Tina Chan - imperfect

I used to belong to you, Troop thought. I used to be your son, and where did you put me? Nowhere, that’s where. You ditched me. He took a second to get his emotions under control, and then said, “This way.”

He showed his father to the guest room and left him in there to unpack.

Troop wanted to leave the apartment. He wanted to get away from this relative stranger, but for some reason, Troop didn’t trust leaving his father alone in the apartment.

His father sat on the couch across from Troop in the living room. So far, he had looked at everything but Troop. As a matter of fact, he seemed unsure of what to do.

Good. The more uncomfortable he is, the better. Troop still hadn’t taken his eyes off him yet, as if he was afraid the man would stab him in the back the first chance he got.

The door swung open. Two pairs of eyes trailed to the door. Troop’s mom stepped into the apartment. “Has Troop gotten you settled in yet?” she asked.

Troop’s father stood up to give her a hug. “Yes, Troop has already shown me my room. Thank you so much for taking me in.”

“Not a problem.” She gently pushed away his attempted embrace. “Troop, don’t you have a tutor session in fifteen minutes?”

Troop detested the idea of leaving his mom with his father. His mother saw the concern in his eyes and shooed him out the door with her hands, “Get out of here. I need to talk with your father and if you don’t leave in ten seconds I will personally skin your hide.”

He took off without another word.

“That’s a bummer. We could’ve gotten a lot more information from Stevey if we had only posed our questions correctly,” said Jaiden, kicking rocks down the road.

With less than one day’s supply, they desperately needed to refill their necessities, as the next closest civilization was at least three days’ walk. Chelsa had grudgingly agreed to stop by the city of Alma for one night.

“We still received a fair amount of info,” said Kristi. “Let’s go find an inn.”

Chelsa looked at a map on her electro-slate, deciding where and when they should call it quits for the day. Jaiden pulled out his electro-slate and typed something. Chelsa, absorbed with her map, didn’t notice Jaiden using his slate.

Since when did he retrieve his slate? Kristi thought.

“Jaiden, you never told me that you had your electro-slate the whole time. How’d you get it from jail? When did you—” Kristi stopped talking when Chelsa’s head jerked up.

“You brought your electro-slate?” Chelsa said.

“Yeah.” Jaiden brandished his slate in front of Chelsa, but snatched it back to his chest when she attempted to nick it out of his hands. “Is there a reason I can’t bring my electro-slate, when you can bring yours ?”

“Duh, there’s a reason why you shouldn’t have brought yours. I thought you knew electro-slates have trackers in them—the government could be tracking us this minute. I thought Perfects had their brains meddled with so they can be smarter , not dumber !”

Kristi, taken aback by Chelsa’s volatile moods, didn’t know whether she should jump into the argument or not.

“Then why do you have yours?” said Jaiden.

“Because I removed my tracker.”

Jaiden attempted to form a response and Chelsa took this as a chance to seize the electro-slate out of Jaiden’s hands, throw it onto the ground and stomp on it.

“Hey! Why’d you do that?” Jaiden demanded, eyes flitting from the broken device and Chelsa.

“Were you not listening to my explanation?” Chelsa grounded the heels of her boots into the shattered remains of the slate, causing the shards to catch the rays of the setting sun.

They stood nose-to-nose, glaring at each other; Kristi could almost see smoke coming out of their ears. The way Jaiden and Chelsa were giving each other death-stares should’ve warned Kristi to keep out of this dispute, but the attention they were beginning to receive from passerbys convinced her otherwise.

“Guys, cool down a bit, alright? We should find some place to stay for the night.” She stepped between the staring contest, feeling Jaiden and Chelsa’s burning glares pass right through her.

Chelsa and Jaiden scowled at each other, neither willing to back off from the stare-down. Kristi exhaled slowly through her pursed lips and decided to blame the hot tempers she was witnessing on the stress created from the past few days.

She grabbed Jaiden’s wrist in her right hand and Chelsa’s wrist with her left hand, then pulled them apart.

“Stop fighting,” Kristi ordered. “Unless you haven’t noticed, you’re attracting attention from the residents.” She awkwardly dragged them down Rhine Lane, hoping to find a cheap inn to spend the night.

Jaiden tried to pry her fingers off his wrist. After a moment’s hesitation, Kristi released her grip, knowing Jaiden could easily remove her hand by force if he wanted to. Then she uncertainly loosened her clutch on Chelsa as well, not sure if Chelsa was going to punch Jaiden in the face or not. Chelsa clenched her fists, but didn’t lash out.

“Do you know where you are going?” Jaiden asked her. His voice was calm and steady, as if nothing had happened between him and Chelsa.

“No.”

Dazzling red lights flashed down upon them. A United Regions Homeland Security Helicopter hovered above them, its blades whirling at a demonic speed. The searchlight landed on them and an amplified voice rang out, “Stop where you are! Put your hands behind your head and lay down. We will shoot if necessary.”

“Look what your stupid slate did,” Chelsa hissed to Jaiden. “We’re lucky they hadn’t dispatched a helicopter earlier.”

“No time for arguing.” Kristi craned back her neck, eyeing the chrome belly of the chopper.

“Split up and return to the intersection of Rhine Lane and Route 56 once you’re sure you’ve lost the law enforcement,” said Chelsa. She turned on her heels and swirled away in the cityscape.

“Want to come with me?” Jaiden asked.

“It’s better if we split up,” Kristi said, waving away Jaiden. “Go now. I’ll be fine.”

Jaiden cast a doubtful look at her but heeded the advice when she gave him a slight push. The searchlight brightened, tightening its focus on Kristi. She scrunched her eyes against the beacon.

“I repeat. Put your hands behind your head and lay down. We will shoot if necessary,” the speakers attached beneath the chopper blared.

Well, Kristi decided, she wasn’t about to be caught so easily. She raced out of the beam and dodged between two apartment buildings. The few civilians that were wandering the streets so close to curfew scuttled into the nearest building and locked the doors.

“Stop running!” the speakers crackled once more. “You will face fewer consequences if you come with us peacefully.”

In your dreams. She tore through the narrow streets, staying in the shadows of buildings as often as possible. A gunshot was fired into the air as a warning.

She peeked behind her; several law enforcement officers searched the streets of Alma. Each officer shone his or her flashlight down every nook and cranny. They kicked the trashcans lining the streets and peered under the porches in front of the houses.

Somehow, Kristi always managed to stay just out of reach of their flashlights. Spotting a stack of empty fruit crates, she darted behind the rotting wood. The stench of overripe apples, bananas and pears clogged up her nose, forcing her to breath through her mouth.

Kristi crossed her fingers and wished for all the officers to bypass her. And most of them did—they walked right by without giving a second look at the fruit crates. Except for one officer who stared at her hiding spot a few seconds too long for comfort.