Sneak
“It’s better than the woods,” Logan told himself, emerging from the shadows and finding some small comfort in the thought. He had to wipe his face on his sleeves so the tears wouldn’t freeze to his cheeks, but he laughed a little and said it again. “It’s better than the woods, and the view here is nice tonight.” He looked out as he said it. Beside him, the water at the Ruins’ edge stretched all the way to the horizon, peaceful and frozen and smooth. A soft wind slid over the ice, hitting Logan with waves of clear blue chill, and he could feel the Lake Michigan air lodging, jagged, in his throat. Three months ago, Logan Paul Langly could not have imagined he’d wind up here. Three months ago, Logan Paul Langly was a normal kid with a normal life. He went to school, he mostly did his homework, and like all kids his age, he waited patiently for his thirteenth birthday—the day he would finally be Marked. By now, Logan should have been a full American Union citizen with full American Union benefits. But instead, he was here, a Markless fugitive stranded and alone—and that was the least of his worries. Growing up, Logan had always thought of New Chicago as being familiar and close. He and his family had visited often to see his grandmother on birthdays or for the Inclusion Day parades. New Chicago always reminded him of cakes from his aunt and uncle’s bakery downtown, of school trips to museums or family trips to sights and shops. He had felt like he belonged there. It had felt almost as much like home as Spokie did. But New Chicago did not feel like home tonight. And Logan did not belong anywhere now. “Hands out, hotshot!” Logan spun in the direction of the voice behind him. “I said hands out!” 5
Sneak.indd 5
6/22/12 4:09 PM