Free Immurement: The Undergrounders Series Book One (A Young Adult Science Fiction Dystopian Novel) by Norma Hinkens Page B

planted on the ground. My jaw pulsates with pain. I’m learning the hard way not to challenge him in any way.
    “Put her in the hole with the meathead,” Rummy says over his shoulder to Blade. He turns back to me, his pierced brow glinting menacingly. “You even think about tryin’ to bust outta here, Butterface, and I’ll tattoo your wuss-white cheeks with my switchblade.”
    Blade motions at me to get back inside the tent.
    I crawl inside on all fours, my heart pounding with a mixture of fear and relief.
    I stretch my throbbing body out alongside Owen. Up close, the grotesque proportions of his swollen face are even more shocking. But, at least he’s still breathing. I lay perfectly still, straining to listen in on Rummy and Blade’s conversation.
    “… let Diesel hear what she has to say.”
    “I ain’t down for taking them to Diesel.”
    “You ain’t in charge! We’re rollin’ out at midnight.”
     
    I awaken to Owen's moans. I blink and bolt up into a sitting position. He twists from side to side, groaning like a wounded animal.
    “Owen! It’s me, Derry,” I whisper into his feverish ear.
    His body responds with a couple of spastic jerks, and then his cracked lips open and close. I dive for his pack and rummage around for water. I cradle his clammy head in my arms and hold his canteen to his lips. The first mouthful spills down his chin as he struggles to swallow. I lift him a little higher and try again, this time allowing only a few drops at a time to trickle into his mouth.
    His throat spasms, a loud, uncomfortable gulching that makes me shudder.
    “Owen!” I lean over his face. “Nod, if you know it’s me.”
    His neck muscles twitch in the palm of my hand. “What … are you doing … here?”
    “We followed the Rogues’ trail.”
    “Frank’s … camp?” His voice rasps like sandpaper. “Did you find them?”
    I hesitate. If I tell him what happened to Reid he might lose all hope. “Not yet.”
    “They’re not here.” Owen lets out a heavy sigh as if the few words he’s spoken have exhausted him.
    I offer him another sip of water, but he flops sideways, eyes scrunched shut.
    I lay his head down carefully and screw the cap back on the remaining water. I’m tempted to take a swig, but there’s no guarantee Blade or Rummy will replenish our supply any time soon.
    I lie back down and carefully shift my jaw from side to side. It’s stiff and it aches, but as far as I can tell it’s not broken. That’s about all that’s still intact. In the space of a few short hours I’ve lost Jakob, Mason, Big Ed, my dog, and even my pack. I blow out a long, despairing breath. I can’t lose Owen too.
    My thoughts return to Jakob. I press my knuckles to my temples and work them around in circles to ease the pressure building inside. Do the Sweepers even have him? Maybe he fell from the trail into the river trying to get away from them. My stomach twists. I can’t allow myself to go there. I have to believe he’s alive, for now.
    I close my eyes and start to drift off again when I hear Blade’s voice. He yanks the flap on the tent aside. I shield my eyes with the back of my hand when a blinding beam searches out my face.
    “On your feet,” he barks. “We’re movin’ out.”
    “What about him?” I motion to Owen.
    “Shut up and get out!” Blade yells, making a fist.
    I scramble past him, averting my eyes. I’ve no desire to invite another sucker punch.
    He tosses me Owen's pack. “Put this on.”
    I adjust the straps and load it on my back without a word.
    A few minutes later, two skinheads appear, carrying what looks like a combat stretcher between them. I watch, sick to my stomach, as they drag Owen feet first out of the tent and toss him onto the stretcher like he’s nothing more than a rotting corpse.
    Rummy appears with several more Rogues.“You take the rear,” he says to Blade. “Keep a close eye on the girl.”
     
    We walk for miles, stepping over downed trees, following