Aquifer

by Jonathan Friesen

  “And I’m in a cell with you.” I shift against the iron. “I’ve heard rumors of these secret pens. Holding areas before an undoing.”

  “Your eyes took quite a flash.” Another shadow hoists a lantern. “Look around once more.”

  In the light’s lazy glow, I catch sight of the exit — a circular door, thick and immense, fit into a wall of steel.

  A bank vault! Gold bars are stacked in one corner, silver bars line the far wall. “You stole all this,” I say. “You broke in here and stole it.”

  “So quick to judge to the bad. Think, Luca. If we were thieves, we sure didn’t get far.” Akov gestures toward the others. “Make room. Let’s bring Luca around our fire.”

  The smoke hangs above us and burns my throat, but I’m warm, which is enough. None of the people gathered look frightening or cruel. Twelve men, a few women, and two girls, one about my age.

  “Are you going to let me go?” I ask.

  “Oh, Luca. You aren’t being detained. Terrance mended you. He says you’ll be stiff, but you can leave anytime.” A girl speaks, and when she does I gasp. Emile. It’s Emile, a Fifteen.

  I lean forward, feel the pain in my thigh, and cough in the smoke. “Please just tell me where I am. I need to reach …”

  Do I tell them I want to reach the Amongus?

  “You wanted to get inside the barricade. You wanted to follow your comrades,” Akov whispers. “But you paused, and that pause saved your life. We saw.”

  “Luck,” I say.

  “There is no such thing.” Emile reaches over and sweeps matted hair off my face. Her touch feels good. Should it feel good?

  “You were protected,” she continues. “As we all are.”

  “By …”

  “By the Voice.”

  How do you know what I hear … Wishers!

  Weeks ago, I would have considered myself fortunate to be in their company. I used to have so many questions. Now thoughts of Seward and Talya consume my mind. “Can you get me into the compound?”

  “When you can walk,” says Akov.

  I throw off my blankets and grimace myself to vertical. I hobble around the room. “I’m good.”

  Akov rubs his face. “You’ll be one more day with us, and then, yes, we will see what we can do.” He pauses. “It is a pleasure to speak to you. Most of us have traveled far to reach New Pert. We were born in Siberska and lived on the rim of Lake Baikal. But it, too, dried. We journeyed far to reach this place, and have picked up a few stragglers these last days.” He glances at Emile.

  “We’ve been waiting for you, Luca. We were forewarned of your return, and your distress.” Emile gazes into me.

  “Who told you? Wait … let me guess. This Voice spoke to you.” I tongue my cheek. “And since we’re all listening to the crazy voice in our heads, did it happen to say anything else I should be aware of? Maybe a clue about my father’s location, or something useful like, say, how to get over that wall without blowing up?”

  “More was said.” Akov grows somber. “Luca, you must stay alive. Much depends on it.”

  Above us I hear a slamming of metal.

  “We’re compromised.” Akov leaps to his feet, bends over, and hoists me over his shoulder. “Emile, Suzanya, with me. The rest of you, my blessed comrades, don’t fear — pray.”

  “We’ll see you soon, Akov.” The man who blanketed me now smothers the fire. With perfect precision, the entire group slips silently out of the vault and into the elevator.

  “Where are you going?” I call. The door slowly closes. Akov waits, listens. The sound of clanking vanishes.

  “They go to find a way out for you,” Akov whispers, and another minute passes.

  “Maybe it was nothing.”

  Akov exhales. “It’s never nothing. Now it’s our turn. We’ll take a different path.”

  We enter the stairwell, climb one flight, and stop. “Luca, pain or no, you will need to run.” As Akov sets me down, I feel his heartbeat quicken. Before I can ask him what lies before us, he peeks through the glass of the stairwell door and bows his head. I steal a look, and my jaw drops.

  The Wishers stand, hands clasped, a wall blocking the elevator door. Across from them, men. Shouting men. Men with guns. Where did those men get guns?

  “The Amongus boy! Where have you sheltered him?” They point their weapons at my protectors. As one, the Wishers drop to their knees, lifting their palms to the sky.

