Ashes, Ashes aa-1

by Jo Treggiari

  “And what are you doing here?”

  “I work here,” Mrs. Reynolds said.

  “For her?”

  “It’s complicated. Dr. Lessing is… she… she saved my life. Everyone here owes her a debt of some kind. The work she’s doing is important.”

  “So are you here to convince me to just give up everything?” To her horror, Lucy found that she was crying. Seeing the nurse was a jarring reminder of her life before.

  “No, I’m not. You’ll have to trust me.”

  “Crap,” Lucy mumbled, swiping her streaming nose against her sleeve. She looked up at Aidan. His face was shocked. She gave herself a mental shake and raised the knife.

  “You all right?” he asked.

  “Yeah.” Lucy transferred her attention back to the nurse. “If that’s true and you want to help us, get us out of here now.”

  Without a moment’s hesitation, the nurse said, “Okay.”

  They crept down the stairs, their boots slapping against the hard marble. Mrs. Reynolds led them quickly, sure-footed in the gloom. Her sneakers were silent. Lucy glanced over the railing. The hallway far below was in complete darkness. It looked like a bottomless hole.

  One floor down, then two. She could barely discern the outlines of doors leading to unknown rooms. No light gleamed from the cracks under the doors. She wondered if the other Sweepers were sleeping. The air conditioner had shut itself off again, and the generator was quiet. All was silent but for the puff of their breathing and the faint squeaks of rubber soles.

  Slowly, Lucy’s eyes adjusted to the dark. The steep stairs became more distinct. There were different grades of black, shades of gray. She quickened her pace, holding on to the railing in case she stumbled. Aidan and Sammy were right behind her.

  Lucy could see the front door now. It was massive, steel, with a gleaming column of locks and bolts on one side and a heavy chain looped across it. They should have been suspicious when they’d come and found the place open, should have known it was a trick. People like this didn’t leave their doors unlocked.

  “Break to the right once you’re outside,” Mrs. Reynolds said in a low voice. “The floodlights only illuminate the immediate area around the front entrance. If you stick to the edges, you’ll be practically invisible.”

  Lucy hesitated. She didn’t know what to say.

  “Just go. Once you’re through the door, run as fast as you can.”

  Lucy hurried toward the door. Her hand reached up to pull the chain free and to click back the first of the deadbolts. The nurse, her shoulder pressed up against Lucy’s, tapped a sequence of numbers into a keypad. A red light turned to green. Lucy tried not to stare at the ravaged cheek so closely. She fumbled with the heavy bolt. It was stiff and she needed both hands to pull it back. But what to do with her knife? She didn’t dare put it down.

  She felt the rush of cold air against her back first. An inner door had opened somewhere. Then the scuffle of heavy steps came out of the darkness behind them. She whirled around. Prepared for the suddenness of blinding lights, she pressed her free hand to her forehead and shielded her eyes. Even so, when the switches were thrown, the glare from the fluorescent tubes was dazzling. Lucy blinked furiously to sharpen her vision. Sammy had fallen back, his hood pulled over his black mask. Aidan braced himself. His eyes cut left and right looking for an escape route, but they were trapped.

  At the corner of her field of vision, Lucy saw Mrs. Reynolds draw away from them. So much for her help, Lucy thought. We should have threatened her. Taken her hostage. She pressed up against the door, feeling the heavy bolts against her spine, searching for some way out. The foyer split into two corridors, which threaded around behind the steps. She didn’t know if they linked up or meandered in opposite directions. She knew the facility was huge, complex.

  “Why are you acting like this?” Dr. Lessing said in her calm voice. She rested her hand against the steel banister. Her hair was no longer contained in a neat bun. She had it tucked behind her ears. Her lab coat was unbuttoned as if she had just thrown it on, and she wore blue slippers on her feet.

  “Guests don’t sneak out like furtive thieves in the night,” she continued. “I’m disappointed in you, Lucy and Aidan. I thought we were being honest with one another.” The cool gray-painted stone walls picked up her words and threw them back again. The echoes were disorientating. Her gaze lingered on Sammy’s form, and a frown appeared momentarily on her forehead. His eyes glittered through the sockets of his mask.

