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A New America Trilogy (Book 1): The Human Wilderness

Page 15

by S. H. Livernois


  But no, that wasn't right. That day three years ago, Jane slapped his hand away and warned him: "If you're some kind of criminal, best you tell me now." The light behind the beautiful face darkened and Jane smiled down at him, cooing in his ear.

  "It'll be okay. Don't worry."

  But it had to be a dream. No one could love a monster.

  A blue sky blazed bright above him. Cottony clouds blotted out the sun, then drifted away to wash the landscape in sunlight.

  He wasn't dreaming anymore — the pain in his body told him with every step that he was awake. Awake and being dragged somewhere he didn't want to go.

  Jane tugged his heavy body over an empty road. He'd been on this road before, a long time ago. The sky looked the same as it did years ago, but the air was colder then and the trees clothed in red and yellow and orange.

  "It's only a couple miles, Eli," Jane said. Worry clouded her voice and she huffed from the effort of dragging him. "You can make it."

  "Don't make me."

  She tugged on his arms. "I told you I'd drag you here."

  This went on for what felt like hours — Eli begging to lie down and Jane telling him to shut up. His head throbbed and his vision blurred. Minutes later, the world would focus again and the landscape around him had changed.

  He was walking down a road nearly buried by forest. It melted into fallow fields. A big barn and half-collapsed silo. Then a vacant Walmart. Eli closed his eyes and walked blindly. He opened them on a sign: Elsberry.

  "No," he wheezed. He tried to root his feet to the ground but he only stumbled. Jane's hand grasped at his armpits and she held him up with a grunt.

  "Almost there."

  But he wanted to stay out in the wilderness with her, alone, where she would keep believing he was a good man who did the right thing. Where she could love him and he could love her and be someone else.

  Here, she'd find out what he'd done.

  Old ghosts passed by: the line of fast-food joints, the dental office, the bank, the leafy park, rows of narrow houses — yellow, green, blue, the paint now bleached by the sun; rusted cars. The bones were gone. Traffic lights passed overhead and the buildings became old, crowded, crumbling. The courthouse appeared, just as he remembered. A pearly gray, surrounded by a wall dug into the street. He squinted at the rooftop — small black figures patrolled there. They were waiting for him, guns drawn. To point him out, cast their sentence, dole out their punishment.

  It was over. Lily was lost. Jane would run away when she learned the truth.

  "We're here," she said in his ear. "You'll be okay now."

  The street vanished. He ran through a twisting hallway and Parasite howls bounced off the walls and the linoleum floor. Tiny cells passed by, left and right, stretching forever. But the howls weren't from Parasites anymore. It was women, screaming. Their voices tore down the hallway — three of them, one by one. He never forgot their names.

  And then came the man's voice, screeching as if his body had been torn open and his insides pulled out at his feet.

  It went on forever.

  And then Eli crashed to the ground.

  Chapter 18

  Eli woke to silence. No birds chirped, no Parasites howled, only the wind whistled. He tried to imagine the world outside his window, and whether the morning dawned cloudy or with a shining sun. Next he tried to recite his to-do list for the day. Nothing came to mind.

  The fog cleared from his brain. The whistling wind was actually a shrill, keening chorus of animal voices. He'd know the sound anywhere: Parasites. The bed beneath him was hard and scratchy, and the air smelled and felt different. Sounds murmured beneath the howling: voices, two of them, echoing as if from a dream. One he recognized, and one he didn't.

  "How long have you guys been out there?" The voice sounded young and far away.

  "Few days," Jane answered.

  "Have you seen many people?"

  "A handful, maybe."

  "Did you see a girl? My age. Really short hair. Big, dark eyes."

  "What's her name?"

  "Rooney. She's my best friend."

  Another girl? Where was he? Eli opened his eyes on a wash of gray. The gray turned into a wall of painted cinder blocks, flickering with orange light. Words, letters, and pictures had been carved and drawn across them. Initials, names, stick figures, curse words. Eli followed the graffiti across the wall to a row of bars.

  The bars of a jail cell.