  A shot rings out, and a woman slumps to the ground. Then another. I can’t bear to watch, but I can’t turn away. I’ve never seen this much hate, or this much sacrifice.

  They hardly know me.

  Akov gazes into my eyes and whispers, “Luca, they do this for you.” Tears stream down his cheeks as he lifts his head toward a room filled with undones. “They’re now home; their role in the prophecy is now fulfilled. But you still have a part to play. You must complete your task.”

  But I don’t know this prophecy. I don’t know my task.

  “Onto the elevator! They must be below.” A young man, far too young to undo another, punches the elevator button, and soon the life-takers disappear.

  “Now.” Akov pushes out into what is now a chamber of death. I limp over toward the first body, but Akov’s hand jerks me back. “These bodies no longer need our attention. We go.”

  Together with the girls, we push out into the night, winding through the shadows.

  My leg is on fire when minutes later we reach the cinder block wall — all that remains of the Amongus’s defenses.

  Call your name.

  The Voice wasn’t Akov’s, and I obey at once.

  “Radney! Radney!”

  A rope flings over the top and lands at my feet. I barely have time to react before Akov ties a loop in the bottom and sticks my foot into it. He then gives a quick tug and it pulls taut, hoisting me in jerks skyward.

  A single shot rings out and draws my eyes downward.

  Suzanya has vanished and Emile is undone, with Akov alone kneeling at her side. He looks up, cups his hands, and disappears into the darkness.

  “Oh, my boy!” Seward reaches up and lifts me down to safety. “We thought … Well, I thought …”

  He gently lowers me to the ground, where Talya draws me near.

  I soak in her touch.

  “I never left the wall,” she whispers, “I knew you’d come.”

  “You don’t know the cost.” I pull free and let myself mourn for those in the bank, and my tears turn to rage. I no longer know who to hate.

  Yet some truths are certain. Wren was right: the Wishers gave everything for me.

  Outside, in the vault, I’d found a tiny pocket of peace.

  Within the blockade, all is mayhem.

  Men, women, and children rush about, though where they are going is not clear. There’s a fire here as well, a blazing bonfire stoked by a pile of Amongus uniforms — and a man with charred skin feeds the flames. Tents by the hundreds fill the spaces between downtown buildings. Broken glass and an occasional body accent the chaotic scene.

  I finish my retelling of Akov and Emile and what I saw in the vault. Seward’s face is tight, unreadable. Talya can’t stop hugging me.

  We are sitting in silence when the Amongus escort walks smartly over to us. “Still alive. The Fates are with you. As I told your father, there was a fight around the pier, and we pushed them back long enough to build the wall. You should have stayed nearer. Nothing is safe outside.”

  A woman screams in the distance.

  The escort rubs his tired face and continues. “Inside, you may fare little better.”

  Kopter blades cut the night air, and within the walls scurrying gains purpose. Everyone presses toward the marble stairs, the only lit-up area I see. Rotors thump overhead, and the kopter slows and lands on top of the museum.

  “The Council airlifts us food and water, removing us twelve at a time. Twelve,” the escort whispers. “So few. Kopters land on the hour, but there are too many who are hu
ngry, thirsty. Landings on the minute would still not be enough.”

  “Where does it take you … us?” Seward asks.

  “To the PM’s island. By Council decree, the PM has withdrawn all Watchers from the mainland. The promise is that our families will be cared for on the isle, and we will be safe.”

  I whisper to Seward as privately as I can. “Perhaps what we needed was not so much in the museum, but on the museum.” I point at the kopter. “Would this take us to Father?”

  Seward perks up and straightens. “Aye, Radney, that it might.” He pats my back and turns to our escort. “I thank you for safe passage. However this ends for us, we are in your debt.”

  The Amongus frowns at Seward’s hand and then nods. “Very well.”

  The three of us walk quickly toward the marble stairs. Ten Amongus, still dressed in pressed uniforms, guard the entrance. There will be no sneaking by them. Not in this crowd.

