Wasteland (Wasteland - Trilogy)

by Kim, Susan

  Caleb nodded, just listening. Levi never raised his voice yet still managed to speak with absolute conviction. He stared into Caleb’s eyes, which Caleb noticed were the same shade of gray as his own. He heard something resonant in the boy’s voice. Had he heard it before? All of this threw him for a second.

  “Do you have any family? A partner?”

  Caleb was jolted back to reality by this question.

  “I did,” he said. “Once.”

  Levi was nodding as if in confirmation. “There’s an opportunity here,” he said at last, “but not just for anyone. It’s for someone who thinks big, someone who can rise to an occasion. Someone who’s like me.”

  After a long pause, Caleb answered, finally understanding what was going on. “You’re offering me a job.”

  Levi remained motionless, not even blinking, his face still close to Caleb’s. “That’s one way of looking at it.”

  “Who said I want one?”

  “You’re already working for them.” He almost spit out the word; it took Caleb a moment to realize he was talking about the workers in the pit, the people of Prin. “Why are you wasting your abilities?”

  “I told you. That’s just for now.”

  “What I’m offering you isn’t a job. It’s a future. Don’t you want one of those?”

  Caleb hesitated before he shook his head, this time with certainty. “That’s not why I’m here.”

  “No? Then why are you?”

  “I want to find who killed my partner and stole my boy. That’s why. And that’s it.”

  Levi’s remarkably pale face flushed. Briefly, he shook his head no, as if he couldn’t accept what he’d just heard. “You’re better than that.”

  “Am I?”

  “Yes. I can tell. You want to build something positive. Revenge will just leave a bad taste.”

  “Maybe it’s not revenge. Maybe it’s justice.”

  Levi shrugged away the difference. “That’s a lonely road,” he said.

  He turned and beckoned to the girl, who had been waiting beneath the other guard’s umbrella. She pointed to herself, startled, and Levi nodded, impatiently. Smiling, glad to be of service, Michal moved forward.

  But before she could reach the shade shared by the two boys, Levi raised a hand to stop her. Then he turned back to Caleb.

  “You wouldn’t have to be lonely here,” he said. “I’d make sure you had friends. Right, Michal?” He raised his voice. “You’d be Caleb’s friend, wouldn’t you?”

  Caleb looked at the girl. Michal was sweating, her pale skin already turning pink in the bright sun. She couldn’t hear everything that Levi had said, so she simply nodded with pathetic eagerness, desperate to please.

  “More than friend,” Levi added. He raised his voice so she couldn’t miss the insinuation in his voice.

  The guards did not miss it either. As they guffawed lasciviously, Michal’s face froze and her eager smile faded.

  Levi turned back to Caleb. “You could start a new family,” he said. “You’d get over your old one in no time.”

  Caleb felt sickened by not only what Levi was offering, but his blithe assumption that it would please him. He stared coldly at the other boy.

  “No thanks,” he said.

  For the first time, Levi seemed off guard; Caleb thought he could see him blinking rapidly behind his sunglasses, as if to regroup. Then Levi waved the girl away, back to the shelter of the guard’s umbrella.

  He now gestured behind them, to the massive building looming in the near distance.

  “You don’t know the things I have in there,” Levi said; “clothing. Furniture. Gold watches.” He seemed less sure of himself now, his voice beseeching. “If you worked for me, I’d make sure you had your fair share of whatever you liked. There’s more in there than you could ever want.”

  Caleb paused. “Actually, there is one thing I want.”

  Levi waited for him to tell him.

  “It’s an accelerant,” Caleb said. “For setting fires. It’s called ‘Able.’ I was told it could be found around here.”

  Levi paused for a second. Then he shrugged, as if to say, what did this have to do with me? He seemed to have lost interest, as if he had just found out that Caleb was a less worthy person than he imagined. “As far as I know, we’ve never stocked it.”

  “You never sold any to mutants?”

  “Of course not. From time to time, we’ve done a little trading, but just the necessities. Deer meat for water. That sort of thing.”

