Vagabonds

Chapter Eighteen: P.E.

He led the way, shoving through the bodies cluttered in the entrance hall. Indignant cries filled the air, but they moved like cannonballs through the main building. Behind them, deep voices barked orders, but the words were lost in the chaos that the corridor had become. Eliza ducked her head, pulling Joe down another hall.

"This way," she gasped.

They were scrambling past chemistry labs and dissection rooms. Eliza found herself thinking about the five brothers, the Vagabonds. What would happen if the army found them? Would they end up on some table somewhere, being peeled apart like anesthetized frogs?

Eliza would never let that happen.

They reached an emergency exit, emblazoned with a big red sign that read Alarm Will Sound.

"I've always wanted to see if that sign was lying," Joe panted as Eliza planted one hand on the metal bar and pushed.

A wailing shriek split the air.

Eliza grinned, thinking of all the homerooms spilling out into that central hallway.

That should hold those bastards up, she thought as the two of them tumbled out of the dark building and back into the sun.

"My truck's... over... there," Joe said, struggling to breathe. Eliza snatched his hand and they were off again, ducking through cars and sprinting across hot pavement.

"Come on, come on," Eliza chanted as Joe ripped open his messenger bag, fumbling for his keys, tripping over his own feet and almost crashing to the concrete before Eliza grabbed his arm and hauled him upright.

"Got em!" he shouted, ripping out a jingling keychain.

"Open it!"

Eliza swung herself around the bed of the old-fashioned pick-up, bouncing her knees as she waited for Joe to leap into the high cabin and lean over to unlock her door.

"Go, go, go!" she shouted before she'd even sat down.

The truck started with a cough. It had always been a paradox with Joe, that his parents were as rich as gods but he drove a car that was held together with duct tape and prayers. He said he liked it old-school, but in the third week of the semester Eliza had discovered that Joe paid for the truck himself. For six sunburnt summers he'd worked as a lifeguard to save enough to buy himself a car. Bashfully, he'd admitted that his parents paid the insurance on it. But Eliza had seen the pride in his face when he'd told her about walking into the dealership all by himself and picking out Old Betty.

Right then Eliza found herself wishing that Joe had accepted his parents' offer for a fancy sports car.

Old Betty growled to life, trundling out of the parking lot as fast as Joe could accelerate her. Eliza twisted, glancing over her shoulder through the dirty sliding window.

The two soldiers burst out of the main building. Their cold eyes found the rusty old truck as it pulled onto the road.

Without a word, they spun back, caught the closing door, and disappeared.

"The clearing," Eliza panted, trying to ignore the roaring in her ears. "Go to the clearing we went to on Friday."

"But there's nothing there," Joe said, his eyes frantic as he clutched the wheel.

"They won't be able to see us from the road. We'll lay low for a bit and wait for them to stop looking."

Joe took a shaky breath. Another. His knuckles were white, his eyes fixed dead ahead.

Eliza had never been embarrassed of the things she did. Punching bullies, accepting dares, leaping off cliffs into churning oceans. It had always been just her. Her against the world, her taking risks, her dealing with people who deserved it. Despite what her mother said, Eliza had a code.

And she'd broken it.

"Are you... are you okay?" Eliza asked, shame squirming in her belly.

"Oh yeah," Joe said, his voice strangely high-pitched. "I'm fine. You know, I've never skipped class. Maybe it's something I needed to do before graduating."

"Joe..."

"I mean, the running from the army part wasn't exactly in the plan. And I'd rather not have missed our exam. But maybe it's fate and all that."

"Joe, I'm so sorry," Eliza said.

"So when are you going to tell me what's going on?" Joe glanced at her, eyes enormous. "Before or after they start shooting?"

Eliza sighed as the truck swerved onto the highway, Old Betty whining in protest.

"So that night... on the army base..." Eliza inhaled. "I did see something." Joe's knuckles grew whiter and Eliza stared at them, unable to look at his face. "Something I wasn't supposed to see."

"Of course you did," Joe said in that I-should-have-known voice that her mother sometimes used.

Eliza flinched but forced herself to continue.

"I think they're doing experiments there. There was something... wrong with one of the soldiers. He was strong, but like... insanely strong, throwing people around like they didn't weigh anything."

"Maybe you hit your head falling off the fence."

"I know what I saw," Eliza snapped before catching herself. She clenched her fists in her lap. "Sorry, it's just... I ran. And they chased me. And then..."

Eliza trailed off. How could she make Joe understand? How could she tell him about Aquila? About the Vagabonds? About the wonderful, strange world she'd tumbled into beneath Eckelson's mansion?

Joe swerved the truck off the highway and down the dirt road of Exit Two. He drove all the way into the woods, turning off the truck only when they were both sure they couldn't be seen from the road. In the silence of the deep forest, broken only by the cheerful birds and muttering wind, Joe just stared at the trees, every muscle in his body taut enough to snap.

"And then what, Eliza?"

She winced. Half of her had been hoping he'd lost track of the conversation.  

"And then... I met someone."

"You met someone? What on Earth does that mean? Like, someone someone?"

She inhaled, long and slow.

"Five someones, actually. They're the reason those men are after me. The army wants to find them too."

Joe seemed to deflate, slumping in his seat.

"I'm losing my mind."

"I know how you feel," she said with a wan smile.

"So what now? Where do we go now that we're fugitives?"

The last word came out strangled, filled with all the fear and frustration that Joe was not taking out on her. In that moment, Eliza could have kissed him. He'd done everything she asked, gone along with her mad scheme even though it was so out of character that Joe might as well have followed her into a night club. Like a true friend, Joe had trusted her despite all the reasons not to.

It was time to return the favor.

Eliza curled one hand around his shoulder, ignoring the way he flinched at her touch.

"Now I have some friends I'd like you to meet."