  “Even if we can get into the museum now, there is little chance they can airlift us this soon!” I shout above the noise. “And I have some commitments to keep!”

  Seward rolls his eyes. “To a pair of undones, who will be none the wiser!”

  Talya grabs my arm, and my uncle’s ear. “We’ll meet you here in three hours. You find a way to get us on the kopter.”

  I look at Talya and then Seward, who scratches his cheek. Finally he straightens his uniform. “No problem, mates. I’ll see to that tiny issue right away.”

  We wander the streets asking Amongus if anyone knows Phale. It is not a wise thing to do, not when every person here should know my face. No, it is not the wise thing, but with Talya at my side it feels right.

  “Wife of Phale?” we shout.

  “Who’s calling me?”

  A hand reaches out from the shadows. “Has Phale been called to the kopter? Take me to him. Take me away from here!”

  She shakes my arm until it aches. I wrench my limb free of her grasp.

  “You’re … You’re really his wife?” Talya steps nearer to the woman. “We bring news.”

  “News? There’s not time for news. Take me to him!”

  It’s not her.

  The Voice confirms my thoughts. “What about your son? Where is he?”

  “He died in the riots. My precious son, my precious … Where are you going?”

  “Son, huh?” I catch Talya’s gaze, and we hurry away from her, but a widows’ chorus has begun:

  “Phale!”

  “Tell me of my husband!”

  “Have you found him?”

  “Can I board the kopter?”

  Desperate women leap at us from the shadows, and we duck behind a tent to wait until the frenzy passes and the only noise we hear is the usual cries. “I think we can resume our search,” I say.

  After hours of failure, Talya trips over success. Literally. She stumbles over a woman sitting cross-legged in front of her ripped tent.

  “I’m sorry,” Talya says. “Wife of Phale? Do you know where I might find her?”

  The woman’s eyes grow and fill with tears. She clenches her teeth, as if willing her face to calm. “My man’s name is Phale. What word?”

  Talya looks closely into her eyes, hugs her, and lets tears fall. Inside her embrace, the woman softens, dropping her head onto Talya’s shoulder. If everyone would allow Talya to hug them, they would feel much better.

  Of course, I wouldn’t.

  “We bring news of him,” I interrupt. “We last saw him two days ago, alive and well. He asked us to greet you and your baby daughter.”

  The woman crumbles backward onto the pavement, rocked by heavy sobs. She claws at her face, and then her tent. Talya kneels and moves closer, but receives a kick in the face for her effort.

  I jump to Talya’s side and help her to her feet. “Did I say it wrong?”

  “No,” Talya whispers. “I think you just delivered a message. And I don’t think it was a greeting.”

  Foolish me. Any baby daughter would still be with the Developers!

  We back away from the picture of grief. I’m unsure I want to find Connyr’s family, though I am rather certain I know where they’ll be found. I wander the perimeter of the wall until I reach the main gate. Amongus, still dressed the part, discuss news from the world outside.

  “Any patrols would leave through here. Their families would wait for them …” I glance around and see a group of thirty huddled near a fire. “There.”

  I wander over to the group. “Connyr? Do any of you know a —”

  A woman stands. “Connyr is my man.”

  Do I tell them they’re widows?

  I clear my throat. “Connyr’s wife and children have been granted room on the next kopter.”

  She casts me a sideways glance. “Without our men to speak for us, we can’t get on. We —”

  “This special honor is due the family of a man who displayed great heroism, and great compassion,” I say, and with my words women wail. They know. Their men will not come home.

  Talya lays her hand on the woman’s head. “There is room on the next kopter for the three of you. Do you wish to come?”

  “I wish many things,” she hisses.

  “Go, Meline. Go.” Another woman pulls two girls to their feet. “Here, take your daughters and go. Nothing remains for us here.”

  Meline squints at me. “There is room for us? The PM has never rewarded his Watchers for kindnesses. How is this true?”

  I tell the truth. “I don’t know.”

  Meline thinks and stares at her children. “Come, young ones. We are leaving.”

  “Without Father?” her youngest cries as she latches on to her mother’s leg.

