Frozen by Erin Bowman

now, not horses.”
    “Where are you headed?”
    “Haven,” Clipper says.
    “You’re pretty far south of home. Where are you coming from?”
    “Even farther south, ma’am,” Clipper continues. “A small town in the Southern Sector. We have family there.”
    “So you’re all related?” the male asks.
    “My son and nephew,” Owen says of Clipper and Xavier, which is believable enough.
    “And you chose to travel by boat and horse from Haven all the way to the Southern Sector?”
    “Not everyone living under a dome can afford to power a car. And a trip through the Wastes is desolate, too easy to get stranded without fuel. I don’t mean to pry, but was there a point to this questioning?”
    The stocky woman frowns. “Yes, there is.” She holds out a copy of the wanted poster. “We’re looking for this boy. We have reason to suspect he was heading west, possibly through this town or one of the others along the New Gulf.”
    Owen takes a moment to examine the photo. “I haven’t seen him.”
    “You’re positive?” the woman says, folding her arms across her chest. “This boy can be quite persuasive when necessary. If he promised you anything in exchange for silence, you should know he won’t keep his side of the bargain.”
    “I assure you we have never seen him,” my father says, “but if that changes, we’ll alert someone immediately. It’s no good, having a criminal like that running around.”
    “Too true,” she responds.
    “Are we free to go now? I’d hoped to trade these horses by midday.”
    “Yes. Thank you for your time.”
    They pass by, horses in tow, and I feel like air is finally returning to my lungs. Not a second later the door of the house is thrown open and Emma and Aiden stumble inside.
    “What are you doing?” I hiss at her as she closes the door.
    “We were one house over, but the owner came home and we had to sneak out a window.”
    I peer back onto the main street. The Order members are turning the corner, pointing at houses as they head up our side street.
    Emma reads my face. “They’re coming, aren’t they? This way?”
    We hear footsteps, boots against the hard-packed earth. Then a knock on our door.
    Jackson looks momentarily amused. He sold us out after all, just like Xavier suspected. But then the Forgery notices Aiden shaking in fear and his demeanor changes to something so close to worry that I reconsider the theory. Maybe the Order is simply doing what Jackson and Blaine were sent to do: intercept us.
    Another knock.
    “Don’t say anything,” I whisper. “They’ll leave eventually.”
    “Franconian Order!” the woman shouts from outside. “We’re sweeping all houses in this alley. You have twenty seconds to open your door or we will assume no one is home and open it ourselves.”
    “Let me talk to them,” Emma offers.
    “What? No!”
    “I’ll tell them I saw you across town or something. I can do this. It will be easy.”
    She looks so sure of herself, so confident. It’s her eyes: brilliant with hope, so steady she seems unstoppable. But I can’t have Emma risking herself like this for us. Frank might suspect she followed me back to Crevice Valley last fall, and just because I’ve only seen posters with my face on them doesn’t mean Frank didn’t create additional signage featuring hers.
    “Take Aiden into the back room,” I tell Emma. “Find a closet or something and stay put until I call for you.”
    “Let me do this.” Her voice is hard. Almost desperate.
    The door trembles under another pounding.
    “Emma, please don’t make me ask again.”
    She exhales sharply and takes Aiden into a side room just as the Order woman starts counting backward.
    Ten . . . Nine . . .
    The quarters are too tight to fire an arrow, so I grab a knife from the kitchen and face Jackson. “Open that door and tell them you saw me on the other side of town.”
    Eight . . . Seven . . .
    He eyes the knife in my hands. “You won’t be getting access