Chapter 10: Price of Freedom

Freedom is never free.

~Anonymous

You wouldn't think of the Wastelands as bright. It would seem it must be a dark, dark place, blocked from the sun with clouds of sulfur. But it was bright. It was almost blinding! Hot lava was a lot brighter than one might think if they'd never seen it before. Aerrow's eyes would start to water if he stared at it too long.

The heat of the lava, bubbling up from the very heart of the world, made the air so warm that it simmered no matter where they were, even if they were in a rocky clearing. Soon Aerrow and Finn were taking their shirts off, trying to cool off. Finn let his drop to the ground and left it there.

But the worst part of it was the air. Full of poisonous gases, it made them cough every now and then, and as hours went by, it seemed like their lungs were starving for fresh air. Their eyes and noses stung. Finn said they should put their shirts over their mouths and noses, but Aerrow reminded him that only worked when they were wet with water. Which they had none.

So for hours they wandered aimlessly, Aerrow in the lead. "Do you have any idea where you're going?" Finn asked.

"Uh . . ." Aerrow glanced back at him, wanting to give him an honest answer but not sure how Finn would react to one.

"You don't, do you? You led us out here without the slightest idea of where we should go?"

Aerrow smiled sheepishly. "We did everything else unplanned," he said.

"Yeah," Finn agreed. "We had unplanned details. What about the rest of the main plan? What do expect us to do, climb up a terra?"

Aerrow shrugged. "If you want to go back, be my guest." He kept walking, and Radarr followed.

"Hey," Finn called after him, suddenly afraid of being alone. "Hey, wait up!"

Aerrow was wandering aimlessly and probably had a good chance of getting them lost and dying of thirst. But he did have a search in mind. He was looking for water. Problem was, he had no idea where to look. Maybe a terra? Surely they wouldn't find water here, but it could be flowing off hospitable ground. "Look for a terra," he told Finn.

Finn rolled his eyes. "I wasn't serious about climbing out."

"I know," Aerrow said. "I'm not saying we should climb. I just want you to yell if you see a terra."

"But how would that . . . ?"

"Finn!"

"Okay, okay! Chill, dude. The Finnster's got it."

As they kept walking, though, Aerrow knew Finn had other things on his mind than a terra. "I'm hungry," he told Aerrow. "What are we going to eat?"

"Whatever we can find," Aerrow answered glumly.

"I'm really, really thirsty!" Finn continued to complain.

Aerrow swallowed, trying to wet his dry throat. They all were thirsty. The sooner they found water, the better.

A few minutes later . . . "My feet hurt!"

Finn again.

Then . . . "I'm tired."

"Keep moving, Finn."

A little later . . . "Are we there yet?"

"Do you see a terra?"

"No."

"Then no, we're not."

Finn groaned. "I'm hungry."

Aerrow rolled his eyes.

They found a terra. They circled it. They studied it. No water.

They found a little mini-terra. It looked like it might even be rocky and bare on top. No water.

"I'm thirsty."

"I know, Finn!"

Still a long while later, Radarr sniffed the air and churred excitedly. He pulled on Aerrow's pant leg and pointed frantically at the base of another terra before scurrying toward it. "Radarr, wait for us!" Aerrow called after him, afraid of being separated as he scrambled after the creature. Finn stumbled along behind them.

When at last Aerrow caught Radarr, the little guy had stopped at the mouth of a cave in the terra's cliff side. There, pouring out of the wall, was an underwater stream of fresh water.

Delighted at the sight, the two boys stumbled in and drank greedily. After a few swallows, though, Finn began to spit it out. "It tastes bad!" he spat, wiping his tongue.

Radarr's nose was curled up at it. He had also tasted it and found it vulgar.

Aerrow nodded in agreement. "Sulfur," he said.

"This whole place is sulfur!" Finn complained.

Aerrow looked again at the water. Bad as it tasted, he was so thirsty. "Well, beggars can't be choosers," he said with a shrug. He again started to drink, with Radarr waiting behind him.

Finn just frowned and crossed his arms as if to pout. "I hate being a beggar," he muttered.

When Aerrow awoke, he couldn't tell how long he slept, how long they'd been there. He sniffed the air to make sure the whole escape hadn't been a dream. The air made him cough.

