The glass was closed, of course. Through it, I saw people limping, bloodied, faces carved in pain as they walked back and forth across the dirt-streaked platform tiles. I wasn’t naïve enough to think I’d be the only person with this idea. Still, I hadn’t realized this many people would be here.
Drawing my light back out, I turned its bottom toward the glass, looked away and hit as hard as I could. The glass shattered, pieces flying onto my clothes and hair, the rest sprinkling down, down the tunnel into the gaping black maw beneath my feet. Then I tucked the light back into my waistband and jumped through to the floor.
No one paid me much attention. The noise echoed off the walls and floor all around me. There was no air-ship here yet; I must have been a little earlier than I’d thought. I hoped. I couldn’t have missed it, not with this lingering crowd.
With a loud hissing sound, like steam escaping a container, I heard metal grind when the air-ship slid into the platform. Gasps cried out around me, along with words of thanks as people stomped and dragged themselves toward the small air-ship doors. I was shoved and jostled by the crowd, pushed back in their fervor to gain entrance.
No. The word hovered right on my lips. Clenching my jaw, I used all my energy and forced my way forward. I needed to reach Hanson.
There was a thump then a loud sizzle and scream, a horrific scent permeating the air that burned my nostrils. The whole crowd stopped for just a moment.
My stomach turned over.
I think someone just got pushed onto the air-ship rail.
Awareness washed over me anew at how dangerous and utterly insane things had turned in the last hour. Every person for himself, willing to sacrifice others for his own chance at survival.
Taking advantage of the momentary shock in the people around me, I pushed my way forward again. There were cries of indignation; I ignored them. I ignored the pulls on my hair, though it made my eyes sting.
I also ignored the elbows and shoves and hands clawing at me, keeping myself tucked as tight as possible to reduce my size and enable me to move faster.
Come what may, I would be on this air-ship. I would reach my brother.
The air-ship doors slid open. The attendant blinked, her eyes widening in horror when she looked around at the crowd.
“What is all of this?” she asked. I realized then that she didn’t know, having been in the air when the Machine had stopped.
Before she could say anything else, the crowd moved forward, shoving and pushing themselves into the air-ship. She was trampled to the ground, falling fast.
I wove my way to her and grabbed her as fast as possible, pulling her inside and to the left out of danger. “The Machine stopped,” I said. “Hurry, you have to close the doors before the air-ship gets too crowded to take off!”
Already there were people packed in, with more trying to fit.
The attendant, her face scratched and hair mussed, smacked a button beside the doors, closing them.
One man ended up wedged in between them. He yelled and wiggled, his body still outside, as he tried to continue pushing his way inside. “I’m stuck!”
The doors wouldn’t budge open, wouldn’t let him through.
With a groan he pulled back.
The doors shut completely, smashing his fingers, though he managed to pull them free. Locking us in. Locking the rest out.
There were smacks and bangs of angry fists on the outside of the air-ship, people yelling at the unfairness. Cursing our names and hoping the air-ship crashed, killing us all for our selfishness.
I didn’t even realize I was crying until the tears slipped down my neck, cooling my skin. I wasn’t sure what I was specifically crying about—the rapid degradation of our society? My fears about Kuno and Marshal and Hanson?
Maybe they were for my mother?
The great engines roared, and we lifted up and out of the opening in the top of the level, leaving the chaos behind.
Chapter 23
“The colonies have been constructed to house all material goods within their walls. Furniture, beds, extra clothing—everything you need stows easily away out of sight, available for you as soon as you beckon it.” ~ The Book of the Machine
The flight was so smooth and eventless it was almost comically shocking. No problems—fate had stepped in to give me a hand on my quest. The cabins were quietly packed, standing room only. Even still, people worked hard to maintain a personal bubble of space, not touching each other whenever possible. Legs shuddered from the effort of standing for so long, arms trembled, eyes were cast downward.
The faces around me were smudged with dirt and tired, listless. Scared. Where were they going? What were they thinking about? Had they even planned far enough ahead to get past the initial shock of needing to escape the colonies?
As we flew, I couldn’t help but think about my mother, her sacrifice to come find me, help me escape. Why? After all the chastising, the cutting off of communication, in the end she’d put aside her own core values and let me go.
And what had happened to Tessa? Was she still sitting in her pod, or had she tried to brave the violence in the tunnels? Would I ever see her again?
Or Hanna?
I scrubbed a hand over my face. Now that the momentary horror was over and I had a chance to collect myself, I was suddenly aware of the aches, scratches, pains in and on my body. My ankle throbbed. There was a slow, dull ache in my head from my attack, beating in time with my heartbeat.
But I was here, alive. The light was tucked safely away against my torso. I was on my way to save my brother.
The air-ship made its slow descent, a curving arc that lowered us with a gentle thud onto the platform near the public nursery. The attendants didn’t say a word. No one seemed to want to break the tentative silence.
