by David Estes
Ben laughs. “Of course. We don’t want you passing out before you do anything for us. Ram,” he says, and I groan. Our supportive escort, back on duty, babysitting.
The look on Ram’s face shows he’s about as happy about it as we are. “C’mon,” he growls.
Chapter Seven
Adele
My eyes blink open. It is dark, of course, so I can’t see, not well anyway. I must’ve dropped my flashlight when I fell. It’s not on, so either the batteries died or it broke. I’m surprised to even be waking up. I thought the Flu or the dehydration would take me away.
My next thought is Tawni. Is she still alive? Did the Flu spare her life, too?
I put a hand on my head. There’s a bulging lump on my forehead but it’s not warm. I don’t feel shivery or sweaty. The fever has broken.
I want to test my legs, so I place a hand on the ground to push off. The ground has some give to it, like it’s not made of stone. It’s weird. Maybe I’m still hallucinating, my fever still raging on while I dream. Or I might still be asleep, in a viral coma, dreaming of soft ground and blackness.
As I touch the floor again, I confirm: The ground is definitely soft. I try to stand up anyway, but I can’t seem to get my legs under me, either because of the plush ground or my failing muscles. I might still be dying; just not dead yet.
One more time I push upwards with my hands and I feel my muscles grip, firm and strong. They don’t hurt. Perhaps I’m in shock. I am up but unsteady on my feet, wobbling and swaying and holding my arms out to try to get my balance, like a baby trying to take its first step. Losing the battle, I topple over, but I don’t hit the soft ground quickly like I expect. Instead the ground is farther away, as if I’m falling into a hole. And when I collide with it, the floor is no longer soft, but hard like…well, like rock. I scrape my arm and bang my knee and cry out.
“Who’s there?” someone asks. The voice sounds so familiar. So very familiar. My mind churns, but like the rock-cutting machines, I come up with only shattered rocks as thoughts. Nothing makes sense. I’m alone in the tunnels and yet…
“Tawni?” I say, knowing the voice was hers but also knowing it couldn’t have been. Surely I’m still hallucinating.
“Adele?” the hallucination says.
“Yes, it’s me,” I say, right away feeling stupid for talking to an apparition.
“Thank God. Where are we?”
If it is Tawni, she’s hallucinating too, confused by the fever that continues to plague us both. “Are you real?” I say.
“I think so,” Tawni says, her voice rising in the dark.
“Keep it down!” a third voice grunts. “I’m trying to sleep.”
Tawni squeals and I cover my head like someone is about to hit me.
When I pull my arm from my eyes the darkness is being fought off by an incoming light—a lantern. It bounces and sways as it approaches. I’m scared of the hallucination but I won’t show it. My mouth is a snarl.
“Who’s there?” Tawni says and I trace her voice to her face, which is now lit up by our mysterious visitor’s lantern. She is scared and it shows on her furrowed brow and wide, white eyes.
I look back to the light and have to shield my eyes with my hand as the bright beams flash in my face. A hand reaches over the lantern and covers it with a thin fabric, dimming the light. “You’re awake,” a young male voice says. The voice places the lantern on the ground and steps forward. Backlit by the light, our visitor is a dark profile, just a shadow in the shape of a human.
“Who are you?” I ask, my eyes never leaving the shadow. I’m still on the ground and I finally realize something: We’re not in the tunnel anymore. Tawni is elevated on a low bed, similar to one I was lying on, which is why I had so far to fall when I toppled over. Although I can’t see much of it, in my peripheral vision I can make out rows of beds extending in either direction. The room is large. “Where are we?” I add to my initial query.
Instead of responding, the shadow steps forward and extends a dark hand. If he wants to hurt me, he will regardless of whether I take his hand now. I hesitate, but then take his hand, tightening my muscles in preparation for a fight. His hand is warm but not sweaty, strong but not angry.
He pulls me to my feet with ease and I struggle to maintain my balance, but he adds a second hand to the small of my back to steady me. I don’t like this—relying on someone else. It makes me uncomfortable.