  Panic trickled down his throat. He flailed his arms and legs, expecting them to be tied down. "Jane!" His voice filled the small space. "Jane!'

  He swept his legs over the bed and to the floor. A shape raced into the room, a glowing lamp in hand.

  "Eli, it's okay." Jane's weight fell in beside him. "Shh."

  With her warm, familiar hands, she stroked his arms, the back of his neck, his scalp. His mind spun around in circles and tried to anchor itself to something familiar. He found Jane's face and focused on it like it was the only thing on earth.

  "Where am I?"

  "We're at the courthouse."

  The cold trickle of panic filled his stomach. A tiny room took shape, and outside, a cramped, dark hallway lined with high, narrow windows.

  "Am I in a jail cell?" he said.

  Jane dropped her voice. "It's where visitors stay."

  He remembered empty streets. A gray stone building, a steel wall. Men on the roof. With a sinking feeling, he remembered the map and its circled places, and that they were supposed to go west.

  Lily. She was still with her kidnappers.

  Jane patted his back and pulled him up by the shoulders. She yanked up his shirt, pulled away a bandage, and pressed his side. It ached like a healing bruise.

  "These people saved your life," Jane said. "Gave you one precious dose of antibiotics. Imagine that."

  "How far are we from the next target?"

  "A hundred twenty miles, I think."

  "How long have we been here?"

  "Two days."

  Eli nodded. "Simon was in Hope three days. We can still catch up." He sprung to his feet, but his legs buckled and the small room swayed. He fell back to the cot and shivered from muscle to bone.

  "Hold your horses," Jane said. "You haven't eaten or drunk in forty-eight hours."

  "But Lily …" He took a deep breath and anchored himself by gripping the bedsheets.

  She squeezed his shoulder and a shadow passed over her face. "She could be anywhere by now, Eli…"

  Eli dropped his head in his hands and pressed his fingers into his eyes. Lily's face swam behind them, shrinking deeper into the blackness. Jane pulled one of his hands away and clasped his fingers around a cold canteen. She thrust it to his lips and he drank it down in one gulp. She took it back and handed him a heel of bread with an expression that demanded he eat. Then she looked over her shoulder, lowered her voice.

  "I don't like it here," she whispered as Eli chewed and swallowed ravenously. "These people are nice, but they're not that nice. They watch me like a hawk."

  "What time is it?" he said.

  "Well after midnight."

  Someone in this place would remember him as the man who stood outside their walls one autumn day and shot at their people. He wanted to hide in the cell but imagined Lily hiding in a desolate cabin, surrounded by her kidnappers.

  "We take off at first light. Head north, to wherever 'home' is on that map." He took another swig from the canteen. "You think I'm up for that, doc?"

  "Not so fast." Jane peeked over her shoulder at the black hallway beyond the cell. "This place was crossed off on that map, remember? The kidnappers have been here. And there's someone here who may know something about it."

  Jane eased off the cot and into the hallway. "Come on in, Robin."

  Light footsteps padded across the floor. Eli was bare-chested, his pants bloodstained and hair mussed, so he did his best to look presentable: smoothed his hair, slipped on a clean shirt. A small figure appeared in the doorway of the
cell.

  "Hi," the girl said softly.

  "This is Robin," Jane announced. "That's Eli."

  The girl was only slightly older than Lily. She wore a thin dress and a sweater and stood barely five feet tall. A pale little face peeked from among a burst of long, thick red hair, took in Eli and the bloodstains.

  "Are you hurt?" she asked.

  "Nah. Just a scratch." Eli palmed his side and smirked. "I rubbed some dirt on it, never felt better."

  Robin giggled.

  "She's looking for her friend, Rooney." Jane crossed her arms and looked at Robin. "What's she doing outside the walls?"

  Robin's deep-set, dark eyes flitted around the room, behind her in the hallway. She fidgeted, rubbing the tips of each finger with a thumb.

  "It's okay," Eli said. "We're looking for someone, too."

  The girl took a deep breath and when she finally spoke, did so quickly and quietly.

  "She left with someone a couple months ago, a guy." She rolled her eyes. "Rooney thought he was cute."

