“Wow, you’re really making it sound like we made a good choice here, George,” I said.
George shrugged. “No need to sugarcoat it. It’s most definitely not a vacation.” He looked at Ell. “You sure you want to come along?”
“If Grady goes, I go.”
“All right,” George said. He stuck out his hand, and Ell shook it. I was unable to speak. I didn’t want her to come, but I knew she would never let me go on my own. And I did want to go, as crazy as it sounded. The City saved not only my life, but the lives of my friends. Without it, without the kind people here (save for a few), who knows what might’ve happened to us?
I owed the City of Light for this. I owed Nick. I owed the citizens.
I talked to Ell when I got back from my shift in the early morning. She had time to sleep on it, and I thought maybe she had changed her mind. Perhaps a full night’s rest had lent her some sense.
Nope.
“I want to go,” she said before I could even broach the subject. She was in a fuzzy purple robe, sitting in the dimly lit kitchenette we shared and sipping a glass of orange juice. “The more I thought about it, the more I realized it’s the least I can do.”
I nodded. I understood.
“Ell, it’s dangerous. More dangerous than—”
“Than our journey here?” She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I seriously doubt it. How much time did we spend outside the snowmobiles? A lot. How many weapons did we have? Our go-to was Off! and little Bic lighters. The Scavs probably have freaking flame throwers!”
“You’re right, you’re right,” I said. “But it’s safer here. And warm.”
“I know, but I’m a very capable woman, Grady. I can handle myself.”
“Yes, you can, I know that. I just love you, that’s all. I’d kill myself if something happened to you because you followed me.”
“We’ll be fine, Grady.” Her voice sounded like she believed that, but her face said otherwise.
“I hope so. I really do.”
I’ve been wrong about a great many things in my almost three decades. I’ll admit that. Men are usually wrong, according to Mia, and it was certainly true in my case.
But being wrong all the time didn’t always mean bad things. Because I was wrong about our trip with the Scavs. Their numbers thinned after the attack so Ell and I had very big shoes to fill. And believe me, we tried our best.
There were five in total. George, Zoe, Chad, and Ell and myself. I knew Zoe pretty well, but had only ever spoken to Chad on a few occasions. He was close to my age, maybe a little older. He seemed a bit cocky, the way guys in their late teens and early twenties usually are. You could tell by how often he mentioned how much he could bench press.
We took the snow-tank George had retrieved Credence in. The cab’s console looked like the cockpit of a Boeing 757 with all its buttons, switches, and gadgets. We all fit inside comfortably, and on a Monday morning, with the snow falling hard and the wind blowing harder, we set out east to another settlement.
What I was wrong about was thinking things would go badly for us. They did not. The trip actually went smoothly. We saw no signs of wraiths. No signs of crazy people. Still, I kept both my weapon and my flashlight within reach.
The settlement was located on a defunct military base, where a few people lived below ground in a bunker. When we pulled up to it, all I saw out the windshield was rolling mounds of white.
George stopped and killed the engine. “Home away from home sweet home,” he grunted.
Ell and I exchanged a look just as Zoe pulled the radio mic from the dash and spoke into it.
“The hippo has entered the pond. I repeat, the hippo has entered the pond. And it’s bath time.”
Static crackled, and an old man said, “Affirmative.”
Lights blinked on all around us. I turned away from them and squinted against the brightness. Now able to see better, I noticed a dip in the snow’s surface to my left. The wind groaned, rocking our vehicle back and forth, but the grinding sound of the opening bunker door drowned it out.
“All right, let’s move out,” George said.
The walk to the opening was about thirty feet, and in that thirty feet I felt my joints turn to ice.
Once in, a man with a long gray beard greeted us. He looked like a mixture of Gandalf and Dumbledore—very wizard-y. George and him hugged one another like they were old friends, and then the bearded man hugged Zoe and Chad the same way.
Ell and I waited politely before George nodded his head toward us and said, “This here is Grady and Ell. They’re helping out.”