  Meline fixes her eyes on me.

  “Yes,” she says. “Your father has provided the way.”

  Talya leans over. “How are we going to do this?”

  I don’t have a clue. I harbor no plan. But I am nearer to my father than I have been for some time, and the nearness emboldens me.

  Father. I’m coming.

  CHAPTER

  32

  We weave our way through the crowd to the museum.

  Hope vanishes on the way.

  There is no way to reach the marble steps, much less climb them to become one of twelve passengers. Not given my size, and not given the ten — Wait. I count again: eleven Amongus guard the door. There is a new Watcher. One who looks conspicuously like my uncle.

  “Leave it to a pirate,” I say, and tuck escaping hair back beneath my hood. “Follow me.”

  We press into the mob. I jump and wave and shout wildly. Seward slaps the Amongus on his left, who catches my uncle’s wrist and lowers it forcefully to his side. The Watcher strides down into the crowd, shoving, throwing bodies out of the way.

  He stands before me, looks me up and down. “There is a familiar feel to you. We have met.”

  Barker! I drop my gaze. The undoer who violated my home.

  “I don’t think so.” I point at the stairs. “You may know my father.”

  “Your father …” He raises his eyebrow. “Let’s hope your father is as honest as he is crafty. Go, Radney. And daughter Talya. Go. And the three guests. Go!” He yanks us all onto the stairs. Seward turns smartly, and we all pile through the oaken door and into the museum.

  How I’ve missed this place.

  The statues are broken, but the ceiling is still beautiful, and when the large doors thud behind me all is quiet. For a moment, sanity is back. Home is back. I’ll climb up and have tea with Wren and talk about history and the weather, everything and nothing.

  “Room for six more!”

  A voice from the roof. The door behind us opens and more Amongus pile in.

  “We can’t separate!” Seward says, and dashes upward. I grab one young girl while Meline grabs the other, and together we pound up the steps with Talya close behind. We are all focused on a singular goal until we reach the tearoom.

  “Talya!” I turn. “Take her. I’ll be right there.”


  I step into the room, my sanctuary. Stars twinkle through the skylight and I dash to Wren’s rocking chair. She’s gone. Of course she is, but she feels here somehow. A half-filled cup of tea rests on the stand, along with an open book covered with scratches — Wren’s writing:

  The Voice spoke again tonight in fragments I do not understand. Pieces I heard:

  The Prophecy

  “Okay,” I whisper. “About time. What are you all willing to die for?”

  Words must be shared …

  Hope must be shared …

  The End …

  The end can come …

  It all depends on Luca …

  Here in the quiet, I can’t bring anything together. Maybe tomorrow, Luca can.

  “Sorry, Wren. He can’t. Words. Hope. Endings.” I scratch my head. “If this was supposed to guide me, we’re in trouble. Bits of a prophecy aren’t enough.”

  Lower on the page, a tiny scribble.

  There’s a pounding on the museum door below. It’s time to leave.

  “Luca!” Seward hollers. “Time to leave!”

  I fly out the room and burst through the door onto the roof, where the thump of rotors blows me back a step.

  Seward helps me up and runs toward the kopter, throwing me in and landing beside with a thud.

  “That’s twelve!” the pilot shouts while skids lift from the museum. “No more!”

  We ease into the sky as another family explodes onto the roof.

  They are left behind, at least for another hour. Yet they are lucky; they made it through the museum. I stare down at them. An Amongus with his wife and child, locked in embrace, their faces desperate.

  We could change places. We could wait one more hour. Then I could read more about that prophecy.

  I think of Lendi. I stare down at the Amongus.

  I no longer know who is friend.

  Seward gazes at his feet. Missing is the triumphant wink, the I-have-accomplished-the-impossible. There is only shame. I don’t want to know what he did to get us aboard.

  The thump of kopter blades is hypnotic, and I fade in and out of sleep.

  “Veer left, Haifer,” the lead Amongus yells to the pilot, which yanks me back to consciousness. “Detour to another isle.” He stares back at Seward. “Needing your guidance.”