Luke knew better than to ask the next question. He knew about officers’ tempers. But he couldn’t stop the words bursting out of his own mouth: “Why do people need new I.D.’s? What’s wrong with the old ones?”
Officer Houk narrowed his eyes at Luke, studying Luke’s face. He really sees me now. He’ll remember me, Luke thought, fighting the familiar terror that had haunted him ever since he’d come out of hiding, the familiar desire to scream, Don’t look at me! Luke didn’t even bother to brace himself to be hit, because it didn’t matter. No punishment was worse than being stared at.
But Officer Houk only shrugged.
“There’s nothing wrong with the old I.D.’s,” he said. “The new ones are just better.”
And Luke, who had to fight so hard to read facial expressions, who had to struggle to interpret tones in strangers’ voices, watched carefully as Officer Houk turned back around to face the wind rushing at them.
He’s lying, Luke thought, hopefully. Then, with less certainty: If he’s lying, I think I know the truth. Could it be—?
Chapter Three
It had been one of their riskiest plans. At Population Police headquarters, Luke and his friends had heard rumors that the leaders were collecting identity cards for some big test, to sort out legal citizens and illegal third children once and for all.
“They’re all in one spot,” Nina had whispered in Luke’s ear once when she’d brought food out to the stable. Nina worked in the headquarters kitchen; she was the only one of his friends that Luke ever saw. That day he’d blinked stupidly at her, not quite understanding until she hissed, “We can destroy them.”
Then Luke had wanted to ask, How? and What good would that do? and What if it’s all a trap? and What makes you think we have any prayer of succeeding? But Nina had stepped back quickly, gathering up serving trays, so he’d had no time to say anything after she told him what to do.
Luke’s assignment had been to place a particularly pungent glob of horse manure in the middle of a path, in order to delay an officer who was rushing to repair a security fence. Luke had taken the manure from Jenny’s stall; he’d arranged it carefully to look fresh and accidental and unplanned. After that he’d heard nothing more about I.D.’s, nothing more about the plan.
He thought it must have failed. Failed, like every other plan.
But if they’re issuing new I.D.’s to everyone in the country, maybe the old ones really were destroyed. Maybe…
Maybe it didn’t matter. And even if it did, how could Luke take any pride in the plan’s success when all he had done was arrange horse manure?
Luke shivered in the bitter wind pushing its way into the jeep. The bleak countryside flashed past him: leafless trees and lifeless fields.
“My dad had a mechanic’s shop, back home,” the other boy said suddenly. “I’m good with cars.”
Luke forced himself to turn and look at the other boy.
“Yeah?” Luke said. Did this kid actually think Luke would want to be friendly with someone who’d stolen his bread?
“Yeah,” the boy said. “So it was stupid that they had me polishing shoes at Population Police headquarters.”
He said this softly, as if he didn’t want the officer and the driver in the front to hear.
Luke shrugged.
“What did you expect?”
The boy got a dreamy look on his face that softened all his features.
“Food,” he said. “I just wanted to eat. To have a full stomach for once in my life. Isn’t that why everyone joined up?”
Luke shrugged again, and went back to staring out at the dead landscape. He knew that the Population Police had control of the entire country’s food supply; he knew that every family had to have someone working for the Population Police or they’d get no food. But he still felt like yelling at the boy, The Population Police kill children, don’t you know that? Do you even care? Is your full stomach worth other kids’ lives?
Luke and the other boy were silent for the rest of the drive. The men in the front seat didn’t seem to be talking to each other either, but Officer Houk kept holding the radio to his mouth and muttering, “Seeking report on identification process in Searcy,” or, “What’s the progress in Ryana?” Luke wondered vaguely if he was in charge of other units as well, or if he was just nosy.
Then the ruts and potholes in the road grew so huge that Officer Houk put his radio down and concentrated on telling the driver which way to go: “Ease it out gradually—oof! That just caught the right rear tire. You don’t think the axle’s bent, do you?” Twice Luke and the other boy had to get out and push. Luke thought he heard the other boy muttering, “Stupid, stupid, stupid. This is no way to treat a motor vehicle.” But Luke made no attempt to catch the boy’s eye or to exchange “at least we’re in this together” shrugs.
When they finally reached Chiutza, hours later, Luke was sweating despite the cold, and his bones were jarred from so much bouncing.
“Quickly,” Officer Houk ordered, hurrying everyone out of the jeep. “Get everyone in the town square by”—he glanced at his watch—“eleven o’clock. Each of you take one street then report back and I’ll assign the next one.”
“Street” was too fancy a word for the trash-strewn paths lying before them. Luke could tell that once upon a time, years and years and years ago, Chiutza had had nicely paved streets and concrete sidewalks and sturdy houses. Now the streets were more gravel than pavement, the sidewalks fell off into gaping holes, and the houses were ramshackle, with doors hanging loose and windows patched with plastic.
“Stop gawking and go!” Officer Houk shouted.
Luke saw that the driver and the other boy were scurrying to the right and straight ahead, so Luke veered to the left. The first house he came to looked somehow sadder than all the rest, because it had clearly once been quite grand. It had two stories while most of the others had only one, and it was surrounded by a painted fence, now broken down in decay.