  Caleb nodded. This might explain what Esther saw at the variant camp. “Have you ever been robbed?”

  Levi smiled and then shook his head, as if charmed by Caleb’s naïveté. “That’s ridiculous.”

  But Caleb wouldn’t let it go. “Do you mind if I take a look inside? It’s not that I don’t trust you. I’d just like to see with my own eyes.”

  Levi stared at him for a moment; then he smiled. “Of course,” he said. “It’s the least I could do.”

  He said a few words to his guards; then everyone turned around and headed across the parking lot, back to the Source.

  Inside, it was impossibly cool and dark. It took Caleb’s eyes several moments to get adjusted to the gloom. He was aware that Levi was waiting for him before he took off through the cavernous space.

  “Stay close,” Levi called over his shoulder. “It’s easy to get lost in here and I don’t want to waste your time.”

  Yet Levi walked at a deliberate pace down the endless aisles. Caleb wondered if this was intentional, a way of showing off his wealth. Certainly, he had never seen so many supplies in his life. A single crate, he reckoned, could feed a family for months.

  Levi stopped and turned around.

  “This is where it would be,” Levi said, nodding over his shoulder. “Household supplies. You see?” He pointed at the crates stacked high on the oversize shelves. “This is where we keep all the solvents and flammables. We have turpentine, floor cleaner, bleach, hydrogen peroxide, ammonia. But I’m afraid not what you’re looking for.”

  “Can I?” asked Caleb, and Levi nodded, stepping aside.

  Caleb scanned the shelves. Although he could barely read, he knew how to spell “Able”; still, it was laborious work. And after close searching, he had to admit that Levi was correct; nothing by that name was there.

  Levi walked him to the door. “Well,” he said, “I’m sorry you weren’t able to find what you were looking for. But you know where I am in case you change your mind.”

  “I won’t,” replied Caleb.

  Levi hesitated. “In that case,” he said, “you might consider trying down the road a ways. There’s another town where I heard they trade with the mutants. If you follow the main road to the east, it’s at least a full day’s ride. I suggest getting a start first thing in the morning.”

  Caleb nodded his thanks and, without a handshake or another word, was gone.

  Levi watched from his hidden window until the other was out of sight. Then he immediately headed back downstairs, to the main warehouse floor.

  In one aisle, a hooded guard braced a stepladder on wheels and another stood on its top step, craning to see onto a high shelf.

  “Found it yet?” Levi asked.

  The guard grunted an affirmative and handed something down, a crate with a name stamped on its side. It took two guards to carry it.

  “Hurry up and bring it this way,” said Levi. “I want you to put it in my office.” He was glad his boys never learned to read.

  For although he would never admit it, certainly not to his underlings, Levi was nervous now. Maybe for the first time.

  “Make sure,” he said, “that he’s gone by morning.”

  NINE

  WHEN CALEB EMERGED FROM THE SOURCE, IT WAS LATE AFTERNOON.

  He headed out of the asphalt lot toward the main road. He bicycled through the center of town, passing townspeople on their way home from work. He wasn’t sure of his exact destination, but he sensed it
lay on the north side of town.

  I’m usually in the fields near the tracks, Esther had said.

  As he approached the bleached land that lay beyond a cluster of abandoned office buildings, Caleb dismounted his bicycle and wheeled it next to him. It was pointless to ride; the ground was littered with broken glass and scraps of old metal. Far away, he could just make out the glint of train rails mostly hidden by overgrown and sun-bleached grass.

  By now, the sun was setting, sending blinding shafts of light from the horizon. Caleb shielded his eyes with one hand as he scanned the desolate expanse. Other than the rusted hulk of a truck, a soiled and rain-bloated sofa spilling stuffing, and the charred remains of a bonfire, he saw nothing.

  Then his glance flickered back to a small copse of trees in the distance.

  They had lost most of their leaves and their branches were bare and skeletal in the November twilight. But even in the fading sun, he could make out a patch of color amid the black limbs.

