by Ann Christy
She picked the smaller leaves, washed them in the stream and ate them slowly, one at a time. It took some of the hunger pains away. It wasn’t much, but everyone said that dandelion leaves were very healthy and pregnant women were always eating them to be sure their babies would be strong.
As the sun moved to the other side of the wall of dust—or perhaps she should call it a cap because clearly a limited expanse was covered by it—the light changed. The sky filled with gold and red and finally, purple. She sat and watched it, holding the ball so they could see what she did. When the light fell, a sudden sound from the trees startled her. Tucking down further into her nest behind the shrub, she peered out thinking she might see the giant cat again. Instead, she saw a group of animals coming out of the forest and stepping lightly toward the stream.
They were almost indescribable so she held up the ball toward them instead. No one would believe her description. Graceful, long legged and gentle-eyed, some of them had huge growths on their heads that branched out to such a size Lillian couldn’t imagine how they held up their heads. The growths looked soft and fuzzy but also intimidating. Little ones followed along on awkwardly long legs. They stretched out all along the stream, though they didn’t act like they were together. When she stretched out to see further down the stream, her noise attracted the attention of some nearby animals.
One of the big ones made a snorting noise and stomped its feet, leaping into the air with a look she could see was surprise. At the sound, all the others started as well and the rumble of their feet as they ran further up the stream made her clap her hands over her ears. Some of the little ones, whistling in distress, were slower but still faster than she could ever run. She felt bad for ruining their drink, so she settled back into her nest and resolved to make no more moves.
The darkness was frightening at first but she understood what the stars were, though they were rarely seen and never like she saw them now. They were so thick it was almost oppressive. When the moon rose, she was grateful that many of the stars faded back under the glare of it. The moon looked like a smile turned sideways and she had never seen it fully before. In the viewscreen, it was always just a smudge of brightness or not there at all.
When she had settled down to sleep, looking at the moon with the ball tucked close to her body, she was so tired she thought she would drop off right away. But the night was filled with sounds that kept her awake. Creatures chittered to each other in the forest and it sounded for all the world like they were arguing. A high whistling noise that reminded her of a woman crying made her shiver. Scrabbling footsteps that matched nothing she could see kept her head on a swivel. It was only complete exhaustion that finally put her into a fitful half-sleep.
In the bright light of morning it all seemed so distant and she smiled into the camera ball and mouthed, “Good morning.” The pain and stinging on her back was far less today but more itchy. Her face was stiff and sore with newly forming scabs but that was an improvement over the raw feeling of the day before. Climbing out of her bed of needles, her skin suit sticky from the branches and her stomach growling, she stretched and jogged around her shrub.
She felt good, surprisingly so, but she embraced it. Scrubbing her teeth in the stream with her finger after a long drink, she went as close as she dared to the wall of dirt and squatted to look for anyone coming. A sudden increase in the breeze sent the brown dust her way and she scrambled to her feet to back away. She saw it clearly when it went past the dead line, a faint haze touching the green, but the green stayed fine. How could that be?
She approached, half poised to run to the stream and dunk herself if she felt anything, and looked at the place where the field met the dead line. Tiny grains of brown dust were evident on the spiky green leaves and forming heads that looked like grain. Tentatively, she reached out and ran a finger along one leaf, catching the dust on the tip. Nothing happened. No stinging, no redness.
Wiping off the dust on the ground, she looked again at the dead line and how precise it was. It was like there was a border and inside it nothing could live. Beyond it, some things might live or they might die, but it was more like a no man’s land, much like the stripes she had laid out on the floor of her bedroom when Clara was younger and wouldn’t stay out of her things. Clara would stand with her toes covering the line but not crossing over just to irritate her. Was this such a line?
And over the line, whatever it was that was in the air that ate everything made of natural materials—and much that wasn’t—simply didn’t work. Lillian had no point of reference and was no IT technician or electronics worker, but she understood her job as a runner and a runner laid camera balls with transmitters to relay information. The transmitters worked out to a certain distance, a diameter, and then didn’t work anymore. Was that what the eaters did? Were they only active in a certain diameter of the silos?
Were they trapped by the Others in that hell by something as simple as a transmitter?
This was too important for her to wait to pass along so she ran for her ball and brought it to the line, painstakingly spelling out all that she surmised with her single finger coding. She wished with all her heart that someone was watching and understood her. The temptation to walk the border of the dead line and see for herself was great, but if anyone came for her they would come here, along the stream.
She left the ball, gathered a few big handfuls of dandelion greens and returned to sit next to it. She ate and watched the brown land.
Four
Time passed slowly and she dozed in her spot as the sun grew warmer. She stripped off her skin suit, careful to stay out of the view of the camera ball afterward, and felt the pleasant sting on her skin from the sun’s light. Eventually, even that got uncomfortable and her skin reddened so she draped the skin suit over her head and shoulders.