The air-ship stopped, and a small ding informed us we’d arrived.
No one moved an inch. I stared in confusion for a moment, watching everyone shift uncomfortably in place. What, were they just going to sit inside the air-ships as they cycled back and forth between our colony and this one? Wouldn’t it eventually need to get some sort of power source renewed—power that was likely going to be scarce or even impossible to find?
I made my way to the doors. Still, no one in the cabins talked or moved. I didn’t hear any sound outside, either; unlike our exit, our entrance wasn’t marked by an angry mob. Biting my lip, I waited until the doors opened.
When they did, I was greeted with a horrific sight, one that caused me to momentarily stagger in my steps out of the air-ship. Bodies littered the floor, stretched and contorted in strange positions. A few people were groaning, curled on their sides, pressing hands to bleeding wounds. Some victims had been stripped naked of their clothing, robbed by desperate escapees and left to die alone in the indignity of being bared before all.
I sucked in a breath, noting how damp and thick the air was. It was getting harder to draw in air.
Time was running out before there would be no air down here at all.
Steeling my spine, I headed right into the thick, moving over bodies in a slow progress toward the nearest lift. It was like nothing I’d ever seen, could ever have imagined. Please let Hanson still be alive. The prayer was on my lips, carved into my heart. I couldn’t even let myself think of the alternative. He had to be there. He was smart, resourceful. A thousand reasons supporting his survival sprang to mind, echoed by a thousand screaming out to me that maybe he wasn’t.
Panic closed my throat.
I finally made it to the lift. I pressed my back against the glass, drawing shallow, regular breaths to calm myself. It wasn’t working so well, but I had to try.
The glass broke in uneven shatters. Once again, I mentally thanked Hanna for giving me the light. A gift I was using more than I’d realized. I kicked more glass in then moved inside the lift, glancing up and down to make sure all was clear.
Only a few flights down. I could do this. I counted twelve rungs at a time; the temperature got
slightly cooler with each level I descended, though it didn’t help the sweat slicking my body. I had to pause a few times, due to the burning shake in my arm muscles. They weren’t used to working so hard. I wasn’t as strong as I’d hoped I’d be for this.
My foot missed a step and I almost lost my grip. It took a good two minutes for my heart rate to slow down after that.
I reached the public nursery level and smashed my way out. Unlike my colony, this tunnel was almost completely silent, the still air punctuated with occasional echoes of sniffles and whimpers. What had happened while I was in the air-ship? Had more people died since then?
My trusty light flicked on easily. I set it to dim and walked down the tunnel. Instantly I could see how things had gotten worse—the hall was littered with various items. Chairs, tables, beds, all sorts of furniture and clothes and other goods were piled in a haphazard fashion. The floor was warped, rippled, with holes punched through as if items had burst out from below. The walls themselves were gaping open, as well.
Even after its death, the Machine still continued to wreak havoc upon us. I guessed all those valves and various sundries holding our belongings in place had finally released their burden.
It was much more difficult to proceed down this tunnel. I had to keep the light pinned between my ear and shoulder, head tilted to the side as I climbed and dug and moved my way through the scattered piles of mess. There were fewer bodies here and fewer living people. They paid me no attention, simply lying listlessly in their pods or along the edges of the hallway. They’d already given up.
Sweat dribbled down my face, soaking my tunic. The temperature might be cooler than it had been on the air-ship platform, but barely. The air itself was stifling, stagnant; breathing was harder with all my physical exertion. Several times I had to stop and rest.
But I was carving a path, one that I could use to bring Hanson back with me. Necessary work that I gladly undertook.
I managed to make it to the tunnel leading to the public nursery. There was pretty much no one around—I didn’t hear any children scurrying or crying. The instructors must have evacuated them. I wouldn’t allow myself to think of the alternative.
But did that mean Hanson was no longer here?
Pressing a shaky, scratched palm to my stomach, I forced myself down the black hall. The door to the public nursery was wide open, no sounds coming out. My light didn’t reveal anything different than what I’d been seeing since getting off the air-ship—just more furniture and such spilling out in small bursts.
I was glad I hadn’t witnessed that happening. It must have been frightening.
The hand holding the light started to tremble uncontrollably as I neared the door. I could barely breathe, much less calm the mad slam of my heart against my ribcage. “Hanson?” I whispered as I emerged into the room.
With the light turned as high as it could go, I swept slowly across the floor. It was chaos in here. Mixed in the rubble I saw some clothing and other personal belongings.
“Who’s there?” a small voice called out from the far side of the room. “Can someone help, please?”
I’d recognize that tenor in my sleep. I gasped in a shock of air. “Hanson?” Nothing could stop the surge of power that flowed into my limbs. I shoved items aside, fevered and needing to see him. “Please don’t let him be hurt,” I whispered so quietly to myself that I barely made a sound.
