Under the Mountain: A POST APOCALYPTIC NOVEL (Into the Outside Book 3)

by Lynda Engler

  When the scene on the monitor changed to a different news story, the waiter turned the volume down again and the group at the table turned back to each other, with varied looks of astonishment or dread.

  “Civic duty?!” said a couple of the voices.

  “Radical extremists?!” echoed yet others.

  “This is just getting worse by the moment,” said Teagan, her face flushed and her eyebrows lowering as she got angrier. “And we wonder why people have such unspeakable beliefs about the treatment of new humans. It’s no wonder they think the way they do when all they hear in the media is this rhetoric, day after day. They are brainwashed to belief this crap.” She pointed her finger down as she spat the words. Everyone at Mt. Weather lived below the concourse, so pointing down was the accepted way of indicating a nebulous them.

  Her older brother Hayden nodded quickly and replied, “Teag is right. This has to stop, and we have to stop it. We can’t just free a few mutants at a time anymore. We have to do something radical. If they are going to call us that, then let’s live up to our name! No more hiding and biding our time.”

  Roan held both hands up in front of him and frustration creased his eyes. “Hold on guys. Slow down. We can’t just get some soldiers on our side and march in. We need a plan. Then we need to convince our whole society that our plan is the right one. Otherwise, we do just come across as a bunch of radical malcontents.”

  “We do,” said Luke. “And we need to see what happens with Dr. Rosario’s second version of the vaccine, and how long that takes. It could be done in a week or maybe not for another year or longer. Who knows. But it will change everything about our relationship with the Outside. Everything we know about life – shelters, FREs, underground cities – will change in an instant. That cleaning trip to Richmond – well, that city will suddenly be populated with shelter folk. If we don’t start getting attitudes to change before people from around the country start moving above ground, I think our chances of securing a better life – or any life at all – for the mutants, will be over.”

  They ate and talked for two more hours, covering every aspect of philosophy, group psychology, and sociology they knew, putting together a strategy to – quite literally – change the world.

  August 24, 2101

  Chapter Eighteen

  Malcolm

  After three more days in the dirty, overcrowded cell, Malcolm was about to lose his mind. When the soldiers had thrown them back in the prison after the failed escape, they had put Shia and Andra in the same cell as Kalla, which was a small consolation for Malcolm. At least the girls had each other. If he and Clay could not be with them, at the very least they could have a semblance of conversation with them by passing messages from cell to cell. The prisoners eagerly took to the system Malcolm devised because any form of social intercourse was a relief.

  The guards did not seem to care if the mutants talked from one cell to the next, but if they raised their voices, the sentries quieted them with the firehose technique that West Point had been so fond of. It did not take long for that experience to teach prisoners to be quiet. New prisoners arrived about every two or three weeks, and those who had been captive longer – the veterans – passed along the rules to the newbies. Malcolm did not have to endure being knocked over from a powerful firehose to learn to be silent – his one experience with that at West Point had been enough.

  There was not much to do during the long days in the cold cells, so they talked a lot. Prisoners exchanged stories of their lives and their travels Outside. The oldest prisoner in their cell had also been captive the longest. At almost 20, Jarrick was even older than Malcolm was. He had a daughter and a mate in another cell.

  “Our tribe is from just this side of the Big Muddy River in the middle of the country. I miss that river,” said Jarrick wistfully. “Except for spring flood time, it’s calm enough for even the little ones to swim in, and there are fish in it that swim so close to the shore, you can club them to death with a rock. They make mighty good eating.” Lost in thought, Jarrick stared at his bowl of dinner gruel until Malcolm prodded him to continue. Growing up in the devastated city of Ewr and then traveling through wooded, jungle areas, Malcolm had never experienced river life and he was eager to hear about it.

  “What happened?” Malcolm wanted to know how Jarrick had ended up at Mt. Weather but did not want to pry into the older man’s personal space. In the crowded cell, the only place a person truly had privacy was inside their thoughts. Jarrick was almost always quiet and broody, spending more time inside his own head than the others did.

  “We was swimming, me and my mate Gendi, and our two babies. Fen, he’s the younger one, and Ezbeth, she’s my big girl. She’s four and a really good swimmer. She’s got webbed fingers like your friend over there.” He nodded toward Clay with his chin, who smiled back in acknowledgement before Jarrick continued. “Loves the water. The kids were starting to prune, they loved that river so much. Gendi made them get out and dry off. My kids, they love to run around naked as the day they was born.” Jarrick made a sort of a laugh deep down in his throat, almost as if he had forgotten how to and the unfamiliar sound got stuck on the way out.

  “So Fen, naked and wet, he runs toward the trees and I’m getting out of the river to go after him, and next thing I knows, there is a soldier in a body-covering suit coming toward us, with Fen dangling from his upraised left arm. He held my boy like he was made of feathers, pointed his gun at me, and said to walk outta’ the water real slow like. So of course, I did. I know what guns is. I stood beside Gendi, who had scooped up Ezbeth and was holding the dripping wet girl on her hip.” Jarrick stopped and let out a small sob. It did not come from his mouth – Malcolm felt it escape from the distraught man’s heart and leak directly through his skin.

