Children of the Uprising by Trevor Shane Page A

up in the bed, looking from Max to Addy and back again and saying nothing. The effect of the wine was wearing off and he was becoming tired.
    â€œYeah, but he’s not everybody,” Addy said. “He’s different from the rest of us. The world needs him to be Christopher.”
    Christopher began to feel uncomfortable beneath their gazes, particularly Addy’s. “I’m tired, guys,” he said, trying to end the conversation.
    â€œFine,” Max said. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk about this later.” Then Max stood up and turned out the light. The room became dark except for the incoming light of the moon. “Good night, you two,” Max said and lay down on his makeshift bed.
    â€œGood night,” Addy answered.
    â€œGood night,” Christopher said last. Then they all lay there silently, waiting for sleep to creep up on them. Christopher was the last one to let go of consciousness.

Fourteen
    â€œThere are people here asking questions about you.”
    â€œWho?”
    â€œI don’t know. I mean, the police have been asking everybody questions, but there are other people too. I don’t know who the other people are.”
    â€œWhat have they been asking?”
    â€œThey’ve been asking if anybody knows how to get in touch with you or if anyone has any clues as to where you are or might have gone.”
    â€œWho have they asked?”
    â€œEverybody. You’d laugh if you saw the people they were asking, people you wouldn’t have been caught dead talking to. But mostly they’ve been concentrating on your parents, your teachers, and me. I think people might be following me. This town is getting really weird.”
They can’t hurt you,
Christopher almost assured Evan, remembering the rules that he’d read in his birth parents’ journals. He stopped himself, though. He didn’t have any faith in those rules. They seemed ludicrous. He wondered if he was putting Evan in danger merely by talking to him. They’d developed a system. Evan would text Christopher some sort of cryptic message that would have meaning only to the two of them. Then Christopher would call Evan the next chance he had to sneak away from Addy and Max. Christopher had turned the ringer off his phone. He was getting too many strange calls. He was nervous that people might be able to track him by his cell phone, but he wasn’t ready to give it up. It was the only connection he still had to home.
    â€œWhen did it start?” Christopher asked Evan.
    â€œThe police have been asking questions since the day you left. The others came, I don’t know, three days ago, two days after the police.”
    â€œHow long have they been following you?”
    â€œEver since they got here, I think. Maybe before I even knew they were here.”
    â€œHas anybody threatened you?”
    â€œNo. They’re nice, just fucking creepy. When are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
    â€œI can’t now, not if people are asking you questions. It would make it too dangerous. How are my folks?”
    â€œThe same.” Christopher felt his chest tighten. The same wasn’t good. He supposed it could be worse, though. He hadn’t called his parents since he and Max were holed up in the hotel room in Montreal. That was more than five days ago. Now that Christopher knew that people had been questioning them, he was sure that he’d made the right decision. He could only imagine what people would do to them if it seemed like they knew something. He’d have to wait. He didn’t know how long.
    â€œTell them that you’re sure I’m okay.”
    â€œI will,” Evan assured Christopher. He paused, then said, “Are you okay?”
    â€œMaybe we shouldn’t talk for a while,” Christopher answered. “Maybe it’s too dangerous.”
    â€œFuck you,” Evan replied, to Christopher’s relief.