The Ark Plan

by Laura Martin

  “But don’t you worry about the dinosaurs?”

  “The garden is surrounded by fairly thick trees,” she explained. “So we don’t have to worry about any big-footed dinosaur stepping on our tomatoes. Now, the little ones,” she said, shaking her head in disapproval, “those will destroy a crop of green beans faster than you can say scat. We have a fence, but they still get in every now and then.”

  “I’d like to see it,” I said as I watched Emily scrub the dishes in a large pail of soapy water that she then dumped out a slot in the side of the house.

  “No running water?” I realized, amazed.

  “Too high,” Emily explained as she handed me another dish to dry. My eyes flicked to the door again, but when it opened moments later, it was only Shawn and Todd. Shawn was covered in what looked like thick black grease, and he was grinning broadly.

  “The lifter is fixed,” Todd told his mom, flopping onto the couch.

  Emily raised a skeptical eyebrow. “That was fast.”

  “Shawn did it,” Todd said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “You have a really neat system rigged up,” Shawn said. “It would be even more efficient if you used a bigger wheel mechanism; more torque that way.”

  Todd laughed at Emily’s confused look. “That’s exactly what I looked like when he started talking like that.” He turned to Shawn, a disbelieving grin still plastered on his face. “I can’t believe they taught you how to use a lifter in that fancy school of yours.”

  “They didn’t.” I smiled, feeling a surge of pride for my friend. “Shawn’s always been really good at that kind of stuff.”

  “Not always,” Shawn corrected. “There were about three years there where I could take anything apart, but I couldn’t put it back together again.”

  I laughed. “I had kind of forgotten about that. Remember when you got a month of extra work detail for taking apart the microphone in the assembly hall when we were eight?”

  “Assembly hall?” Emily asked.

  “Work detail? Microphone? What in the world are you two talking about?” Todd shook his head. “It’s like you’re from a different planet.”

  “I think we might just be speaking different languages,” Shawn said. “What you called a lifter, I call a simple luff tackle pulley and winch. Although I really think that a twofold purchase pulley with a larger wheelbase would work a lot better for you.”

  “Right,” Todd drawled, sounding unconvinced.

  “Hold it right there,” Emily said sharply as Shawn went to sit down on the couch next to Todd. Shawn jumped guiltily and stepped away from the couch. Emily chuckled. “Relax, dear. No one is going to bite you. I just didn’t want you sitting on my couch with those grease smears everywhere.” Shawn looked down at himself, seeming to notice the smears of black for the first time. Without ceremony, he shucked off his body armor, leaving him in the gray pants and shirt from the compound.

  “Well, that just won’t do,” Emily said, peering at Shawn’s shirt. Large patches of the grease from his body armor had soaked through, leaving oily-looking splotches on his shirt and pants. “Todd,” she said as she absentmindedly examined the fabric of Shawn’s sleeve, “please go grab a pair of pants and a tunic for Shawn. What is this made of?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.

  “Recycled nonbiodegradables,” Shawn said.

  “Strange,” she muttered. Todd handed Shawn a pair of the brown pants and a green tunic very similar to the one he was wearing.

  Shawn took the clothes, but then looked around the completely open room and frowned. “Um, where should I change?”

  Emily chuckled, and walked over to pull a long piece of fabric with rings on the top so it slid across the length of the tiny house. Shawn gratefully slipped behind the makeshift curtain. When he emerged moments later, I felt a pang of jealousy. Although the pants were too long and the shirt was a little too tight across the shoulders, he was wearing color. And not the muted colors of his body armor, either. This tunic was bright, vibrant, more alive somehow. I’d never worn color like that. Sliding my own body armor off, I shoved it in my pack. I avoided looking at my gray-on-gray clothes that had been washed and worn more times than I could count. Before I could pad over to sink down in one of the chairs, a brisk knock on the tree-house door made me jump.

  “Now who could that be at this hour?” Emily asked as she wiped her hands on a towel and walked toward the door.

  “Oh, hey, Mom,” Todd said, grimacing. “Jett’s coming over tonight to talk to these two.”

