by Anna Carey
Page 15
“I made choices,” he said, his face suddenly flushed. He glanced back at the building, looking at the soldiers stationed at the metal scopes. Then he resumed, his voice much lower than before. “You’ve seen only a fraction of this world, and yet you stand in judgment. I was the one who made the difficult decisions. ” He pressed his finger to his chest. “You don’t understand, Genevieve. The Strays who live in the wild, even some people inside these walls, they speak about what I haven’t done. What I could’ve done, how dare I choose this or that for the people of The New America. But this world is not the same anymore. Riots broke out everywhere. The Northwest was threatened with floods. Hundreds of acres in the South went up in flames. Those who did survive the plague died when the fires ripped through. They say they wanted choices—but there were no choices. I did what I had to do so people could survive. ”
He guided me to the edge of the platform, the wind whipping through our hair. “We discovered we could use the Hoover Dam and Lake Mead in the restoration. We had to protect ourselves from other recovering countries that might see us as vulnerable. We made the decision to rebuild here, using power from the dam. ” He pointed beyond the main strip. “A hospital was restored within the first two years. A school, three office buildings, and enough housing for a hundred thousand people. The hotels were converted into apartments. The golf courses were turned into vegetable gardens, three factory farms went up the following year. People no longer have to worry about animal attacks or gang raids. If anyone wants to attack the City, they’ll have to trek through the desert for days, then get past the wall. And every day, improvements are being made. Charles Harris, our Head of Development, has been restoring restaurants and shops and museums, bringing all the life back to this country. ”
I stepped away from him. It didn’t matter how much good he’d done or how many buildings had risen from the dust. His men were the same men who’d hunted me.
“We were able to restore an oil well and refinery. ” He followed me, leaning down to look into my face. “Do you have any idea what that means?”
“And who works at these refineries?” I shot back, thinking of Caleb and all the boys in the dugout. “Who did the construction on those hotels? You’ve been using slaves. ”
The King shook his head. “They’ve been given housing and food in exchange for their work. Do you think anyone would’ve taken those children into their homes? People could barely feed their own families. We’ve given them a purpose, a place in history. There’s no progress without sacrifice. ”
“Why do you get to decide who to sacrifice? No one gave my friends a choice. ”
He leaned in so close I could see the flecks of blue inside his gray irises. “The race is on now. Nearly every country in the world was affected by the plague, and they’re all trying to rebuild and recover as quickly as possible. Everyone’s wondering who will be the next superpower. ” He kept staring at me, refusing to look away. “I decide because this country’s future—because our lives—depend on it. ”
“There had to have been another way,” I tried. “You forced everyone—”
“People weren’t having children after the plague,” he said, a low laugh escaping his lips. “I could’ve spoken about the population decline, statistics, appealed to their reason, offered incentives. No one wanted to raise a child in this world. People were just trying to survive, just trying to take care of their own. Yes, that’s changing now, little by little. Couples are having children again. But this country couldn’t afford to wait. We needed new housing, a capital, a thriving population, and we needed it immediately. ”
I stared at the sun-bleached buildings before me, their facades faded to creamy pastels—blues, greens, and pinks. It was easy to see what had been restored on the main strip: The colors were brighter, the glass gleaming in the midday light. The paved roads were cleared of debris, weeds, and sand. Then there was the stretch of land out by the wall, so different from everywhere else. Desolate buildings were half covered in sand, their roofs caved in. Signs had fallen over. Rotted palm trees littered the street. In the farmlands, cows, shifting ever so slightly in their tight-packed pens, made the ground look like a black, undulating mass. Rusted shells of cars were lined up in an empty parking lot. From high above, the improvements were clear—buildings were either restored, or sand-battered and broken. The King had either saved them, or they’d been left to rot.
“I can’t forgive you for what you’ve done. My friends are still prisoners. Your soldiers killed good people when they hunted me; they didn’t even flinch when they shot them. ” I thought of Marjorie and Otis, who had given us shelter along the Trail, hiding us in their cellar before they were killed.
The King turned back to the tower. “In the wild, the soldiers’ first priority is to protect themselves. I’m not justifying it—I won’t. But they’ve learned from experience that encounters with Strays can be deadly. ” He let out a deep breath and pulled at the collar of his shirt. “I don’t expect you to understand, Genevieve. But I found you because you’re my family. I want to know you. I want this City to recognize you as my daughter. ”
Family. I turned the word over in my mind. Isn’t that what I’d always wanted, too? Pip and I had lain awake at night, talking about what it would be like to be sisters, growing up in the world before the plague, in some normal house on some normal street. She’d remembered a brother, two years older, who had carried her on his back through the woods. I’d wished for that, hoped and wanted it in those last days, alone with my mother in that house. I’d craved someone there beside me, to sit with me by her door, listening to the quiet rustling of her sheets, someone to help me endure the sound of those horrible, hacking coughs. But now that I had family I didn’t want it anymore—not like this. Not the King. “I don’t know if I can do that,” I said.
He rested a hand on my shoulder. He was so close I could see the thin dusting of sand on his suit. “We’ve planned a parade for tomorrow,” he said finally. “It’s time the people know you’re here, time that you take your place as Princess of The New America. Will you consider joining us?”
“It doesn’t sound like I have a choice,” I said. He didn’t answer. My stomach quaked. Arden was in some cold room and I was here, high above the City, the King’s daughter, discussing a parade. “You have to release my friends,” I said. “Arden, Pip, and Ruby are still in that School. You have to call off the search for Caleb. I was the one—”
“We can’t discuss this anymore,” the King said, his voice low. He turned back to the building, where a soldier was staring through the metal scope at something beyond us. “Two soldiers are dead. Someone needs to be held responsible. ” He narrowed his eyes at me, as if to say, And it won’t be you.
“At least tell me you’ll release my friends. Promise me that. ”
Slowly, his expression softened. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder. We stood there looking out at the City below. I didn’t pull away. Instead, I let him believe that we were one, the same, united side by side. “I understand where you’re coming from. Let’s enjoy the parade tomorrow, give ourselves some time. I promise I’ll consider it. ”
