Chapter 8

Day 17

I stirred in the growing light and was instantly awake. We’re crossing the mountains today, I thought, with a mixture of excitement and dread. By nightfall we could be past the biggest barrier keeping us from the Academy. Or we could make a big mistake within sight of a farmer and be caught and enslaved for life.

I didn’t want to move for a moment. It felt too comfortable. It had taken some time, last night to find a position that would soothe Puppy so she’d stay there quietly. At last Runner and Puppy had settled in, facing each other on their sides, with Puppy’s head on Runner’s chest so she could hear Runner’s heartbeat. I was curled up against Runner’s back, my right thigh comfortably squeezed between Runner’s, both of us with an arm draped over Puppy’s shoulder.

At last Runner moved and stretched. I kissed the back of his neck and sat up, stretching as well. Puppy made a quiet yipping sound, raised her head, gave Runner’s nipple a lick and rolled up to her feet. Then she leaned across Runner to lick my face. I laughed and stroked her. That’s the only way of displaying affection she’s shown so far. Maybe the only one she has. Runner, at first, had used mainly his tongue, but also used caresses, not just with his arms and hands but with his legs and feet as well, something I was doing now as well. Each of us had taught the other some things. I wondered if we could teach Puppy some new responses. Her physical shape would limit those, but still...

After breakfast and elimination of wastes—Puppy peed next to a tree—it was time to get ready. There was Puppy’s dog-like behavior again. I doubted Puppy was “marking” the tree in the canine sense, but that was the way she had learned to pee. Confusing.

Runner dressed in his usual clothes. “The paddle, remember,” I reminded him.

Runner said, “Oh, right!” and retrieved the paddle from his bag, strapping it to his arm like the teenager we had seen a few days ago. “What else?”

I bit my lip, thinking. “We need to lift the cart up over the step here before we get me tied to it.” I had seen that there was a ramp cut into the step across from the start of the trail, so that wagons could roll up from the forest to the mountain road. But the ramp was located in the middle of the farm co-op across from the trail, and I was leery of passing through farms, close to so many people.

We watched the road for several minutes, but didn’t see anybody on the road in either direction, nor anybody on the trail. The road was never crowded at any time, and it was a little early in the morning to expect much activity. Grunting with the effort, we lifted up the cart. When we were done, I realized it would have been easier to empty it of peaches first and then refill it. A little late to do us much good.

I lifted Puppy up next. She walked around afterwards, looking puzzled but staying nearby. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. For the first time, I was exposing myself to easy observation should anyone happen to be looking. I climbed up, with Runner beside me. Runner draped the strap of the bag over my shoulder, then tied me to the cart.

There were short chains attached to the handles of the cart. I didn’t want to mess with padlocks—the keys might get lost. So we used vines running through the links of the chains to tie my hands to the handles. It looked as though the chains themselves were attached to my wrist cuffs, unless somebody looked very closely.

Runner gave me a questioning look. I took another deep breath and nodded. Runner started walking, angling his path toward the road. I followed him, as Puppy, full of early-morning energy, pranced around us. I hoped it looked like something a doggirl would be doing, and reminded myself that Puppy was certainly qualified in any situation that might call for her to act like a dog.

Minutes later we were on the trail, starting up its not-quite-gentle slope. As we began climbing higher, I became more aware of my nudity. Anybody on the road below could see me. Any number of farmers in the farm co-op directly below could be giving me at least a passing glance right now. As far as I knew, this would be the first time in more than two weeks on the island that any settler had seen me. I couldn’t stop myself from hunching my shoulders in a fruitless attempt to hide myself somehow. I wasn’t wearing my anti-trap vine tied around my waist; it was neither needed nor advisable here. It, and the vine-rope that Runner and I used for hanging practice, were coiled at the bottom of the bag I was carrying.

Within minutes, my leg and arm muscles were starting to complain about the amount of work I was doing, hauling the cart up the trail. My hobble chain was also dragging, for the first time in weeks. The trail was impressively smooth, with only slight ruts passing wagons, but my chain was occasionally held back by minor projections. I had to lift my feet as I walked, making the climb even harder. I suspected I was much better off pulling a relatively small cart, even full of peaches, than pushing one of those heavy wagons. Still, I was going to be very tired by the time we reached the top.

Puppy had settled into following behind me. Perfect. That’s the way we’ve been seeing it. There was another chain in the bag that could be used as a leash if necessary. I had no idea how Puppy would take to being led by a leash, or how unusual it might appear if we had to use one. I hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

It started to rain when we were about a quarter of the way up. I noted it only as a normal feature of the environment. A few weeks ago I probably would have thought, “Oh, maybe we should wait for a nicer day for this.” There were no nicer days, and I was used to being rained on. It was a relief, actually: it cooled me off much better than just sweating. I was actually glad of my extreme haircut, under the circumstances. Two weeks of constantly wet hair, frequently whipped around in front of my eyes by the wind, hadn’t been pleasant.