  “Thank you for the ample warning, dear boy,” Emily said, narrowing her eyes at her son as she opened the door. “Hello, Jett,” she said warmly, as though she’d been expecting him. “Do come in and have a seat. I’ll get you a cup of tea.”

  “No need, Emily.” Jett ducked his head under the low doorframe and walked in. “Sorry to impose on you like this.”

  “No trouble at all.” Emily waved a hand dismissively. “Take a seat. You must be exhausted. Did you and the boys bring down anything today?”

  Jett shook his head. “No, but we saw some decent tracks that we will be following tomorrow.”

  Jett perched in one of the wingback chairs, motioning for me to take a seat. I plopped down next to Shawn on the couch as Emily settled down into the other chair, pulling a basket onto her lap. The basket contained three large balls of colored thread, and she proceeded to use two smooth sticks to begin weaving them together.

  “Now then,” Jett said, sitting forward, his elbows braced on his knees as he looked at us with those penetrating blue eyes. “Why aren’t you two tucked safely underground in that compound of yours?”

  I frowned. I’d been planning on doing the questioning, not the other way around.

  “I’ve been asking myself that same question,” Shawn said, scratching at one of the numerous mosquito bites that peppered his arms.

  “Here, dear,” Emily said, standing to retrieve a small brown bottle. She handed it to Shawn. “Rub this on those bites. You really should avoid getting bitten. Those bugs carry diseases.”

  “I didn’t exactly volunteer as their dinner,” Shawn muttered, but he groaned in relief as he rubbed the thick green lotion onto the bites. “You’re my hero,” he said to Emily. “Got anything for Sky’s blistered nose?”

  “It’s blistering?” I asked, reaching up to touch my nose. My fingers encountered raw skin, and I winced.

  “I most certainly do,” Emily said. “Shame on me for not getting something for you earlier. I’ll blame it on the excitement of having guests.” She leaned out one of the windows and pawed through an overflowing window box. I heard a soft crack, and then she handed me a pointy bit of oozing leaf.

  “Thank you?” I said as I looked at the leaf. What did I do with it? Eat it? I sniffed at it experimentally.

  Todd laughed. “It’s part of an aloe vera plant. You rub the broken end on your burn. And I got to say, you have one of the most impressive sunburns I’ve ever seen.”

  “Your skin does almost match your hair.” Shawn smirked, in a much better mood now that his bug bites had been tended to.

  “I’ve only ever met one other person with red hair,” Emily said. “A dinosaur hunter who used to trade with us on a regular basis. I remember him mentioning that redheads burned easily.”

  “Dinosaur hunter?” I asked. That couldn’t be a real occupation. Could it?

  Jett cleared his throat, and we turned to look at him. “If we could get this discussion back on track now that bug bites and sunburns have been dealt with?” he asked. I nodded sheepishly, and tried not to be too self-conscious about the thick goo now coating my nose.

  “Please explain your presence in our woods. From Todd’s description, you aren’t very knowledgeable about survival among dinosaurs. What made you two leave the safety of the compound? From what I’ve heard, it’s against compound law.” I frowned. I hadn’t really thought through how much I should or shouldn’t tell these people.


  “It’s not exactly against the law,” Shawn said before I had a chance to formulate a reply. “Most people just aren’t stupid enough to go topside.”

  I glared at him.

  “Don’t give me that look, Sky Mundy,” Shawn warned. “I’m here too. That makes me just as stupid as you.”

  “Stupid was running across that meadow today,” Todd muttered as he walked over and settled himself with his back against the wall, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He pulled a small knife out of the holster on his arm, fished a rock out of his pocket, and began sharpening the knife.

  I ignored him and turned to Jett. “I left the compound because my dad told me to.”

  “If your dad is missing, how did he tell you to leave the compound?” Todd asked.

  “If you’d stop talking, she’s trying to tell you,” Jett growled.

  “Sorry,” Todd muttered.