  He waited until Jarrick inhaled sharply and returned to his story.

  “The soldier’s voice comes loudly from inside his big helmet and orders us to walk toward the trees and get in his vehicle. We was not gonna argue. We done nothing wrong and we don’t want no trouble. Gendi starts walking and I follow, then I turn back to the soldier to make sure he’s bringing my little boy and …” Jarrick broke down and finally let the sobs escape. “He throws Fen to the ground. Hard. I hear my boy’s head crack on a rock and see his … his limp body. He’s just lying there, blood coming from his head. I start to run back to Fen and the soldier… he fires his gun at my feet, almost blowing my left foot off. Gendi is screaming. Oh so loud, she’s screaming and I’m screaming and Fen … oh Fen, he’s just lying there, and blood so dark it’s almost black is pooling under him.”

  Tears were rolling uncontrollably down Jarrick’s face as he sat on the concrete floor. Malcolm did not know what to do. He wanted to help the man, and reached toward him, but Jarrick backed away, scooting across the floor until his back was against the cold, concrete wall.

  Jarrick continued. “The soldier, all he says is ‘We don’t need any this young. They are useless.’ He points his gun at Gendi and tells her to stop crying and start walking. So we do. There wasn’t nuthin we could do but walk where he told us to, all three of us with tears pouring down our cheeks as hard as the Big Muddy after a rain. We was shoved through an airlock and sat inside that big truck thing they brought us here in. There was other mutants there. No one we knew. The rest of our tribe must have got away.”

  At this point, Malcolm went to Jarrick and sat beside him, forcing a bear hug on him whether the older man wanted it or not. He held Jarrick that way for an eternity, rocking slightly, until his tears stopped and he finally pulled away, uttering an embarrassed, “Thank you.”

  * * *

  Luke

  That night, they received a message from Dr. Rosario that he had news about the vaccine and they should be there when he got home so he could fill them in. Luke wished Teagan could be there but she had to work until ten o’clock. He would have to let her know after the fact, which, he mused, would be a good excuse to drop in on her tonight. He
smiled at the thought.

  Luke and Isabella busied themselves while waiting for the scientist to arrive. Home, his message had said. That word might work for the Dr. Rosario, but Luke did not feel like this apartment was his home. He had only ever had one home in his entire life, and everything else since then had simply been temporary accommodations while traveling. Just because he did not want to return to his family shelter back up in New Jersey, did not mean Mt. Weather was home … at least not yet. He was not sure where he would finally settle, and had very much considered staying at Mt. Weather since he had met Teagan. Much depended on how Dr. Rosario’s vaccine research developed. Until then, he had no home.

  Isabella busily cooked everything she had ever wanted to eat but had never had the ingredients for. She had spent the morning putting together a list and then shopping for the ingredients for the recipes she found on Mt. Weather’s computer system.

  Luke used that same computer system – they called it the internet – to find games he could play against the computer or other remote players. He used the large monitor in the living room that they had watched movies on to pretend to shoot aliens and foreign invaders. The games were meticulously detailed, vivid, and loud, and used technology even his grandfather could never have imagined. Luke stood in front of the monitor and pretended to hold a gun and the monitor tracked his body and mirrored it with the character in the game. He was so engrossed in moving around the room, firing at an alien spaceship that he literally jumped a foot in the air when Dr. Rosario placed a hand on his shoulder behind him.

  “My boy…” the scientist began. As Luke jumped, the doctor began to laugh and mutter something about being sorry he startled Luke, but he was laughing so hard, Luke seriously doubted the man had any regret at all.

  Isabella giggled from the kitchen and called them both to the table to sample today’s adventures in cooking. Not everything she had made so far was actually edible.

  After his heart rate slowed down from its sudden acceleration, Luke drank a glass of soda in one long swallow and dug into the mystery meal on his plate. Whatever the brown object on the right side of the plate was, it tasted good. “Um, what am I eating?” he asked.

  “That is chicken Marsala with a red wine and mushroom sauce. The green stuff – you may recall vegetables from home...” her voice exuded her usual sarcasm. “That is creamed kale. I think you can identify those orange things as carrots, although you’ve never had the spicy herb mixture they are cooked it because we never had jalapeno peppers at home. Hope you like it.” She plastered an enigmatic smile on her face, proud of her own skills. Luke had to admit that Isabella’s meal was a hit. Every bite exploded in about four different flavors. He liked all of it except for the spicy carrots. He had come to the conclusion that spicy just was not his thing. At least there were no Brussel sprouts.

  Dr. Rosario ate while telling them his news. Based on how ravenously he filled his mouth, Luke thought he had forgotten to eat again all day. “To make a long story short, we are ready to test the second formula. As a matter of course, we have tested it on rats, and it has not caused them any harm. Actually, it appears to work better than the first vaccine, at least on radiation. It may not be perfect and I am not certain I would entrust the safety of our entire population to this vaccine at this time. I do believe it would be prudent to vaccinate all workers and soldiers who must travel Outside, but I do not think we are at the point where we can send people above ground without chem-rad suits.”

