Wasteland (Wasteland - Trilogy)

by Kim, Susan

  As always, he spoke softly, so the others were forced to lean in. “As you know, I been in discussion with Levi these past few days,” he began.

  The room murmured its approval. After the decisive way Levi had vanquished the mutants, even those who once distrusted him were now his supporters. Rafe was happy to see that some of the biggest doubters—he ignored the inconvenient fact that he himself had been one of them—now banged on the laminated tabletops as enthusiastically as the others and stamped the ground with their sneakered feet.

  “He’s done made a very generous offer to us,” he continued, “one that I helped him think up.” It dawned on him that no one would know if he stretched the truth. “But I don’t know how long he’s willing to keep it on the table.”

  He paused, and as he knew they would, everyone stopped fidgeting and hung on his words.

  “He’s willing to buy Prin from us,” he said at last, his voice unintentionally cracking with excitement. He cleared his throat and tried again. “He wants to take the whole mess right off our hands. What do you all think of that?”

  There was a moment of silence as everyone in the room digested his words. Then at once, they all began talking.

  “What do you mean, buy Prin?” called out a girl holding a younger child in her lap. “If he buys it, where we gonna live?”

  “We need to find a new place, obviously,” said Rafe. This was an easy question, one of the four or five he had anticipated. “Someplace bigger, better. Because let’s face it—we done picked this whole area clean long ago. There ain’t nothing left for us here, especially after the mutants smashed the place up.”

  “But they ain’t attacked in a while,” said one boy. “Maybe they done coming after us.” He sounded hopeful.

  Again, this was something Rafe had anticipated.

  “They only stopped on account Levi drove them off,” Rafe said. “How many times do you think he’s willing to do that?”

  “Heck, if he wants it, I say he can have it,” a boy shouted, and several people laughed.

  A girl raised her voice. “What’s he gonna give us in return?”

  “He’s going to pay us in water and food supplies,” said Rafe. Again, it was an easy question; the meeting was going exactly as he had hoped. “I did some hard bargaining and here’s what we come up with. He’s willing to give each household half a crate of water and six months’ worth of flour, mixed grain, beans, and salt. I say that’s more than fair . . . supplies like that should last all of you a long, long time.”

  Again, people started talking all at once, trying to shout each other down. Rafe was glad to see that most in the room were on his side: nodding their heads, arguing with their neighbors.

  However, there were more than a few who looked like they had reservations about the idea. Some were shaking their heads in disagreement. Several were deep in thought, frowning and thinking hard. They worried him the most.

  One of them was an older girl, who sat huddled on top of a table, her back against a window. She spoke up.

  “If there’s nothing left here in Prin, why does Levi want it so bad?”

  Rafe hadn’t thought of this. And, in truth, he didn’t really know.

  He ignored her and tried to steer the discussion back to more comfortable ground, questions he knew the answer to and wished more people were asking.

  “This is the kind of opportunity we been waiting for,” Rafe said, more loudly than he needed to. He could feel a trickle of sweat start to work its way down the back of his neck. “Now we can head out and find ourselves a new place, a place to build on. In fact, we can start sending scouts as soon as we vote tonight. We—”

  “You didn’t answer her question,” someone called.

  Before Rafe could pretend he didn’t hear and continue talking over this interruption somehow, another voice called, “Answer her question!”

  Rafe licked his lips, trying to think of a way to get control again. People were starting to murmur, and doubt and skepticism rippled across the faces in front of him.

  Trying to stave off disaster, he screamed, “I told you, this deal ain’t going to stay on the table unless we act fast! He’s being more than generous . . . he don’t have to offer us nothing! We should be grateful he even wants to do business with us in the first place!”

  But by now, others were frowning and shaking their heads, looking at the girl who spoke.

  “She’s right,” a boy said.

  The others sitting at his table were nodding in agreement.

  “Prin ain’t much, but it’s our home,” added another girl. “Got to have a better reason to leave it than a few months’ worth of food.”

  Rafe was stunned that the mood had so quickly shifted and he was at a loss as to how to regain the upper hand.

  “I say, let’s vote on it!” someone yelled, and there was general agreement.

  Rafe swallowed hard, his mind reeling. Although he had called the meeting with a quick resolution in mind, that was now the last thing he wanted. If he allowed a vote, it was obvious which way it would go.

  “Now, this was just an informational meeting,” he said. “Just to get the facts out. We’ll be scheduling a vote at a later time.”

  He adjourned the meeting soon afterward. He stood by the door, stopping people to cajole or joke with them, trying to recapture some of the enthusiasm he had seen just minutes before. But even he was forced to admit it was a lost cause.

  Desperately, all he could think was: What would Levi say?

  A lone figure neared the Excavation.

  Disguised by her robes, Esther averted her face from those who passed.

  She had spent difficult days and nights, trying not to be noticed in the streets she knew so well, sleeping in abandoned storefronts and surviving on whatever supplies she could steal. Throughout, she was haunted by what she had seen happen to Caleb. Why had she stood by as he was insulted and spat upon? For the thousandth time, she rebuked herself for not rushing forward when he was being led away.

  She had not seen Caleb since.

