
“I should’ve run with her. Done something.” Dillon rolls up a T-shirt and shoves it to the bottom of the pack. His shoulders hunch.
In the dim light coming from behind the curtains, he’s a shadow, but I can see him—better than he can see me, I think, and I wonder if this is something else that’s happened to me because of the Contamination. I put my arms around him from behind, pressing my cheek against his back. It takes him a few seconds, but then he turns and hugs me. I can’t make him feel better. He can’t change what happened.
“We’ll get her back,” I say finally. “I got out. I can get back in.”
“And out again? Velvet. No.”
“She’s my sister, Dillon.” I step away from him.
“They’ll catch you!”
“They won’t expect me to go back inside.” I say this with more confidence than I feel.
From outside, I hear shouts and the rough rumble of the truck engines. We don’t have time to argue about this. They might not be tracking me anymore, but how long before Donna realizes where I must’ve gone and sends them directly here? If they came here for Opal, they’ll be here for me any minute.
I shove a few cans into my backpack, then weigh it in my hands. Too heavy. I take out most of the food, leaving only the granola bars and small packages of cookies. I shove in a handful of socks, bandages, tubes of antibiotic ointment, a pair of scissors. A pocketknife from the junk drawer Dillon dumped onto the kitchen table. We need to run, travel light. We can scavenge along the way, if we have to. Right now all I can think about is getting to Opal.
I can’t think about my parents.
Take care of your sister, I hear my mom say, and though it kills me, I know I have to think of Opal first. My parents, later. They would expect it of me.
Dillon steps in front of me as he shrugs into his backpack. “Velvet, stop. Listen to me. There’s a supply train leaving Lebanon at dawn. I know about it because Mario, that guy I told you about, got switched to a different route. Now he’s doing pickup at the unloading docks for the supply station. The one where the trains drop off stuff. He’s taking his family and they’re getting out on that train, heading for a green zone. Raven says there are people waiting there to take us in.”
“Us?”
“People escaping from the black zones.”
“Is it safe? Of course it’s not safe.” Before he can answer, I shake my head with a laugh. Stupid. It’s not like we can buy a ticket and reserve a seat. Still—“We have to be on that train, Dillon.”
“We’ll never make it.”
I grab him by both arms and turn him into the sliver of light coming from outside so he can see me, my face, how serious I am. “We’ll make it.”
Dillon can’t keep up with me, and I have to shorten my strides. His pack is heavier, because he insisted he could carry more. I don’t want to embarrass him, but when his breath starts rasping in his lungs and he falls behind as we duck through the backyards, I finally turn to him.
“Switch with me.”
“No—”
“I’m strong,” I tell him. “I’ve been doing nothing but running, jumping, and lifting stuff for weeks. Plus, I’m … well, I’m strong, Dillon.”
I want him to understand, but how can he when I barely understand myself? And I don’t want him to be afraid of me. Dillon bends, hands on his knees.
At that moment, a ray of white light sweeps the yard. I’m on my knees a second after that, pulling him down beside me. We both hit the ground, our faces pressed into the dirt. I’m glad for the leather coat and gloves Ellen lent me, but all Dillon has on is a denim shirt and jeans.
The light sweeps back and forth. The truck moves on. We, I think, are so going to get caught.
I wait a minute or so before I sit up. I’m trying to gauge by the light in the sky how close we are to dawn, and what that means, exactly. Five a.m.? Six a.m.?
“Did he say the train left at a specific time, or just at dawn?”
“Just at dawn, but I’m sure there’s a schedule.”
I peek through the bushes. The trucks have gone around the bend, leaving behind the stink of exhaust. I sit back on my heels.
“Can you run again? We have another couple miles to go before we get to the Sanitarium. How far is it from the train station? Do you know?”
“The train station is behind the old YMCA, across the street. They converted all those old factory buildings into storage and offices.”
“A few miles?” I try to calculate how far, but I can’t. I can run and jump and lift heavy things, but the calculation of distance escapes me.
Dillon pulls me close. “This is crazy. You know that? You’re going back in there. Get Opal out. And get to the train by dawn?”
“Yes.” It’s the only answer I know to give.
Incredibly, Dillon grins. He kisses me. We don’t have time for this, but I let him, because suddenly I want to cling to him and never let go.
“Hey,” he says. “Shhh. Hey, Velvet, don’t cry.”
“There was so much blood.”
Dillon holds me tighter. “We’re going to get through this. Together.”
I hold on to him like I’m drowning and he’s pulling me out of the water. A year ago, I didn’t know him, and since then I’ve married and lived with him, I’ve made him my family. He’s made me laugh, he’s helped me survive.
“I love you,” I tell him, and can’t believe I never told him this before.
“I love you, too.” He laughs and pulls me close for a kiss. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
We stare at each other with dirty faces and the sound of trucks and soldiers roaming the streets looking for us. I link my fingers with his, squeezing. Everything hurts, even the breath I draw in.
“What if I can’t do it? I’m so tired,” I say. He was right before. This is an impossible task. Get there, get Opal, get out, get to the train. All without getting caught. All in the space of a few hours. Dillon frowns. “You can do this. You’re right; the last thing they’ll expect you to do is go back. And you are strong, Velvet. You’re the strongest girl I’ve ever met. But you don’t have to do this alone, remember that.”
It feels so good not to be alone. But as I move, my arms and legs are practically screaming with weariness and the built-up agony of everything I’ve put my body through. It’s like someone flipped a switch inside me, and I’ve gone from being made of titanium to aluminum foil.
Another rumble reaches my ears, different from the army trucks’. At first, I think it’s a tank, and my stomach sinks, but then Dillon’s looking through the hedge. I try to pull him back, to keep him from giving us away, but he turns to me with a grin.
“I know how we’re going to do it. We’ll get in and out and away, and nobody will even notice us at all.”
I’m so tired, I can’t tell if he’s making any sense. “How?”
“Garbage truck,” he says. “Nobody ever pays attention to the garbage trucks.”