  It was a red hoodie.

  From where she sat, Esther watched as Caleb wheeled his bicycle toward her. Although no one ever came to the fields, she had recognized him the moment she saw him, no bigger than a speck on the horizon. She was surprised by how quickly her heart began beating; it almost hurt and she forced herself to look away. She waited until he was below her before she trusted herself to speak.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Hey.”

  He stretched up a hand, but refusing his help, she jumped down. She smiled up at him, but his expression was serious. He wasted no time in pleasantries.

  “I just came to say good-bye,” he said.

  Whatever Esther was about to say froze on her lips. The sense of shock was like a physical blow, sharp and unexpected.

  “Why?”

  “The thing I’m looking for isn’t here. Levi told me about another town I should try. It’s a day’s ride away, so I have to leave in the morning.”

  “But . . . what about Prin?”

  “They’ll have to do without me.”

  “But they’ll want you to stay.” Esther couldn’t help herself; the words sprang unbidden to her lips. “I want you to.”

  She blushed, and Caleb also averted his gaze. Then he spoke, as if addressing the ground:

  “We still have all night.”

  Together, they headed across the field and back onto the main street. But instead of going into the center of town, Esther turned the other way. They walked along the crumbling sidewalk, following a tall metal fence for several blocks until they reached a gate. A rusted sign hung overhead. Esther couldn’t read most of the words but knew it was a place where people once buried their dead. Although it was nearly dark, they went inside.

  Along the way, Esther and Caleb talked. They followed the broad pathway, which was covered with white gravel and gave off a faint glow. They passed rows of tombstones that had been defaced or toppled by vandals. Crosses, angels, and obelisks lay smashed and cracked on their sides. The path looped its way through the trees and past the dried remains of what seemed a large fountain, edged by wooden benches. They sat on the one that wasn’t broken.

  Esther felt Caleb tense up beside her. “What’s wrong?”

  She heard it as soon as she spoke. There was a rustling sound close by, and the rattle of gravel. An overhead cloud shifted, revealing silhouettes moving in the shadows around them.

  “Dogs,” said Caleb. He raised his voice, and the forms seemed to hesitate. “We’re okay, but we should probably get back.”

  He and Esther stood, stamping their feet as they did. Wild dogs wouldn’t attack two people, especially if they walked slowly, making noise as they went. Still, the hair on Esther’s arms stood up; if fear had a smell, she hoped the animals couldn’t detect it. She and Caleb retraced their steps, following the white pathway until they emerged back on the main street.

  Caleb insisted on walking her home. She gladly let him, and together, they headed through the center of town. When they reached the Starbucks, she turned to face him.

  “Goodnight,” she said. She didn’t want to say good-bye.

  Caleb said nothing. He just reached out and held her hand for a second, then pulled away.

  Esther opened the door and turned to say something else. But he was gone. All that was left was the sound of his bicycle disappearing into the darkness.

  Esther was running down an empty road.

  She was playing Shelter and, for once, she was winning. Jubilant, she could see the safe place, the large cardboard box, in the distance. It sat incongruously in the middle of the highway, straddling the double lines that seemed to go on forever under a hot yellow sky.

  Yet as she got closer, her legs started to move slower and slower. Each step felt as if she was fighting her way through deep sand and she panicked at the thought of losing, of someone else getting there before her.

  Soon she couldn’t move; she attempted to thrash her arms and legs, but they were pinned down by their own weight. The ground began to crumble and collapse beneath her; she was breaking through the earth and would soon be swallowed by it, buried alive.

  Someone grasped her by the hand. She clung to her rescuer and struggled to break free as he lifted her from her grave. The caked dirt fell from her face and she could see who it was.

  Caleb.

  He was saying something to her, something urgent. To not give up. To keep fighting.

  Then, as if from far away, she heard a cry . . .

  Esther jerked awake in the darkness, her heart pounding.

  It took her a moment to realize she was safe at home, in bed. But far away, a girl actually was screaming.

