by David Adams
Contents
Copyright Information
Blurb
Books
Title Page
Evelyn's Locket
From the Author
The Lacunaverse
Evelyn’s Locket by David Adams
Copyright David Adams
2014
Silo 47 is quiet now. It didn’t used to be. People used to walk everywhere, love people, hate people…
Now everyone’s so peaceful. Nobody fights. Everyone sleeps.
Everyone except Evelyn.
A short story set in Hugh Howey’s World of WOOL.
Books by David Adams
The Lacuna series (science fiction)
Lacuna
The Sands of Karathi
The Spectre of Oblivion
The Ashes of Humanity
The Prelude to Eternity
The Requiem of Steel (coming 2015)
Magnet
Magnet: Special Mission
Magnet: Marauder
Magnet: Scarecrow
Magnet Saves Christmas
Magnet: Ironheart (coming 2015)
Faith
Imperfect
The Kobolds series (fantasy)
Ren of Atikala
The Scars of Northaven
The Empire of Dust (coming 2015)
The Pariahs
The Pariahs: Freelands
The Pariahs: Elfholme (coming soon)
Sacrifice
The Symphony of War series (science fiction)
Symphony of War: The Polema Campaign
Symphony of War: The Eris Campaign (coming 2016)
The Immortals: Kronis Valley (coming 2015)
Other Books
Insufficient
Insurrection
Injustice (coming 2015)
Who Will Save Supergirl?
Evelyn’s Locket
Evelyn’s Locket
A Short Story set in Hugh Howey’s world of WOOL
When they talk of ghosts of the dead who wander in the night
with things still undone in life,
they approximate my subjective experience of this life.
- Jack Henry Abbott
Evelyn's Locket
Silo 47
“Hi Auntie Jacklyn,” I said, waving as I passed her in the corridors of level 1, “I still haven’t found my locket yet. Still complaining about the taste of the drinking water?”
She didn’t respond. She never did. Auntie Jacklyn lay slumped against the rusted wall, her jaw hanging open, flesh and clothing dissolved. Her body was a frail, brittle skeleton clad in the melted remains of a jumpsuit.
I always said hi, though. I liked being polite. I wanted to stay and chat further, to see how her day was going, but I was too busy to talk to anyone. I had to find my locket.
I drifted further down the corridor, floating almost up to the ceiling. I looked inside one of the air vents. I was full of hope, but there was no locket. It was empty. Just a normal vent, pitted with rust and decay. I didn’t want the chain, just the locket. I didn’t want the chain at all.
Where was it?
I didn’t feel bad. I didn’t worry. I’d only been looking for a few minutes. An hour, tops. It would turn up. It’s like Mum always said: it was in the last place I’d left it, and when I found it, it would be in the last place I looked.
I continued on, letting my foot drag through the floor. James, a boy from my class, greeted me just as he did every day: frozen in place, trying to close the emergency airlock, his skeletal fingers still wrapped around the handle. I imagined he was waving to me.
“Is it really that hard to pull?” I asked him. He said nothing. Maybe James needed to eat his vegetables.
“Fine.” I sighed, shaking my head. James never used to be this rude.
How many times had I passed him? I didn’t know. A few. I didn’t worry. By the time I’d searched this level he’d be done, surely.
I searched level 1, but I didn’t find my locket, nor the necklace it was attached to. Dad gave it to me after Mum died, so it was special. Still, the silo wasn’t that big. I’d find it.
Down and down I went, moving onto levels 2 through 25. Every floor was big, but it seemed like each one didn’t take long. As I did I passed more people. Nobody talked to me.
Maybe I’d done something wrong.
Pretty soon I was in level 50. Down deep with the machines. The end. Our silo was smaller than most; smaller than the plans said it should be, anyway. We didn’t have many levels and the centre of the silo was a large pool which held everyone’s drinking water. It was completely still, and it smelled.
Now I’d run out of places to search. I drifted back up the central staircase, moving in the large void, heading back up. I’d just missed it, that’s all.
“Hi Auntie Jacklyn,” I said, passing by her again in the corridor. How long was she going to just lay there? I didn’t remember her being this lazy. “Still haven’t found the locket. I don’t want the chain, just the locket.”
I should check that air vent again. I poked my head up between the bars. Nope.
When I withdrew it I heard something. I very rarely heard things, so the sound caught my attention. It wasn’t the crash of something rusted falling down, or the drip of condensation falling all the way down the middle of the silo into the pool at the bottom.
It was tapping on the other side of the wall. Digging. Rhythmic metal on stone.
I had to strain to listen and I felt silly for doing so. Nothing had moved in the silo in a really long time. But the more I listened, the louder it grew.
Finally, I heard the faint sound of voices.
“We’re almost through!”
It sounded like my father, the voice gravely and deep, but it wasn’t. Not quite. Someone similar to him was inside the metal wall of the silo. Digging through the stone that lay on the other side of the steel bulkhead.
“Set the charge,” someone else answered. A woman. She didn’t sound like my mother, but I could barely hear her. “And stand back.”
Nothing happened for a while. I felt the urge to go looking for my locket again, but the voices had my attention. Nobody spoke anymore these days.
