Last Survivors 04: Shade of the Moon

  He started the bus ride by screaming at Mike Daley, the college student who was the team’s top goalie. He should never have allowed that second goal.

  It didn’t matter to Coach that the score was 7–1, with only ten minutes to play. Coach would have liked shutouts every game, except he’d been instructed to let the other team score at least once. Let them have their moment.

  So Coach let the other team score, but one point was enough. Two was a show of weakness, and Daley had no business letting it happen.

  Then it was Jon’s turn.

  “You could have scored two more points!” Coach shouted. “Don’t give away chances like that, Evans!”

  Actually, Jon had had three chances but had chosen to pass rather than go for the score. He’d never done that before. He was the team’s striker, and it had always seemed right to him that Sexton beat their opponents by as big a margin as possible.

  But not today. Today it seemed like rubbing their noses in it, and he couldn’t see the point.

  “You’re a friggin’ slip!” Coach screamed. “A pansy-ass grub lover. Were they your brothers, Evans? Or were they your boyfriends?”

  A few of Jon’s teammates snickered. Jon would have snickered too if he weren’t the one being reamed.

  “Sorry, Coach,” he muttered.

  “Sorry isn’t good enough,” Coach said. “You’re off the team, Evans, if you keep playing like this. Out of Sexton, if I have my way.”

  “I’m sorry, Coach,” he said again, this time in a stronger voice. “It won’t happen again. I’ll show those grubs who’s boss.”

  Coach grinned. “That’s the spirit, Evans,” he said. “Sure, you’re a slip, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t a claver. And a damn good one at that.”

  But sitting in the living room hours later, Jon still had a bad taste in his mouth. And it wasn’t from the bottle of potka they’d shared on the bus ride home.

  Jon looked up as Lisa walked into the room. “Are you hungry?” she asked. “There’s some leftover chicken in the fridge.”

  “Maybe later,” Jon said. “We ate on the bus.”

  “All right,” Lisa said. “If you don’t want it, Val and Carrie can have it for lunch tomorrow. How many goals did you score?”

  “Four,” Jon replied. “We won eight to two.”

  “That close?” Lisa said. “I bet Coach was angry.”

  Jon laughed.

  “Laura called,” Lisa said.

  “Didn’t she know I was out?” Jon asked. It was hard for Mom to make a phone call. None of the apartments had phone service, and no one was allowed to use the phones where they worked. There were a handful of pay phones in White Birch, and it took hours on Sunday to get to the front of the line.

  “She tried last night,” Laura said, “but there were five people ahead of her when the curfew siren went off. She said Matt’s going to be there next Sunday.”

  Matt lived in Coolidge, a couple of hundred miles away, working as a bike courier. He traveled all around the area, transporting letters and small packages for clavers. Sexton wasn’t on his route, but when he could, he swapped with another courier. Jon had seen him last in November, but he knew Matt had spent a weeknight with Mom, Miranda, and Alex in February.

  There had been a time when Jon felt closer to Matt than to anyone else in the world. When the bad times had come, he and Matt had spent endless hours chopping down trees so there’d be firewood. The work they’d done had kept the family alive, and it had provided Jon with the opportunity to get to know his big brother. They worked and they talked, and Jon had felt grownup and respected.

  But then Matt married Syl, and everything changed. And now Matt lived hundreds of miles away, and Jon was lucky to see him twice a year.

  “You must be due a Sunday off,” Lisa said. “I can’t remember the last time you had one.”

  Jon counted back. Ten Sundays, he thought. There were twelve men on the squad, and only eight went to each game, so no one was supposed to travel to more than eight games in a row. But Jon was the team’s best scorer, and Coach tended to forget the eight-game rule. Besides, slips were supposed to do a little more than anyone else.

  “I really want to see Matt,” Jon said.

  “Of course,” Lisa said. “And it’s wonderful for Laura to have all her children with her. I’m sure you can get next Sunday off.”

  Jon wasn’t nearly as sure, not the way Coach had been screaming at him. But he’d have to try. It could be another six months before Matt was in White Birch on a Sunday, and it was never safe to predict six months ahead.