  Esther had to find him; but she could not risk being found within the town’s limits. She knew that to ask for help was both foolhardy and dangerous. She would not have come to this Excavation site if she had had another choice.

  Even though it was crowded with abandoned cars and trucks, the asphalt area surrounding the Source was too exposed; it would be suicide to approach that way. Instead, Esther took the indirect route, circling far around and through the back fields. Creeping through the tall grass in order not to make any rippling movement, she was able to get close to the trench. Soon, she could make out the rhythmic clank of shovels hitting dirt and rock and the voices of workers calling to one another.

  Esther lay motionless in the grass, only a few feet from the pit, with her eyes shut so she could hear better. As the team members yelled to one another, she found she could identify who each person was and she started to keep a silent tally of who was there.

  “Break time,” called a voice. “Lunch.”

  With her belly pressed low to the ground, Esther listened to the clatter of tools being tossed aside as one by one, the workers pulled themselves up over the ledge. She pictured how they looked, with their robes caked with dirt and clay. Most of them were probably retrieving their nylon backpacks, stashed in the backseat of a car or truck to keep them safe from wild animals. Now she imagined them pulling out bottles of water and plastic containers of porridge and beans, yanking down their masks and chatting with each other as they headed off to the relative shade of a small copse of trees nearby.

  The last person to leave the pit took a moment to sit on the edge. Esther heard him knock the soles of his sneakers together to dislodge the red clay. Having tracked who had left, she was fairly certain who it was. More important, she was desperate enough to take the chance.

  “Eli,” she whispered.

  The boy looked up, and Esther waved him over. When he saw her, his face broke into an unbelievin
g smile beneath his mask.

  “Esther?” he said.

  With a quick glance to see if anyone else had noticed, Eli exited the trench. Esther had already retreated into the tall grass. He stooped low and made his way toward her through the sun-bleached weeds that grew as tall as his waist. When he reached her, she was kneeling, almost completely hidden by the towering blades. Eli took off his gloves and pulled down his mask so he could speak.

  “What are you doing here?” Although he seemed overjoyed to see her, his face was creased with worry. “If the others catch sight of you—”

  “I know.” She took a deep breath, then plunged ahead. “I need to talk with you. It’s real important.”

  A flush broke over Eli’s face and he stared at the ground, smiling hard.

  “I was hoping you’d make up your mind soon,” he said, his voice husky. Then he cleared his throat and looked up at her. “I can talk to the others. That Rafe, he’s just full of air. If I go see him first, he’s bound to see reason.”

  Esther stared at him, confused.

  “What?” she said.

  As usual, Eli wasn’t listening. He reached for her and, to Esther’s shock, took her hand firmly in both of his.

  “We’ll get that sentence thrown out,” he said. “We’ll see this through together. I promise you that.”

  Esther jerked her hand away before she realized what she was doing; too late, she saw the look of bewildered hurt flash across his face. Inwardly, she cursed herself yet again for her clumsiness, her rashness.

  “I’m . . . I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I can’t be your partner. But that’s not why I’m here. I need your help.”

  Eli looked as if someone had hit him, hard, when he wasn’t expecting it. He stared into the distance, shaking his head. Then he laughed, mirthlessly.

  “Help?” he said. “You tell me you won’t be my partner, but you still say you want my help?”

  Esther swallowed hard. “I—I’m sorry,” she stammered again. She had blundered every step of the way, she realized now.

  Yet she still needed him, and any help he could provide.

  “I’m sorry to have to ask you. But I don’t know who else to go to. You’re pretty much the only person in Prin who’s ever been nice to me.”

  Eli snorted. “And look what good that’s done me.”

  He was still gazing off, blinking hard, his eyes bright. Yet without looking at her, he seemed to be softening.

  “What is it you need me to do?”

  Esther was overwhelmed with relief.

  “It’s Levi,” she said. “He’s been using the variants somehow . . . getting them to attack the town so he looks like a hero.”

  Eli nodded, pursing his lips; he appeared to be thinking. “He wants to buy Prin,” he said. “That’s what Rafe says, anyhow.”

  “We can’t let him,” said Esther.

  “Well, I don’t know that it’s such a bad thing, Levi buying us out,” he said. “Prin ain’t got much left for the rest of us, anyhow. If he wants it so bad, why shouldn’t he have it?”

  “It’s not just about Prin,” she said. “It’s Caleb I’m worried about.”

  At the mention of his name, Eli’s face froze.

  “Caleb?” he repeated.

  Esther sensed trouble, but she plunged ahead regardless. “I need you to find him for me. I know he’s been told to get out of Prin. But Levi’s got his baby and I know he won’t leave until he gets him back. I’d look for him myself, but I can’t.”

  But the boy cut her off and Esther was stunned by the fury in the otherwise mild brown eyes.

  “Your friend,” he said, spitting the words, “got what he deserved. He ain’t nothing but a coward. If only I’d have known what kind of trash you liked, maybe I would have stayed clear of you from the beginning.”

  Esther put her hand on his shoulder; this time, he was the one to jerk away. “You played me for a fool for the last time.”

  He started walking away, the grass swishing in his wake.

  “Eli!”

