Wasteland (Wasteland - Trilogy)

by Kim, Susan

  Around the wall, close to the ceiling, were the remnants of a long strip of paper. Caleb could barely read, but he realized with a shock that the torn banner was printed with the letters of the alphabet.

  This was a room for little children.

  Children like Kai. Soft, sweet Kai, with his mother’s serious eyes and his sudden smile.

  His son.

  The images seemed to reproach him, a silent reminder not to forget why he was there. Caleb squeezed his eyes shut. Then he opened them again.

  Someone was in the hall.

  Caleb seized his backpack, hanging over a chair. He took out a sap, a small, heavily weighted leather pouch, which he hid in his hand.

  But he realized he would not need it.

  A girl in a red hooded sweatshirt stood in the doorway.

  It was the girl he had first seen at the ball court, the angry one who had tried to slash his tires. The pretty one, he thought now, pretty if you looked at her the right way.

  “Hey,” she said. She was appalled to find she was blushing and she tried to cover it by scowling. “I’m Esther.”

  “I’m Caleb,” he said. “What can I do for you?”

  Esther couldn’t meet his eyes, and so she plowed ahead, staring at the floor.

  “I came to . . . I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

  “Uh-huh,” he said. “What for?”

  “For . . .” she started, then trailed off. Apologizing didn’t come easy to her and this was harder than she thought. “Because I messed up your tire.”

  Caleb considered her words.

  “You didn’t really mess it up,” he said.

  A smile flickered across her face and at last she raised her eyes. “I would have, if I had more time.”

  Now it was Caleb’s turn to smile. “I bet,” he said.

  Esther cleared her throat. “And . . . I’m sorry about your family.”

  Caleb’s face grew serious and he nodded.

  That was all Esther came to say. It felt right to apologize for what she did and to express her sympathy. After that, there was no real reason to stay; yet for some reason, she couldn’t break away. She lingered for a moment, hoping Caleb would speak, but he was as silent as she was. So she started to go.

  “Hey?” he said.

  Esther turned back.

  Caleb had his hands in his pockets and averted his gaze; she was surprised to see that he was so ill at ease.

  “You think it’s safe around here?” he finally asked. He indicated his black bicycle, leaning against a wall. “I’d like to keep that outside, case I need to get somewhere in a hurry. Think that’d be okay?”

  “Sure,” Esther said. “If you want, we could put it out back. That way, nobody would see it from the street.”

  Together, they headed farther into the school, Caleb pushing his bicycle next to him and Esther navigating. It was not just one building but a series of them and she had never been inside before. Still, her sense of direction was good, and she felt they were heading the right way.

  As they walked side by side, the two talked. Esther was especially shy at first. The only person she really spoke to was Skar, and they had been friends for many years. She found it was easier when they weren’t looking at each other. Mostly, they took turns asking questions, listening as the other spoke: about growing up, their homes and family, and the people they knew.

  Soon Esther was so caught up in the conversation, she stopped paying attention to where they were and began choosing turns and stairways without thinking. When they reached the end of a large hallway, she frowned. She spun around, confused, as she tried to get her bearings.

  “What’s wrong?” Caleb asked.

  Esther didn’t answer at first. “I don’t know how we got here,” she said. She pointed down the echoing corridor, which seemed as long and broad as a highway. “I think we’re supposed to be down at that end.”

  Caleb smiled. “That’s easy,” he said. He mounted his bicycle in one fluid movement. “Hop on.”

  When she realized what he was proposing, Esther hesitated. Then she met his eyes and made up her mind.

  His back wheels didn’t have the standing pegs the variants used, so Esther perched on the seat. She held onto Caleb, who pedaled standing up. When they reached the far end of the hall, Esther saw she had been right; there was a door that led to a courtyard in back. Caleb slowed, then stopped. He took her hand and helped her off the bike.

