Dissidence by Jamie Canosa Page B

around my back and across my waist, holding me close. Despite my still damp clothing, I feel warm. Really warm actually. I squirm out from under his blanketing embrace, and Connor wakes with a drawn out yawn.
    “ Mornin ’ , Sunshine.” Connor grins when I roll my eyes at him. “Sorry I fell asleep.”
    “We survived.” I shrug. I’m beginning to wonder what exactly is supposed to be out here that’s so scary.
    The sun inches into the sky little by little, and as it rises, so does the temperature. When we’re certain we won’t freeze to death in our wet clothes, we peel ourselves off the ground, and head east once more. Everything , the leaves, the grass, the bushes, everything seems to shimmer as the sun reflects off of the billions of raindrops still clinging to every available surface. It’s beautiful, like bein g inside a kaleidoscope. There’ s something almost magical about the forest after the rain. It keeps me entranced as we trudge on.
    At some point , I think we’ re supposed to turn north, but I haven’t the slightest idea when. Lori was supposed to be our navigator. Thus far, I’ve been following Connor’s lead. The terrifying thought that maybe Connor has only been following my lead this whole time occurs to me just as we near the top of an in cline, and it springs into view. A tall, chain link fence.
     
     
    Chapter 12
     
    Every colony has one, or so I’ve been told. Although I’m not entirely sure what exactly it’s supposed to be protecting us from, considering that after nearly a week of hiking through these woods the scariest thing we laid our eyes on was maybe an owl. The only thing the fence is effectively keeping out at the moment is us.
    “How are we going to get in?” Not to state the obvious or anything but . . . “ We can’t exactly just knock on the main gate.”
    “We follow the tracks.” Connor states this as though it should have been obvious, which, if I had re ally thought about it, I guess should have been. The trains are the only way in or out of the colony, so if we follow the tracks, we ought to be able to slip in through the station. At least one of us has given this some thought.
    It isn’t difficult to locate the tracks. A swath is cut through the woods, opening enough space for the supply trains to move easily between colonies . . . or between the work camps and colonies. It’s evening by the time we reach the cement platform where passengers and supplies are loaded and unloaded from the trains. It’s usually heavily guarded whenever a supply train rolls in, but considering we haven’t seen one all day , the station looks nearly deserted. From wher e we sit, crouched in the brush just south of the platform, I can make out two armed guards, but that’ s all, and neither of them look particularly interested in what they are supposed to be guarding.
    Connor and I agree to wait until nightfall before trying to sneak inside, but I’m finding it difficult being so close and yet so far. The last time I was in my home colony , I stood less than fifty yards from where I am now , right there on that platform with Peter. He was begging me not to go, and I told him I’d write. I wonder what he thought when he never got my letter. I wonder what he’ll think when he hears everything I have to tell him now.
    “Sit still, would ya ? You’re starting to make me crazy.” I hadn’t even realized I was bouncing on the balls of my feet until Connor spoke up.
    “Sorry.” I settle back down beside him, trying to contain myself. I just can’t wait for this nightmare to be over. “You think it’s dark enough?”
    “I guess so. Besides, if we stay here any longer, I think you may explode.” Connor chuckles quietly when I whack him on the arm.
    “Let’s go then.”
    The platform is nothing more than a slab of cement protruding about four feet above the tracks. Getting up there should prove interesting. I slap my hands down on the platform, and I try to haul myself up