My short, adolescent legs weren’t particularly fast, but I wasn’t about to get caught. One of the wardens was catching up, so I twisted the robe still in my hands like my friends had taught me at the swimming pool and whipped backwards. I heard a yelp of pain.
In my mind, I could see the way out. There was a door from the dining hall, the one Gruber had entered, that led straight to the outside. I cut through the kitchens I’d seen earlier, and heard a strangled grunt of frustration from behind me. Without turning around, I grabbed a frying pan off its hook and threw it. I heard it make contact, and kept running.
Several cans of uncooked beans caught my eye as I approached the end of the kitchen. Zia’s last story came to mind as I scooped them up. Provisions. I thought, wrapping them into my robe. Two fell out and bounced back to my final few pursuers.
The length across the dining hall to the door seemed longer than before, but I didn’t stop running. I could only hear one set of legs still pursuing me, which was concerning. There were a total of ten wardens; I’d counted earlier. At least three should have had to stay behind to continue the execution march. One was nursing a whip bruise, and another was smarting from a frying pan. One other may have been slowed down or stopped by the dropped beans. That left the one still behind me and three others. Where were they?
Ignoring the anxiety coming to a boil in my stomach, I kept running. The door swung open easily, but I soon discovered where my missing guards had gone to.
One lunged at me from just beyond the door I’d just burst out of, but my young legs nimbly dashed out of the way. The dry dirt under my feet raised dust clouds around me, and a string of uncontrollable coughing informed me that another guard had been foiled. I doubted children often tried to escape, because these guards were woefully out of shape and practice. But I wasn’t about to complain.
I stopped running when I reached the forest of long-dead trees to look behind me. The guards had stopped actively pursuing me, but they were still outside. Ducking behind a clump of bushes, I squatted out of sight until the last of the guards finally descended back into the building.
Turning to leave, a clear intercom voice rang out. “Meg Carroway.†I stopped cold. The building was talking to me. “Your friends have graciously accepted the laws of society. When you have as well, you are welcome back. Please. Make the right choice.â€
Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to happen. Readjusting my robe satchel, I began walking.
By the time exhaustion had fully set in, the sky was dark, and the trees around me became monsters. I had been walking for several hours. Beginning to lose hope, I set down the robe and beans, readying myself for sleep, but then noticed something. It was a solitary red glow somewhere in the distance to my right. Propelled by both fear and curiosity, I made my way towards it, dragging along the makeshift pouch behind me.
There was a man hunched over a fire. His thick, plaid, flannel shirt was worn but tough, and his cargo pants looked to have been made for someone twice his size. I recognized the getup at once.
“Gruber.â€
He turned around and smiled. “I was wondering when you were going to get here.â€
Gruber’s first name should be Mack.