  “Thanks,” she said. “That was fun.” She held the door open for Caleb, and he wheeled his bicycle through and rested it against the brick wall. Esther realized it was a word she had only ever used with Skar: fun.

  As the two returned to the classroom, Caleb seemed thoughtful.

  “Who’s Levi?” he said. “And what’s the Source? I’ve heard people talk about them, but not so as I could understand.”

  Esther couldn’t imagine anyone not knowing, but she explained as best she could. Caleb listened, squinting as he took it in.

  “They got more than food and water in there?” he asked, after she was done.

  “What?”

  “At the Source. He’s got all kinds of stuff, right?”

  Esther shrugged. “I guess.”

  “Do they ever trade with anyone else?”

  “Like who?”

  “Mutants. Because I’m looking for something. Something you start fires with.”

  Esther was puzzled. Then she remembered his recent tragedy. The mysterious fire. The death of his partner and the kidnapping of his son.

  And before she was aware what she was doing, Esther found herself opening up even more to Caleb. She told him what she’d found when she visited the variants’ camp—that Levi was supplying them with goods. What they were doing in exchange for this payment, she had no clue. And she realized too late that she didn’t know what Caleb would do with this information.

  Caleb listened, gazing downward without speaking. Then he looked up.

  “How do you get in the Source?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” Esther said. “I never been inside.”

  “You think I could?”

  “Depends,” she replied. “Why are you asking me?”

  “Because. You know everything else.”

  Esther glanced up at him. She wasn’t sure if he was teasing or if he valued her opinion. Maybe both, she thought. Because he was smiling.

  “I can’t answer that,” she said. “But I think you’ll end up doing what you want, anyway.”

  “Probably so,” he said. Just then, Caleb’s attention was directed to the window. He walked over and peered out. Breathing onto the filthy glass, he rubbed a circle with his elbow. Although the rain had stopped, a form covered in shiny black clothing—a hooded slicker and galoshes—was striding across the street. Whoever it was headed toward the school.

  “That’s one of Levi’s boys,” Esther said, from behind him.

  “How do you know?” he said.

  “No one else has gear like that.”

  Caleb thought about it. “Better hide someplace.”

  “Why?”

  Caleb looked at her. “You know how to fight?”

  “Oh,” she said. “Well, I—”

  “Wait there.”

  There was a closet in the back of the room. Esther opened the door and disappeared inside.

  The stranger had already entered the room. It was a boy, probably in his mid-teens. His ensemble gave him a bizarre, animal-like quality, as if he was something not completely human.

  “Levi wants to see you,” he said.

  “I’m Caleb. What’s your name?”

  The boy in black didn’t answer; he cocked his head, confused.

  “You got to come to the Source,” he said.

  “Why?” Caleb asked.

  The visitor paused again. It was as if he had never been asked anything like this before. He seemed to be blinking stupidly behind his hood.

  “Come tonight, before the sun goes down,” he said
.

  “What if it rains again?”

  But the boy had turned and, seemingly unnerved, was tramping out.

  Watching him go, Caleb shook his head, amused. “Well,” he said. “Looks like I’m going to the Source, after all.”

  “I guess so.” Esther emerged from her hiding place. She was smiling, too. Then her expression grew serious. “But if you go, be careful.”

  The emotion in her voice surprised both of them. Before he could respond, she spoke again. “Maybe I’ll see you around. I’m usually in the fields, near the tracks.”

  Then Esther turned and ran from the room and down the hall. In no time, she was at the front door of the building.

  But before she could leave, she heard Caleb calling after her:

  “See you, Esther.”

  Rather than bring a sense of coolness, all the rain had done was make the late afternoon heat feel more oppressive. The air was now thick and muggy and even more difficult to breathe.

  Caleb shifted on his feet. He had been waiting for over an hour outside the Source, standing on the steaming asphalt of the parking lot. There was not much to look at. Weeds and tall grass grew freely in the cracked surface. Beneath his feet and stretching as far as the eye could see were fading parallel lines, painted in white. A few featured remnants of a crude drawing: a stick figure seated on a half-circle.