  Monday, May 4

  Most of the grubs who commuted to work in Sexton were taken by bus to the factories or the greenhouses and then picked up at the end of the workday for the ride back to White Birch. The only grubs permitted to walk in Sexton were the domestics, who did the shopping while the clavers were at work.

  Clavers never walked. Even though most of the volcanic activity, caused by the change in the moon’s gravitational pull, had stopped nearly two years ago, the air quality was still bad, and it wasn’t a good idea to spend too much time outdoors. Buses ran regularly for clavers, with stops every few blocks.

  Jon would have preferred to bike to school. It would take less time, and he’d enjoy the exercise and the privacy. But even though it wasn’t forbidden to bike, it wasn’t encouraged either. All the buildings in Sexton—the homes, the schools, the offices—had air purification systems, but there was no way to purify the outdoor air. So, like everyone else, Jon rode the bus.

  Sarah got on the bus right as he did. Ryan and Luke were already on, but he sat next to her instead.

  “How was the soccer match?” she asked him. “Did you save civilization?”

  “I did my part,” Jon said. “You can sleep safely tonight.”

  Sarah tilted her head toward the window. “With all the guards here, I don’t have to worry. Unless they get ideas of their own.”

  “You must have had guards in your other enclave,” Jon said.

  “Yes,” Sarah said. “But not as many. At least not as many on the streets. I don’t know. Everything seems darker here.”

  “Everything is darker here,” Jon said. “The farther west you go, the darker the sky.”

  “That’s not what I mean and you know it,” she said.

  Jon glanced back at Ryan and Luke. He caught Luke’s eye. Luke pointed to the empty seat by his side. Jon shook his head.

  “Is it really that different?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” Sarah said. “I didn’t want to leave. I guess I’m just homesick.”

  By the time his family had left Pennsylvania, all Jon had wanted was to get away. But he supposed if you had food and water and electricity, you’d want to stay put.

  He looked up and saw Ryan standing by him. “Come on, Evans,” he said. “We miss you.”

  “It’s okay,” Sarah said. “Go. I’ll see you at lunch?”

  Jon nodded and followed Ryan back to the empty seat. “What’s this about?” he asked.

  “Tyler will tell you,” Ryan said.

  Jon looked at Luke, but he didn’t say anything. They sat in silence until the bus stopped at school. Tyler and Zachary were already there.

  “He was sitting with her on the bus,” Ryan said to them. “They were going to have lunch again.”

  “What of it?” Jon asked. “Sarah’s new here. She hasn’t made any friends yet.”

  “She isn’t going to make any friends,” Tyler declared. “Keep away from her, Evans.”

  “Why?” Jon asked.

  Zachary looked like he was about to punch Jon. Tyler put his arm on Zachary’s shoulder.

  “Look, Evans, you’re a slip,” Tyler said. “An outsider. But Luke and I are cousins. Zach and Ryan have been my friends since kindergarten. The four of us were in Cub Scouts together, Pop Warner, all of it. You’re a good soccer player, and you’re okay. We like you. But you’re not one of us. You don’t belong.”


  “Fine,” Jon said. “I don’t belong.”

  “It’s my grandfather!” Zachary yelled. “You stupid slip.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Jon said.

  “Zach’s grandfather was a doctor,” Luke said.

  “A great man,” Zachary said. “A great doctor. He was a doctor in Sexton for over fifty years.”

  “It was crazy when the government turned Sexton into an enclave,” Luke said. “People trying to keep their homes, their families. We’re the lucky ones. Our parents all were selected, so we got to stay.”

  “They said Granddad would have to leave,” Zachary said. “Fifty years didn’t count for anything.”

  “But my father stepped in,” Tyler said. “Dad owned half of Sexton. He had powerful friends. So they had to listen. They worked out a compromise. Zach’s granddad got appointed as the White Birch Clinic doctor, and they let him stay in Sexton.”

  “That’s the job Sarah’s father has,” Jon said.

  Luke nodded. “There were some problems at the clinic,” he said.

  Zachary took a swipe at Luke, but Tyler got between them.

  “There weren’t any problems!” Zachary screamed. “It was lies. All lies.”

  “Grubs lie,” Ryan said. “The women lie worst of all. They’ll say anything to hurt a claver.”

