The Surge Trilogy (Book 3): We, The Final Few

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The Surge Trilogy (Book 3): We, The Final Few Page 15

by P. S. Lurie


  I like his honesty. It’s refreshing to hear someone own responsibility in what has happened; I know that firsthand by pretending for years that the migration of the homeless was nothing to do with me. “Were you there at the arena, that morning?”

  Zeke shakes his head. “We had already been told to pack up and move to the fortress. Why?”

  “Nothing. Just that you’d know who I was.” Anyone at the arena would remember the girl who smuggled in her baby sister and was promptly arrested.

  “All I know is you’re important to President Callister.”

  “She’ll realise I’m gone soon. I need to get out of here.”

  “First, we need to get you out of those clothes.” He stops outside a door and gestures for me to hide out of view.

  Zeke knocks. After a pause, a woman opens it, curious as to our presence. “Zeke? Shouldn’t you be at school?”

  “Faye left her biology textbook but wanted to attend an extra mathematics lesson before our lunch break. I said I’d pick it up for her.”

  The woman notices my shadow and peers past the doorframe. “Your friend?”

  Zeke stutters. “Sarah. Don’t you know her mother, from the library? She wasn’t feeling well so I said I’d also walk her back to her house. She vomited and that was all the nurse had for her to change into.”

  I hold my breath as the woman deliberates. “Wait here.”

  “Could I sit down for a moment?” I ask. “I’m feeling a bit faint.”

  “Ok.” She ushers us into the apartment and I’m amazed by how spacious and aesthetically pleasing the decorations and furnishings are. It’s like being in Kate’s apartment again except without windows. The woman leaves us in the living area as she goes to her daughter’s room.

  “What do we do now?”

  Zeke scrunches his face. “I prove that you can trust me.” He goes to the kitchen, then he adds, “No turning back,” as the woman reappears, empty-handed.

  “I’m not sure where...” but she trails off when she spots Zeke holding a knife in her direction.

  “Sit.”

  “What are you doing? Zeke?”

  “Theia, go in there and change.”

  “Theia? I thought you said Sarah?”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs Havelock.”

  I don’t wait around and before I know it I’m in the bedroom, almost feeling bad for going through some unsuspecting girl’s clothes. I’ve never had a choice before of what to wear and rifle through the options before I slip on a pair of denim trousers, a black halter-top and a green loose sweater on top. I step into a pair of simple shoes. I don’t care about my appearance except for being pleased that I’m a bit more incognito but I pass a mirror and catch my reflection. The clothes make me seem semi-alive but my face is gaunt and my hair a loose, straggly mess. I pull it back and tie it into a ponytail with a band that is in a heap of other accessories and make-up on the tabletop.

  “Where is she?” I ask, back in the living room.

  Zeke looks over to a door which he has locked by wedging a chair underneath the handle. “She won’t be raising an alarm anytime soon. But once they realise you’re gone, they’ll be on the hunt for you.”

  It reminds me of something. “I heard an alarm earlier.”

  “Oh, that was for me. Drink this.” Zeke hands me a glass of something dark and syrupy. I gulp it down. It’s cold and sweet.

  I guess I trust him. “Thanks. For all of this.”

  “Helps me out too. Now we just have the simple task of leaving.”

  I start to question whether I should leave without Leda. “My sister.”

  “We’ll have no chance in here. Look at us. President Callister needs you for some reason. She won’t risk hurting your sister if there’s a way to reconnect with you. You’re stronger away from here.”

  Zeke’s right but it’s not what I want; I’ve spent the past eighteen months fighting to be reunited with my sister and to move farther away goes against everything I think I should do. Maybe I could find the others, if they’re alive, and come back with more force. Then I remember something that Ronan said to me on top of the Fence. “Did you know there were people still in the Middlelands after the great cull?”

  “I heard something about it. Middlelanders who survived that night.”

