The Reaping by Annie Oldham Read Free Book Online Page B

breath.
    “Sorry. Just another second.”
    His fingers trail from my sternum to my back bone with a constant, steady pressure, and I wince.
    “I don’t think they’re broken. You landed pretty hard on them, though, so they’re probably bruised. You’ll want to be careful.”
    I wrap my arms around me, and it hurts at first, but then the pressure on my ribs is soothing. My legs are burning and rubbery, and I wobble on them as I look around. The soldier fired at us, and he can’t be the only one to suspect we’re here.
    Hide? I write to Jack. He nods.
    This car is practically empty. Cargo nets line the sides of the car, and one tall metal box stands in the corner.
    “This way,” Jack says, leading me toward the back of the car. There are only two or three cars after this one. Then there will be nowhere else to hide.
    Jack pulls me to the door that leads to the next car, but I stop beside the metal container. I peer up. The light in the car is dim, and the metal container is shoved into a corner full of shadows. I can barely make out the cargo nets swaying side to side above it. Jack looks back at me, wondering why I’ve stopped. I point up to the metal container.
    “Up there? You’re sure?”
    I nod. It’s perfect. This dark corner is the only half-concealed place in the car. They’d never expect us to hide somewhere so open. And honestly, all I want to do is lie down.
    “Well, up we go.” Jack stoops down and laces his fingers together. I put a foot in the cradle, and he boosts me up. Reaching for the top of the container and clambering up makes me see stars, but I ignore the pain in my side. I can lie down in a minute, I tell myself. Just deal with it for another minute. I reach down and help Jack up. We perch for a moment on the edge of the container, and then I look back and the nest of cargo nets sways back and forth with the rhythm of the train. We start working our way into the nets. I’ve just dropped a net in front of me when the door on the other end of the car hisses open.
    Jack and I both freeze. My fingers are woven through the mesh of the net, and I feel far too exposed. They won’t look up, I have to tell myself. That’s what you were banking on. Don’t doubt yourself now.
    A single soldier steps through the door. His rifle is up to his shoulder, and he swings it side-to-side as he searches the room. Luckily he doesn’t have his night-vision goggles on. If he did, we’d be spotted for sure. I can’t see his face through his mask, but by the way his shoulders relax, I know he doesn’t think we’re here.
    His head tilts to one side as he speaks into his walkie-talkie. “They’re not in this car either, sir.”
    “They were seen boarding the train, and they can’t have disappeared.” The voice on the other end is clipped and harsh. “Where are they?”
    The soldier lowers his rifle and his posture sags. “I don’t know, sir. It could have been a deer.”
    “Were you wearing your goggles?”
    Silence for a moment. I can imagine the guilty expression that crosses his face. “No, sir.”
    “You are to search the remaining three cars and then report to command immediately. Then you’re relieved of duty. Maybe you’ll think twice about not wearing your goggles when it’s nighttime . That’s what they were made for, idiot.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    The soldier brings his rifle back to his shoulder and makes his way to the opposite door. When it slides shut, I take a deep breath and gingerly sink into the nets. I close my eyes. That was far too close.
    “Don’t relax yet,” Jack whispers as he threads his way further behind the cargo nets. “He’ll be back as soon as he’s done.”
    I bury myself in the nets and when I’m finally touching the cold wall, I find a net to lie back into. Jack has found a spot just touching me, and I reach for his hand.
    “Are your ribs okay?”
    Barely.
    “Can you get comfortable?”
    Maybe. How long on the train?
    He purses his lips and shakes his