  “Only good thing was they shut those bitches up,” Zachary said. “Sent them to the mines. Hope they’re dead.”

  “I bet they are,” Ryan said. “No one lasts long in the mines.”

  “I don’t get it,” Jon said. “What does any of this have to do with Sarah?”

  “Sarah’s father is a doctor,” Tyler said. “He must have done something real bad, because he got kicked out of his enclave. Only he has powerful friends, even more powerful than Dad. So they fired Zach’s grandfather and gave his job to Sarah’s father.”

  “Not just the job,” Zachary said. “They gave Granddad’s home, the furniture, the grubs—all of it—to Sarah’s father. Everything. They wouldn’t even let Granddad stay here with us. They won’t let him live in my aunt’s enclave either. He had to move to the grubtown near her. My grandfather, living with those pigs.”

  “Sarah and her father shouldn’t be allowed in Sexton,” Ryan said. “They were thrown out of one enclave; they shouldn’t be allowed in another.”

  “But it’s not like they knew your granddad,” Jon said to Zachary. “They’re not responsible for what happened.”

  “That’s what I mean about you not understanding,” Tyler said. “It’s the slip in you, Evans. Zach’s grandfather is a great man. People around here know that. No one believes what those grub bitches said. He could have kept his job, his house, except they needed a place to put Sarah’s father.”

  “But it’s still not Sarah’s fault,” Jon said.

  “Jon, drop it,” Luke said. “It doesn’t matter if it’s Sarah’s fault. She doesn’t belong here. No one wants her here.”

  “You’re either with her or you’re with us,” Tyler said. “Take your pick, Evans.”

  Jon looked around the schoolyard. Sarah had already gone inside.

  He owed her nothing, he told himself. He owed Lisa everything. He’d made her a promise, and he had no choice but to keep it.

  “I pick you,” he said. “Sorry, Zach. I didn’t understand.”

  “No one expected you to,” Tyler said, slapping Jon on the back. “You’re a slip, Evans, but you have possibilities.”

  Tuesday, May 5

  Cowboy Gabe had time to shoot only one more bandit while riding his gallant steed, Jon, before going to bed, when the doorbell rang.

  Lisa looked up from her paperwork. “Who could that be?” she asked.

  “Come on, cowboy,” Jon said. “Let’s find out.”

  Gabe slid up so that he was resting on Jon’s shoulders as Jon rose and walked to the door. Sarah was standing there.

  Gabe stuck his finger out and pointed it at Sarah. “Bang, bang!” he yelled. “I shot you.”

  Sarah promptly collapsed on the front step. Gabe looked down at her. “I didn’t really shoot you,” he said, a worried expression on his face.

  Sarah got up laughing. “I’m glad to hear it,” she replied.

  “Jon, aren’t you going to introduce us?” Lisa asked, walking over to the front hallway.

  “Oh yeah,” Jon said. “Lisa, this is Sarah. She’s new at school. Sarah, this is Lisa. Lisa Evans. My stepmother.”

  Lisa smiled and extended her hand for Sarah to shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Sarah,” she said. “Jon’s friends don’t come over nearly enough.”

  “She didn’t come to see me,” Jon said. “She wanted to meet Cowboy Gabe.”

  “It’s time for Cowboy Gabe to go to bed,” Lisa said. “Jon, let him down.”

  “No!” Gabe screamed, but Lisa and Jon ignored him. Jon set him on his feet, and Lisa took hold of his hand. Gabe struggled, but Lisa held on and managed to get him upstairs.

  “Gabe’s nanny has a headache,” Jon said. “Lisa always says good night to him, but she doesn’t usually have to get him into bed.”

  “I don’t care about Gabe’s nanny,” Sarah said. “I want to talk to you, Jon.”

  “Not here,” Jon said. “We have a garage. Let’s go there.”

  “The garage?” Sarah asked.

  “It’s private,” Jon replied. “I don’t want Lisa to hear us.”

  “You don’t even know what I’m going to say!” Sarah cried.

  “I can guess,” Jon said. “All right?” He walked out the front door, and Sarah followed him to the garage.