  “Who is that?”

  “My brother,” said Aidan. “He thought he’d come and check up on us.”

  “At one o’clock in the morning?”

  “He couldn’t wait.”

  “And is the costume in keeping with the rest of the theatrics you all seem partial to?”

  Sammy pulled his hood lower. Aidan said nothing.

  Dr. Lessing broke out into a peal of laughter. It rang loudly. She was bent over double by the force of it. At first the laughter invited them to join in, but it went on for too long, and when she raised her head again, she looked exhausted. Lucy felt a thrill of fear.

  Dr. Lessing caught her breath, smoothed her hair down, and buttoned her coat. She uttered a short order, and the figures behind her stepped forward.

  “Who are they? Your secret police?” Sammy asked.

  “They’re here to keep us all safe,” she said.

  She was flanked by eight Sweepers. All helmeted. All armed.

  “Do they sleep in that getup?” Sammy asked. The doctor ignored him.

  Lucy recognized Simmons by his bulk and his red hair. Doesn’t he know his boss is crazy? Lucy raised her knife, feeling foolish as she did so. A broken knife against a bolt of electricity. She wondered how it would feel. A burning sensation, or maybe just a jolt to the heart that stopped it dead? Her palms were instantly slick with sweat. Aidan tried to push her behind him, but she resisted. “You’re still weak,” she whispered. “I heard you behind me tripping all over your feet.”

  “Your knife is wrecked,” he whispered back.

  “It’s still sharp.”

  Dr. Lessing’s face softened. Her voice was pitched low. “Aidan, you shouldn’t be out of bed. Simmons told me at best you’d torn a ligament in your shoulder. There’s considerable tissue damage.” She turned toward Lucy with her hands out. “And Lucy, you were so exhausted, you fell asleep in my office between one sentence and the next.”

  “You drugged us!” Lucy said. “Enough of these lies!”

  Dr. Lessing laughed. “Instant coffee, a little stale, but the best that I could offer you. Hardly a drug.”

  “You know what you did,” Lucy spat. “Who are you pretending for? Them? They just do what you tell them, right?” She waved her arm at the Sweepers.

  Lines of concern etched themselves onto the woman’s face.

  “You’re confused. You must have had a nightmare of some kind.” She beckoned to Lucy. “Come, back to your bed, and we’ll talk about it in the morning.”

  Lucy took a shaking step forward. She felt Aidan’s hand on her shoulder, and then it fell away. She stared at the doctor and saw nothing in her eyes but compassion and a wrinkle of worry. It appeared genuine enough. She hesitated.

  The scene in front of her seemed too absurd to be real: the Sweepers, silent, invisible faces behind the reflective Plexiglas helmets, grasping their bristling black boxes; the doctor in her lab coat; three kids armed with an assortment of useless weapons. Even Sammy’s curved blade was better suited for slicing off a handful of basil. Lucy’s head felt scrambled. She wondered how long it would be before whatever sedatives Dr. Lessing had given them wore off completely. What was real? That was the question that was nagging at her. Dr. Lessing had an explanation for everything. How much of what Lucy was feeling was paranoia seeded in the early days of the plague? The Sweepers, the S’ans. She glanced at Sammy. She’d been totally wrong about the S’ans. What else was she wrong about? Was it true that these people were
just trying to make everything better? Safer?

  Dr. Lessing moved a step closer, Simmons at her heels, but she gestured him back. The Sweepers kept their positions. A slight smile curved her mouth.

  “You’re so tired, Lucy. It’s been so hard for so long,” she said. “But it doesn’t have to be this grim struggle for survival, you know. We just want to look after you. And your friends.” Her smile broadened. She waited, her eyes intent on Lucy’s face.

  Lucy shifted from one foot to the other. Her arms were sore. The hilt of her knife was slippery in her fingers. How long could they face off like this? Should they rush the Sweepers? She didn’t think any of them was up to a fight.

  “I can offer each of you a bath, a bed, and a good hot breakfast in the morning.”

  Lucy felt her resolve weaken. Her hands dropped a bit. Dr. Lessing came another foot closer. Close enough that Lucy could see a smear of face cream caught in the fold of skin by her nostril. It reminded Lucy of her mother. She glanced at Sammy, whose face was still masked. Then at Aidan. His expression only mirrored the confusion she felt.