  So that’s who they were. Ronan talked about them as if they were the enemy when really they were the dregs of my community. “They’re still alive now?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  I have to believe they are because up against the Upperlanders it’s the legion I need. Getting there is the hardest part and I figure that stealth is going to play a role but moving quickly will be necessary, especially given how it’s only a matter of time before President Callister knows I’m gone and we’re trapped. “So, the way out. How far from here?”

  Zeke frowns. “That’s not the issue. It’s that it’s always guarded.”

  Selene

  The Utopia took up so much space that the concourse now seems unbelievably wide.

  It proves impossible to locate exactly where I was standing when the ship exploded. Although the metal bow stands prominent, unaffected but isolated into the air at one end of the square, there is so little else left of the ship that placing my whereabouts during the blasts as the world toppled down on me means that I have to take an estimated guess. Ruskin and Jack came back to look for survivors but they didn’t hear any screams and there don’t seem to have been any missions to clean up the area since. The piles of rubble, bent steel, rivets and furnishings of the Utopia are blackened and create a labyrinth of paths that aren’t spread out enough to snake through but at least nothing is still smoking, unlike what the others reported. I climb over one mound but stumble as my foot snags from something that gives way.

  The rest of the Upperlands could appear to just be closed down for a public holiday, everyone gathered in the arena for some announcement, but this is a scene of total devastation. Worse, it was nothing less than genocide.

  I pause before clambering over the rubble because as I head towards the centre I will surely find thousands of bodies, trapped and rotten, unassumingly hopeful for setting sail and having no idea that President Callister thought so little of them. At least, unlike with the Middlelanders’ cull, they didn’t spend a night waiting for death to come their way; instead, the blasts were instant, ending their lives before they knew what was happening rather than choosing which family member could survive. Not having to say goodbye was a blessing in disguise when they were confronted with the end of their lives.

  I carry on. Considering this community idly watched the great cull, cheered our return and then condoned the monthly executions, my sympathy doesn’t extend far.

  I look at the surroundings, of three sides of a rectangle of blackened and collapsed apartments around the Utopia, with the entrance to the arena opening out for on the other side. I have no recollection of making my way to the elevator, with part of the Utopia protruding from my side, but I’m amazed that I had the strength to cross over the wreckage.

  The final part of the bridge connecting the Utopia to the Fence extended overhead but is now nothing more than part of the mess that I’m struggling to cross. My legs are sore from the unlevel surfaces and I have to stop to stretch them. This is pointless; I know that Nathaniel and I were to this side of the hull but it’s as good as searching for a needle in a haystack. It’s an impossible feat and the only luck I’d have of finding his decomposing body is if I come across a corpse rotting in a police uniform. Even then, I couldn’t be sure.

  A piece of glass shifts under my foot and I set off a mini avalanche of fragments of the Utopia that echoes in the surrounding area. I panic as some of the ruinous waste seems to come to life and takes flight. Then I hear caws.

  I missed it at first but the vicinity is full of scavenging birds. Most re-land but some hover for a while, locating anything nearby that they can claim. The crows have picked through the debris, working thei
r way towards whatever they could eat.

  I sit on a sloped pipe and watch as the birds prosper from the disaster area and my hair stands on end as I imagine that I could have just as easily have been food for them had I stood on the other side of Nathaniel. I could be here for hours but I don’t have the luxury of time before I have to make it back to the meeting point so I should write this trip off as a lost cause. Looking at the devastation, it’s obvious Nathaniel couldn’t have survived but shouldn’t the same apply to me? My hip is throbbing and it’ll take all the time I have left to retract my steps to the meeting point.

  I watch as a crow spreads its wings and launches into the sky. The flapping has no other sounds to compete with but then it is drowned out by a faint buzzing in the distance which builds up and overpowers everything. There’s nowhere for me to hide, apart from attempting to cover myself in the debris, so I’m exposed to the helicopter that comes into view from the direction of the fortress. It stops short of this area and doesn’t seem to have spotted me so I watch on as it hovers above the Upperlands and then descends onto the rooftop of an apartment block not too far from here.