  “This is awful,” Sarah said. “Has anyone been in here in five years? Can you at least turn a light on?”

  “I don’t think there is one,” Jon said. “Just say what you want, Sarah. I’m ready.”

  “Ready for what?” Sarah asked. “Ready to embarrass me some more? I thought you liked me. I didn’t invite you to sit with me. Not at lunch, not on the bus. One minute I see you; the next minute you’re gone. And the minute after that, you act like I’m invisible. You walk right past me like I’m not even there.”

  “I know,” Jon said. “Sarah, I’m sorry. I do like you. I like you more than any girl since I moved here. But Zachary, my friend—well we’re on the team together—and the thing is you moved into his grandfather’s house. Your dad took his granddad’s job.”

  “Do you know what that man did?” Sarah asked. “What he did to his patients?”

  “No,” Jon said. “I don’t know, and even if you tell me, I won’t believe you. Grubs lie, Sarah. They lie all the time. Zach says they lied about his grandfather, and I believe him. And my friends believe him. Try to see it from Zach’s point of view. His grandfather was forced out of town, and you stole his home.”

  “Daddy didn’t ask for the job,” Sarah said. “And we sure didn’t ask for that house.”

  “Tyler says you were thrown out of your enclave,” Jon said. “That someone pulled strings and got your father this job.”

  “My father is a great man,” Sarah said.

  “That’s exactly what Zach says about his grandfather,” Jon replied. “I’d probably say it about my dad if he were still around. Sarah, I can’t afford to let Zach hate me. Tyler’s on his side, and his father’s on the town board. Lisa’s up for her evaluation. I have to protect her.”

  “Do you like them?” Sarah asked. “Zach, Tyler, all of them? Do you even like them?”

  “Yeah,” Jon said. “As it happens, I like them a lot. They’re my friends, Sarah. My teammates.”

  “What would I have been?” Sarah asked. “If Tyler and Zach didn’t hate me?”

  Jon reached over and kissed her. Sarah kissed him back, then pulled away.

  “Oh boy,” she said. “Now I see the advantages of this garage.”

  Jon laughed. “I want to see you,” he said. “Just not where it will upset the guys. Not until after Lisa’s evaluation.”

  “When is it?
” Sarah asked.

  “In a week or two,” Jon said. “Can we keep things quiet until then?”

  Sarah stood there, absolutely still. Jon felt her slipping away. He kissed her again, but this time she didn’t respond.

  “We could walk to the bus together,” he said. “Where do you live?”

  “Elm Street,” she said.

  Jon thought about it. “That’s eight blocks from here,” he said. “I’ll ask Val to wake up twenty minutes earlier and make my breakfast. That should give me enough time to get to your house.”

  “Why don’t you wake up twenty minutes earlier and make your own breakfast?” Sarah asked.

  “I can’t,” Jon said. “I don’t know how.”

  “You’ve never made your own breakfast?” Sarah asked, and Jon could see she was struggling not to laugh. He took that as a good sign.

  “Maybe when I was a kid,” he replied. “But that’s what Val’s for, to make our meals and clean the house.”

  “That’s not what she’s for,” Sarah said. “It’s what she does.”

  “Fine,” Jon said. “It’s what she does. And she’s grateful for the job. We treat her well, and she knows it. There’s nothing wrong with me telling her to get up a few minutes earlier every day to make my breakfast.”

  “I wish you understood,” Sarah said. “Working at the clinic, I’m starting to see things differently. Maybe you would too if you knew any laborers.”

  “You mean grubs,” Jon said. “And I know some.”

  “I don’t mean your domestics,” Sarah said. “I mean friends, family.”

  “My sister’s a grub,” he replied angrily. “She works in the greenhouses. Her husband’s a grub. He’s a bus driver, here in Sexton. You don’t have to tell me grubs are people, the same as clavers. Are any of your family grubs? Any of your friends?”

  Sarah was silent.

  “I’m not the only claver with family in White Birch,” Jon said. “Most everybody has someone there. Maybe their dad was selected but their aunt and their cousins weren’t. So they settled in White Birch, hoping things would get better. And maybe things will get better, and there won’t be clavers anymore or grubs. But like it or not, that’s how things are.”