  She tried to apply the skills she’d learned living in the Wilds. The ability to judge possible danger, sense predators, and make a quick decision based on a gut feeling. Now, her instincts felt dull. All she could think about was how good a hot bath would feel and the genuine kindness in Dr. Lessing’s eyes. And what about Aidan? Aidan was obviously in pain. They could look after him properly here. It was what the staff had been trained for.

  “We can leave whenever we want? And no more medical tests without our consent?”

  “Of course.”

  She lowered her knife. Dr. Lessing clapped her hands together.

  “Yes?” she said. “I’m so glad.”

  “Wait a minute,” Aidan said. He reached out for Lucy’s arm. He pulled her in close, still holding the hammer ready in case of attack. “Are you sure?” he said. “Just like that?”

  She couldn’t help but notice how he winced as his arm was jarred. His elbow was pressed up against his ribs as if they might shake loose.

  “I don’t know. I can’t tell anymore. It feels like she’s telling the truth.”

  He nodded.

  “You talked to her longer than anyone. And your gut reactions are usually pretty right on.”

  “Really?” She felt herself blushing.

  He stroked her arm. “Well, maybe not always,” he murmured. “Sometimes it takes you a while to get a clue.”

  Sammy took a couple of steps back toward them. They stood shoulder to shoulder now. His back was rigid, his knuckles so tight around the hilt of his billhook that the burned skin was white.

  “You’re not buying this, are you?” he asked. “She reminds me of a teacher I once had. Seemed nice and fair and ready to make a deal, but then as soon as you let down your guard, you’d be hauled into the principal’s office.”

  “That was in second grade,” Aidan said.

  “Yeah, but she’s the same type. If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck… You’re forgetting Leo. And, Lucy, she took your blood. And these guys… they’re not exactly acting friendly, are they?”

  He spoke without shifting his glance from the Sweepers. Lucy looked up and noticed that although they still stood in relaxed formation across the foyer, their Tasers were raised and switched on. Dr. Lessing might pretend that everything was safe and civilized, but she still relied on force.

  “You’re right.”

  Sammy pushed his way in front of them.

  “What about Leo?” he called out. “He was sick when he got out of here. You made him that way. He had no reason to lie to us.”

  Something flickered across Dr. Lessing’s face. The smile on her mouth smoothed away as if it had never been there. Lucy sensed a shift in energy. The Sweepers seemed to stand taller, the blue flames of their weapons leapt and crackled. The hairs on the back of Lucy’s neck stood up.

  She searched out Mrs. Reynolds. The nurse had made her way around to stand a few feet away from Dr. Lessing. She stared straight ahead, expressionless. Lucy’s gaze was drawn to her fingers twisting together. Run, she’d said.

  The Sweepers inched forward. There was nowhere to go. The main entrance, still locked, was at their backs. The side door they’d come in through was somewhere to the left. Lucy was sure that was locked now, too. The stairs in front of them were blocked by the line of Sweepers. She could see a dark hallway to the left, a few closed doors. She wondered where they led.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dr. Lessing make a gesture.

  One of the Sweepers, standing off to the side, suddenly lunged at Lucy. She ducked barely in time to avoid the Taser. She heard the pop and crackle as it swished past her face. The Sweeper’s arm caught her across the skull and sent her reeling backward. Her ear felt instantly swollen and hot. “Not the Tasers,” Dr. Lessing shouted. The Sweeper hesitated, clearly confused, and Aidan aimed a vicious kick at the man’s knee. His legs buckled and he fell. And then the others joined in. Lucy heard the dull thud of blows exchanged. She tasted blood at the back of her throat, felt a bruise rising along her jawbone. It was a messy fight. No one really seemed to know what they were doing. And they were packed too close to land a punch with any force. She dug in to a chest with her elbow, kicked out with her heavy boots. Someone’s shoulder slammed against her. Lucy fell back. Shaking her head to clear it, she brought her knife up and cleared a little space in front of her. She wondered how long before they realized the blade was broken and charged in again. Beside her, Aidan swung his hammer and connected with a helmet, cracking the heavy plastic. Sammy, his heavy robes swirling around him, wielded his billhook in a broad arc. Around the edge of his mask, she could see the wild grin spread across his face. Through the mouth hole, his teeth were bared like a wolf. He was clearly enjoying himself.

