Description: Rebels of Eden SOMETIMES I THINK running away is what I do best. As I run through the forest, my bare feet hardly make a sound on the dew-damp leaves. That''s not the case with my pursuer. His feet crash like the paws of an infuriated bear, snapping branches and crushing tender new growth. I can hear him cursing. "Doesn''t matter how fast you run, or where you hide. I can smell the city stink on you. You can''t escape. This is my home." I shift my pace to leap over the thick trunk of a fallen tree, then remember Mira''s advice: snakes hide under the crevice of fallen trees. If you step or jump too close on the far side, you''ll be in perfect range of a strike. Snakes are calm and docile creatures, she added, unlike the malicious serpents many pre-fail humans believed them to be. "But if you stepped on me while I was sleeping, I''d bite you!" she told me, flashing her teeth so white in her dark, freckled face. With her good advice ringing in my memory, I instead jump on top of the fallen trunk and then leap far clear of any disgruntled rattler. I''d almost rather face the rattlesnake than Zander. He''s getting closer, and I clutch the stolen strip of fabric tighter in my fist. I''d rather die than be captured, I think . . . then burst into laughter through my panting breath. I''ve said that kind of thing before, in much worse circumstances. I meant it then. Somehow my body and brain, recalling those past dangers, feel it even now. It has become second nature to me. I won''t yield. Zander will never catch me. He''s bigger and stronger than me, far meaner, but I''m lithe and fast. My tireless legs will carry me to salvation. As long as I have the great open Earth before me, I''m safe. And then, the Earth ends. I should have known. Zander knew--I realize now that he was chasing me here, herding me. I thought I was running on dewy ground, but of course it is far too late in the day for dew to remain. It burned off hours ago in the strong late-summer sunshine. No, the damp leaves were caused by mist from the waterfall. It''s swirling around me now, heavy enough to look mystically silver up here on the high elevation. Unfortunately not nearly thick enough to hide me from my enemy. For he made it clear on my first day in Harmonia that I was his enemy. The place of my birth ensured that before he knew a thing about me. "Give it up, City." He won''t call me by my name, only insults about my origin. He lords his natural birth over me and the other refugees from Eden. I bear the brunt because I''m the only one near his age. I whirl and face him, the sound of the waterfall raging behind me. I don''t want to look at it. Not from up here. I''ve seen it from the bottom, where the rushing water cascades into a rock-lined pool in a never-ending crashing tumult. It is a scary enough force of nature seen from safe, dry, level land. If I look at it now, I might lose my nerve. And I''ll need all the courage I possess to face whatever Zander as in store for me. I''m used to heights, but that just means I know enough to be absolutely sure I don''t want to fall off of them. Or be pushed. When EcoPan set me free from Eden, and my mother and the others took to Harmonia, I was sure that life in nature must be a paradise. Isn''t it what mankind has been awaiting for generations? And in many ways it is. But after three months in the wild, I''ve discovered that people are still people, whether they are in the city or the forest, no matter if they are trapped or free. "Just don''t be alone with him," Mira''s boyfriend Carnelian once advised me. Easy for him to say. He spends as much time indoors as an Eden resident, tinkering with the small bits of tech we''re allowed to help us live harmoniously with nature. Zander hates technology, so it''s easy for someone like Carnelian to avoid him. But Carnelian took his Passage Test last year, and got a high ranking. I take the test tomorrow, so I''ve had to devote all my waking hours to the outdoors, learning how to navigate this strange, wild world. I thought I was doing pretty well, until Zander started in on me. So far, it''s just been with cutting words. But I see the way he and his brothers look at the Eden-born, like we''re decadent, corrupt, weak. I''ll always be an outsider. Now, standing about ten feet away, he gives me a slow, malicious grin. I''m trapped, and he can take his time. "Hand it over." He extends his hand, as if he''s the most reasonable person in the world. I take a tiny step back and shake my head. The small, loose rocks grate worryingly beneath my feet. If I''m not careful, I''ll fall before he even decides to push me. No, he couldn''t be