  She rose and crossed into the dark living room. When she peered from behind the curtains, the first gray light of early morning revealed two cloaked forms hurrying down the sidewalk, carrying bundles.

  Esther checked to make sure her sister was still asleep. Then she dressed and stole down the stairs and into the street. Far ahead, she noticed that the two people had been joined by another. She followed them for several blocks, until they turned onto a side street. The three were apparently on their way to the home of Trey and Aima, which was once a store. The opaque glass door still had the words “dry cleaning” painted on it. Now, it gaped open and light spilled onto the sidewalk.

  This was where the screams were coming from.

  Unnoticed, Esther stood in the open doorway, stunned by the noise and activity. Inside, the sobs and shrieks were deafening. Bleary-eyed females, robotic with fatigue, nevertheless moved around the room with purpose, carrying towels, plastic jugs of water, blankets. Although the air was stifling and dense with smoke, one of them tended a blackened fire bowl in the corner of the room, tossing chunks of wood onto the leaping flames.

  The crowd parted for a moment and Esther could see what was happening.

  Aima squatted in the center of the small room, clutching the edge of the laminated counter. To Esther, she was unrecognizable. Her soaking nightdress hiked up, her monstrous belly suspended over her knees, she was white-faced and gasping, her hair plastered across her face. Two females kneeled by her side, supporting her, and again, she screamed.

  Esther, horrified, couldn’t speak.

  Aima threw back her head, causing the cords in her neck to stand out like ropes. She strained powerfully, her teeth clenched and her hands white-knuckled on the edge of the counter. Something dark and wet shot from beneath her and was caught by one of the waiting females. At the same time, there was a loud gushing sound, as an eruption of clear liquid and bright red blood splashed onto the dirty tiled floor. Moments later, there was the thin, reedy cry of a newborn. The others closed around Aima, murmuring as they tended to her.

  But something was wrong.

  One of the girls gasped and another flinched. Something was said in an urgent whisper, followed by a muffled exclamation.

  “No.” Aima’s voice was faint, but it rose above the clamor. “No! It can’t be!”

  Es
ther craned her neck, trying to see what was wrong. But the person closest to her swiveled around, her hands slick with blood and afterbirth. She noticed Esther for the first time, and her eyes blazed with anger.

  “Ain’t nothing to stare at,” she hissed. “It was born dead.”

  Esther recoiled.

  Everyone in the room, even Aima, was suddenly aware of her. Silence fell, and all of the females turned one by one to stare at Esther. Stammering apologies, she stumbled backward out of the room, nearly tripping on the doorsill. When she was outside, the opaque glass door was pointedly pushed shut behind her.

  Esther stood alone on the sidewalk, thinking about what she had just seen. She was deeply rattled.

  It was not just the sight of childbirth that bothered her, although the violence far exceeded anything she could have imagined. Nor was it her rude exclusion from the circle of women, a secret society that had never wanted or welcomed her.

  It was born dead, the girl said.

  Yet Esther had heard it cry out.

  Instead of going home, Esther retreated to a darkened doorway where she could see Trey and Aima’s home. There she waited to see what would happen next. She leaned against the side of a building and felt her eyelids droop; she was about to pass out on her feet. She was ready to give up and head home when the door across the street opened, spilling light onto the sidewalk as a figure exited and walked away.

  Whoever it was carried something bundled in her arms.

  Esther used the tracking skills she had learned from Skar to attempt to follow undetected. Oblivious, her target hurried through the darkened streets, sure of where she was going. Once, she glanced around, as if sensing she was being trailed. Esther melted into the shadow of a streetlamp, and satisfied, the other girl continued.

  Onward they walked, the robed girl in front, Esther half a block behind. They reached the outskirts of town, past the Source looming huge and white in the early morning light, and still the female continued. She turned off the road and cut through the land beyond the gaping pits of the Excavation, picking her way across the precarious open wasteland made up of the debris of collapsed buildings.