Margaret Haddix: Among the Enemy

Matthias's ears were recovering a little, enough that he could catch snatches of the Population Police officials' conversation.

"Seventeen rebels, just as our informant said," a harsh voice said.

"Fools."

Matthias could see the man who said that. He seemed to be leaning over one of the bodies, the way someone might lean over and kiss a child's forehead.

This man spat on the dead body instead.

"What do we do with them now?" somebody asked. "Carry them back with us?"

'Are you kidding? Don't you remember how far we had to hike to get here? I'm not carrying any corpse five miles in the dark."

"What's wrong? Scared of ghosts?" someone teased.

"Scared of getting blood on my uniform. Tell me again why we didn't just drive here?"

"The element of surprise was necessary," a steely voice said. It must have belonged to the group's leader, because everyone else fell silent. "Here's what we do. Take their I.D. cards, then pile these bodies by the side of the road. Then somebody — you, Sanders — make a sign. We want everyone who comes by here to see what happens to rebels."

"What should the sign say?" a timid voice asked. "They was rebels'?"

"No, no," the leader said impatiently. "We don't want anyone thinking it's possible to rebel."

"But—"

"The sign will say, 'Enemies of the People.' Now do it!" '

"Yes, sir!"

The officers scurried to obey.

Matthias watched with a growing sense of fear. He could see where they were piling the bodies, and any second he expected to see Percy's striped flannel pajama pants, or his black shoes with the hole in only one sole. Percy had been so proud of those shoes, the best he'd ever owned in all his life.

Without realizing it, Matthias had been counting each thud of every dead body landing on the pile. At the same time that he reached seventeen, the Population Police officers stepped back, as though their work was done.

Matthias had seen no striped pajamas, no holey shoes. But it was nearly dark — how could he be sure?

"Do you think he'll let us go now?" someone whined.

"Sir, should we search the rest of the area?" another man asked.

Matthias held his breath.

"No," the leader decided. "We did what we came to do. We could spend our whole lives looking through this wasteland, and for what? Back to headquarters! Now!"

The Population Police officers melted back into the woods on the other side of the road, as silently as if they were shadows themselves.

"Matt-Matt," Alia murmured.

"Shh," Matthias said. "Wait."

It was too dark now to see Alia's face; he couldn't be sure if she was awake or not. He couldn't be sure what she'd heard or what she understood. He waited long, agonizing minutes, in case the Population Police came back. Then he whistled a soft imitation of a whip-poor-will. He and Percy had used that as a signal many times before.

Poor-will! Poor-will! echoed below him. Except it wasn't an echo. It was Percy.

Matthias felt like screaming for joy, rushing down the hill immediately. But he stopped himself. He picked up Alia again and inched through the darkness. He had to call and wait for Percy's answer again and again. Each call and response unnerved him. Percy should have been moving toward Matthias as Matthias moved toward him, so they could meet halfway. But Percy's Poor-will! Poor-will! stayed in one spot.

Finally, after what felt like hours of stumbling through near-total darkness, Matthias thought he was close enough to whisper.

"Percy?"

A hand grabbed Matthias's ankle. Matthias crouched awkwardly, almost thrown off balance by the weight of Alia's body. He felt around on the ground. Dead leaves, furry moss, Percy's bloody leg…

Bloody?

"Percy!" Matthias hissed, fear overriding caution. "What happened to you?"

"Bullet," Percy said. It sounded like he was talking through clenched teeth. "Shot."

And then Matthias felt Percy's head loll over to the side, against Matthias's shoe.

Percy had passed out.

As well as he could, Matthias tried raising Percy's head up again. But it was impossible to balance Alia on his lap and lift Percy at the same time.

"Percy, no, I need you," he argued.

He remembered how Samuel had always said, "God will never give you more than you can bear." But how could Matthias bear this? Both Percy and Alia injured and in such great pain and maybe dying…

"Oh, God, no," Matthias whispered, or maybe he was crying. He reached out for Percy's leg again, as if he believed his plea would make the wound miraculously heal itself. But blood was still seeping out along the gash in Percy's pajama pants. Lots of blood. Percy whimpered and jerked away from Matthias's hand.

Shouldn't touch, germs, infection, Matthias thought in a jumbled way. He was too horrified to think clearly, but the words "soap and water" fought their way into his mind.

I’m in the wilderness! Where am I supposed to find soap and water? he wanted to shout. But then the answer came to him.

The cabin.

If Matthias had stopped to consider how hard it would be to get both Alia and Percy down to the cabin, he might have given up right then. But the thought that kept cycling through his mind was, Can't leave Alia, can't leave Percy, can't leave Alia, can't leave Percy. . If he put Alia down to carry Percy, she might freeze to death before he could come back. If he left Percy behind and took Alia first, he might not be able to find Percy again in the dark. And then he'd have to wait for the morning light, and Percy could have bled to death by then.

What if Percy bled to death anyhow?

Don't think about that, he commanded himself.

He forced himself to concentrate on shifting Alia's limp body to one side, so he could support her with just one arm looped around her waist. With his other arm he reached down — awkwardly, almost toppling over — and wedged his hand under Percy's armpit. And then he began dragging both of them downhill.

He made slow, torturous progress, and both of them whimpered and moaned and cried out in their sleep, in pain. He was of two minds about their cries. At least they were still alive — but, oh, how could he be the one hurting them?

The trek down the hill took so long, Matthias was almost surprised when he lifted his head and saw a wall of logs directly in front of him. He had a moment of worry-ing that there might be Population Police guards remaining behind in the cabin — or perhaps more rebels left alive who might feel no friendlier toward Matthias than they did toward the Population Police. But he was too desperate to give that worry much thought.

"Just a — little — farther," he grunted to his two friends, even though they probably couldn't hear him.

He dragged them around to the front of the cabin and then lifted them, one by one, over the splintered door.

Inside the cabin was utter darkness.

Well, of course it is. What did I expect?

The last, lingering light of dusk illuminated only the first few inches inside the shattered doorway. Even as Matthias huddled there with Percy and Alia, that light seemed to fade and disappear.

We've survived in darkness before, Matthias reminded himself. For most of their time in Population Police prison, they'd been in an underground dungeon and had gone for days without seeing sunlight.

Percy and Alia weren't injured then, Matthias thought. And we had candles that we could light in an emergency.

Maybe there were candles in the cabin as well.

Even though every muscle in his body cried out in exhaustion, Matthias forced himself to reach out and grope around on the floor. He tried not to think about how many people had just died in the cabin. saying that somehow gave him the courage to keep reaching out, keep grasping for hope. All he asked for was a single candle and a single match, although a flashlight would be easier to work with. And he certainly wouldn't complain if he found medical supplies just lying around, waiting for him….