Still, Connor doesn’t like that judgmental look in Lev’s eyes. “How do we know you won’t run?”
“You don’t, but until you untie me, I’m a hostage,” Lev says. “Once I’m free, I’m a fugitive, like you. Tied up, I’m the enemy. Cut loose, I’m a friend.”
“If you don’t run,” says Connor.
Risa impatiently begins untying the vines. “Unless we want to leave him here, we’ll have to take that chance.” Connor kneels to help, and in a few moments, Lev is free. He stands and stretches, rubbing his shoulder where the tranq bullet had hit him. Lev’s eyes are still blue ice and hard for Connor to read, but he’s not running.
8. Risa
Risa finds herself unsettled by the food wrappers and broken bits of plastic they start coming across in the woods, because the first sign of civilization is always trash. Civilization means people who could recognize them if their faces have been smeared on the newsnet.
Risa knows that staying completely clear of human contact is an impossibility. She has no illusion about their chances, or their ability to remain unseen. As much as they need to remain anonymous, they cannot get by entirely alone. They need the help of others.
“No, we don’t,” Connor is quick to argue as the signs of civilization grow around them. It’s not just trash now, but the mossy remnants of a knee-high stone wall, and the rusty remains of an old electrical tower from the days when electricity was transmitted by wires. “We don’t need anyone. We’ll take what we need.”
Risa sighs, trying to hold together a patience that has already worn through.
“I’m sure you’re very good at stealing, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
Connor appears insulted by the insinuation. “What do you think—people are just going to give us food and whatever else we need out of the goodness of their hearts?”
“No,” says Risa, “but if we’re clever about it instead of rushing into this blind, we’ll have a better chance.”
Her words or maybe just her intentionally condescending tone makes Connor storm off.
Risa notices Lev watching the argument from a distance.
“Don’t you walk away from me!” she growls at Connor, doing her best to keep the argument alive, all the while keeping an eye on Lev to see if he bolts. “I’m still talking to you!”
Connor turns toward her. “Who says I have to listen?”
“You would if you had half a brain, but obviously you don’t!”
Connor moves closer until he’s deeper into her airspace than she likes anyone to get. “If it wasn’t for me you’d be on your way to harvest camp!” he says.
Risa raises a hand to push him back, but his hand shoots up faster, and he grabs her wrist before she can shove him. This is the moment Risa realizes she’s gone too far. What does she really know about this boy? He was going to be unwound.
Maybe there’s a reason for it. Maybe a good reason.
Risa is careful not to struggle because struggling gives him the advantage.
She lets her tone of voice convey all the weight. “Let go of me.”
“Why? Exactly what do you think I’ll do to you?”
“This is the second time you’ve touched me without permission,” Risa says.
Still, he does not let go—yet she does notice his grip isn’t all that threatening. It isn’t tight, it’s loose. It isn’t rough, it’s gentle. She could easily pull out of it with a simple flick of her wrist. So why doesn’t she?
Risa knows he’s doing this to make a point, but what the point is, Risa isn’t sure. Is he warning her that he can hurt her if he wants to? Or maybe his message is in the gentle nature of his grip—a way of saying he’s not the hurting type.
She looks at his knee. A well-placed kick could break his kneecap.
“I could take you out in a second,” she threatens.
If he’s concerned, he doesn’t show it. “I know.”
Somehow he also knows that she won’t do it—that the first time was just a reflex. If she were to hurt him a second time, though, it would be a conscious act. It would be by choice.
“Step off,” she says. Her voice now lacks the force it had only moments before.
This time he listens and lets go, moving back to a respectable distance. They both could have hurt one another, but neither of them did. Risa isn’t quite sure what that means, all she knows is that she feels angry at him for such a mixture of reasons, she can’t sort them out.
Then suddenly a voice calls to them from the right. “This is very entertaining and all, but I don’t think fighting is going to help much.”
It’s Lev—and Risa realizes that her little ruse has backfired. She had set out to test him with a fake argument but the argument turned real, and in the process she completely forgot about Lev. He could have taken off, and they would not have known until he was long gone.
Risa throws Connor an evil look for good measure and the three of them continue on. It isn’t until ten minutes later, when Lev goes off to relieve himself in private, that Connor talks to Risa again.
“Good one,” Connor says. “It worked.”
“What?”
Connor leans closer and whispers, “The argument. You put it on to see if Lev would run when we weren’t paying attention, right?”
Risa is bowled over. “You knew that?”
Connor looks at her, a bit amused. “Well . . . yeah.”
If Risa felt uncertain about him before, it’s even worse now. She has no idea what to think. “So . . . everything that happened back there was all a show?”
Now it’s Connor’s turn to be unsure. “I guess. Sort of. Wasn’t it?”
Risa has to hold back a smile. Suddenly she’s feeling strangely at ease with Connor. She marvels at how that could be. If their argument had been entirely real, she’d be on her guard against him. If it had been entirely a show she’d be on guard too, because if he could lie so convincingly, she’d never be able to trust him. But this was a mixture of both. It was real, it was pretend, and that combination made it all right—it made it safe, like performing death-defying acrobatic tricks above a safety net.
She holds on to that unexpected feeling as the two of them catch up with Lev, and move toward the frightening prospect of civilization.
Part Two
Storked
“You can’t change laws without first changing human nature.”
“You can’t change human nature without first changing the law.”
