Slip (The Slip Trilogy Book 1) by David Estes Read Free Book Online Page B

through the doorway, her undone shoelaces dragging around her feet. The door zips shut behind her. The boy begins to shuffle backwards, but stops when he realizes his father hasn’t moved. His forehead is resting against the closed door, his eyes shut. Has he fallen asleep standing up? No. At his sides, his father’s fingers are curling and uncurling, tightening into white-knuckled fists and then releasing.
    With swiftness so sudden and unexpected it makes the boy jump back, his father’s fist crashes against the door like a hammer blow. The boy stares, half-frightened, half-captivated, as his father continues pounding the door, each blow lessening in strength and sound, until his fingers remain against the door and he slides down to the floor, to his knees.
    And there, he weeps, the tears falling unabashedly onto the floorboards.
    The boy runs silently back to his room and dives under the covers, gasping for breath and wishing he’d never have to see his father cry again.
     
    ~~~
     
    Somehow the boy falls asleep. From sheer mental exhaustion, perhaps.
    But it doesn’t last long.
    He wakes with a start. It’s dark, but not quiet. Voices storm out from the expensive speaker system that the boy appreciates when he’s watching Bot Heroes on the holo-screen. The boy realizes that, in his haste to escape the broken view of his weeping father, he’d forgotten to close his door.
    Before he leaves his room this time, he slips on socks to pad his footfalls.
    The hallway is no longer swamped with shadows; the glow of the holo-screen illuminates the narrow corridor with a glowing path, almost like the moonlight on the River. He can see part of the holo-screen jutting out, projecting one of his father’s boring news programs. But why is he still watching the holo so late? Doesn’t he have to get up for work tomorrow?
    The newswoman with the long, gold hair and red, painted-on smile is speaking. He can only see one of her dark-rimmed eyes and half of her smile, but even still, it’s as if she’s speaking directly to the boy.
    “Official reports are coming out from Pop Con, ladies and gentlemen; the latest Slip has been found and terminated. Since the Pop Con Decree was voted into law, this is the oldest Slip to evade security forces, lasting five years, three months, and seventeen days. The city can now breathe a sigh of relief, as our delicate population balance has been restored.”
    The boy finds himself drawn to the screen as he puzzles over the newswoman’s report. Many of the words are familiar—he saw ‘Slip’ and ‘Pop Con’ on his father’s portable holo-screen—but he still doesn’t fully understand them. Pop Con is where his father works and Slip is a criminal. So they caught the criminal—that’s a good thing, right?
    Abruptly, he realizes he’s wandered past the cover of the hallway. He nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees that his father is facing him. When he realizes his father’s eyes are closed, he almost laughs out loud, only just catching himself.
    Sleeping. He fell asleep watching the holo. An empty bottle is overturned on the table, a few final drops of clear liquid rolling from its mouth. It’s the drink his father usually only has on special occasions. The boy’s heart rate returns to normal, and he shifts his attention back to the wall screen, where the story about the Slip continues.
    His heart stops. His blood rushes between his ears. His mouth falls open.
    For there, on the screen, is his father’s face. It’s a head shot, just the tops of his shoulders and up, but it’s clear he’s wearing his typical dark outfit. He also wears a stern expression, unsmiling, a face he rarely makes at home, only when the boy has been particularly difficult. Below the photo is a name: Michael Kelly. Michael! Just like what he heard Janice call him. But why does he have two names? Janice only has one. Zoran, too. Is his father an important man, to get two names and his photo on the