Margaret Haddix - Among the Brave

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From School Library Journal Grade 5–8. This fifth book about third-born children who must go into hiding to avoid elimination picks up where 
S & S, 2003) ended. The ruthless head of the Population Police has taken over the government, and executions are common. Trey has gone to Mr. Talbot's home seeking help to rescue Luke and his other third-born friends just as the man is taken away in handcuffs. Desperate, he teams up with Luke's older, more reckless brother, Mark, to try to find the others. Mark is caught and Trey enlists in the Population Police, his only hope of freeing him. To escape, the boys make a deal with a resistance member disguised as a guard to rescue a prisoner from another torture camp. The prisoner turns out to be none other than Mr. Talbot, who headed the resistance movement. Mark and Trey are able to rescue their friends, but are unable to help the guard who helped them. The adults are ready to give up but the third-born children vow to keep up the fight. Even though elements of the plot seem timeworn and not all of it is plausible, this book provides a fast and wild ride that will appeal to reluctant readers. Once again, Haddix makes real how hard ordinary and not-so-ordinary actions would be for kids who've spent most of their lives hidden away. Although this installment could be read on its own, this series works best when read in sequence.
— Tina Zubak, Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh, PA Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
From Booklist Gr. 4–7. Like its predecessors in the Shadow Children series, this novel concerns children hidden from society because their families have exceeded the strictly enforced, two-child limit. Trey struggles to survive during a dangerous political shift, as the most repressive faction of the government seizes power. On a personal level, Trey feels intense fear and increasing mistrust as he tries to maneuver in a world where he often cannot tell friend from foe. Haddix writes a compelling story, full of intrigue, danger, and adventure. The level of tension barely lets up, ensuring that "can't-put-it-down" headlong impulse to keep reading. Still, the constant tension gives individual scenes less impact than they might have had in a book with more contrast. Trey makes an interesting, sympathetic protagonist, reflective about his past, convincing in his outlook, and fundamentally alone even among his allies.  Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved

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“Thank you, sir,” Trey said, unable to believe his good luck

“And the prisoner in the truck,” the warden said. “I’ll write up an order to have him shot right now.”

“What?” The luxurious room seemed to be spinning slightly. Surely Trey hadn’t heard the warden properly. Surely his brilliant lies hadn’t led to this.

“For attacking a Population Police officer,” the warden said casually “It’s a capital offense, you know.”

And he reached for a pen.

Chapter Thirty

The room was truly spinning now. Mark was the one being sentenced to death, but it was Trey whose life flashed before his eyes. How could he have done this? How could he have rescued Mark — twice — only to see him killed here, now, just as he was about to be reunited with his brother?

“No!” Trey exploded.

“What did you just say to me?” the warden asked, his pen hesitating over the paper.

“I mean, ‘No, sir' I mean—” Trey scrambled to think “The prisoner certainly deserves to die. Not because he attacked me, but because he showed no respect for me, as an officer of the Population Police. Still… the warden at Churko has personal reasons for wanting to… to torture this particular prisoner. And for wanting to oversee his death himself.”

‘Ah,” the warden said. He seemed to be considering. “I see.” He reached for a different paper from one of the stacks on his desk. “Then I’ll order that our infirmary sets his leg and gives him medicine. So that he lives long enough for my colleague at Churko to see him tortured.”

Trey watched in awe as the warden scribbled out an order and summoned an underling over the intercom on his desk.

What kind of person is willing to kill or save a boy’s life on a whim, just like that? Trey wondered. What kind of government allows someone to have that kind of power, all by himself?

A uniformed guard showed up at the door and entered without speaking. The warden looked at him disapprovingly

“Nedley, drive this man’s vehicle over to the infirmary and have his prisoner treated there,” the warden said. “Officer Jackson, you can give him your keys.”

“I–I feel responsible for the prisoner, sir,” Trey said. “I’ll drive him there myself, if you just tell me where to go.”

“Oh, no,” the warden said. “Son, you need to learn about chain of command. Mark my words, you’re going to advance high up in the Population Police, and you need to learn to delegate. Nedley — do as I say!”

Trey saw no choice but to hold the keys out to the silent Nedley.