  I can’t see anyone enter or exit the helicopter from this angle but the noise dims and the blades fall still.

  Although most of the buildings look the same, there’s something that draws me to this particular one. For some reason I’m convinced that it’s where I was held for a year. I don’t know if Ruskin, Melissa or anyone else saw the helicopter but I can’t help but feel that this was meant for me.

  I check my watch. I probably don’t have time.

  Probably.

  Jack

  We can’t see it but it sounds like a helicopter hums in the distance but that is the least of our worries because, from our hiding place, we watch as an army of young boys and girls, not yet teenagers, march past us in full uniforms with guns by their sides. I count about two hundred of the soldiers as they stomp past us in lines with no conversation between them. We’re undetected but also outnumbered by about fifty to one. A single false move and we’ll be gunned down by the heavily armed masses.

  We scrambled into the atrium as we heard them approach, short of one street from where Ronan said they would appear. The door to the first building’s entrance we tried was locked and we couldn’t break it or shoot the glass as that would reveal us so we ran and found that other buildings were more accommodating. Claire and I managed to sneak in through the entrance to one building where we now hide behind marble pillars. Ruskin and Dante managed to enter another across the way just within our view so as I put my head around the pillar I catch Ruskin’s gaze in between the lines of soldiers that filter through the street. Ruskin looks terrified, as must I.

  I look at the children with faces as severe as Ronan’s, just children from the Middlelands whose parents gave their lives for them to now be serving their capturers mindlessly. Claire peeks but almost instantly hides herself again and leans back against the column. I guess she must be imagining that had the cull played out a different way in her house then one of her children could have been in this formation.

  I grab her hand and throw her a smile. I want to say that we’ll work this out and save them all, and that we can somehow reverse the brainwashing just as with Ronan but I know that we’re likely to have to fight many of them. I employ the need for us to be silent to avoid saying anything.

  A few minutes pass as they filter through until we are out of danger. Claire shakes her head. “You think they’ll be ok?”

  “They had a good head start. And think about it, by the time they are that far out to sea they won’t be detected by thermal imaging. They’ll be too far away even if the soldiers wait until night time.”

  “I hope so.”

  The other two join us, having hot-footed across the street.

  “Guess Ronan was telling the truth,” I say.

  “Ronan said there were a few hundred,” Dante says, in an unusually sensitive manner. “Maybe that’s all of them. This is good for us.”

  “Let’s hope there’s no one left guarding the fortress,” says Ruskin.

  Claire checks her watch. “Still plenty of time before the others should be back. Do we wait for them here?”

  I think out loud, working through the options. “Makes sense. Even if others leave the fortress they’re likely to be in smaller groups. It’s likely that anyone heading to the Middlelands was in that troop. But...”

  “No,” Ruskin says, figuring out what I’m about to suggest before I’ve even said it aloud, knowing me too well.

  “I want to see it.” It would be easy to wait here but for some reason I’m compelled to follow the soldiers.

  “What?” Claire asks.

  “They won’t take a tunnel. There’s nothing to hold them back from marching through heavy-handed. They’ll take the most direct route. I want to see them open up the Fence.”

  Melissa

  I look out of the window as we roll towards the hospital. We should be slowing down as the train pulls into the station at a steady pace but carries on. “This is our stop” I shout to Ronan through the door that leads from the carriage into the driver’s compartment but I’m not sure if he can hear us. If anything it feels like we’re speeding up.

  Through the other side of the carriage I can see how the track winds round until it reaches a train that has stopped one or two stations away.

  “Ronan?”

  He doesn’t respond and we’re already one third of the way along the platform.