When we reached the level passing area at the halfway point, Runner stopped and reached into the bag. He pulled out a few pre-sliced peaches. Puppy had been whining for several minutes, and was most likely thirsty, if not hungry. Runner knelt and fed her several peaches. He fed me another handful of peaches, and ate a few himself.

Down at the base of the trail, a full wagonload pushed by a six-slave team was just beginning the ascent. It shouldn’t matter. They’re not going to catch up with us.

I winced as Puppy began whining in a different way. I whispered to Runner, “She wants sex. We can’t do that here. We’ve got people watching.” I gestured with my head to the wagon down below.

Runner gave me a worried look. “What should I do?”

I looked at Puppy, and whispered back, “Giver her a few hugs and talk to her. Tell her we’ll do it later. I don’t know if she’ll understand, but I think she’ll get a feeling we understand her.”

Runner knelt beside Puppy and gave her a squeeze, stroking her hair, rubbing his cheek against Puppy’s, saying softly, “You’ll just have to wait awhile, Puppy. Follow us now and we’ll be really, really nice to you later.” He gave Puppy one last kiss on the cheek, stroked her hair again and stood up. Immediately he resumed climbing the trail, and I followed behind him. Looking back, I saw Puppy watch us briefly, her lower lip pushed out in a childish pout, before she sighed and followed.

The view was breathtaking.

At its summit, the trail flattened out to form a plateau about thirty feet wide. Ahead, I looked down on a rolling sea of green tree-tops, with occasional islands of cleared ground—farmland with a few buildings scattered around. There were more clearings ahead than behind us. Beyond that was the deep gray of the ocean, whitecaps of waves near the shore gradually thinning to monochrome sea in the distance. For the first time, I could actually see that I was on a small, isolated island surrounded by unbroken water. Even from this height, I couldn’t see any land beyond the sea. I looked farther east. My home lay two hundred miles in that direction. But I couldn’t see it, and that brought home how very far I was from the world I knew. I felt a flash of anger at Andrew, for leaving me here helpless, endangered, and alone. Then came something akin to despair at the problems yet to be overcome before I could be safe at home in the Academy.

I’m not alone anymore, though. I have friends. Andrew never imagined that.

Barely audible, in an awestruck voice, Runner said, “It’s like you said, Amy. The other side of the mountains looks just like where we came from.” He pointed. “Is that the water? It looks so different from up here. I couldn’t see so much of it before. It’s so ... so big!” He looked at me, gesturing out to sea. “If you go far enough, there’s trees and ground again? Where the Academy is?”

I nodded. “We’ll go there. In a boat.”

Runner squinted. “What does a boat look like? Is there one out there?”

I squinted as well. “Not right now. Not close enough to see, anyway.”

Puppy was whining more insistently now. I bit my lip. I wasn’t sure Puppy would keep following us if she wasn’t getting what she needed.

I could see the team of slaves following us, trudging up the slope. Runner and I had easily outdistanced them, and the wagon hadn’t reached the halfway point yet. Ahead, the trail down the other side was clear. “Runner, untie my hands. We need to take care of Puppy.”

There was a jumble of rocks on our right, that would hide us from view. As soon as I was free, I started backing toward it, facing Puppy. “Do you want sex, Puppy?”

Puppy barked, suddenly excited. Another new word she now understood.

All this vocabulary she’s picking up, and it would just never occur to her to try to shape the same words with her own throat. She doesn’t even know about nodding or shaking her head. She barks in place of nodding. She barks in place of any number of things. I wondered if we might, over time, at least teach Puppy some normal body language, even if she never learned to talk. Or is it too late for that too?

Runner joined me, crouched down among the rocks, giving Puppy some much needed attention.

Minutes after starting down the trail, I spotted a wagon on the road below, and sucked in my breath. I swore to myself, wishing we could retreat to the effective cover of the rocks at the crest of the trail. But at this point the driver below would see us turning, and there was also the wagon coming up behind us. The driver would wonder what had become of us. I whispered, “There’s...”

“I see them. What do we do?” Runner was slowing.

“We have to keep going. Are you ready, on those things I told you?”

Runner gulped. “I think so.”

By the time we reached the broad level passing area halfway down the mountain, the wagon below had turned onto the trail and started up. I said, more softly than before, “We need to stop here and wait.”

“I know.” Runner was already on the flattened area, walking toward the side to give the wagon room to pass.

I stopped several feet ahead of him, and waited as Runner carefully adjusted his position. It was raining slightly harder.

I tried to still my trembling legs. Did I make this too complex? Maybe nothing will happen, I thought hopefully. The driver might just nod and pass on.

I suddenly remembered the mental trick I’d used for my Academy interview, it felt like two lifetimes ago. I said in a low voice “Runner, tell yourself this. Imagine it’s my voice in your head telling you. I’ll be saying this has already happened. All you’re doing is remembering it happening. Waiting here, meeting the farmer, talking to him ... imagine it’s all over, it happened yesterday, and all you’re doing now is remembering it. It went very well. Nothing bad happened. Do you understand what I’m saying?” The spattering of the rain would cover up the sound of my voice. The drivers of the other two wagons wouldn’t hear us.