  Caleb pushed back his hat and raised his sunglasses to wipe his face; he was perspiring freely. He was more than aware that he was being made to wait on purpose; it was an obvious ploy, Levi’s way of establishing the balance of power between them before the two had even met. Yet it didn’t succeed in making Caleb feel intimidated. It only made him impatient.

  He was aware that there were laborers working nearby; he had passed some sort of worksite on his way in. From where he stood, he could hear the faint sound of picks and shovels hitting the ground. It was a rhythmic sound, hypnotic in this heat, and he closed his eyes, momentarily lulled.

  Something snapped him out of his trance.

  He blinked, not certain if he was seeing things. There seemed to be an apparition emerging from the Source. And it was heading his way.

  From where he stood, it first appeared to be a single creature, some large and misshapen organism floating toward him in the hot, shimmering air like a mirage.

  As it approached, it was easier to see that it was a group of people. One walked in front. Another, hooded like the messenger from before, walked by his side and held out a large black umbrella, to shield him from the sun. Two more hooded figures, presumably guards, flanked them.

  The leader wore no headgear, revealing that he was pale, luminously so, almost like the underbelly of a frog. His pallor was accentuated by a shock of dark hair that fell over his forehead and his black clothing.

  To Caleb, it was clear what this was meant to convey. In a world where everyone had to be swathed in white against a deadly sun, such a wardrobe was a show of strength, a taunt to the elements, a way of being above and better than the heat.

  Caleb assumed this must be Levi.

  “Greetings,” the leader called as they got within earshot.

  Farther back, another guard held a second umbrella over a girl, who picked her way with difficulty across the broken surface on thin-soled sandals. She was fair-haired and impossibly pale, as well; she was perhaps fourteen or so. She wore a meager, turquoise-colored top and shorts, her white midriff exposed. A gem-like stud in her navel glinted in the sun.

  The group stopped at a reasonable distance from Caleb, not getting too close. The two guards continued to keep their umbrellas raised, shielding Levi and the girl from the sun. Caleb noticed what looked like weapons at the belts of all four henchmen, a chunk of plastic and metal that he had glimpsed beneath the raingear worn by the messenger.

  That Levi was both so physically protected and so attentive to his appearance made Caleb assume he was weak. Yet Caleb was also aware that there were other ways of being strong than through sheer physical might.

  One way was to be clever.

  Levi stared at him for a long moment. His sunglasses were made of a mirror-like material that wrapped around the top part of his face, rendering his eyes unreadable; and Caleb was unable to see his full expression. Yet the boy’s mouth opened slightly with what appeared to be surprise, even fascination. Then he regained his composure.

  “I’m Levi,” he said.

  He didn’t bother to extend his hand; he kept his arms by his side, one thumb hooked in his front pocket. Caleb didn’t offer up his own.

  “Caleb,” he said.

  For a second, the other boy’s face seemed familiar, but Caleb dismissed it as a play of shadows.

  “This is Michal,” Levi said, with a casual, almost indifferent nod to the girl. She gave him an eager smile.

  “Good to meet you,” Caleb said.

  “Care for some water?” Levi said. “It’s clean.”

  Caleb smiled. How could he say no? The simple offer established that Caleb was now in Levi’s debt and must be grateful.

  “Sure,” Caleb answered.

  Levi gave a short nod to one of the guards, who tossed a blue metal bottle at their guest. It was actually cold. Caleb acknowledged his thanks with a slight tilt of his head. Then he uncapped it and drank.

  Levi was watching him; behind his glasses, he almost seemed amused. “Keep it,” he said as Caleb offered the bottle back. Not caring that this put him further in his host’s debt, Caleb slid it in his backpack.

  “Whereabouts are you from?” Levi said. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

  Caleb shook his head. “I’ve been traveling a long time,” he said. “I come from beyond the mountain range to the north.”