The wizard-man frowned; there was a touch of sadness in his eyes. “Oh, Nicky told me. How terrible. I’m so sorry to hear about your losses. I loved Ayden like a brother.” He turned, smiled, and initiated a group hug. A strong scent of tobacco swept over me. Homegrown stuff.
“My name is Julius, and it’s so nice to meet you both.”
“Nice to meet you too,” I said.
“Come in, everyone, and warm up.” Julius led us down a metal staircase, which was lit by weak bulbs every fifteen or so feet. Our boots clanged off the steps and echoed around our heads. It seemed like we'd traveled a mile below before a brighter light emerged and the sounds of conversation drifted upward.
“No, no, no, man! You cheated!”
“I didn’t cheat! You just suck donkey dick at—”
Julius cleared his throat, interrupting the argument. “Fellas, we have guests. Please mind your manners.”
Two men were sitting at a card table. A game of backgammon sat between them. Judging by the way their fists were balled up, I didn’t think they’d be sitting much longer. The bunker was spacious, but I could already feel the walls closing in. I was surprised these guys hadn’t killed each other already. They were both middle-aged. One was balding; the other had a full head of hair that went down past his shoulders and a hard face, like a rock star having trouble adapting to mid-life.
“Mind if I use the bathroom?” Zoe asked. “My bladder’s about to burst.”
“Of course,” Julius answered. He waved a hand behind him.
“Oh, here, I’ll show you,” the retired rock star said.
“Give it a rest, Damian. I’m not gonna bang you,” Zoe replied. The man chuckled awkwardly, his eyes flicking to Ell and I, and then to the floor. Zoe passed him without so much as a glance and went down the nearby corridor Julius had pointed to.
“Yo, Chad, you wanna get in on this? I can’t play with Dame no more. He’s a cheatin’ son of a bitch,” the balding man said. Damian flashed his middle finger, and the other guy flashed it right back.
Julius glared their way. “What did I say about minding your manners, you two? I expect that kind of behavior from Damian, but not you, Sam. For God’s sake, there’s a lady present.” His head turned slightly in Ell’s direction.
“I don’t mind,” Ell said, surprised. “I hear enough of it from this guy.” She cocked a thumb at me, and I smiled innocently.
“See, Julius? You gotta lighten up, my friend,” the balding man, Sam, said. “Now how about it, Chad?”
Chad shook his head. “Nah, man. I just wanna sleep on an actual mattress. Being cooped up in the boat’s got me cramped as hell.”
“Chicken,” Sam said, to which Chad rolled his eyes and left down a different corridor.
I stepped forward. “I’m game. Been a while since I’ve played backgammon, but if you wanna give me a little refresher, I’m sure I can hold my own.”
“That’s Grady for ya,” George said, smiling. He clapped me on the back. “Friendly and fun. Now, I’m not your mother, but I’d suggest you get some sleep too. We’re heading out in eight hours.”
“Speaking of fun,” Sam said, “you ain’t, Georgie.”
“Yeah, yeah, I hear it all the time. But your mom says otherwise.”
Julius shook his head, fed up. He crossed the room and plopped down on an old ratty couch. From beneath it, he pulled out a bottle of
Jack Daniels. It was about three-quarters of the way gone, and he tipped it back and finished the rest in one swallow. Damian sat by him and pulled out his own bottle. His was much fuller, but he was experienced in slugging back whiskey. Most of the bottle was gone in two or three gulps, and the guy hardly even grimaced. He left after that, looking glum about what Zoe said, most likely.
“Take it back, George,” Sam said amicably enough.
George replied, “Nope, but I’m off to bed. If you need me, don’t.”
Sam muttered, “Asshole.” He rattled the dice around in his fist and looked at me. “Well, c’mon. If you wanna play, let’s do it. Just don’t cheat, okay?”
I nodded. “No problem.”
To tell you the truth, I wasn’t sure how you could cheat at backgammon, especially without it being obvious.
“Mind if I watch?” Ell asked. “I’m not too tired.”
“I don’t mind,” I said.