He raised his head to look around. Aerrow had used his clothes as a pillow and had given some to Finn to use as well. The bag he had carried them in was soiled and lying just out of reach. Finn lay next to him in arm's reach, and Radarr was curled next to him, not wanting to touch him because of the heat.

Slowly, trying not to wake the others, Aerrow eased himself up and tried to catch his bearings. His stomach was aching, and he wished he'd thought of some way to feed them all. It had seemed like such an easy situation when he had planned the escape. He thought the worst was over once they got out. But he could see now that this would be the difficult part of the journey. They had to find some way out of the Wastelands toward some sort of hospitable place, maybe even civilization. The likelihood of that happening seemed slim. And without that happening, there was no way they could survive. They couldn't even breathe here!

He looked over at the trickling stream behind him. He didn't want to have to leave this place, where he knew there was water, but he certainly didn't want to stay here. If the others didn't get up soon, he'd wake them himself, and then they'd have to be off.

But where? Was there anywhere to go? Perhaps they really should try to climb this terra. At least they knew it had water.

But as he looked up at the terra's jagged cliff face, he knew it would be impossible for them to climb all the way to the top. Besides, although he knew he and Radarr could get a little way, he wasn't sure Finn could get up at all.

He sat down with his back against the terra, trying to clear his head, trying to think. It was hard when he couldn't even breathe fresh air.

Maybe this was crazy. Maybe he had doomed them to die. Maybe there was no way out this.

He shook his head to clear it. Those thoughts would get him nowhere. Whether or not they should have come, they were here now, and that's all that mattered. Now, instead of dwelling on the past, he needed to make a decision about what to do next.

He heard a yawn and padding feet and looked toward the cave entrance. Radarr was crawling out, looking only half awake. When he saw Aerrow, his ears tilted toward him, and he churred in greeting.

Aerrow blinked in surprise. "Radarr," he said, "you're wearing your old clothes!"

Radarr nodded happily and stood up on two legs, showing him his outfit. He had taken off the prison uniform and was wearing the one he used to wear before they were captured.

Aerrow looked down at his own grungy, red-and-brown-striped prison uniform. "Do you think one of those leather uniforms would fit me now?" he asked Radarr.

Radarr looked him over, studying him, before squawking and giving him thumbs up.

Aerrow was immediately up and back in the cave. He looked around at the uniforms in front of him. All had blue in them, but they also had second colors, and for each one they were different. The one with green was way too big. Finn was using that for a pillow, anyway. The one with orange was a girl's outfit.

That left only the one with red and the one with brown. But which one?

Aerrow picked them both up, studying each. The blue-and-brown suit looked dull. Besides, red would match his hair and it was his favorite color, besides blue, of course.

Quickly taking off his clothes and hoping Finn wouldn't wake up, Aerrow pulled on his knew leather uniform. It was a little loose on him, but that meant he had growing room. Otherwise, it was great. At first he felt kind of hot, but then he realized that he didn't feel slammed with heat now that he had it on. Even though it was thicker and warmer, it actually acted like a barrier to the heat. It would probably keep him cooler in the long run. And should they ever come into cold weather, it would insulate him. A great traveling outfit!

The uniform also came with gloves. Carefully he slipped them over his calloused hands. The fingers were a bit too long, but they fit well enough that he'd manage.

He went outside with Radarr as soon as he was done. "How do I look?"

Radarr squawked happily and gave him more thumbs up.

Aerrow smiled. "Not bad, huh?"

"Would you two be quiet? I can't sleep!"

Aerrow looked over his shoulder into the cave. "Finn!" he called. "I was just about to wake you up!"

Finn groaned and sat up. Then his eyes widened. "Hey, what the heck are you two wearing?"

"We put on some of the outfits!" Aerrow said happily. He'd already told Finn about the clothes he'd brought from home long before they had escaped. "You want to try one on? The one with brown might work for you."

Finn sat up and looked him over. Aerrow could tell he was grumpy . . . probably because he was tired and hungry. "It looks hot," he said. "I'll roast."

"Actually, they keep you cooler," Aerrow said. "Come on, just try it on." He threw him the outfit.

Finn caught it in one hand and then frowned at Aerrow. "Well, don't just stand there! Give me privacy!"

