Chapter 18

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        IT’S DIFFICULT TO FOCUS ON MY TASKS ON THE DAY of our departure. I pace the house, checking and double-checking the bags Hayley and I have packed and hidden in the closet. They’re full of food, bottles of water, and a few changes of clothes. Hayley will have to carry her own bag, even though hers is just as heavy as mine.

            Today is a Saturday, so Hayley is home. She’s out back tending to the animals, saying goodbye for the last time. It’s difficult to watch—Hayley is absolutely in love with every animal and will have a hard time parting with them all at once.

            I glance at the clock—10:30 AM. Rowan won’t be picking us up till nine at night, when it’s fully dark and easy to slip away unnoticed. I rub my forehead tiredly—there’s no point in standing here doing nothing. I go outside to help Hayley with the farm work for the last time.

            Hayley is squatting next to Jenny the hen, and I feel a jolt of shock as I see fat tears dripping down her cheeks. “Hayley! What’s wrong?” I run to her side.

            “Nothing,” she says, looking embarrassed as she wipes her tears away with her sleeve. “I’m just…a little sad.”

            “Another family will take care of our animals,” I tell her. “They’ll be healthy and happy, just like you will.”

            Suddenly Hayley breaks down and collapses into my arms, sobbing. “I don’t want to leave,” she wails. “I don’t want to run away, but I don’t want Jacklin to take me, either…”

            “She won’t get to you,” I say, stroking her hair soothingly. “I promise.”

            “I know,” Hayley hiccups. “We have to go.”

            “Yeah,” I reply sadly. “Yeah, we do.”

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            It’s 8:55 PM. All the animals are safely tucked away in their coops or stalls, and I sit at the kitchen table with Hayley in my lap, waiting. We both watch the clock, waiting.

            “What if he’s late?” Hayley whispers.

            “He won’t be,” I say. But doubt is creeping into my mind, like the night he met me on the hill—he was late then.

            What if he tricked us? What if he doesn’t come?

            I push the thoughts away and try to focus on the way he looked at me that day when we watched the chick hatch together. He won’t abandon us. He would never.

            We lapse into silence again. We wait. And wait.

            When the clock strikes 9:05, Hayley shifts anxiously in my lap. “I wish he’d hurry.”

            “So do I.”

            It’s 9:10 when there is finally a tap on the door. The back door. Hayley jumps off my lap, and I hurry to unlock it.

            Rowan steps inside, his cheeks flushed from the cold, his hair tousled by the wind. “Good, you two are ready,” he says, grinning.

            “Yeah. Can we go now?” I ask, reaching for my bag.

            “Whoa, slow down. There’s one thing we need to do first.” Rowan swings a large backpack off his shoulder and sets it on the ground. “Remember that night on the hill, when I told you how the Federation implants a tracker into each child?”

            “Yeah…” I trail off, dread twisting my stomach as I realize what this means.

            “It’s to prevent them from being able to just run away—like what we’re doing right now. And you can bet that there’s someone monitoring Hayley at this very moment. They’re probably expecting us to try something.”

            “So you’re saying…you’re saying we have to cut them out?”

            He nods. “Yeah. I’m sorry, but Hayley’s has to come out, too.” He kneels down to meet Hayley’s eyes. “You okay with that, kid? Can you be brave?”

            Hayley nods, her eyes wide and scared. “I…I’ll try.”

            “Good girl.” Rowan stands, and heads over to the kitchen, where the knives are. Each of them is chained to the counter, probably so that kids can’t grab them and use them as murder weapons or something.

            I have to go first. Rowan positions me next to the counter, then cleans my arm with a soapy towel. He washes off the knife, and pulls it through the sharpener a few times, just to make sure it will cut cleanly. I squeeze my eyes shut and grip the counter hard.

            Rowan pinches my arm, and I risk a glance around. He’s holding a small area of skin, and there’s a small bump within it—clearly something is in there.

            “Don’t worry, this will be quick,” he says as he positions the knife. As if that’s supposed to be comforting.

            I bite back a cry of pain as the knife slices into my skin. It’s not deep, but the cold metal and the pain it provides still send nasty shocks through my arm. Rowan starts pinching and squeezing the skin, which hurts even more. I dig my nails into the counter.

            Finally, he steps back. “Okay,” he says, his breathing a little uneven. “Okay, you’re done.”

            I relax, letting my fingers slide from their tight hold on the counter. “What is it?” I gasp.

            Rowan holds up a small, round piece of metal that resembles an oddly shaped marble. “It doesn’t look like much,” Rowan says, “but it’s like a tiny computer inside, sending signals to the capitol building’s monitors.” He hands me a wet cloth and I press it down on the cut in my arm.

            “Your turn, Hayley,” I say. I scoop her into my lap and hold her tight as Rowan cleans her arm and the knife.

            “Just close your eyes,” I whisper in her ear. “It’ll be okay, I promise.”

            When Rowan cuts into her arm, Hayley’s jaw clenches, but she doesn’t scream or cry out. I cringe as her blood trickles freely from the wound, making a steady stream down her arm.

            Rowan removes the tracker within seconds and grabs another cloth for Hayley’s arm. “Wow,” he says, looking at Hayley. “You didn’t make a noise. That was really brave.”

            “I’m so proud of you,” I tell her, releasing her to stand on the floor and helping her clean the cut.

            Rowan stands and places the two removed trackers on the kitchen counter. “If I’ve done this correctly, these trackers should still be completely functional. The Federation will think you’re here the whole night.” He grabs his pack from beside the table, and Hayley and I follow him. “Let’s go,” Rowan says, leading us out the door.

            I usher Hayley after him, then take one last glance around the little house where I’ve spent most of my life. Despite everything, I think I’ll miss the old place.

            Then I blow out the candle and shut the door behind me, imagining my old life on this homestead closing off from me on the other side. There’s nothing left for me here. My heart is with Hayley and Rowan now, no matter where they go.

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