  "Who?" Jane said, a little too loudly. Her sharp voice bounced off the cinder blocks and out the door. "Sorry. Who was he?"

  Robin came closer. "Someone who used to live here, a long time ago. I almost didn't recognize him. He didn't have a beard the last time I saw him."

  Jane let out a hissing breath. Eli squatted in front of Robin to meet her eye to eye.

  "What was his name?" he said.

  "Simon."

  "Jesus," Jane muttered from the cell door. She ran a hand through her hair and down her face.

  "He have any friends, family here?" Eli said.

  Robin nodded. "He's from Elsberry. Susan, she took care of him for a while. She's nice." Her light eyebrows knotted.

  "Why did Rooney leave with him?" Jane asked.

  The girl sucked in a shrill, panicked breath. "I can't." She backed up to the door and repeated the words. "I'm not supposed to."

  "You can't what?" Jane said, her voice rising again.

  "I'll get in trouble." Robin spun on her heels and headed for the door, but Eli was quicker. He rushed past her and glanced out the doorway himself, finding a dank stairwell stretching into silence below.

  "No one's here, Robin." He smiled. "I'll keep watch."

  She hugged herself and wiped her eyes, then spoke to the floor.

  "Someone hurt her. She told Timothy, our leader," she spat the word with sarcasm. "But he did nothing and no one believed her."

  A hardness overtook Jane's face and she hugged herself. "Why didn't they believe her?"

  "She was new and they thought she was a troublemaker." Robin's mouth flickered in a smile, then it vanished. "The man who hurt her, he's important."

  "Important," Jane scoffed.

  "She just wanted to get out of here. They called her a liar. But she wasn't lying."

  "I'm sure she wasn't." Jane took a deep breath, shook her head, and fled the cell and went down the hall.

  Robin flicked her dark eyes at Eli. "Who are you looking for?"

  "A girl about your age," Eli said in a gruff voice. "Lily."

  "Did she leave with Simon, too?"

  Eli nodded. He didn't want to tell the girl that Simon stabbed a boy to death and kidnapped Lily and probably her friend, too.

  "Can you do me a favor?" she asked.

  "Sure, sure."

  Something clanged below them on the stairs and Robin jumped. She bit her lip, glanced behind her, and spoke breathlessly.

  "If you find Rooney, tell her I'll wait for her every night at midnight in the south tower." She smiled. "And we'll get out of here together."

  Robin turned on her heel and, red hair swishing behind her, disappeared into the hallway. Her footsteps padded down the stairs and into the night.

  Eli leaned against the cinder blocks behind his cot. Beyond his cell was only darkness, broken only by a rectangle of stars twinkling behind the window.

  Lily. Rooney. Dana, Lynn, Megan, Bonnie. Every single one of them had vanished into the wilderness.

  Eli brought a finger to his mouth and chewed, spitting the nails into the air, thinking. Knowing they'd have to stay, that he'd have to risk someone remembering his face. He dreaded the morning like a man sentenced to hang at dawn.

  He became aware of a wheezing, sucking sound. He rose from the cot and crept down the hallway to Jane's cell. A soft orange light glowed inside, casting her flickering shadow on the wall. Another sob; the sound cut him deep.

  He backed away and retraced his steps noisily, cleared his throat to warn her, give her time to compose herself. When he looked into the cell, Jane was quiet and sitting on her cot, her cheeks wiped of tears.

  "We can't leave in the morning." Her voice was thick, but firm.

  "I know. We should talk to this Susan person."

  If I get the chance...

  Jane nodded absently. "Another girl..."

  "We'll find them. Got the map still. We know where they're going."

  Jane peeked up at him, her eyes suddenly sharp with anger. "Promise me, Eli, that you'll never stop looking. That you'll protect us."

  A sob choked in her throat and she swallowed it, muscles straining in her neck. Eli nodded and sat down next to her, wrapped his arm around her strong shoulders.

  "I promise," he said. But the word of a man who'd already done so much harm meant nothing.

  Jane nodded and rubbed the tears away before they fell. "We should go to bed. Will you …" She paused, studied her hands. Then, shyly, "Sleep next to me?"

