Chapter 9

Chapter 9
          Camille
       I am astonished by the offer. He obviously isn't a Forsaken, but he is still a stranger. Crime hardly occurs in our city, aside from the Forsaken territory. Our City Council doesn't care about what occurs in the Forsaken's land. The Governors only worry about respectable citizens. There are occasionally robberies, and sometimes even murders. The criminal is always caught, though, and banished as a Forsaken. I don't know what keeps the Forsaken in their territory. There is nothing separating us and them. Maybe they know any further crimes will result in execution, so they keep to themselves. I consider the choice. I'm already vulnerable whether I am in his truck or out here. The only difference is that his truck will get me home faster. I bit my lip as I contemplate. The turmoil twists in my stomach. What do I have to lose? I'm planning on going into the Dead Mile. I'll probably be dead soon anyways. "Yes," I say, my voice sounding defeated.
"All right," he says, "Get in." I cross in front of the truck to the passenger side. I yank open the door and haul myself up into the seat, shutting the door behind me. "So, where to?"
He sensed my discomfort and said, "I'm not an axe murderer."
"Oh, you're not an axe murderer."
"That was a stupid choice of words. I'm not a murderer at all. I don't even kill the spiders in my basement," he claims. I can't help but smile at that. I quickly recompose myself and appreciate the fact that the truck's cabin is so dark. He taps a button on the inside of the cabin's roof and a yellow light illuminates the truck. I see the stranger for the first time. He looks like he is only a few years older than me. His face isn't too angular, though it isn't boyish either. His skin isn't too tan, nor too pale. His dark hair is cut short, with the front just a little longer than the rest. "I'm Colin," he states. Colin has big brown eyes the exact shade of chocolate.
"Camille."
"Where do you need to go, Camille?" I decide to tell him my street name, but not my exact address.
"You can drop me off at the end of the street."
"Okay," Colin says as he taps the button and the yellow light disappears. We sit in silence as the truck maneuvers through the tough terrain until he asks, "Why were you by yourself in the Forsaken territory?"
I sigh. "Well, I wasn't by myself until his car was stolen, and then we had to walk, but he was drunk. Then he started coming onto me, and when I said no he got angry and walked off," I ranted recapping my evening. I hadn't meant to let it out like that, but stress was building and I couldn't control it.
"Okay," he says slowly, "But why were you here anyway?"
"Well," I say hesitantly, "I wanted to see the Fence."
"Why? Don't tell me you're one of those, reckless, depressed losers that think coming to the Fence is cool."
"No! I just...had to see it."
"That's it? You 'just had to see it'?"
"Why do I have to explain myself to you, anyway?" I asked, getting irritated.
"I'm just wondering. No one comes to the Fence just to see it."
"Well...I wanted to see if there was a way out," I confess.
"What? I knew it! You are a reckless, depressed loser! Why would you want out into the Dead Mile?"
"Okay, I'm not a reckless, depressed loser! I have my reasons." I crossed my arms over my chest and stared out the window.
"What reason-other than being a reckless, depressed loser- makes a person want to go into the Dead Mile?"
"Never mind about me, what were you doing out here?"
"I work in the Security Control Room. I watch over the Fence." That gets my attention.
"So you just watch the Fence?" I ask.
"Yeah. It isn't very exciting, obviously."
"So, if there was a way out, you would know about it?" I couldn't help but asking.
"Yeah. If." He sounded as if it was impossible. I puffed out a disappointed sigh.
We sat in silence for another ten minutes until he confessed, "I do technically know a way out, but it would be treason to say exactly how."
"Treason? There's a law against it?" Why would they make a law against leaving? What trouble could a person cause by basically committing suicide? 
"Yeah. I don't know why. When I took the job in the Control Room, I had to sign a secrecy contract, make an oath and everything," he tells me, "I know the city inside and out, but I can't share what I know."
"What if you do?"
"I die." He states the unsettling fact as if it had no meaning.
"Well then why would you tell me you knew if you knew you couldn't tell me what you knew?" Why would he do that? To throw in my face that he won't tell me?
"Are you a riddle kind of girl?" He inquires.
"Yeah, I like riddles. So what?"
"I'm not a riddle-kind-of-guy, so I'll just give you a few hints. The first thing is that it rids our city of waste," he begins. Okay, so it is an it, not a where. "The next thing," he continues,"Is that it is mapped out underground." Underground? I don't know anything about underground. In school once, my teacher mentioned an underground system that flows sewage out of the city. Flows. A river? Stream? She refused to take the topic any further. She explained to the class that we wouldn't need that knowledge, so it would be pointless to discuss. "The last thing you should think about, is where rain drains to, and where the water that goes down the sink goes."
"Colin, I don't know what any of that means. It obviously is all describing one thing, but I don't know anything about what you are describing," I complain, frustrated. We are out of the Forsaken land now, but we continue driving through the poor housing area.
"If I give you one last hint, will you tell me why you want out?"
I may as well. "Fine. I got a note after school. I don't know who sent it, but they said that they have my brother in the Dead Mile, and if I don't come for him within seventy-two hours, they'll kill him." I felt like a weight had been lifted off my chest, telling someone. But that still doesn't solve my problem. It doesn't save Maverick.
"Wait, what?" He asked, utterly flabbergasted.
"I don't know what to do!" I begin. Everything I have been bottling in-the stress, the guilt, the panic, the urgency, was forcing itself out. "I don't know how to save him, I don't know how to get into the Dead Mile, I don't know who has him, I don't even know how to solve your stupid riddle!" I yell. He is so taken aback, he doesn't respond at all. "So what's the last hint?"
"Pipes."
"Pipes? That's it?"
"Yes, pipes."