Free Stolen by Lucy Christopher Page A

no buildings on the other side, no towns … not even a road. It looked the same on that side as it had looked near the house. Long, flat emptiness. I wanted to scream, probably the only reason I didn’t was because I was worried you would hear me. If I’d had a gun, I think I would have shot myself.
    I sank down into the top of the tree and leaned my head against one of the branches, sticking the heels of my hands into my eyes. Then I wrapped my arms around the branch, and pressed my face into the bark. A rough part of it scratched at my cheek, but I kept pressing against it, trying to stop the sobs.
    It sounds crazy, but right then all I could think about was my parents at the airport. What had they thought when I hadn’t turned up for that flight? What had they done about it since? I leaned my cheek against the bark and tried to remember the last thing we’d said to each other. I couldn’t. It made me cry even more.

     
    I was almost calm again when I heard the car. Quickly, I scrambled back up the tree and out onto the rock. I grabbed a branch, nearly losing my balance. I looked out at the horizon first, then at the land beside the Separates. There! Your car was driving slowly across just underneath me.
    It took me a little time to figure out what you were doing. At first I thought there had always been a fence. Then I realized you were putting it up, right then. My heart sank. So that was why you hadn’t followed me—you’d been driving around the Separates the whole time, boxing me in, trapping me like an animal. I’d been so caught up in trying to get through the rocks that I hadn’t even noticed the sound of the car.
    I watched you make the fence. You had a long roll of what looked like chicken wire, and when you got to the wooden stakes, the ones I’d seen stuck in the ground earlier, you hammered the wire to them. You worked quickly, stretching to nail in the tops and then crouching to secure the bottom. It only took a couple of minutes per stake and then you were driving to the next one. It looked like the job was almost finished. I was already fenced in.
    I leaned against the rock. Up there, above the trees, the sun was strong on my face, and I was suddenly exhausted. Beaten. I shut my eyes, wanting to block it all out.
    When I opened them again, you’d stopped driving around. Instead, you were waiting on the other side of the fence, car stationary and the driver’s door open, your boots resting on its wound-down window. I saw the smoke rising from a cigarette.
    I held on to the branches and looked back at the house, at the desolate land around it. There was a slight breeze blowing about some bits of vegetation. In the far distance, I could still see those hill-like shadows. They were such a long way away, but still, they gave me a tiny spark of hope. Apart from those, the rocky outcrop I stood on was the only bit of height for as far as I could see. For the first time, I wondered how you’d found that place. Were there really no other people anywhere? Was it really just us? Perhaps any explorers had given up halfway, or died. There was something astonishing about being able to survive in that land. It seemed more like another planet than earth.
    I felt my throat close up, and I wanted to start crying again. But I wouldn’t let myself; I had to be stronger than that, otherwise I would just stay on top of that tree until I died of starvation, or thirst. Dad said once that dying of thirst was the most painful death of all, a person’s tongue splits and then the internal organs pack up one by one … busting open as they expand. I didn’t want that.
    So I decided to make my way back to the main clearing. I’d wait until it got dark, then creep out to that fence and test it, see if I could get over it or under it. How difficult could it be? Then I’d run back to the house, get supplies and clothing if I had time, some water, and head off across the desert toward those shadows in the distance.