Aerrow rolled his eyes and walked away. It wasn't like he was going to watch Finn change, anyway.

Finn came out a few minutes later, wearing gloves and all, although his gloves had open fingers. "It's kind of big on me," he said.

"Mine, too," Aerrow answered. "But that means that they'll fit perfectly when we're older."

"When we're older, we better not be living like this."

"We won't," Aerrow promised. Although he was a lot less certain than he sounded.

The escapees weren't the only ones waking up. The prison was waking up, too, and hours earlier, they had received a report that the replacement guards had found the other two guards unconscious at the end of their shift in the middle of the night. Already Buteo and his men were in thorough investigation.

Buteo was just sorting through papers on his desk when a Talon stepped in, bringing with him three prison boys. "These boys would like to speak with you," the Talon said. "One says he knows how the runaways escaped."

"Does he now?" Buteo answered, setting his papers down. "Then why doesn't he come alone?"

"They came as a group, sir," was the Talon's only explanation.

"Very well," Buteo asked, too tired to bother drilling in on that tiny point. "What can any of you tell me about the runaways?"

An orange-haired boy with a fat, ugly face stepped forward. "I know the one who led them," Grimsley said, smirking. "Aerrow, 1309, the one with the critter. He, his critter, and his friend must have headed through the tunnel of the Fire Pit."

Buteo smirked at the idea. "If they had gone there, we would have found them already. Probably dead, if they dared get far beyond our search area." He raised his head a little. "What makes you think they used the Fire Pit?"

"Aerrow talked about it," Grimsley answered. "He's crazy like that."

"Is that all you know?" Buteo asked, now starting to look intrigued.

Grimsley turned to Kite and Twister. "You two know anything else?"

Twister's face tightened as he tried to think. What should he say, if he should say anything?

Grimsley might have noticed Twister's reaction. Or maybe he just knew Twister. Either way, he turned to him and said, "Twister, you normally hear everything. Know anything about last night?"

Twister thought a moment. He wasn't dumb enough to give himself away, but he could say that he heard Aerrow opening his and Finn's doors automatically. It would even be the truth. But should he?

As he looked at Grimsley, who was waiting expectantly with his arms crossed, and at the powerful, mighty Talons around him who he wanted to be, Aerrow's words rang in his head: You've got your loyalties seriously mixed up.

Twister clenched his fists. He knew where his loyalties lay, and he knew who he was. He would not go down. He would go by way of the winning path.

He looked Grimsley right in the eye. "I heard doors opening," he admitted, "as if by a key . . . or nametag."

Grimsley turned to Buteo triumphantly.

Buteo was more than interested by now. He looked over at one of his Talons. "Was not 1309 the very prisoner who stole a nametag from one of our men?"

"I believe so, sir," the Talon answered.

The lead Talon nodded and got to his feet, putting his hands behind his back. "Good. Assemble a search party. I want them to check below the abandoned tunnel to see if there's any sign of the runaways. If not, they are to keep looking."

The Talon's eyes widened. "But sir," he argued, "send men into the Wastelands?"

"Is that not what I said?" Buteo growled.

The Talon nodded quickly.

"It can't be that hard to hunt down two kids and their pet," Buteo muttered. "And when you assemble this search party, remind every soldier what happens when he dares to desert."

The Talon gulped and nodded again.

"And don't worry," Buteo assured him, reaching for a radio mike as he spoke. "I'll get the very man who caught the boy the first time to come lead the party."

"Sir," Grimsley said hesitantly, "what about us?"

"What about you?" Buteo asked impatiently.

"Sir," Grimsley said, now sounding overly respectful, "we . . . we have been thinking about perhaps forming a youth brigade. With your permission, of course, wonderful sir."

Buteo hated kiss-ups, but the boy and his friends did help him get a lead on the runaways, and they certainly seemed as devoted to Cyclonia as prisoners could be. He nodded to his lower Talon. "See to it also," he said, "that we suggest another youth brigade."

"Yes, sir."

Author's Notes: Twister's role is growing. I hadn't meant for that to happen, but oh well. I sort of like him. He's a much more conflicted kid-villain than Grimsley.

Up next, I'm going to bring in another future-Storm Hawk! I'll leave you guys to wonder which one . . .