a few years weâll be old enough to work and get into the Bazaar for our own rations,â Tim said. âThen we get the others out.â
Jude did the mathâsix kids to a house. âA couple dozen more real bad. Yeah, that sounds right. Make a list. Youâll be okay here, until next Saturday.â
âWest said six,â Clover whispered to him. The other boys were standing right there, though, and heard.
âItâll be okay,â he said, to all of them.
âWeâre leaving them here?â Clover asked. âAre you sure?â
âIâm sure.â
âWho are you anyway?â Wally asked.
âThis is my friend Clover.â
Timâs eyes widened, and he shared a look with David. âYouâre the girl left the city and came back. Whatâs it like out there?â
âLater,â Jude said. âWe have to get somewhere before curfew. You got some power up here. Shut the curtains before you turn on the lights. Anyone sees your windows shining, youâre in big trouble, yeah? And ration that food.â
âMeat,â Wally said. âDonât forget.â
âWonât.â Heâd go vegetarian this week, if he had to.
â
Jude hadnât exactly forgotten how early dark came in November, it was more like heâd lost track of time. It surprised him that Clover had as well. It was a good thing they were going to her house, because they wouldnât have made it back to campus on time.
They were late enough coming into the bar that the man at the booth just inside the door lifted his eyebrows in mild condemnation. Coming in late, though, meant there was no wait. The dosers needed to get home by curfew, too.
He and Clover took seats next to each other and waited. Mango sat on the floor between them.
Clover looked at him. âHow could youââ
Jude picked up Cloverâs hand.
Not here
, he thought, and hoped she could read his mind. She threaded her fingers through his instead of letting go, which made him smile.
She was still holding his hand when the doser inserted a syringe full of ice-blue, thick, cold suppressant into the portal implanted at the back of her neck. Her fingers tightened when the gel-like liquid burned its way through her veins. He had time for a burst of anger before he felt his own dose spreading down his spine and over the back of his head like fire.
They didnât need the suppressant. No one did. He and Clover and Bridget knew it, and they still let themselves be injected every day with the painful, addictive substance. They had no choice, as long as they were in the city.
When they were outside again, the sun was nearly gone behind the mountains. They had only a few minutes before the curfew bells rang. Jude thought theyâd make it on time. He quickened his pace, just in case, and Clover had to almost jog to keep up.
â
Leanne was already there. Jude didnât know her, but she looked to him like she was close to coming completely unraveled. She stood on the porch, but in the shadows so that Jude saw her only because he was looking for her. Her arms were wrapped tight around her chest, like she was holding in some kind of pain.
âLeanne?â Clover knelt and pulled her house key from the pocket in Mangoâs service-dog vest. âYou look terrible.â
Leanne drew a hand through hair that probably hadnât been washed in at least a week. âYouâre late. I almost left.â
âYou wouldnât have gotten anywhere before curfew,â Clover said. As if on cue, the curfew bells rang. One came from a church on the other side of the river. Another from an abandoned high school a couple of blocks away.
âCan we go inside?â Their arrival wasnât doing much to ease Leanne. She looked like a frightened, skittish animal.
Jude watched Clover unlock the front door, then hesitate in the doorway. She hadnât been home since the night they
Learning to Kill: Stories