  Samuel tries the door but it doesn’t budge as it only opens from the driver’s side. Travis aims his gun. “Move to the side,” he shouts. He pulls the trigger and the gunshot reverberates as the lock blows open. Travis swings open the door and reveals Ronan’s body, slumped over the controls.

  “Anyone know how to stop this thing?” Tess asks, as the train picks up speed.

  Travis grabs Ronan. “Only one way off now.”

  I pull myself to the door and brace for impact. I leap and hit the ground and roll, holding my hands over my head to soften any blows. Samuel and Tess aren’t far behind and I watch as Tess lands awkwardly to protect her stomach. Travis jumps off the carriage with Ronan in his arms. Not one of us makes it on our feet.

  “Everyone ok?” Samuel asks.

  I catch Tess’s eyes. “Ok,” she says, and nods at me, her hands soothing her stomach rather than her head as she lies on her back. I stand up and watch as the train hurtles along the railway and it’s only a matter of seconds before it collides with the stationary one in front. The impact causes a loud smash and our train derails.

  “I guess we’re walking back,” says Travis.

  “If we haven’t been detected,” Samuel adds.

  I turn my attention to Ronan who is passed out. The platform has stained a crimson red. He’s lost a lot of blood and can’t afford to lose more.

  Travis and Samuel carry him as we hurry out of the station and into the hospital, not stopping to check if it’s safe to enter or to give me any time to prepare myself for returning to the place I worked for the Upperlanders, where my loyalty was tested daily if anything went wrong with my patients’ health. “This way,” I say, navigating us into the stairwell and up a few floors into the paediatrics department.

  Ronan comes to as he’s placed onto a bed. “Theia?”

  “It’s Melissa. Hold still.” I fetch a tray with some sterilising solution and find sutures, a needle and scissors that haven’t rusted. It’s not the best job as I stitch his forehead but Ronan doesn’t flinch as I seal the cut. If the hospital was in full working order I’d connect him to a drip and consider a blood transfusion.

  I order Tess and Travis to find any liquids that can replenish him but what he needs most is time, which is something we don’t have. It’s only then that I take in what I’ve achieved; one thing I can be grateful to the Upperlanders for is how much I learnt in their hospital, not just medical procedures but in building confidence and assertiveness.
/>   Ronan sits up. “I’m fine.” He tries to climb off the bed but looks nauseous and clutches his head. “Maybe not so fine.”

  “Drink this,” Travis says, as he throws a bottle towards the boy.

  Ronan grabs the drink without difficultly. “Thanks.”

  “Is he ok?” Samuel asks me.

  I bite my lip. “He lost so much blood.” I look around at the hospital kit, wondering how out of date some of the resources are. I want to stock up on certain supplies to take with me and I can’t avoid Tess looking hopeful that since we’re here I can do something for her but right now my focus is Ronan. “The sutures should hold but... we’re not going anywhere unless... anyone feeling brave?”

  Zeke

  We’re back on the move, my bond to Theia solidified as soon as Faye’s mother finds a way to report me or someone goes to check on Theia’s cell. I’m a traitor and it’s just a matter of time before the alarm is raised once more. I assume the guards thought I’d burnt alive in the vents or they have other matters to attend to; maybe President Callister’s explanation of something important happening today has diverted their attention. We have more of a chance now that Theia is wearing inconspicuous clothes and it pays off when we pass a couple of men who don’t give us a second glance even if we should be in the school. Next time we might not be so lucky.

  I’ve only been to the entrance of the fortress once, having not expected to return there until we migrated towards the sea in order to establish a new, longer-lasting city; it’s not unpleasant up here but the space can’t support any larger a population and we spend most of our time inside in faked conditions. Artificial lighting, a heating system and a supply of food that must be wearing out. I shake my head out of my daydream: I won’t be going anywhere with the Upperlanders, whether I want to or not. Now that my father is dead and I have betrayed my friends and neighbours, I have only Theia for company. It’s not what I expected when I woke up – I check one of the watches – five hours ago.

 

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