“Guess not,” Sam echoed. “You can be my second set of eyes. If he starts playing sketchy, you let me know.”
“Of course.”
Pretty soon, the three of us were all who were left in the big room. I played Sam a few games of backgammon, got my ass kicked at first, and then came back and held my own during the last game. I lost that one too, but hey, I was proud of myself.
It’d been about a dozen years since I’d last played. My grandma taught me. She loved backgammon, and I was glad for the reminder of all the summer afternoons we spent on her front porch, just the two of us and her one-eyed cat, throwing around the dice and moving our chips while the breeze drifted through the screen door.
Those were simpler times, better times. God, I miss them.
Ell played Sam next and, unsurprisingly, she whooped him twice. Sam was fuming after the last game. He snapped the backgammon set shut, stuck it under one arm, and bolted from the room.
After that, we eventually found our way to the spare beds. Everyone else was fast asleep. George’s snoring put Chewy’s to shame. I found the sounds comforting in an odd sort of way and fell asleep soon after.
We woke up right when George said so. Damian and Sam helped load the fuel into the tank, six big barrels of it.
Julius stopped me and pulled me into a hug. He still smelled like his tobacco, but that was now mixed with a faint scent of whiskey too.
“You take care of yourself, Grady. It was so nice meeting you.”
“I will, and thank you. For everything.”
“Not a problem. If you ever need anything else, don’t hesitate to reach out. We’d loved to take in as many people as we can here.” He shivered. A few snowflakes fell on his beard and stayed frozen. “I don’t like the thought of you all up there—never did—but especially not after the attacks.”
“I think we’ll be okay. The fuel helps.”
Julius smiled. “I will pray.”
I thanked him again, thinking we’d need more than prayers.
Then we were on our way. The trip back to the City lasted another few days, and they were a long few days.
I remember as we crested a mound of snow, I expected to see the lighthouse’s lantern shining in the distance. My heart had swelled, but then it popped.
George slowed the tank to a stop. The engine rumbled and growled. It was somehow louder idling than it was when in motion. I was wide awake. Ell, her head on my shoulder, kept on sleeping. So did the others, Zoe in the middle seats, Chad in the front next to George.
“Why isn’t the lighthouse on?” I asked. Had the fuel already dried up?
I leaned forward over Zoe and put a hand on George’s shoulder, looking at the side of his face. He was as pale as the snow. The glow from the dashboard instruments made him look eerie.
“I-I don’t know,” George answered in a soft, raspy voice.
“What?”
The dark had consumed our beacon, like it consumed everything else.
We were all on alert now.
“What the hell do we do?” Chad asked. “If those crazy bastards got in, the place’ll be crawling with shadows.”
“Then how about we leave?” Zoe offered.
George clenched his jaw. His eyes turned flinty as he twisted and looked at her. “Not a chance. We’re Scavengers, for God’s sake. We don’t back down from anyone. Those people in there are our family and friends. We won’t leave them behind.”
I heard them speaking, but my mind was far away. It was like they were talking at the far end of a cave, and their faded echoes were all that reached my ears. Next to me, Ell had begun crying.
Mia, Stone, Monica, Chewy—all those left in the world I cared about, their fates were unknown. They could’ve been dead, but they were definitely in danger.
I tried to stay positive, but there was no denying the malice hanging in the air. Have you ever been near a place that’s been struck by lightning? If you have then you’ll know of the metallic tang that lingers for a few moments after. You’ll know how the hairs on your arms and the back of your neck stand up if you get too close. You may not have been there to see or hear the strike but, evidence or not, you know it happened. You sense something off, something wrong. That’s how it was for me then. Lack of light could’ve been a simple malfunction. It could’ve been because the fuel ran out. It could’ve been a number of non-damning things, but I knew it wasn’t, because I could feel it.
A few seconds passed, then a minute. Heavy silence filled the tank’s cab.
“Okay,” Zoe said, breaking it, “we can’t tuck tail and run, so now what?”
We all looked to George for an answer. As the leader, I’m sure he expected that, but he was scared the same way we all were.