  Despite himself, Eli smiled. He could hold her all night — the perfect way to spend their last hours together. "Sure, sure."

  He lay down, wedging his body against the wall. Reached out his arm and patted the space beside him with the other hand. Without looking at him, Jane eased in into the crook of his arm and nudged her small body in next to his. He wrapped his other arm around her, found a hand, clasped onto it.

  Tension melted from his muscles. He rested his nose close to her hair and breathed her in, memorizing the smell and feel of her. He forgot she'd hate him in the morning, when she learned what he'd done here. The wick of the oil lamp burned lower and the light dimmed. Her body began to seize and twitch. A sob wrenched from her throat before she could stop it.

  He squeezed her hand.

  "Do you want to tell me?" But Eli already knew — he'd seen what men were capable of.

  Jane let out a long, shaky breath.

  "I know how she felt. To have no one believe you." Her voice broke. "To live next to the man who ..." She pushed deeper into him, as if she wanted to crawl inside his body.

  Something deep inside him ripped in two. He held her tighter, willing her bad memories and the hurt to disappear. But he couldn't do that, and he couldn't erase the past. All he could do was promise.

  "It's okay," he murmured again and again until her sobs quieted and she drifted off to sleep. He stroked a curl of her sandy hair, wishing he could promise that he wouldn't hurt her.

  Chapter 19

  At dawn Eli sat on his cot, holding up his shirt to expose his side. Jane prodded his wound with frigid fingers and replaced the bandage.

  "Looks good." She examined his face and eyes. Eli lowered his shirt, stood, and tucked it into his pants. "And your color is back. You'll be running from Parasites in no time."

  Jane bolted from the cot and leaned against the wall of her cell, hands on her hips and one eyebrow cocked. "So what's the plan?"

  Their little cave was now bright with morning sunlight. A new day had arrived and Eli had to leave this cell and face the hangman. He felt the minutes tick by and stared up at Jane, enjoying the way she looked at him.

  "Find Susan. Talk to her. Then get out of here."

  Jane nodded. "Straightforward. I like it."

  Footsteps padded up the stairs and Jane rolled her eyes at the sound. "This old bitty has been up twice asking if you're awake," she whispered. "God forbid we have a second alone."

  A soft female voice r
ang good morning.

  "Is your friend up yet?"

  Jane answered in a tone Eli didn't recognize: an octave higher, breathy, and bright. "He's finally awake and feeling better, thank you."

  "Wonderful." The footsteps shuffled forward.

  "But he's still resting."

  A head peered into the cell. Eli dropped his face and fidgeted with his chewed nails.

  "Hi there. I'm Betty. Nice to see you're awake."

  Eli raised his head slightly and lifted a hand in greeting.

  "Timothy wants to meet you both," the woman said. "He's the leader of our little haven."

  "Just give us minute."

  "I'll wait for you at the bottom of the stairs." Betty disappeared.

  "Fucking busybody," Jane muttered. "Well, you heard the woman. Let's go meet Timothy."

  They left the cells, entered a dank stairwell that stank of rust and damp. Eli smoothed his hair and straightened his shirt on the way down. He counted three flights, and at the bottom they met an open door. Betty stood in front of it; a hallway stretched behind her, its scuffed linoleum floors shining dully under dim gray light.

  "Welcome to Elsberry," she announced. Betty was thin and tanned, with gray hair and a fleshy face. If not for the shrewd, beady eyes, she would've looked like a kindergarten teacher. "Follow me."

  "This place was the county courthouse and Elsberry the county seat." Betty pointed out the day care, library, and apartments, all of them former offices. Mismatched rugs covered the floors, hand-painted signs decorated doors, dead florescent lights lined the ceiling, and the air reeked of sour sweat and smoked meat. Eyes peered around corners from behind windows.

  Eli wondered who of their friends he'd killed and waited for one of them to screech and point and brand him a murderer. He kept his head down.

  Betty steered them to the left, past a defunct elevator covered in children's drawings and down another hallway. Betty pointed out the infirmary and art room and came to a stop.

 

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