The Farther Shore by Matthew Eck

The Farther Shore by Matthew Eck

Author:Matthew Eck [Eck, Matthew]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Milkweed Editions
Published: 2011-12-25T22:00:00+00:00


We walked downstairs to talk with Michael. He said again that trying to steal a car in this town definitely wasn’t a good idea. He said the bus would bring us better luck.

“Do you know how to get out of the city?” he asked.

When we shook our heads, he waved us toward the front door with a flick of his wrist, as if he were tossing something into the trash.

“We need your car,” Santiago said.

“You mean you’re taking my car,” he shot back. He clasped his hands, rubbing them violently together. “I could have turned you in for the reward. You killed two boys, it’s all over the city. They’re looking for you, and they’ll find you eventually, even if they have to follow you home. They’ll get your names somehow and find you there. This is a sick place.”

He wasn’t threatening us, really. He was simply making an observation. We’d heard this before, how trouble could follow you home from the war.

“They know you’re still here because they saw the helicopters turn back after they shot one of them down.” He was too angry to look at us as he spoke.

I wanted to tell him that what had happened with those two boys was an accident, and that I had nothing to do with it. But I didn’t say a thing.

Then he said again that we’d never make it in a car. There were checkpoints and tolls throughout the city. We’d be dead as soon as they saw us. He said we could disguise ourselves as much as we liked, but when they spoke to us and we didn’t answer they’d shoot us. “You’d have better luck taking the bus,” he said. “People leave you alone when you ride on the trucks and buses here.” He looked up from his hands. “Besides, I gave my car to a friend because I knew you’d ask.”

“Where can we find a car?” asked Santiago.

“How will you know where to go?” Michael asked. “All the roads leading out of the city are mined. You don’t just drive in a town like this. You have to know where to go.”

“I’ve got a map,” Santiago said. His confidence was obviously false. I’d seen the look before, when Santiago was drunk and trying to pick up a woman at the bar.

“Do you even know where your Army has gone?” Michael asked. “They’re moving to a small city north of here to wait out the monsoon. Everyone here knows.”

Santiago cursed under his breath, then turned and walked out the front door. Zeller and I followed.



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