  “Maybe it’s easier if I just start at the beginning,” I said, squirming under Jett’s icy gaze. I looked away to watch the crackling fire instead as I began. “My mom died when I was born, so it was always just me and my dad. He was a scientist at North Compound. He did most of his work in the genetics lab, cataloging and analyzing his data on a port screen.”

  “Are we supposed to know what a port screen is?” Todd asked.

  “It’s like a handheld computer,” I explained.

  “What’s a computer?” Todd asked. I sighed; this was going to be more difficult than I’d imagined.

  “Just let her talk,” Emily said. “She can explain what a portski is afterward.”

  “Port screen. Not portski,” Shawn chuckled, but I shot him a look, and he stopped.

  “So,” I went on. “One night, a few days after I turned seven, everything changed. I woke up in the middle of the night to our apartment being searched, and my dad was gone. They claimed he’d stolen valuable compound property, and they called him a traitor.” I cleared my throat. “There was an assembly where they explained how what he’d done could jeopardize the survival of everyone in the compound. Needless to say, I wasn’t very well liked after that.”

  “But you were seven!” Emily said indignantly.

  “Age doesn’t really matter in North Compound,” Shawn said. “Everyone, regardless of their age, is held accountable so everyone has a chance to survive. Most of the time, it’s a really good arrangement. It just wasn’t so good for Sky.”

  “Age isn’t important here either,” Jett said. “But we’d never blame a seven-year-old for her father’s crimes.”

  “My dad wasn’t a criminal.” I swallowed hard at the sudden tight feeling in my throat. “I think.” I wished I knew for certain.

  “How did he send you a message?” Jett prompted.

  “He left me a note, asking me to do something for him,” I said evasively.

  “He asked her to go to the middle of Lake Michigan,” Shawn blurted out, and I glared at him in exasperation.

  “But there’s nothing in the middle of Lake Michigan,” Todd said, turning to look at his mother and Jett for confirmation.

  “There has to be,” I said. Whether I liked it or not, Shawn had laid our cards out on the table. I unscrewed the back of my compass, took out the map, and handed it to Jett. I was just going to have to take a chance and trust these people. “My dad was one of the top scientists in North Compound. He studied at East Compound’s university. If he marked something on this map, it’s because it’s there. Are you sure you’ve never heard of anything?”

  Jett unfolded my map and studied it before shaking his head and handing it back to me. “We make occasional hunting trips to the lake, and I can testify that there is nothing there.”

  “Maybe there’s another village like this one there that you haven’t heard about?” I tried, fully aware that I was starting to sound a little pathetic.

  “How would you propose to build a village in the middle of a lake?” Jett asked, eyebrows raised in amusement. My cheeks burned in embarrassment, and Todd snorted. I glared at him. It wasn’t that funny.

  “Well,” I said, fighting to keep my temper in check as I took my map from Jett and tucked it back in my compass. “Maybe it’s not a village. But if my dad said there’s something in the middle of the lake, then there is something in the middle of the lake.”

  “I did mention Sky was incredibly stubborn. Right?” Shawn asked, a crooked grin on his face.

  “I prefer the word determined,” I snapped.

  “The only things in Lake Michigan are fish and swimming dinosaurs,” Jett said.

  “Plesiosaurs,” I said absentmindedly.

  “Is that like a portski?” Todd asked.

  Now it was my turn to laugh. “No. Jett said swimming dinosaurs. There really is no such thing. There are plesiosaurs and mosasaurs, though.” When Todd continued to look at me blankly, I added, “They are giant marine reptiles that were brought out of extinction at the same time as the dinosaurs.”

  “What’s the difference?” Todd asked.

  “No clue,” I admitted. “That’s just what we learned in school.” I hadn’t done nearly the research on them that I’d done on regular dinosaurs. For one thing, I’d never thought I’d be close enough to water to see an actual plesiosaur.

  “Research?” Jett asked.

  “Sky is an amateur dinosaur expert,” Shawn explained. “She’s got an entire journal filled with sketches and notes on the things.” If I could have kicked Shawn without anyone noticing, I would have. I wasn’t ready to show them everything. Not yet.

  “Really?” Todd said. “How did you research dinosaurs underground?”