What’s going to happen when they discover that Mark isn’t really chained up? Trey wondered. What if this is all a trick? What’s Mark going to do when this strange officer climbs into the truck?

But that last worry, at least, proved unnecessary Trey glanced out the window and could see: Mark appeared to have passed out from the pain once again.

“Oh, and Nedley?” the warden was continuing. “Gas up his vehicle before you bring it back.”

“Yes, sir,” Nedley said in a dispirited voice.

Trey watched anxiously as Nedley climbed into the truck, started it, and pulled away. The warden misread Trey’s concern.

“So good to see a young recruit taking his responsibilities seriously,” the warden mumbled. “I will request that you be transferred here after you deliver your prisoners to Churko. This is a much more prestigious posting. See this phone here?” He pointed to a dark, heavy phone that seemed to occupy a place of honor in the center of his spotless desk. “I’ve got a direct, secure line that goes straight to Population Police headquarters. I’m talking to the highest-level officials constantly Out at Churko — bahl I bet half the time headquarters forgets they’re there.”

“Your status is impressive, sir,” Trey said politely, though he was distracted worrying about Mark, worrying about Lee and the others, worrying about the mysterious prisoner he was supposed to take back to the guard at Population Police headquarters.

We don’t need that prisoner to trade for the key to Mark’s cage anymore, They realized with a jolt If I can get all of us out of here safely, what should we do with the extra prisoner? Leave him by the side of the road for the mobs to attack?

And then Trey felt a wave of shame. He was thinking like a true Population Police officer, seeing human life as disposable. He swayed slightly, suddenly feeling faint.

The warden was still talking about the glories of the Nezeree prison.

“We’re a model for the entire system, I tell you — oh, just put it over there. Dismissed.”

An aide had come in with a new uniform for Trey. The warden glanced at his watch as the aide put the uniform down on a chair and silently departed.

“It’s time for my morning inspection of the barracks,” the warden said. “I am never late. Tell you what. You go back into my personal quarters and take a shower and change. Have some breakfast, too, if you like. I’ll be back momentarily. And we’ll have those prisoners ready for you in a flash.”

“Yes, sir,” Trey said. He picked up the clean clothes and went through the door the warden indicated. But his legs were rubbery, and his mind felt equally numb.

What are they doing to Mark right now, while I’m getting a nice, hot shower? How long until Lee gets here? What if we can’t pull this off?

A tiny, tiny part of his brain suggested slipping out the nearest window and finding a place to hide, but he ignored that impulse. He undressed and stepped into the shower instead, turning the water on full blast.

If they see through my bluff at least I’ll die clean, Trey thought bitterly. The warden would like that.

The hot water did seem to clear his brain. For the first time he noticed that the water faucet handles were pure crystal, the showerhead was shiny brass. After he’d toweled off and gotten dressed again, he used the towel to wipe out the expensive-looking tiles of the shower floor and walls. He soaked up every last drop of water so it looked as though the shower had never been used. The last thing he needed was to upset the warden over something stupid like a messy shower. He deliberated about what to do with his old, filthy uniform, and finally tucked it into a waste can hidden under the sink.

He was halfway out the bathroom door when he remembered the Grants’ and the Talbots’ papers, still tucked in the old uniform’s pockets.

Surely they don’t matter now, he thought. He was dangerously close to thinking that nothing else mattered either, that he and his friends were doomed, regardless. But he forced himself to turn around anyway and rescue the papers yet again. He stuffed them into a hidden pocket in his new uniform.

If I can save the papers, maybe I can save my friends, too, he told himself superstitiously.

And then he was antsy, wandering from room to room, fretting about when the warden would come back, when Mark would reappear, when the prisoners would arrive.

How bizarre, Trey thought. I don’t know how to sit still anymore.

He forced himself to choke down two English muffins and a bowl of cereal in the small but well-stocked kitchenette, but it was more out of necessity than desire. Though he knew he needed the energy, he couldn’t force himself to concentrate even on food.

When he was up and wandering again, he noticed voices coming from behind a closed door just down the hallway from the warden’s office. Thinking the warden had returned — or that maybe his friends had finally arrived— he leaned toward the door to listen.

“. . at the top of our news. .” a voice was saying.

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