  “Isn’t that why you need to test it?” asked Isabella, putting down her fork to take a drink of soda.

  Like his sib, and unlike the scientist, Luke had the sense to swallow before talking, but then he had already eaten two meals today. He would forgive the old man for his lapse in manners. “And what’s the rush anyway? We’ve lived under the earth for more than 50 years. Another few won’t change anything.”

  Dr. Rosario swallowed the last bite of chicken and put his fork and knife down on the edge of his plate. “I am not sure that President Harrison would agree with you. I am starting to think that his motivations are more selfish than they are for the common good. I think he wants history to remember him as the man who was president when humanity reclaimed the Earth. It’s the only logical conclusion I can come up with. Everything I have seen is showing me that he is moving forward with more haste than sense. Certainly, things are moving faster today than they have under any of his predecessors.”

  Luke said, “I hadn’t even thought of personal motivations in all of this. I just thought that he hated mutants, like everyone else, and has no problem using them to his advantage and exterminating them when they don’t serve a purpose. That’s horrible to say, but I can understand that way of thinking. It’s ingrained in shelter folk’s mindset. It was in mine until I went Outside and got to know them. But I think you are right. Harrison is motivated by the promise of fame.”

  Isabella nodded in agreement. “All our lives, we’ve just assumed that the 100-year mark is when we can start to think about moving back Outside. Since we are only at the 51-year mark, I’m not sure why this president has been so keen to get the clean-up crews out there. I mean, he had no idea that you would come along with a potential vaccine that could speed up the time line, but now that you have, he is going to take full advantage of it.”

  Luke said slowly and quietly, “Yes. Lucky for President Tyler Harrison that you happened along.” He shook his head and then rolled his eyes. He did not do sarcasm as naturally as Isabella did, but nevertheless, did his best to be cynical.

  Dr. Rosario nodded. “My luck is, as always, bad. Regardless, I am convinced the vaccine works under normal radiation conditions Outside, just not under the simulated radiation we are testing, because it is just too much at a time. The first version works too – the one I gave both of you – but the second should offer more protection from chemicals. Both are effective against radiation up to a point. We will begin testing V2 on mutants tomorrow. I’m sorry but that means more bombardment testing on them. I have a meeting with the president tomorrow at which time I will protest the cold-hearted treatment of the mutants, and propose instead a scientific and humane test in which we inoculate them and send them Outside. If they insist on using them to clean up the radiation, then he may send the test subjects to those cities with my sanction. If the vaccine is as effective as I think it is, it will protect the test subjects to a point. Any other type of test is completely unscientific and does not even warrant consideration. Harrison is a politician – not a scientist. Hopefully he will be reasonable about this.” Dr. Rosario crossed his arms as he leaned back in his chair.

  “Hopefully,” muttered Luke and Isabella in harmony.

  A few hours later, Luke left their apartment to meet with Teagan and update her on the vaccine, and Isabella set off to meet with Daphne with the same purpose.

  Luke also had another reason. He could not wait to see Teagan again, and hoped her parents would be out for the evening. He met her at Indigo when she finished work and walked her back to her domi, hand in hand. When they got there, unfortunately her parents were home. As much as that put a crimp in Luke’s private plans for the evening, he had wanted to meet her parents so he made the best of it.

  Kirsten and Quade Reese were younger than Luke had expected. His own mother, Mari, was 51, not having had the opportunity to meet a man and get pregnant until later in life when his father, the soldier whom he and his sibs called Johnny Appleseed, found their shelter on a mission designed to seek out surviving families. Kirsten turned out to be only 43 and Quade a year older than his wife. Like their eclectic home furnishings, Kirsten and Quade were bohemian. They dressed like something out of a 1970s movie, and insisted they call them by their first names.

  “It’s nice to finally meet this unique boy our daughter has been telling us so much about,” said Kirsten after Teagan made introductions. She was tall and thin, with paper white skin as was not uncommon with shelter folk. Lack of sunshine and vitamin D t
ook its toll on shelter folk, even though they tried to combat it with UV lights and supplements. Her husband was the mirror opposite of her. He was squat and plump, and had medium brown skin. Luke could see where Teagan and Hayden got their straight black hair, although Teagan’s green eyes clearly came from Kirsten.

  “I’ve heard a lot about both of you as well,” responded Luke. Actually, Teagan did not talk much about her parents, preferring instead to listen to his stories rather than tell her own. She thought her family was ordinary. However, he had formed some ideas about them from the way their apartment was furnished, what they did for a living, and the fact that they did not have anything against their eighteen-year-old daughter bringing a boy into her room. “She didn’t tell me how young you were though.”

  Kirsten smiled radiantly at the compliment. Luke had meant it sincerely and hoped Teagan’s mother didn’t think he was trying to ingratiate himself with her. “That’s because I am young. Quade and I were dating in high school and we got married when I got pregnant with Hayden at nineteen. A bit earlier than we had planned, but still a happy accident. I was able to finish my job training before he was born, so it worked out fine.”