  There was a moment’s pause. Then: “Don’t know the area,” Levi said blandly. Pleasantries over, he got to the point. “I’ve heard things about you from my boys.”

  “Is that right? What kinds of things?”

  “That you single-handedly fought off the mutants. And that now you’re officially protecting Prin.”

  Caleb shrugged. “It’s not official. And it’s just for a little while.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short,” replied Levi. “It’s impressive. And the town needs help. I could only do so much for them.” At this, he lifted one hand, dismissively. Silver glinted on three of his fingers.

  Caleb shrugged again. By now, he was aware that the other boy seemed to be studying him, as if waiting for some kind of response. He had no idea what it was supposed to be. He had been waiting for the right moment to inquire about the accelerant when his host gestured across the parking lot, in the direction of the work sounds Caleb had heard before.

  “Would you let me show you something?” Levi said.

  It was clearly not meant to be a question, Caleb thought. Levi had the ability to make people not only obey him but also feel as if they worked for him too, even when they didn’t. In a way, he admired such manipulative skill; it made him feel clumsily physical by comparison. He was willing to bet Levi could also read well, something he could barely do. If you could only combine Levi’s brains with his fighting abilities, Caleb thought idly, you’d have a perfect leader.

  “Okay,” he said. “Show me.”

  Levi snapped his fingers at the guard assisting Michal. He stepped forward, abandoning his charge, in order to hold his umbrella over Caleb. Exposed, the frightened girl had no choice but to run to Levi, clinging to his arm for protection from the sun.

  Levi strolled across the parking lot, followed by his entourage. Caleb followed, curious, and grateful for the shade.

  By the time they reached the end of the asphalt, the sounds of people at work were so close, Caleb could make out the grunting of individuals, the shouts of a Supervisor, the rasping of metal on rock. Levi stopped in front of a chain-link fence strung with barbed wire that seemed to encircle the entire parking lot and gestured at Caleb to look down.

  On the other side was a deep trench. It was t
he only one of at least three such pits scooped out of the earth that surrounded the parking lot, one after the other. Each represented a tremendous amount of effort; they were deeper than the height of two men and at least three times longer than that.

  Toiling in each trench were a dozen townspeople of every age. Some used picks to break up the rock and packed earth beneath their feet; others shoveled up what was excavated and tossed it behind them. There, the youngest workers filled plastic buckets with the dirt. At the end of each trench was a primitive pulley, where the children attached the buckets to a dangling rope. They were then pulled to the surface by two other workers and their contents disposed of.

  It was appalling, backbreaking work, all the more so because of the weather. The day’s rain had turned each trench into a vast and treacherous pit of mud and rainwater, and so everyone wore protective gear: rubber hip boots, gloves, plastic face masks. Caleb couldn’t imagine how unbearable it must be to work in such clothing in this heat.

  What’s more, as far as he could tell, it all looked utterly pointless.

  “This is what we call the Excavation,” Levi said. “It’s one of the fair trades we’ve devised here in Prin, for the goods I dispense from the Source. It’s a system that’s been working very well.”

  “For who?” Caleb couldn’t help asking.

  “For everyone,” Levi replied. He sounded sincere.

  “I see.”

  “I know what you’re thinking. That it seems to have no purpose. But that’s where you’re wrong.”

  Levi stepped forward, out of the shade of his own umbrella and into Caleb’s. As he did, he took the umbrella from the guard, who backed off. The two boys were now standing very close to one another; their faces were mere inches apart and Caleb would have stepped back, if it wouldn’t have been so obviously rude.

  Levi addressed him in a voice so soft that even Caleb had trouble making out the words.

  “They’re digging for something,” he said. “Something important. Even precious. No one can know what it is, because they wouldn’t understand. Look at them. They’re animals.” He indicated the guards and Michal with a glance that was dismissive and contemptuous. “When I find what I’m looking for—and I will—I’m going to need help with it.”