Breathe by Sarah Crossan Read Free Book Online Page B

door.
    “Come,” he says. I take the bag Aunt Harriet has half filled for me and dash out onto the balcony with him. We both stand there for a moment, terrified, desperately looking at the plants and then at the street ten stories below. It’s time to dump the plants.
    “Over here,” comes a crackling voice. Silas and I turn with a start to see Old Watson leaning on the railings of his balcony, gazing at us. I turn to Silas. I don’t know that we can trust him, but what choice do we have? Either I jump and fall to my death, or I climb over his balcony and risk betrayal. Old Watson sees us hesitate. “You didn’t really believe the story about why I water my plants, did you? Pass them over here,” he says. Inside the apartment, Aunt Harriet and Uncle Gideon are trying to stall the stewards who are banging on the door. “Get a move on,” Old Watson clucks.
    I glance up at the apartment buildings and balconies crowding in on us, but to check for people watching is ridiculous when so many probably are. I throw my small backpack onto his balcony and climb over myself. When I get to his side, I look down at his plants and see he wasn’t lying: everything is real—some of them are even flowering.
    “Pass the boxes,” I tell Silas, and he does, heaving them up and laying them in my open arms as carefully as a person might hand over a baby. As I put the final box safely on Old Watson’s balcony, we hear a scream.
    “They’re in,” Silas says. A glance I can’t read passes between Old Watson and Silas. Then Silas is gone, the balcony doors beeping as they shut firmly behind him.
    Old Watson leads me into his apartment and I gasp. His entire living room is filled with plants. “Magnificent, aren’t they,” Old Watson says. “You steal from them, I steal from you,” he confesses.
    “I have to escape,” I tell him. “If I stay in the pod, they’ll find me.”
    “Yes,” he says. Something crashing in my apartment causes the wall to vibrate. I shudder and consider climbing back across the balcony. If I surrender, they might leave my family alone. Old Watson leads me to the front doors. “Go while they’re busy,” he says. With a beep we step onto the porch. Old Watson looks through the peephole in the outer door. “It’s clear. Now, is there anything you need?”
    “Where do I go?” I ask.
    “Get to the Border. Find a group of Premiums and cross with them. They always get through.” He’s right. My only chance is with a Premium. “Quickly,” he whispers. He pushes me into the empty corridor. Muffled noises, like someone is being strangled, filter through my own front doors. “Get out of here, you stupid girl,” Old Watson snaps. “Go on! Go!”
    I push open the emergency door to the stairwell and scamper down ten flights of stairs, following the routine Silas and I have when we train. I come out in the alleyway between our apartment building and the monstrous construction next door. It is silent and dark. I pause to get my breath and plan a route. I need to run and I can’t do that in the open. I know all the alleyways in Zone Three, but I haven’t explored the ones in Zones One and Two. I’ll have to do my best when I get there.
    As I turn the first corner, I come upon a couple panting and pulling at each other. I start for a moment but then relax. It isn’t unusual to see this kind of thing; it takes a lot of oxygen to be in love, and if they stay at home they’ll get taxed for the excess air. I keep running and the half-naked couple doesn’t even notice me.
    I think of Abel as I run. I knew he wasn’t quite ready for the mission. I wanted him with me because I wanted an excuse to be alone with him. And now he is dead and I will never get the chance to be alone with him ever again. Abel is dead because I liked him.
    I can’t allow myself time to grieve because up ahead I spot a lone man with long thin hair standing in the shadows. Illegal exercise and sex aren’t the only reasons