The Water Wars

“Vera,” he whispered.

 

“Will!”

 

“Where are we?”

 

I explained we were in the back of a hover-carrier, traveling with PELA along the Canadian border.

 

“PELA?” he croaked.

 

“They blew up the dam,” I said. “It wiped out everything. Ulysses and the pirates are dead.”

 

Will shut his one open eye as if trying to block the loss, but when he opened both eyes, all he said was, “My leg hurts.” He reached down to pull up his trouser leg. His skin was red and raw, and blood and yellow fluid oozed down his calf. But a scab had begun to form around the edges, and purplish bruising mottled his shin.

 

“They gave you some medicine,” I said.

 

“Why would they do that?”

 

“They want to sell us.”

 

Healthy children of working age were needed at the drilling sites, Nasri had said. They were small enough to scramble down the narrow shafts but took in one-tenth the pay of adults. Plenty of orphans were apprenticed to the mines, their lives as miserable as the nineteenth-century urchins we’d learned about in school. As far as PELA was concerned, we were orphans they had found on the road.

 

“But we have parents!” protested Will.

 

“They don’t care. They just want money.”

 

“Maybe PELA kidnapped Kai.”

 

I had considered this. Several years ago three brothers were kidnapped from a Skate ’n’ Sand arena. They never returned, although rumors circulated that they were working for a drilling company on the Great Coast. This was why our father insisted that we shouldn’t talk to strangers and that we wi-text him when we were leaving school. But I didn’t think PELA had taken Kai. The environmentalists couldn’t have come into town without drawing notice, and it was too far south for them to venture anyway. PELA operated on the borders, near reservoirs and dams, where they could strike quickly then retreat.

 

“Wherever he is,” I said, “we’ve got to find him.”

 

“We’ve got to get out of here is what we’ve got to do.”

 

“Not without Kai.”

 

Will sat up on one elbow and drew his good leg beneath him. “Listen, Vera. We don’t know where he is, or who took him, or even if he’s gone. It was stupid to go chasing after him in the first place. Now if we don’t get out of here, the environmentalists are going to sell us—or worse.”

 

I blushed, feeling chastened by my brother’s words. But I refused to be cowed into agreement. “The pirates know where he is.”

 

“They’re dead. You said so yourself.”

 

“We don’t know for sure. Some are dead, but some may have survived.”

 

Will was a fighter. He would never give up—not when there was still a chance. He would lead his troops into battle and fight to his last breath. That’s why I couldn’t believe it when he said, “It’s hopeless.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“We’re in Canada, Vera. We’re prisoners in the country of our enemies. Even if we could find Kai, we can’t save him. How could we? Be realistic. We’re just two kids without any weapons, and we’ll be lucky to get out of here with our own lives.”

 

“No, Will. Don’t say that!”

 

“It’s true. Look at me. My leg is infected. I need a doctor. Our parents probably think we’re dead. We have to forget about Kai and the river. We have to get home!”

 

When other kids couldn’t raise another bucket, Will kept lifting. When they thought the condensers were emptied, Will found the last drop. He was always the first to volunteer and the last to leave. Yes, he was injured, and our situation was desperate, but we were not so far gone that all hope was lost.

 

“Kai is our friend,” I said. “You can try to get home—if you want—but I’m going to stay here until I find him.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re locked in the back of a truck.”

 

“I don’t care! I’m going to get out.” I walked to the rear doors of the carrier and banged on the handles as hard as I could. They wouldn’t budge. Even if I could force the doors open, the carrier was traveling at hundreds of kilometers an hour, and the fall to the ground would surely kill me. But the only thing that mattered right then was getting out. I tried prying at the bars that covered two small windows on each side of the truck, but the metal was cold and unyielding. I stamped my feet on the floor as hard as I could.

 

“Open the doors!” I shouted. It made me angry that people could simply kill other people, take what they wanted, and ignore the cries of the sick and hungry. The world wasn’t like that—or it shouldn’t be like that—even though I hadn’t seen enough of the world to know what it was really like. I pounded at the fortified steel until my wrists felt like breaking. “Open the doors!” I shouted again. “This is wrong! You are wrong! Open the doors!”

 

Suddenly Will was beside me, leaning on my shoulder for support. “Stop, Vera. Stop. I’ll help you.”

 

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