Gently he guides me to Tawni’s bed, and she lifts her knees to make room for me. “Sit here,” he says. I obey, only because I’m not sure I can stay on my feet any longer.
With a deft spin, he turns and sits on the bed I was on originally. His face is thrust into the light. As I guessed from his voice, he’s young, no more than twenty. His hair is chestnut and curly, and his eyes light brown. He’s smiling, but it’s constrained, like he’s afraid of being too merry given our present condition.
“I’m Trevor,” he says. “Welcome to the Star Realm.” His eyes are dancing in the light.
“What? But how?” I ask.
Trevor laughs. “We heard you.”
“Heard us what?” I say, stupefied by how anyone could have possibly found us. Then I remember: the dim light I saw up ahead, fighting to reach it, failing, passing out; darkness surrounding. “I was at the border,” I say, before Trevor can reply. “But I didn’t make any noise.”
Trevor smirks. “From what I hear, you were screaming like a banshee. The border guards found you delirious on the tunnel floor, yelling and screaming about floods and bats and sun dwellers.”
I don’t remember any of what he is saying so I’m not sure whether I can trust him. But I’m here, I guess, so it makes sense.
He continues: “They managed to calm you down, but you kept mumbling about your friend in the tunnel. At first they thought it was just the fever, but you kept persisting so we sent a few men and they found her.” He motions to Tawni.
I look at Tawni. She looks much better. Her normal pale-pink color has returned, and her eyes are no longer a tortured red. “You saved me,” she says to me.
“No.”
“Yes. I couldn’t make it any farther, but you did.”
I shrug. “I just got lucky.”
“Luck had nothing to do with it,” Trevor says and I look back at him. His grin is gone and the brown in his eyes has darkened. He runs a hand through his long hair. “Let me guess: You drank from the reservoir in the inter-Realm tunnel?”
I nod, feeling somewhat sheepish. I expect him to mock us for our stupidity. He doesn’t.
“Impressive. You made it nearly forty miles before the Flu took you.”
Even I raise my eyebrows. Forty miles. But I keep my mouth tight. “All the more reason why we were lucky.”
“If you say so,” he says.
“I do. What is this place, anyway?”
“The infirmary. Kind of like a hospital. We get a lot of sick people down here. The conditions aren’t great.”
Looking down the row of beds to either side, I can make out a few arms, legs, and heads poking from beneath the sheets. “I need to get out of here,” I say.
“Not gonna happen.”
“What—are we prisoners?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then why can’t we leave?” I don’t like being told what to do, even by the people who have helped us.
“You’re not well enough yet.”
I take a deep breath and plan my next words carefully. Tawni, always the mediator, steps in for me. “Thank you, Trevor. Thank you for everything you’ve done for us. But we’re here on an urgent matter. There’s someone we have to find.”
“Who?”
Tawni looks to me for guidance. I sigh. “My mom.”
“She’s a moon dweller?”
“Yeah, so what?”
“There aren’t many moon dwellers down here.”
“I think she’s in the Max,” I say.
Trevor’s eyes light up with understanding. “A
prisoner, huh? Well, you can’t see her.”
I frown, clench my fists, try to stay calm. Fighting won’t get me anywhere—at least not yet. “Why not?” I ask.
“You have to see the General first.”
“Why?”
“The General asked me to bring you as soon as you woke up. It’s been three days and the General is not very patient.”
“Three days!” I say. I can’t hide the surprise in my voice.
“You were nearly dead,” Trevor says. “Dead like the Star Realm.” It’s a weird expression, but somehow it feels appropriate.
“And after the General?” I ask. I figure we’ll go see this dude and then be on our way, free to visit the Max and find my mom.
“The General will decide that.” I’m barely able to contain my anger, but I do, following Tawni’s lead.
“When do we leave?”
“It’s the dead of night,” Trevor says. I can’t ignore his second reference to death. Despite his cheery face, there is something dark about him. I can’t quite put my finger on it. It could just be my imagination. Or it could just be the way people are down here—in the Star Realm. “Look, just try and get a few more hours of sleep and I’ll come to collect you in the morning.”