  The doctor’s choked voice haulted the Sweepers in their tracks. She clawed at something around her throat. “Stop!” she gasped.

  Then the Sweepers were falling back. And Lucy, Aidan, and Sammy found themselves in the middle of the floor, with empty space around them. They circled, keeping their tight huddle, wary.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  LIGHTS OUT

  Del constricted her arm around the woman’s throat and stepped out from behind her. Two small kids, wrapped in blankets, shivered at the base of the stairs. Their faces were pinched and gray, like they’d been hungry for a long time. Lucy remembered all the other children who’d disappeared from the shelter, taken away in the white vans. Who knew what had happened to them and the older scavengers who’d been taken against their will? They’d probably all died here. Somehow she’d forgotten those truths.

  Del transferred her grip to Dr. Lessing’s arm and held it twisted behind her back. She stepped forward and the Sweepers fell back. Simmons raised his hand and they froze in formation. They were now clustered before the front door. Lucy narrowed her eyes. She was pretty sure there were even fewer of them than before. Had some fled during the night?

  “We’re all leaving,” Del said.

  “Delfina. You’re safe here,” Dr. Lessing pleaded. Her voice was strained and high. “If you go back out into the world, you’ll be in danger. You can’t do that to the children.”

  Del’s arm jerked and tightened. Dr. Lessing’s eyes bulged. “Just shut up,” Del screamed. “Stop pretending! Don’t act like you know me.”

  “But you understand the work we’re doing here.”

  “You lied to me. You used me to bring my friends here. You murdered Leo.” The tears were pouring down her face. Dr. Lessing writhed, but Del’s grip was too strong.

  “I’m a doctor,” she said, “and a scientist.” She looked at Lucy with a pleading expression. “It’s your duty. You’ve been given this gift.”

  “You were going to bleed me until I died!” Lucy said. Finally her mind felt crystal clear. “I read your report.” She stepped forward and lowered her knife. “Did you infect Leo with the plague?”
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  Dr. Lessing’s face contorted with rage. She ripped at Del’s hands with her nails, but Del held on with a fierce expression. The doctor whipped her head backward suddenly. Her skull caught Del across the mouth, mashing her lips against her teeth. Del fell backward, her arms pinwheeling as she tried to regain her balance. She dropped to her knees, and blood gushed from her mouth.

  The children wailed and shrank against the banister.

  Dr. Lessing staggered to her feet. Her lab coat was speckled with Del’s blood.

  Simmons looked from the doctor to Del. He seemed unsure of how to act. Behind him, the Sweepers shifted uneasily.

  “Del!” Sammy shouted. He ran toward her. No one stopped him. He reached her, put his arm around her shoulders, and helped her up.

  Uttering a wild scream, Dr. Lessing sprang at him. Her fingers were hooked like claws, her hair streamed over her shoulders. She looked nothing like the calm, composed person who had greeted them hours earlier. Her forward motion threw Sammy off balance and Del was knocked backward. Sammy’s boots skidded on the polished floor. His legs gave way and he hit the ground hard. The billhook dropped from his hand and skittered across the floor out of reach. He rolled away, arms wrapped around his stomach.

  Del was tearing at her sweatshirt pouch. She pulled her slingshot free, fitted a smooth pebble into the socket, and extended her arm. She tracked Dr. Lessing as the woman attacked Sammy again with a flurry of blows. Lucy could see the frown of concentration on her face. But Dr. Lessing and Sammy were struggling together, a jumble of arms and legs, and Del couldn’t risk hitting Sammy instead.

  The doctor’s breath came in loud gasps. Sammy tried to protect himself, but Dr. Lessing struck out wildly with the length of her forearm. The savage blow rocked his head to the side. The mask was ripped loose and skidded across the floor. Lucy could hear the murmurs as the Sweepers caught sight of his charred face and flaming eyes, the trickle of blood seeping from a wound on his forehead.