  But he did not turn around and soon was gone.

  Esther sighed and sank back on her heels. She knew there was only one person now she could possibly approach, the only one (save for Joseph, whom she loved but knew was helpless in an emergency) who would even speak to her.

  And it was the last person she ever wanted to ask for anything.

  The sun was dipping low in the western sky by the time Esther stood outside the ruined mansion.

  Unable to ask where the Gleaning crews were working that day, she had been forced to figure it out herself. Without a bicycle, she had canvassed much of the town on foot, searching up one long street and then the next for the familiar, purple-framed bicycle parked outside.

  It was agonizing and time-consuming work, all the more so because she had to stay alert to the sound of work teams riding past. Yet at last, she had found it, on a street of broad lawns and large houses that was once considered exclusive. It lay in a tangle of other bicycles that leaned against an enormous uprooted tree in a large yard overgrown with weeds.

  Behind the bicycles curved a long circular driveway that seemed to have once been picked up and wrenched by massive hands. The house itself resembled the face of an old giant, broken and toothless and blind. All of the windows were shattered or missing, and vines grew freely over the gaping chasm where the roof once stood.

  It was almost dark; soon, the Gleaning crew would emerge, get on their vehicles, and head home with their haul. Esther squatted behind a toppled tree, rested her aching legs, and listened.

  She did not have to wait long.

  She heard voices, and then a person in filthy robes appeared at the door. It was a girl, talking to someone behind her. Four others stepped out onto the sagging and dilapidated porch, carrying a few filled plastic bags. It was an insignificant haul for such a large house. Esther assumed this was not the first time the mansion had been Gleaned.

  One of the five called to someone still inside. “You go ahead,” Esther heard from the depths of the house. The four clipped their robes close to their legs and mounted their bicycles. Then, carrying their meager haul, they pedaled off into the twilight.

  Moments later, Esther stood in the doorway.

  She could not hear anything stirring; and she ventured in, picking her way along a makeshift path that wound its way through piles of sodden trash, dead leaves, and the broken remains of furniture. By the dim light, she could see she was standing in the ruins of what was once the entryway, with rooms leading off on the left and a hallway in front. Next to it loomed what was left of the stairway, disappearing into the murky darkness.

  “Hello?” she called.

  The cavernous living room was down two steps; by the far wall, the ceiling had partially collapsed, crushing two of the eight windows with heavy wooden beams. As Esther edged down the steps, something skittered through the trash and disappeared into the pile of bricks that was once the chimney.

  She gave an involuntary start when she saw someone across the room. Whoever it was huddled against a destroyed sofa, its head bowed nearly to its knees.

  “Sarah?” Esther called out.

  There was no response. Then the masked figure raised its head.

  “Esther?” said Sarah.

  For an unguarded moment, the joy and disbelief were naked in the older girl’s voice. Then she caught herself and, once more, assumed her usual fretful, nagging tone. “What are you doing here?”

  “I need to talk to you,” replied Esther.

  She had been steeling herself for this conversation, one she had a premonition would go badly, the way they always did. “It’s important. What are you doing?”

  Sarah made a dismissive gesture and stood, leaning against the wall. “I was just resting,” she said. “Did the others see you? They were only here a moment ago. Oh, Esther, how could you risk coming back like this? Why don’t you ever think?”

  Already, Sarah was talking to Esther as if sh
e were a little girl. And even though Esther struggled to stay calm and focus on what was important, she instead found herself clenching her fists so hard, her nails dug into her palms.

  “I need you to help me,” she said in a low voice.

  “Help you?” said Sarah. She laughed, but the sound of it was mocking. “I tried to do that. Didn’t I? I warned you again and again, and you refused to listen to me. So how can I help you now that you’ve been Shunned? It’s too late, Esther. It’s much too—”

  Esther cut her off. “I need you to find Caleb for me.”

  At this, Sarah fell silent for several moments.

  “I see,” she said. “And was this why you came back to Prin?”

  “Yes,” said Esther. “I—”

  “No, no,” interrupted Sarah. “I want to make sure we both understand this. This was why you’re risking not only your life . . . but my life, too. Because that’s what you’re doing here, dragging me into this. You’re risking both of our lives to save that boy. That stranger.” Her accusation stung Esther, who stood in silence, taking it. “When did he arrange all this with you? Before you left? Did he tell you he loved you, make promises to you?”

  “No,” muttered Esther. Her face was hot with anger and embarrassment. “It’s not like that. He—”

  “You know what I think is sad?” said Sarah, almost to herself. “That boys say anything they want just to get something. And girls always believe them.” Her voice caught for an instant, but Esther could not tell if she was about to laugh or cry. “I can’t say I blame you. He rides into town and impresses everybody, and we all fall for it. Then he deserts us when we need him the most. And now you’re willing to risk everything just to save him.”

  Esther couldn’t stand it anymore.

  “Well, you know what I think is sad?” she shouted. As much as she hated them, tears of anger stung her eyes and she tried in vain to wipe them away. “That for the first time in my life, I need help. And the only person I can ask is you.”

  Esther turned to go. But as she crossed the threshold, some impulse made her turn around and look back.