Among the Enemy

It took Matthias a few minutes to realize that no one was shooting at him and Alia, that all the bullets were whizzing and zinging farther down the hill.

'Percy,' he breathed out, in a way that might have been a prayer.

He dared to raise his head to peer over the log. From this vantage point, he could see a cabin's roof and a swath of empty road. At first it seemed that the gunfire was com' ing out of nowhere — phantom guns firing phantom ' bullets, maybe. But then he saw a rustle of movement on the opposite side of the road. In the uncertain light of dusk, he could make out men in dark uniforms. Population Police uniforms.

They sent that many men after us, with guns? For unarmed children? he wondered.

But — he squirmed around to get a better view — the Population Police weren't aiming their guns even in the direction where Percy had been standing. They were shooting at the cabin.

And someone inside was shooting back at them.

Not Percy, Matthias told himself. When the gunfire had started, Percy's voice had come from a closer spot than the cabin. And, as far as Matthias knew, Percy had never touched a gun in his life. Even if he'd found a gun in the cabin, Percy wouldn't have picked it up and started shooting.

Oh, please, let that not he Percy, Matthias prayed. He could tell: Whoever was in the cabin didn't have a chance against the Population Police.

He was so desperate to find Percy that he raised his head even higher, so he could scan the entire hillside. In the failing light, everything was in shadows, but if Matthias peered hard enough, maybe—

The sound of gunfire stopped suddenly. Matthias froze, his ears still ringing. Down below, the Population Police officers swarmed across the road, surrounding the cabin. Matthias ducked his head down behind the log again, but he kept peeking out. He heard a splintering sound that probably meant the officers had kicked in the cabin door. Then they began dragging out dead bodies. One, two, three, four, five. . How many people had been crowded into that small cabin? The bodies kept coming. Matthias couldn't see all of them, but as far as he could tell, none of them was Percy.

Matthias's ears were recovering a little, enough that he could catch snatches of the Population Police officials' conversation.

'Seventeen rebels, just as our informant said,' a harsh voice said.

'Fools.'

Matthias could see the man who said that. He seemed to be leaning over one of the bodies, the way someone might lean over and kiss a child's forehead.

This man spat on the dead body instead.

'What do we do with them now?' somebody asked. 'Carry them back with us?'

'Are you kidding? Don't you remember how far we had to hike to get here? I'm not carrying any corpse five miles in the dark.'

'What's wrong? Scared of ghosts?' someone teased.

'Scared of getting blood on my uniform. Tell me again why we didn't just drive here?'

'The element of surprise was necessary,' a steely voice said. It must have belonged to the group's leader, because everyone else fell silent. 'Here's what we do. Take their I.D. cards, then pile these bodies by the side of the road. Then somebody — you, Sanders — make a sign. We want everyone who comes by here to see what happens to rebels.'

'What should the sign say?' a timid voice asked. 'They was rebels'?'

'No, no,' the leader said impatiently. 'We don't want anyone thinking it's possible to rebel.'

'But—'

'The sign will say, 'Enemies of the People.' Now do it!' '

'Yes, sir!'

The officers scurried to obey.

Matthias watched with a growing sense of fear. He could see where they were piling the bodies, and any second he expected to see Percy's striped flannel pajama pants, or his black shoes with the hole in only one sole. Percy had been so proud of those shoes, the best he'd ever owned in all his life.

Without realizing it, Matthias had been counting each thud of every dead body landing on the pile. At the same time that he reached seventeen, the Population Police officers stepped back, as though their work was done.

Matthias had seen no striped pajamas, no holey shoes. But it was nearly dark — how could he be sure?

'Do you think he'll let us go now?' someone whined.

'Sir, should we search the rest of the area?' another man asked.

Matthias held his breath.

'No,' the leader decided. 'We did what we came to do. We could spend our whole lives looking through this wasteland, and for what? Back to headquarters! Now!'

The Population Police officers melted back into the woods on the other side of the road, as silently as if they were shadows themselves.

'Matt-Matt,' Alia murmured.

'Shh,' Matthias said. 'Wait.'

It was too dark now to see Alia's face; he couldn't be sure if she was awake or not. He couldn't be sure what she'd heard or what she understood. He waited long, agonizing minutes, in case the Population Police came back. Then he whistled a soft imitation of a whip-poor-will. He and Percy had used that as a signal many times before.

Poor-will! Poor-will! echoed below him. Except it wasn't an echo. It was Percy.

Matthias felt like screaming for joy, rushing down the hill immediately. But he stopped himself. He picked up Alia again and inched through the darkness. He had to call and wait for Percy's answer again and again. Each call and response unnerved him. Percy should have been moving toward Matthias as Matthias moved toward him, so they could meet halfway. But Percy's Poor-will! Poor-will! stayed in one spot.

Finally, after what felt like hours of stumbling through near-total darkness, Matthias thought he was close enough to whisper.

'Percy?'

A hand grabbed Matthias's ankle. Matthias crouched awkwardly, almost thrown off balance by the weight of Alia's body. He felt around on the ground. Dead leaves, furry moss, Percy's bloody leg…

Bloody?

'Percy!' Matthias hissed, fear overriding caution. 'What happened to you?'

'Bullet,' Percy said. It sounded like he was talking through clenched teeth. 'Shot.'

And then Matthias felt Percy's head loll over to the side, against Matthias's shoe.

Percy had passed out.

Chapter Seven

As well as he could, Matthias tried raising Percy's head up again. But it was impossible to balance Alia on his lap and lift Percy at the same time.

'Percy, no, I need you,' he argued.

He remembered how Samuel had always said, 'God will never give you more than you can bear.' But how could Matthias bear this? Both Percy and Alia injured and in such great pain and maybe dying…

'Oh, God, no,' Matthias whispered, or maybe he was crying. He reached out for Percy's leg again, as if he believed his plea would make the wound miraculously heal itself. But blood was still seeping out along the gash in Percy's pajama pants. Lots of blood. Percy whimpered and jerked away from Matthias's hand.

Shouldn't touch, germs, infection, Matthias thought in a jumbled way. He was too horrified to think clearly, but the words 'soap and water' fought their way into his mind.