A thought occurs to me. “Why were you here in the middle of the night?”
“Rounds,” he says simply. I don’t believe him. He doesn’t look like a doctor, or a nurse, or a guard, or anyone that should be watching over us while we sleep. He was here for a reason. Either an order or his own agenda. As if sensing I am not satisfied, he hurries on: “Get some sleep, Adele. There are clean tunics under your beds to change into in the morning.”
“How did you—” I start to ask, but he is already up and floating away, a ghost in the dark, his lantern casting eerie shadows in his wake. Darkness returns, but my eyes have adjusted and I can still see.
“He seemed nice,” Tawni says, putting her typical positive spin on things.
“More like a creep.”
Tawni looks at me and laughs. “I can tell you’re feeling better.”
I can’t help myself. Seeing my lost friend safe and healthy is enough to coax a smile to my lips. “I guess so,” I say. “Are you okay?”
Tawni nods. “I feel fine. They must have given us medicine.”
I return her nod absently. Something doesn’t feel right about this whole setup. Trevor’s tone; the all-powerful General; our miraculous recovery; Trevor knowing my name: I can’t seem to make sense of it all.
Tawni reaches out a hand. “What are you thinking about?”
I take her hand and she gives mine a light squeeze. “Nothing,” I say, not wanting to worry her with my muddled thoughts. “Let’s get back to sleep.”
Although I hope Tawni will be able to sleep, I know I won’t. I have too many questions, too many puzzle pieces to make sense of. It feels like my entire life is a mystery all of a sudden. Trevor must know my name because we were all over the news after we broke out of the Pen. So he must know Tawni’s name too. But that doesn’t explain why his tone was so dark, why he kept using the word dead. I mean, I guess he only said it a couple of times, but still, it was creepy. My thoughts cause me to shiver under my thin sheet.
What keeps me going is my dad’s confidence in me. Before we parted ways, he told me I was courageous and strong and that he was proud of me. He also told me trust my heart. Now my heart is telling me that I have to find my mom and get out of here as quickly as I can. But not tonight. Tonight Tawni needs to sleep, even if I cannot.
With hours to kill, my thoughts turn to my dad, my sister, and then Tristan, in that order. I am afraid to start giving Tristan priority in my thoughts to the detriment of my own family. Somehow I know if I do it will put them in danger. Ridiculous, I know, but I can’t help it.
I fear for my dad. He will do everything in his power to protect Elsey, but he’s also not very good at picking his battles. If he sees an injustice he’s compelled to do something about it. It’s a rare quality to have these days. In my world, it’s a dangerous way to be. It’s what got him and my mom in trouble in the first place. And Elsey and me too, indirectly. I hope he’ll focus on taking care of Elsey and staying out of trouble.
I’m worried about Tristan, too. He was injured when I left, and although he seemed capable of taking care of himself—very capable actually—as the President’s son he is a target for the star dwellers. Which is why I need to get my mom and get home, so I can look after the ones I care about. Besides Tawni, they’re all I have left, and I can’t trust anyone else to do the job.
For the first time I notice the sounds of the infirmary. It is spooky, lying in the dark with the hushed whirs of breathing all around you, like the sounds of tiny waterfalls plunging into the depths. I try not to think about the multitude of diseases and ailments that likely afflict those around us.
My mind wanders as I try to unlock the mysteries of the universe, the things that have troubled me for days. Like what was Tristan trying to tell me? And who convinced the star dwellers to attack the Moon Realm? Was it this General that Trevor kept referring to? I roll these questions around in my head for hours, until behind my closed eyelids I sense the room lightening.
I open my eyes and jerk back against my mattress, which isn’t thick enough to prevent my head from thumping off the stone beneath. Trevor is standing over my bed, grinning. “What the hell?” I bark angrily. “Were you watching me sleep?”
“Good morning to you, too, Adele.”
I stare at him, eyes narrowed, as I try to decide whether to drive my foot into his ribcage. That’ll wipe the grin off his face. The room is indeed lit by dim panels on the ceiling. Although not bright by any means, relative to the abject darkness of the night the room appears luminous.