Don’t look, Luke told himself.
He pushed aside a cracked gate and went to pound on the front door.
“Open up! Population Police!” he shouted.
And then he shivered, because who was he to be yelling those words? He remembered his brother Mark playing cruel tricks on him when he was a child, pretending Luke’s worst nightmares had come true. He remembered a time he’d heard those words from the inside of a house, when he’d had to hide to save his life.
And he remembered another time, when he’d been caught and carried away….
Desperately, Luke shoved himself against the door, as if he could escape his own memories. The door gave way, rusty hinges tearing away from rotting wood. Luke stumbled into a dim living room and found an old woman sitting on a faded couch. Sitting there knitting, as if she’d had no intention of answering the door.
Luke stared at her and she stared at him. Then she said, almost mildly, “It wasn’t locked. You didn’t have to break it down.”
The light caught in the woman’s glasses, which threw off slivers of color, like a prism. A cloud of white hair swirled around her face, making her seem unearthly. She looked frail without seeming delicate or feeble. Luke found himself wondering if this was what his own grandmother looked like—the grandmother who’d never even been allowed to know of Luke’s existence.
“The Population Police require your attendance at a meeting at eleven o’clock in the town square. You will be issued a new identity card. No other cards or papers will be valid after these cards are issued,” Luke said in a rush. And then he turned to go, because he didn’t want to think about how he’d broken the woman’s door, how he was acting like a typical, brutish Population Police recruit, how this woman’s eyes seemed to accuse him. But even as he turned, Luke could see that the woman was making no effort to rise from her couch.
“This is mandatory,” he said, still moving toward the door.
“No,” the woman said.
Luke stopped, certain he’d heard wrong.
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“What?” he said.
“I said no,” the woman said calmly. “I’m not going.”
“Don’t you know what ‘mandatory’ means?” Luke demanded. “You have to go!”
“No,” the woman said again. “I have a choice. You can call it mandatory. You can call it required. But I can make up my own mind. And I’m not going.”
Luke heard footsteps outside.
“What’s going on in there? Why is this taking so long?” Officer Houk screamed.
Luke could hear him shoving the door, which then fell away completely from the frame, slamming to the floor. Luke jumped out of the way, but not before the door hit his leg.
Officer Houk glanced at the door on the floor, then glared at the woman.
“Come along,” he growled.
“She says—,” Luke started to explain, but then he felt like he was tattling.
“I’ll speak for myself,” the woman said. “I am through cooperating with the Population Police. You said if we followed your rules, obeyed your laws, we’d have peace and prosperity. Is this peace—men breaking into my house for no reason? Is this prosperity?” She gestured broadly at her house and yard, and Luke saw that her dress was held together with safety pins. “You said that if my son went off to work for you, we’d all have food. Now my son is gone, and I’m still starving. And you really think I care about identity cards?”
Officer Houk reached down for something on his belt. A gun, Luke realized in horror. Officer Houk pointed it at the woman and said through gritted teeth, “You—will—obey.”
“No,” the woman said once again, her voice steady, almost joyful.
Officer Houk lowered his gun.
Chapter Four
Luke stared in amazement. Could it really be that easy? Tell the Population Police no—and they back down? Had anyone else ever thought to try that approach?
But Officer Houk wasn’t backing down.
“I’m not wasting a bullet shooting her here, where no one else can see,” he said. “Carry her out to the town square and I’ll execute her there. Where all of Chiutza can learn a lesson.”
He was talking to Luke. Luke was supposed to lift up this woman in his arms and take her to another place to be killed.
I have a choice…. I can make up my own mind…. The woman’s words still seemed to be echoing in the room, reverberating in Luke’s mind. Do I have a choice? he wondered. If he refused Officer Houk’s order, he didn’t think Officer Houk would smile and put his gun away and say, Oh, you’re right. We’ll just leave this old lady alone. Have a nice day, ma’am. Officer Houk would probably decide to shoot the woman and Luke.
But if he obeyed…if he played a role in her death…
Oh, Trey, why didn’t you think about something like this happening, back when you said we should sabotage the Population Police from within? Luke agonized.
“Pick her up now!” Officer Houk shouted. “Do it!”
Luke stumbled forward and scooped the woman into his arms. Her body was incredibly light, like chicken bones. He thought about running out the back door to carry her to safety, but Officer Houk had the gun pointed at both of them now. Luke couldn’t ever run fast enough or far enough.
Luke lowered his head, putting his face against the woman’s cloud of white hair.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’ll try—”
The woman gave no sign that she’d heard him.
Officer Houk guided them out the doorway. Luke tripped over the broken sidewalk, and barely managed to keep from dropping the woman.
“Watch it!” Office Houk hissed.
“It’s because of my leg,” Luke tried to explain. “When the door hit—” His leg was throbbing now, and even the woman’s slight weight seemed too much of a burden.
“Put her down here, then,” Officer Houk said, pointing to a spot on the ground in front of a gathering crowd.
It seemed wrong to just drop such an old woman into the mud. But she surprised him by sliding down and standing on her own two feet. The crowd took in the sight of the regal old lady being held at gunpoint and fell silent.
