The Five Unnecessaries

Chapter 19

Within four hours, we were past the border and in Zone 3. The rest of our escape from the Republic was uneventful. It seemed quiet, even though the streets screamed with activity and movement. The sounds were muted by the shallowness that surrounded them. We had started in the alleys Katerina had memorized. Some other people came by, but we hid against the wall or in the trash until they changed outfits, threw up, or kept walking. The baby had gotten hungry only once.

I was desperate for rest. While in survival mode, I couldn't process what had happened in the subway tunnel. I took some time to write and remember details of our exit that I would need to report in my debrief.

We found our way through the scattered trees, which collected into a full forest on the other side of the fence. I cut through the barrier with my tool kit, then reconnected it once we were across. My movements weren't clumsy and forced like in training. I remembered Collin's words: "You're learning so that this is second nature; when it counts, you'll have it down to an art." I hadn't believed him.

I wanted to tell him he was right about everything. I wanted to rush home, run through the night, or call for an EE.

But the instant we were in the forest, I was struck with familiar scents of pine. There was dirt beneath my feet instead of concrete. My shoes sank into the pillow of earth as the forest floor cradled them. I found a sanctuary there.

By Katerina's tired eyes, she now felt lost in a world much bigger than she had ever known.

We hiked a few miles to an R-station. I pulled the kit from the underground compartment and made camp with the camo tent.

She was asleep in minutes. I got a few hours of sleep before Katerina and the baby woke. After that, any thoughts of the Sentry were interrupted by a thousand questions about the forest as she and I made the three-day hike to the next T-station.

I was now feeling the physical effects of our panicked journey. The soreness I hadn't felt at first was catching up quickly. The last time I had been in this part of the woods, I had been with Eva, Lynn, and Cassidy. It suddenly seemed too quiet without their voices, talking Tech for hours. I couldn't understand half of what they had been saying, but I loved just listening. It reminded me of listening to Sam and Liam ramble on for hours, or Collin talk to himself through EE scenarios. I felt homesick, which meant that Central, after only two months, was already home.

As Katerina and the baby napped that afternoon, I stared at my MCU. Its blank white display stared back at me. I thought back on my discussion with Collin on the morning I'd left for the Republic.

"Write to me when you get back to the forest and it's safe," he had said, sounding more vulnerable than his usual strong-as-rock self.

"What... How do I get it to you? How will you know what I wrote?" I had asked him.

"You'll make it home." His breath had shuddered. "And I'll read everything. Every word."

So, I ignored my weary muscles and wrote, describing Katerina and everything I remembered about her little closet. I wrote about her first reactions to the creek, to fish, and to squirrel. I didn't know what to write about my escape. The Sentry still felt like a secret I wasn't supposed to tell anyone. I wrote about the parts of the story I could tell, and an apology that I couldn't run home to him faster. I didn't want to rush Katerina; she had experienced enough stress for a lifetime.

The next day, Katerina barely spoke. I wondered when she would ask what her new home would be like. With a pang in my heart, I realized it was likely that she rarely spoke to anyone, but I hoped she knew her questions weren't bothering me. Did she even know how to ask about her home? Did she even know what home was? Did she even understand she could ask me that?