“I wasn’t watching you sleep, because you weren’t sleeping. You were flopping around like a fish out of water. Not like your friend, Tawni. She slept like the dead.” There it is again—the word “dead.” What a creep.
I don’t want to admit he’s right. “Maybe I was just dreaming heavily,” I say.
“Maybe not,” he says.
“In any case, you should get another hobby. Something you’re better suited to, like knitting or something.”
Trevor shrugs and ignores me. “It’s time to go meet the General.”
“Fine.” I gingerly swing my legs over the bed and get to my feet, hiding my discomfort beneath an indifferent expression. Although the aches from the Flu are gone, I’m stiff from all the bed rest. Ignoring Trevor, who watches me the whole way, I coax Tawni from her deep sleep with a gentle hand on her shoulder.
Her eyes roll open lazily. “Mmm.”
“Time to go.” I stand up and point a finger at Trevor. “You—out.”
Trevor’s eyebrows rise in surprise, but he recovers with a quick grin. “I’ll be back in five. Be ready.”
He turns robotically and weaves his way past the other beds. While I watch him to the door, I take in the room. Dozens of beds litter the room, strewn haphazardly at strange angles, no attempt made to line them up. There are bodies everywhere. Even in the light, they look dead. We are the only ones moving, so they might be, although like before, I can hear the soft sounds of sleep.
“Why were you so mean to him?” Tawni asks from behind me.
I turn to face my friend. “That was nothing—you should have heard me earlier, before you woke up.”
“He’s just trying to help.” She’s on her feet, hands on hips, her face tight and frowning. She’s taking this pretty seriously.
I sigh. “I don’t know, something about him just bothers me. He was watching me sleep.”
“He probably just walked up when you woke up.” Ahh, Tawni who sees the best in people. I can’t fault her for it. She saw the best in me even when I could not.
“You’re probably right. I’ll try to be more civil.” I don’t promise because I know I can’t keep it.
I scoop a folded tunic off the floor
under Tawni’s bed and hand it to her. Her lips curl into a smile, as if she can’t stay mad at me. Not after everything we’ve been through together. I retrieve my own change of clothes and hurriedly remove my sweat-stained tunic, catching a whiff of its Flu-stained scent. I make a face, toss it on the floor, and replace it with the new one. Tawni does the same and we’re ready to go.
Across the room, the door thuds open, sending echoes bouncing off the walls, unlike before when Trevor managed to sneak in and to the foot of my bed. The previously dead bodies stir, producing a cacophony of wake-up sounds. Groans, stretches, and yawns create a symphony of exhaustion.
Trevor stands between the door jambs. “Let’s go,” he says.
Cutting a path through the beds, I try to avoid looking at the faces of those we pass, but I can’t help it. It’s like the more you try not to look at something, the more your subconscious forces you to. I spot a woman with red pustules all over her face. Her eyes are an unnatural white, all color wiped from them by whatever disease assails her. She stares unseeing. Another man twitches again and again, wrought with seizures. I find it odd that we haven’t seen any nurses yet. Perhaps this is the place where they leave people to die. But not us. They helped us. Why? I do not know.
Without acknowledging either of us, Trevor leads us from the room, which leads directly to the outside, to the cavern that is subchapter 30 of the Star Realm. You can hardly call it a cavern. Compared to our massive caverns in the Moon Realm, this subchapter is set in a cave that’s more like a shoebox, the roof rising a mere fifty feet above our heads. The Sun Realm must have deemed the cost of further excavation not worth the benefits.
We pass through a cracking, crumbling courtyard surrounded by cracking, crumbling stone buildings. A statue of President Nailin stands pristine in the center. It is the only thing I see that is well maintained.
From the courtyard we enter an alley barely wide enough for three people to walk astride. Well, not an alley, apparently. Various similar-sized streets shoot off on either side. Evidently these are the standard roads in this subchapter. The buildings on either side rise up only three or four stories before connecting with the rocky cavern ceiling, almost like the buildings grew from the stone, like roots. There are no good views in this town.