  “Not well. But we had a few books on them,” I explained. “Mostly about the dinosaurs from millions of years ago, but we had one or two that were published during the years right after dinosaurs were brought out of extinction.”

  “Can I see the journal?” Jett asked.

  Not sure what else to do, I pulled my journal out and offered it to him. He opened it up gingerly, and I got the feeling that books were just as rare topside as they had been in the compound. Todd got up to look over Jett’s shoulder, and I squirmed self-consciously as they flipped through page after page. It felt odd to show people my journal after years of keeping it a secret.

  “I know it isn’t completely accurate,” I said, folding my hands firmly in my lap to keep them from snatching the journal back. “I think a lot of the dinosaurs have evolved and changed since those books were written.”

  When Jett was done, he handed the journal to Todd, who ran his finger along my notes, sounding out the words to himself.

  Jett turned his attention back to me. “I didn’t know that people in the compound were interested in dinosaurs. I thought you all lived underground and pretended they didn’t exist.”

  “That’s pretty accurate,” Shawn said. “The Noah promised that he is going to fix the dinosaur problem, so we can all move topside again.”

  Jett snorted. “That’s what he called it? The dinosaur problem?” I could tell from Shawn’s face that Jett had just offended him. I dug my elbow into his ribs before he could say something stupid. When he turned to look at me, I shook my head. Now was not the time or place for him to start talking about how great the Noah was. Jett and the rest of the Oaks clearly weren’t fans of our leader, and I didn’t want them to go back on their offer to let us spend the night.

  “This isn’t bad, but some of your facts aren’t quite right,” Todd said, and I looked over at him, grateful for the change in topic. He was holding up the picture I’d drawn of the troödon, the dinosaurs he’d called Nightmares. “These only come out at night,” he said. “See how big their eyes are? It’s so they can see in the dark.” He flipped to the next page. “This one you call a Tarchia gigantea?” he said. “The forehead shape is a little off. And by the way, what kind of name is Tarchia gigantea? We just call them Boneheads.”

  “I’d love for you to tell me what else I got wrong. I’ve never actually seen most of those.
I was just trying to learn everything I could.” I frowned. “Although it turns out I should have been researching sunburns and bug bites.”

  “And shoes,” Shawn groaned, stretching his legs out in front of him so we could see the impressive display of blisters that had bloomed across his feet. “Man, do I wish you’d figured out better shoes.”

  “Why did you do this to the back half?” Todd interrupted, holding up the journal to display the hole.

  “My dad did that.” I motioned to my compass. “He hid this inside it.”

  “What is it?” Todd asked, leaning over to get a closer look.

  “It’s a compass,” Jett said, before I had a chance to respond. “It tells you which way north is.”

  “Why wouldn’t you just use the sun?” Todd asked.

  Shawn looked up from inspecting his feet. “You can tell direction that way?”

  Todd rolled his eyes. “Which just proves Jett’s point that although this is nice,” he said, gesturing to my journal, “it isn’t going to help you survive up here.”

  “Gee, that sounds familiar,” Shawn said. “Who told you topside survival was impossible again?” He put his hand on his chin, pretending to think. “I know somebody must have mentioned it. I think it was someone incredibly good-looking and smart.”

  “It’s not impossible,” Emily corrected. “It’s just difficult.”

  “I think you should go back to your compound,” Jett said abruptly, standing up from the couch. “When you do, make no mention of the Oaks. It is very important that the Noah not know we exist.”

  “Going back isn’t an option,” I explained. “But even if I could go back, I wouldn’t.”

  “Then stay here,” Todd jumped in. “There are plenty of people who would take you in if you didn’t want to go back to that underground mole hole.” He glanced at Jett and his face flushed red. “I mean,” he stuttered, “if Jett says that’s okay.”

  “I don’t believe you are the Noah’s spies,” Jett said after a painful pause, and I squirmed again. There was something about the way he looked at us, like he could read our minds, that made me nervous. “If you would like to stay here in the Oaks, you are welcome. You will have to work hard. This life is not an easy one.”