Maybe I’d imagined it.
A huge explosion tore through the side of the silo, blowing chunks of rock and dirt out into the dusty corridor. It passed right through me, splattering against the far wall. When the dust cleared I could see there was a hole the size of a person in my home.
“Fucking hell, Matthew, how much did you use?!” The woman sounded angry. I felt annoyed. My Dad’s name was Alex. Not Matthew.
“A block? The rock seemed thicker than it was. I know what I’m doing, Sarah.”
Sarah. I made face. My mother’s name was Kylie. Not Sarah.
A man appeared, clad in a white suit that was skin-tight. His face was exposed, but the inside of the silo didn’t seem to affect him like it had everyone else. They’d all turned into rude skeletons who never talked. Matthew waved an instrument around that beeped and whined. Two lights atop the device glowed a fiery red.
“Yeah, just like we thought. This silo’s breached. Your AIDI fluid levels are okay?”
“Of course.” The woman appeared, the one he’d called Sarah, but I knew was really Kylie. She too had a suit. “I’d rather not get gobbled up by nanobots.” She sighed. “Let’s just look around for anything valuable, then head back home. Everyone’s counting on us.”
They stepped into the main corridor and started walking along. I floated over in front of them.
“Hi!” I said, waving my hand. “Hey Mum! Hey Dad!”
They didn’t look at me. Dad walked right through me as though I wasn’t there, and Mum did the same thing right after.
Maybe I had to speak louder.
“Check it out,” said Dad, pointing to James, his skeletal hand still clutching the handle that, with just a pull, would seal the emergency airlock. “Probably still works.”
“Let’s find out.” Mum reached out and pulled it.
James was a wuss. The lever pulled easily. His hand fell off the lever when it moved and his skeleton crumpled into dust.
Red light filled the entire corridor. A heavy steel door descended, sealing off the airlock. The filtration systems shuddered to life; the air vent I’d searched just before was now full of breeze, fresh air pumping into the facility, removing the outside air.
The silo was big, though. This would take some time. That was good. I’d have time to talk to my parents.
“So hey, Dad,” I said, stepping up beside him and smiling expectantly. “Thanks for coming. I’ve been trying to find my locket, bu—”
“This is a good find, Matthew,” said Mum, talking right over the top of me and calling Dad by the wrong name again. “In a few hours the upper levels will be clear. The fact that nobody’s been here means this place hasn’t been looted yet.”
“Maybe they didn’t have the AIDI fluid,” said Dad. “None of the other places we’ve been had any.”
“Yeah. I don’t know why they didn’t issue it to every silo.”
“What’s AIDI?” I asked. Neither of them answered.
“Maybe they didn’t have enough time to distribute it.” Dad sat in the dust, waiting for the air filtration system to do its work.
I was starting to get annoyed. It was one thing for Auntie Jacklyn and James to ignore me, but not my own mother and father. “Hi!” I said, floating down in front of them. They didn’t seem to see me. “I’m looking for my locket. The one you gave to me? I think I misplaced it. It’s important that I find it.” I didn’t know why it was, but it was.
They just sat there, waiting, letting the time pass. I tried to talk to them again and again, but they didn’t seem interested. I tried being polite, I tried stamping my foot—it went straight through the ground—but nothing worked. The two of them just made idle talk about what they could take.
Soon, the air became clean and Dad and Mum—still ignoring me—moved further into the silo.
“Interesting,” said Dad. He stood by the railing of the huge central staircase, leaning over the railing and looking down. The way he stood there made me feel very uneasy but I didn’t know why—I’d done the same thing many times before. Not recently, though. “I wonder why they built it like this?”
“Because,” I said, “this silo was one of the last to be built. So it’s smaller than the others. Didn’t they teach you that in school?” They had taught me in school.
“Maybe it’s for cooling,” said Mum.
“That explains the water down the bottom. I can see it.”
“No, the water’s for drinking,” I said, but they weren’t paying any attention. “Everyone says it’s turned yuck, though.” Everyone did say that. Auntie Jacklyn especially. It had always tasted fine to me.
Mum and Dad started walking down the stairs. Down, down, down. I thought about floating over the edge and walking on the air beside the staircase, but the very thought filled me with a strange dread. I could easily float into air vents and other stuff, but the idea of floating over the pool made me uneasy. I risked a glance over the edge at the water below. “Are you sure you two haven’t seen my necklace?”
“Do you think anything still works here?” asked Mum. “It’s been exposed for a long time.”
“Maybe. There might be some damage, but I’m sure we’ll find something worth bringing back.”
Down and down they went, around and around. I followed them. They went into one of the computer rooms, took a few things. I didn’t mind. The computers didn’t work any more; whatever parts Mum and Dad could take and use was fine by me.
They went to the nursery, but they didn’t take anything there. I think the little skeletons made them nervous. The babies didn’t cry, though, which was kind of them. They were as quiet as everyone else.
They searched some more, then Mum and Dad left, their arms full of stuff. They seemed pleased.
I didn’t want them to go, but I went right on back to searching for my locket. I searched the air vent again. I said hello to Auntie Jacklyn, and James, even though he was really just a pile of dust now it still felt right to talk to him.