that terrible, could he? Just because I was born somewhere else? EcoPan chose me for liberation. Shouldn''t that make me worthy in his eyes? When I don''t hand over the flag, his outstretched hand slowly balls into a fist. "Now," he says. "Before I lose my patience." I just clutch it tighter. This is a bikking game! Two teams of athletes, each guarding the flag at their home base, each trying to steal their opponent''s flag. It''s supposed to be fun, build camaraderie, and train us for life in the wild--an excuse to run, hide, and stalk through the woods. But Zander, his brothers, and his friends have turned it into a war. They never expected an Eden-born girl like me to exceed them in speed and stealth. Now Zander sees it as a direct battle between Eden and Harmonia. A battle he apparently intends to win at any cost. "You''re going to fail tomorrow, too," he snarls at me. "Might as well get used to it today." He''s also in the Passage Test tomorrow. "You know I''m going to get that flag one way or another. Tell you what, if you hand it over, I''ll only break your arm. How about that, City? With a broken arm you might squeak by with the lowest passing rank . . . if your city-scum mother helps you." I catch my breath, and my jaw tightens. "Don''t you even mention my mother!" Until three months ago I thought she was dead, gunned down by Eden Greenshirts as she tried to help me escape to a better life. I was overjoyed to find her alive here in Harmonia. She''s the most precious thing to me. He ignores me. "But if you make me take it from you, I''ll break your leg. You won''t be able to take the Passage Test. Maybe not ever, if I break it badly enough." "You wouldn''t!" I gasp, overwhelmed by the unfairness of it all. "We''re supposed to live in harmony here. What have I ever done to you, Zander?" He shrugs. "Do you ever watch the wolves, City?" There''s a pack in the mountain range nearby. Sometimes they skirt close to Harmonia, but mostly they avoid us. The elder named Night took some of us to watch the pack at its den. "They work together, sure, but every pack has a leader. The other wolves don''t dare disobey him, or . . ." He mimes slitting a throat, and I wince. But he hasn''t ever plunged a knife into another human being. He doesn''t understand what it really means. I do. Maybe he''s all talk. Or maybe he just hasn''t had a chance to be as cruel as he is capable of being, yet. "When Night took you, did you see that scrawny little black wolf? Every time another wolf looked at him he rolled on his back and pissed on his own belly. Do you know why? He came from another pack. Kicked out, just like you. The other wolves hate him. He''ll always be an outsider. "We''re a lot like wolves," he goes on. "I''m coming in top in the Passage Test, and working my way up from there. Someday I''ll be leader--the alpha wolf of this pack--and when I am, I''ll make the decisions, and all the corrupt city scum will know their place. Until then, I start with you!" He lunges for me, and in that instant I make a split-second decision. Better to choose my own destiny than to let someone else choose for me. I whirl, and leap into the roaring, misty void. The glimpse I get of Zander''s utter frustration is enough to make me laugh like a lunatic as I fly off the cliff into the waterfall. I know that only adds to his rage, and that makes this suicidal leap almost worthwhile. It''s just a game, my mother''s voice seems to whisper to me as I fall. No, I think. This is life. Life and death. Everything in Eden, everything out here, has serious consequences. The smallest decisions matter. But falling and philosophy don''t mix . . . at least not for long. I''m a climber, with skill gained from scaling the high wall that was my childhood prison. Falling is a climber''s nightmare, but for just a moment, my nightmare is beautiful. In seemingly slow motion I feel like I''m flying more than falling. The waterfall is lovely and savage, viscerally real in a way Eden simulations never could be, and I glory in the roaring sound, the chill. Beneath me, in a flash of clarity through the mist, I see my friends and teammates: vital, dark Mira like a lithe wild animal, and shy but earnest Carnelian, most visible of all with his shock of orange hair. They''re looking up at me, their mouths open, shouting something I can''t hear over the surging water. Then time catches up with me and the beauty becomes terror as I merge with the crushing waterfall. It knocks the wind out of me, blinds me, and I brace for impact on the rocks below, thinking, crazily, We won! I still have the flag!

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