“This woman,” Officer Houk shouted at the crowd, “refused to obey a direct order from a Population Police officer. This is treason. This is punishable by death. I hereby proclaim her sentence. Do all of you understand her crime?”
The crowd stayed silent. Luke saw tears rolling down the face of a girl in the front row. He saw a man holding his hand over his mouth, in horror.
And he heard from behind him a muffled “Sir?”
It was the driver, back in the jeep. “Sir,” he hissed. “The radio—I think you should listen…”
Officer Houk frowned, obviously annoyed by the interruption. He glanced back and forth between the jeep and the crowd, between the straight-backed, silent woman and the radio the driver was holding out to him.
“Here,” Officer Houk said, thrusting the gun into Luke’s hand. “Keep pointing it at her,” he whispered.
The metal of the gun handle seemed to burn against Luke’s skin. I have a choice…. I have a choice…. The wordsseemed to roar in Luke’s ears, blocking out almost every sound. Dimly, Luke was aware of Officer Houk walking back toward the jeep, muttering into the radio. Was the crowd murmuring now, too? What was Officer Houk hearing over the crackle of static?
“…resistance in Ryana…facing hostilities in several towns…calling all units back for reinforcement…”
Had Luke really heard that?
Officer Houk was lowering the radio from his ear, turning to face Luke and the woman again.
“Shoot her,” he said. “Shoot her and let’s go.”
The gun shook in Luke’s hand. He remembered one other time he’d held a gun in his hand, held all the power. I have a choice…. I have a choice….
“Shoot her now!” Officer Houk screamed.
Refused to obey a direct order…This is treason…punishable by death…
Luke dropped the gun and ran.
Leven Thumps:
Leven Thumps and the
Gateway to Foo
by Obert Skye
Turn the page for an unforgettable journey to a place where the impossible is possible!
Meet Leven Thumps. He’s fourteen and lives a wretched life in Burnt Culvert, Oklahoma. He’s also the only one who has the power to save the land of Foo. He just doesn’t know it yet.
Leven Thumps and the Gateway to Foo is the first book in this fantasy series. Look for the second book in the series—Leven Thumps and the Whispered Secret—in Fall 2006.
OBERT SKYE read his first book at age two and wrote his first story at age four. He was nearly trampled by a herd of water buffalo at age six. For a short time, he lived on the Isle of Skye in Scotland, where he spent time as a candy taster. Several years ago, Obert Skye says, he discovered the existence of Foo. Publishing his story as a fictional series was not Obert’s first choice. Nevertheless he is content that the “history” is being told.
Visit www.SimonSaysKids.com for more information on the series and Obert Skye. Explore the world of Foo and enter the “Find the Gateway” contest at www.leventhumps.com.
JULY 2006—AVAILABLE IN PAPERBACK!
Aladdin Paperbacks
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The Beginning
It was at least forty degrees above warm. The day felt like a windowless kitchen where the oven had been left on high for an entire afternoon. Heat beat down from above and sizzled up from the dirt as the earth let off some much-needed steam. The sky had decided it had had quite enough, thank you, and had vacated the scene, leaving the air empty except for heat. No matter how wide a person opened his mouth that afternoon or how deep a breath was taken, there just wasn’t enough oxygen in the air to breathe. The few remaining plants in people’s gardens didn’t droop, they passed out. And the flags that only days before had hung majestically on the top of local flagpoles no longer looked majestic, they looked like multicolored pieces of cl
oth that had climbed up and tragically hung themselves.
All this in and of itself was not too terribly unusual, but as the heavy sun started to melt away an odd, wild, uncoordinated wind began to pick up. Not a northerly wind or an easterly breeze, it was a wind with no direction or balance. It was as if the four corners of earth and heaven all decided to simultaneously blow, creating what the local weather personalities in Tin Culvert, Oklahoma, called “beyond frightening.” Sure, people could breathe, but now they were getting blown away.
Trees bent and writhed, whirling like pinwheels as the atmosphere pinched and pulled at them. Rooftops buckled and nature picked up huge handfuls of dirt and spastically flung them everywhere. Cats learned how to fly that evening, and any loose article weighing less than a car was taken up in the rapture of the moment. People locked themselves in their homes, radios on, waiting for someone to tell them everything was going to be okay, or for nature to do them in.
As dusk matured into night and just when those cowering in fear could stand no more, a darkness, the likes of which had never before been seen, began to ooze up from the ground and ink in the gray of evening. The hot windy sky quickly became a thick sticky trap. Animals that had foolishly taken shelter in trees or ditches began to suffocate as the heavy, plastic-like blackness folded over them. The wild wind swooped in from all directions to steal their last breaths and leave them dead where they once whined.
The blackness weighed down on everything. Porch lights burst under the weight of it. If the wind had been absent, a person could have clearly heard the explosion of almost every light and window in Tin Culvert as the fat, dark atmosphere let its full bulk rest upon anything glowing. Homes came alive with screams as front windows buckled and blew inward. Cars and mobile homes creaked under the force of darkness upon their backs. People cowered under tables and beds trying to escape the advancing crush.