Mum and Dad came back. Dad’s beard had grown a bit. They must have been gone longer than I thought. How many times had I searched?
They brought friends this time. A lot of friends, all dressed in the same white skin-tight suits. They split up, with Mum and Dad taking the lower levels. I followed them.
“Welcome back,” I said, but they were too busy talking about their plans. They were going to take the pump from the drinking water reservoir. It would have to be drained first.
I didn’t know why, but this made me feel uncomfortable.
“Wait,” I tried again, as the two of them made their way to level 50. “Is there something else you can take instead of the water pump?”
If there was, the two of them gave no sign. They discussed how they were going to move it, cutting it into chunks of metal.
I gave up trying to convince them. Adults never listened to children. I marched the rest of the way down in silence.
Level 50 was just like the others, but a lot dirtier. This was where the workers came and fixed everything that made our lives possible. There wasn’t much here that wasn’t covered in grime and grease, and it seemed like there’d be a lot of things to take, but Mum and Dad made a beeline for the pump.
A huge machine, ten cubic metres, like a two trunked elephant drinking from the side of the huge vat. Two huge pipes, almost as big as a grown man, fed into the pump machine. From there, dozens of smaller pipes took the water all over the silo.
“I don’t know why you want this huge ugly thing anyway,” I said, wrinkling my nose. “It smells.”
“Pshaw. Can you smell that?” Mum pinched her nose. Typical Mum. Taking credit for stuff I’d noticed.
“Yeah,” said Dad. “Let’s cut it up quickly. Lots of metal here.”
They pinched the elephant’s trunk closed with two huge clamps, keeping the water in the vat, then each of them pulled out an electric saw and got to work. Sparks flew everywhere as Mum and Dad cut the elephant up into smaller chunks, each about the size of a person.
It took them a long time. They left, came back, left again. I lost count of how many times. Slowly but surely, the elephant got carved into bits and carried away.
Finally there was the last two bits of the elephant. The parts that connected to its trunks.
“Careful,” said Dad, his beard long and unkempt. “If we pierce the tubing before the clamp, this whole level will flood.”
“You’ll die,” I said, hoping they wouldn’t. “Be careful.”
“I’ll be careful,” said Mum, and for a moment I thought she’d finally heard me. If she had, she gave no other sign. Her saw screamed as it bit into the piping, digging in an inch or two, but then it jammed.
“Shit,” said Dad. “I think there’s a blockage in the pipe.”
“Shouldn’t the blade cut right through whatever’s in there?”
“No.” Dad shook his head. “The saw’s only built for metal. If there’s plastic in there, or wood, it might snag.”
Mum yanked and yanked, then with an angry snarl, gave up. “It’s stuck in tight. Fuck.”
“Hold on.” Dad started his own saw. “I’ll see if I can free you.” He used his blade to make three shallow cuts into the pipe, cutting out a triangle. With a grunt, he wiggled his fingers under the wedge and pulled it off.
Black, slimy water ran everywhere, all over Mum and Dad’s suits, staining them a gross brown. The two of them gagged.
“That fucking reeks,” said Dad. “Yeah, it’s blocked. Damn. What is this?”
I floated
a little closer. The blockage was a black bundle of sludge and wood wrapped in a wire mesh.
Wait, not wood. Something else.
Bone.
Memories flooded back to me—memories of standing by the railing during a power outage, staring down at the water, marveling at how dark it was. Then I was gasping for air. Scratching at my throat. I had been light headed and slumped over. Not quite dead, not quite alive. I remembered feeling myself being wrapped up. Wrapped in wire. Then falling…
This was my skeleton.
Mine wasn’t like the others, though. I could see that now; it was older. Much older. Years.
I hadn’t died when the bad air had come in. I’d died long before.
“Maybe they drowned,” said Mum.
“Check it out,” said Dad. “A necklace.”
My locket! Silver, tarnished from the water, the unwanted chain wrapped around the spine of my skeleton. Not placed there, draped over my body as it usually was, but bound tight against me. The chain was stressed and damaged. It was wrapped tight, tight, tight. The amulet had scratch marks on it.
My fingernails. I’d been grabbing for it, trying to remove it, so I could breathe.
The killer had choked me with my own amulet.
I remembered, now. Finding my body had brought it all back, rushing into my head like light from a dying monitor. The killer had choked me, wrapped my body up to prevent it from breaking up when it rotted, then dumped it into the central water tank. There was nowhere else to keep a body. Darkness had hidden the murder and although the sheriff had searched the tank, he hadn’t searched the pipes. The elephant’s trunk had kept the killer’s secret. It was big enough to hide me.
I didn’t need to find my locket now, I wanted it because I had wanted it in the moments before I’d died.
The sheriff had found out who did it. I didn’t know who it was, I was long dead by then. I barely remember floating through the halls, watching as he was sent out to clean. Even after they opened the doors he never told them where I was. Dad tried; he tried so hard to get the killer to tell him where my body was hidden, but he never told. He did tell them why, though. He and his wife wanted a child. There was no more room. So room was made.