When the sun reached the top of the sky, Lillian realized they weren’t coming for her. Her run had taken about this long and she couldn’t imagine they would wait to send help. Unless they were waiting for another time of water falling from the sky to clear the dust as it had for her. Would the dust have filled in so quickly? It looked the same to her from here, but that was no indicator. The silo was many silo depths away.
Just as she was about to give up and rouse herself to search for something more substantial than dandelions to eat, she saw something in the stream far into the brown. It looked like a banner sticking up out of the water and it was moving against the flow of the water toward her. She stood and peered at it, trying to make out details. It looked like a piece of suit fabric, the shiny outer layer, sticking straight up out of the water.
She got as close as she dared to the dead line and the stream. Was this her rescue? It seemed to take forever for it to get close enough to see well, but when it did, she gave a whooping cheer and jumped up and down. It was a piece of suit fabric, attached somehow to a rod and under it was something that could move opposite the current. While she watched, the little flag rolled to the side and dipped under the water, paused a moment, then came erect again as the forward movement resumed. That was confusing.
Before the flag even passed the dead line, Lillian could see what moved beneath the water and ran into the stream. The flag was attached to the back of someone wearing a suit and helmet. It had to be Leo. She could see the person, but not who they were with the helmet facing downward. He pulled himself along the bottom, gripping rocks and muck with sure confident motions.
When he reached the safe zone where she stood, she sloshed toward the figure and put her hands below the clear part of the helmet so he could see her. The figure started and all of his limbs went in different directions before the gloved hands reached out and grabbed at her feet. She laughed and rolled him to the side, expecting to see Leo’s grin but she saw Greg instead.
She let go of him in surprise and he drifted awkwardly, tugging her feet almost out from under her. They both re-settled their grips and she tugged him toward the shore and out of the strong motion o
f the stream. The grin on her face was stretching and cracking her newly formed scabs but she didn’t care. She would have been happy to see Leo, but she didn’t want both of them out here for the sake of the family. She didn’t want Greg to be at risk either, but she couldn’t deny how happy she was to see him.
Behind him he dragged a long package. The drag of it against the current kept taking him back into the stream, so she put his hands on a sturdy rock and grabbed the package. It was a rescue bag that had been tightly vacuum sealed just like the big bags of dehydrated food her mother bought at the storage sales. It was flat, but lumpy and bumpy with whatever was sealed within. She slung it up on the shore before returning to Greg and dragging him up into a seated position.
His suit was in pretty good shape. An extra flap of suit material hanging from his chest had taken the brunt of it, scuffed and even torn, probably from the rocks and pebbles of the stream. But how did he get to the stream with that huge package?
She unsealed his helmet, carefully unwrapping the tape and setting it aside before opening his catches and lifting off the helmet just enough to keep his electronics attached. Those she disconnected, her concern for that communications gear paramount in her mind. When she had that undone, she lifted it away and leaned in to kiss him on the mouth. It was probably not the best kiss in the world since he was still gasping for air after his exertions, but it had to be done and they grinned at each other like they were drunk on corn hooch when she pulled away.
“You need to get out of the water so we don’t lose the electronics or your batteries. Everything of mine got wet. Hang on,” she instructed and climbed out of the water, very aware of what her underclothes looked like now that they were wet. She turned back, saw that Greg was looking away and knew he had noticed. There was nothing to be done about it so she shook her head and put the helmet down well away from the water.
She got him out of his suit, a clumsy process that set them both to laughing. He told her about his trip as she unwrapped the never-ending tape from around his suit closures. His conversation was calm, but his eyes darted about at the strange surroundings and gave away his nervousness. She let him talk, unwrapping and listening. The tape was interesting because it wasn’t the same tape she had used, at least on the outside layers.
“What’s this?” she asked, holding up a coil.
“Oh, yeah, that’s some stuff the plumber brought up. We saw what your tape looked like, so…”
She nodded at the information but changed the subject back to his trip. “So, you used the lake to get here, all the way to the stream. That, I get. But how did you get that all the way to the lake?” she asked, nodding toward the package on the shore. “There’s no way you could have run with that as far as the lake.”
“Gee, thanks,” he said, his tone sarcastic but also playful. She freed one of his hands from his glove and he stretched the fingers with a sigh. Then he ran his hand through her hair and chucked her chin gently. “You’ll never guess.”
She grinned and said, “No, you’re right. I’ll never guess so tell me.”
“You know that stupid cart with the camera?”
She nodded and grimaced.
“Well, one of the decon team designed it from a cart they use in welding to carry bottles. Long story short, they lifted one up and we stripped it down and attached me and the bag to it. I pulled it behind me until I got to the lake. It’s in the lake right now.”
She tried to imagine it and failed to get a picture so she shook her head and asked, “How did you get across the lake? I mean, it’s all black and disgusting.”
“No, that’s only the top. When you showed us those eddies something clicked. You know how they tell us we have to shower before we get into the training tank?” When she nodded, he went on, “If you don’t, then a film develops on top and just sort of floats on top, all disgusting like. You get what I’m saying?”
