The Runner (Part I of the Runner Series)

Chapter 33

I am finishing up my meal in the Hall the next day when I see them. Members of the Board, sitting atop their usual benches at the front of the Hall with their bald spots plainly visible as they lean across the table and talk anxiously among themselves.

I watch them thoughtfully, dabbing my mouth with a napkin. Most mornings, many of the Board members are absent from breakfast, but today they are all gathered together. This immediately gives me cause to think something is up. They appear unusually tense and hurried and I surmise they will be meeting in the Boardroom on the second floor after the meal.

One by one, the ladies fold their napkins and rise from the table, trickling back toward the parlour or out to wander the courtyard. I take my time, scraping the sauce from my plate with a bit of toast as I spy on the men from the corner of my eye.

Will sits behind the Board's table, closer to them than I am. I shift my focus momentarily to regard his scruffy head bent over his plate as he eats.

Defiance blooms in my chest. He hasn't made eye contact with me once during yesterday's meals or this morning's breakfast, and has been conspicuously absent immediately afterward. He's purposefully trying to avoid me.

I chew carefully, willing him to look up. By now, all the ladies except for myself and Blinky have left. Blinky chatters away happily, completely oblivious to the fact that I haven't heard a word she's said.

Finally, Will looks up and is suddenly staring right at me. I almost drop my toast in surprise but recover my wits well enough to nob subtly at the Board's table.

His dark brows lower as he looks to the old men, watching them carefully. I can practically see the cogs in his brain working while he takes in the scene. After a few moments, he inclines his head toward the courtyard.

"How interesting," I say, balling up my napkin and tossing it onto the plate.

"I know, isn't it? And I could swear that I had already eaten it!" Blinky laughs, not missing a beat.

"I'm going to take a turn in the grounds." I rise and straighten my skirt.

"If you want some company..."

Her voice trails off as I step away from the table and make my way toward the exit.

I wander slowly down the garden path, seemingly admiring the way the light from the open roof streams in around me. I keep a slow pace and, after a moment, Will appears beside me.

"Cousin," he says, falling into step.

"Good morning," I greet him.

As we walk, I am painfully aware of the space between our arms. We used to walk so that we could graze each other lightly, but now the distance between us is obvious and deliberate.

We stroll toward the end of the yard, where there are fewer people. In the back of my mind I recall that no guard is scheduled to walk by this area for another twenty minutes but am careful to keep my voice low, just in case.

"Well, what do you make of it?" I ask.

"They are definitely worked up about something," Will replies. His voice is quiet but he keeps his expression neutral while he looks around. Anyone watching from a distance would think there is nothing untoward occurring but a friendly chat between cousins.

"Do you think there could have been another Wastelander attack?" I ask.

"I'm not sure, but whatever it is, it can't be good for us."

"What makes you say that?"

He takes one more glance about the yard before shifting his gaze back to me. "I heard one mention something about a spy."