Free Feedback by Robison Wells Page B

hunts and Birdman’s useless meetings. I wanted to get out of here.
    She paused, and then looked right at me and spoke. “First things first: we aren’t anything, because there isn’t a ‘we.’ You’re not back at the school. There aren’t gangs.”
    “But—”
    “No, listen. I want to escape. Tapti wants to escape. Some others do, too.” Shelly started pointing around the field at other kids. “But Taylor’s suicidal right now. Hog wants to sit and wait it out. Brendan thinks we should negotiate. And Eliana, well …”
    “What?”
    “She’s human, but she thinks she’s a robot. They’ve screwed with her brain so much that she doesn’t even know who she is. So if you want to show up here without knowing any of us at all and tell me that we’re all cowards, then fine. Hooray for you. Go play with Birdman and flirt with Jane and get out of my way.”
    She gave me a final look and then walked away.
    I had no business interrogating anyone. Old habits die hard.
    Someone shouted, far away, and then someone else.
    The bell at the fort rang. I shot a look at Jane just to see her collapse to the ground. Everyone around me was going limp, dropping violently onto the frozen earth.
    I jumped, instinctively running toward the fort. But it was too far. I could hear the sharp buzz of the four-wheelers’ engines—they sounded like they were all around me.
    One came speeding out of the forest, not following any path, just smashing through the brush and into the open field. I fell to the ground, my face against the cold, slick dirt. I may have looked like one of the other kids from a distance, but I couldn’t stay here. They were looking for me.
    I crawled on my elbows, not lifting up more than a few inches, and worked my way between two pallets of lumber. In the narrow space I couldn’t make out the direction of any of the engines—the sounds were all around me, both near and far.
    This wasn’t a permanent solution, but I didn’t have any other ideas. I was out in the open, fifty yards from the nearest building. Worse, I didn’t know which direction I could run—I had no idea where they were. I couldn’t see a thing.
    I took a deep breath and risked a peek around the edge of the lumber. One of the four-wheelers was racing down the dirt road toward the barn. It passed me without slowing. Iceman was driving.
    Without waiting, I darted out from my hiding place and jumped down into the freshly dug trench, landing on the congealing cement. It was still wet, but too dense for me to sink into, and I lay on my back about a foot below ground level. With one hand I tried to scoop from the gravel pile, to create an avalanche that could hide me, but instead of covering myself I only made a lot of noise.
    I peered aboveground again. The engines, wherever they were, all sounded like they were idling now. I couldn’t see any of them.
    I reached for the nearest person—Walnut. “If you can hear me, sorry. I won’t enjoy this either.” I grabbed his coat by the back of the neck and pulled him toward the trench. He was bigger than me—taller, and his coat was unbuttoned and loose—and when I pulled his body on top of mine it seemed like he hid me pretty well. It was a long shot—my legs could have been sticking out—but it was the best I could do.
    I heard voices. Iceman, either talking to himself or to another copy of himself.
    This was idiotic. What was I doing out in the open anyway? If Iceman had just stood at the tree line with binoculars instead of swooping into town he could have easily picked me out. I wasn’t going to make this mistake again.
    I was going to get Becky and me out of this town. And if Birdman and Shelly were no help, I’d figure it out myself.
    It was nearly half an hour before everyone regained consciousness. There were no speeches this time, no announcements that the kids needed to hand us over. Instead, they just searched. I heard doors open and rustling brush. I heard footsteps near me,