“George?” Chad said.
Still no answer. Not from him, at least. And the person who answered was who I least expected. Now, in hindsight, it makes sense. She had lost too many people she cared for and loved already. She refused to lose anyone else.
Eleanor leaned forward and said, “We fight, that’s what we do. We drive into the City and we fight for what’s ours, damn it, no matter who the enemy may be.”
The gates hung open crookedly, as if something had smashed through them. Something huge. I scanned the snow for tracks, footsteps or tires, and saw nothing. George drove forward. The tank fit, and soon we were rounding the watchtower I'd spent so many hours in. No lights glowed from it or any of the other towers. All the windows of the main buildings were boarded up, but usually you could see a faint gleam shining through the cracks on a few of these windows. You couldn’t now. Darkness flooded the entire City.
I felt like I was entering a graveyard. It was quiet and still. Even the wind had died down. The terrible shrieking had become soft whistling.
“What now?” Zoe asked. For the first time since knowing her, she looked frightened. She usually wore a perpetual scowl on her face, a kind of don’t-fuck-with-me look right up there with Mia’s default expression, but it had cracked. Now she seemed human.
George turned back to Ell.
“Keep going,” she said, nodding her head toward the windshield.
So that’s what we did. George drove the tank right up to the nearest entrance. He shut the engine off and reached for his rifle. Once in hand, he seemed a little more sure of himself. I grabbed my own weapon and, I’ll admit, I also felt a bit better.
“You ready?” he asked.
None of us answered. We weren’t ready; he knew this as well as we did.
George led the way. “All right, let’s get inside.”
We went to the same door I had tried getting through when Stone was shot. The keycard didn’t work without power, so I doubted if it would work then. If not, then how were we—
Gunshots exploded in front of us. The scanner shattered and sparks flew in every direction. George backed up a few steps, raised a leg, and kicked out, his weapon’s barrel smoking. The door, peppered with bullet holes, collapsed with the force of George’s boot. It was open now, and like the outside, there was only absolu
te darkness.
George hesitated before stepping forward. I didn't blame him. The fear rippling through me was enough to almost block out the arctic temperatures eating at my flesh. I didn’t want to go in, and I don’t think anyone else did either. But we had to. There was too much on the line. Stone and Mia and Monica and Chewy, not to mention the new friends I had made over the last few months. If I lost them, if I lost my shelter, if I lost all of it, nothing would matter anymore. I might as well be dead, and I’m sure the others felt this way too.
George went in first, and we followed. Guns and flashlights raised, we scanned the corridors. Paintings of sunsets and stick figures holding hands lined the walls. Cute and wholesome at any other time, they somehow felt sinister in the darkness. I kept my eyes forward and focused on what our beams brightened, which was a lot of nothing as we eased our way toward the hub.
I don’t think any of us were breathing. We spoke no words either, not until a rush of footsteps echoed down the hall. They were coming in our direction. I stopped, my muscles somehow tightening more than I believed possible.
“Fingers off your triggers,” George whispered. “Easy, easy.”
A light danced ahead. Shadows crawled along the walls. I couldn’t breathe. It was like an invisible hand was strangling me.
“Easy,” George repeated. “Easy—”
The person rounded the corner and squinted at our flashlights. It was Scarlett. She held a hand up over her face and looked as if she’d just been roused from sleep.
“What the hell was that?” she exclaimed. “Did you shoot at someone?”
“Scarlett?” George said.
“Who else?”
“What the hell happened here?” Zoe countered. “The gates are busted open.”
We all lowered our guns to the side. Well, everyone except for Eleanor. She was eyeing Scarlett warily. I reached over, put a hand on her rifle’s barrel, and eased it down. She resisted at first before dropping it.
“Long story,” Scarlett said. “Come to the cafeteria, that’s where everyone’s at. Set up a projector there. Everyone’s watching a movie on a small backup generator, you know, to take their minds off of what happened. I’ll tell you what I can on the way.”
Whiteout (Book 5): The Feeding Page 10