“Of course. Zara was always saying I needed to keep my greasy head out of the water because of it. I thought she was just being mean, but…”
He laughed. “Oh, she was being mean. But she was also telling the truth. We figured it must be the same out here. It isn’t completely true— that water is a brown mucky mess— but the black stuff looks like oil and that just sort of floats on top. We thought it was worth a shot and it turned out to be exactly what we thought. I just got in at the edge until I could get down enough to pull myself along the bottom and that’s how I made it. I couldn’t see well unless I stayed near the edge, so I did. It took forever, but I had extra air.”
“You must be so tired.”
“Nah, just like in the tank, you feel light. It’s just awkward. My arms do feel a bit like mush.” He stopped and looked at the helmet. “Let me get out of this and hook up the helmet. There are some people who want to talk to you.”
Five
Just hearing voices brought joy to her heart. Her family was first to talk with her and their excited talk became garbled with so many voices at once. When the first flush of excitement passed and her mother was truly reassured that it was Lillian and not some trick, she showed them around. Her face had frightened her mother, who pestered her to see a medic or find some calendula to make a salve. There was no sense in explaining it to her. She wasn’t taking in the situation and sounded fragile. Leo was overjoyed but she could tell that he wished it was him. They gave the family time to talk but eventually, it was time to get down to business and they left the area to the council and a host of others who had expertise that needed consideration.
Wearing the helmet to hear meant passing it back and forth between her and Greg, sweat building up with each pass until the dome stank and felt slippery in their fingers. Greg finally pulled loose the speaker and rested it on the mouthpiece so they could lay the helmet down like a bowl and both engage. Talking and listening went smoother after that. The two of them lay down on the soft ground, braced on their elbows with the camera ball and helmet in front of them. If only Lillian could communicate the way it felt to be where she was. She was sad it would soon be over. Greg needed to rest, but certainly by the morning they would need to reverse his trip and return to the silo.
“I’m almost sad to leave,” she sighed and plucked one of the soft green blades to nibble on. There was no response and it took her a moment to notice it. When she looked at Greg, he wore a sad and somehow reluctant expression.
“I thought you understood,” he said softly.
Dropping the chewed plant, she asked, “What?”
“We can’t go back.”
Not go back? What was he talking about? The silence from the helmet spoke volumes. She rolled back up onto her seat, her joy in the day gone in a flash. “Why can’t we go back?” She directed her question to the helmet and looked directly into the camera ball. If they weren’t taking her back, they should have to look at her face when they told her that.
There was the sound of a cleared throat then the Mayor’s deep voice came through. “Lillian, please try to understand. You’ve been exposed out there. This isn’t a simple breech where we know what to do, what it is and know what to look for while you’re in quarantine.” He paused and she felt him trying to find the right words. It was like a heavy sound just below the level of her hearing that she could feel. “Look around you, Lillian. Just turn around and look. We don’t know what…what will happen to you.”
Then she understood. They were going to wait and see if she sickened, if she died. Greg reached out and tried to hold her hand but she shook it away. “You’re just going to watch and see how long it takes me to die out here? And you sent Greg out to die with me? Is that it?”
A chorus of voices filled the speaker with discordant sound, all of them denials that rang false to Lillian’s ears. Greg sat up and sighed. He reached for her hand again and this time when she went to shake him off, he gripped it more firmly in both of his.
“Look at me, Lil. Just calm down for a second and look at me.”
She met his eyes
, his soft eyes as brown as any she had ever seen. Out here, in the sunlight, she could see they were speckled with gold and green flecks, something she might never have seen inside the silo. It was like a message from the sunlight to her. She closed her eyes and took a long deep breath.
“Greg, I don’t need to calm down. I understand and I’m okay with staying out here.” She shook her head, trying to put her feelings into words and ignore the demands coming from the speaker. “I suppose I just got surprised. I assumed you had a suit for me in that pack and that we would go back. Does this mean forever or what? I mean, do you have some idea of how long?”
“I’m here with you and I brought stuff so we’ll be okay for a while. Just listen to them.” He looked back at the camera ball, his face turning stony, clearly unhappy with the way things were going. “Go ahead.”
“We’re not waiting for you to die, Greg either for that matter. You have enough materials to get by for a good while, though we had to guess on things based on what you showed us. Yes, we are going to monitor your health for as long as the transmitter holds out. You can keep charging your own batteries and Leo is going to drop a new transmitter ball out there once we get one built that has more staying power.” There was another pause then his voice came back softer, filled with feeling. “Believe me when I say that we are hoping with all that we have that you’ll be well. We all wish we could be there. No matter the risk, we all wish it.”
His voice was so sincere that she couldn’t doubt he was telling the truth. The mayor was old and there was no way he would be able to make a walk out to where she was, let alone a run in the time he would have. They may have hope for the silo, but for some of the individuals, that hope was a thin one.
“Well, then, I suppose I’d best stay healthy. And, right now, what I’d like to do most is eat. I’m starving.”