When I got over and around the mounds, I shone my light across the entire wall. There, tucked in one corner, was my brother—filthy, eyes dilating from the shock of the light after having sat in the dark for who knew how long. There was a small pile of clothing draped across his lap.
“Thank you, thank you,” I said out loud, relief rushing through me. I wasn’t sure who I was thanking, but someone had spared his life. I ran over and dropped to my knees, setting the light off to the side. I wiped a hand across his face then checked his limbs to make sure he wasn’t injured. “Are you okay? Do you—”
“I’m fine. But she was hurt and I couldn’t leave her,” he said, placing a hand on the pile on his lap. “She got hit on the head by a desk coming out of the wall, and she’s been sleeping ever since.”
Now I could see it wasn’t clothes—it was a small person, curled up and facing into his stomach. Her dark brown hair was clumped with stains of blood near the crown. She wasn’t moving.
My heart sank. I made myself touch the curve of her back to see if she was breathing. Nothing. “Hanson, I don’t think…” I couldn’t force myself to say the words.
With as much gentleness as I could manage, I pulled the girl out of his lap and turned her to face me, petrified of what I’d see but knowing I couldn’t just ignore it. My brother had stayed behind with her in spite of the rest of the class evacuating. She must be his friend. So I had to help him get closure.
When the light hit her face I gasped. I recognized her. It was the girl from the air-ship…Rab é, I believe was her name. Poor child. Seeing the serene mask of her face, eyes closed and mouth still, it took everything in me to not grab her in my arms and sob into her hair.
At least she’d had Hanson here with her, at the end.
“I’m going to take care of her, okay?” I told him. “She’s not… She didn’t make it, Hanson. But I’ll take care of her and then we have to go.” The constant tick of time was nudging at the back of my head.
“Thank you,” he told me, his voice a little flatter than usual. It reminded me that he was probably still wearing the medicinal patch on his belly. Something I was actually grateful for at the moment—at least he wasn’t feeling the pain of knowing she’d died. We could deal with that later, together…once we got out of here.
I scanned the piles in the room, found a blanket and pulled it out, laying it on the floor. Then I lifted her onto it. She was small and growing cold and stiff, the heat seeping from her with every second that passed. I wrapped her tightly and tucked her against the wall. Her body was cocooned now in her final resting place.
“Rab é said she met you,” Hanson whispered. “That’s how we started talking.” He stood, smoothing his small hands down the front of his tunic. “She said you were nice to her when she was sad about her father.”
His words cracked open some part deep inside of me. A sob ripped free. I clamped a hand over my mouth, struggling to keep all of that inside. Later. I could cry later. Right now, I had to save my brother and find Marshal.
The plan, Cally. Don’t forget the plan.
Still, I took a second and hugged him. I pressed my cheek to the top of his head. “I’m so glad you’re alive,” I said. “I was worried.”
He wrapped his arms around me. No one was around to tell us we couldn’t connect. We needed this moment. “I couldn’t leave her. And…and I was hoping you’d come find me. That you’d take me away from here like you said you would.”
I nodded. “We have to go. Can you walk okay? Are you hurt?”
He pulled away, giving himself a cursory once-over. “I’m okay, I think. I got hit by something on my back but I can walk.”
I grabbed the light and took his hand. We faced Rab é, each saying a silent goodbye. Then I led him toward the door, through the path I’d dug to reach him.
“Wait.” He tugged his hand out of mine and tugged his tunic up, fingers digging at the small patch on his belly.
“You should leave that on…for now, at least,” I said.
He flinched, gasping as he ripped it off. “I want to feel again. I don’t like being numb.”
I knew what he was saying—he wanted to grieve Rab é’s death properly, to appreciate the joy of knowing I’d come here to save him. It wasn’t my job to deprive him of that, no matter how much I wanted to shield and shelter him right now.
Hanson lowered his shirt then patted his pockets. “I have some dried fruit in here too. I saved it, like we talked about.”
I gave him a big, watery smile. “Good. We’re going to need that.” Because it might be our only st
ores if—
No. T hey’d gotten out. They were going to meet us. One step at a time. I wasn’t going to let myself think otherwise right now.
“Okay, we have to go,” I told him, taking his hand again. “And I need you to stay brave and smart. There are a lot of scary things out there, people who are sick and hurt and dying.” A swell of protectiveness surged in me. I wished I could protect him from this. It killed me that he was going to see his whole world shattered apart in such a violent way.
“Where are we going?” he asked as we made our way back down the hallway, to the main tunnel. His thin voice echoed in the empty black.
I dimmed my light again and forced myself to listen carefully for anyone out there who was still alive and likely more desperate than ever. “We’re going to meet my friends and get out of here.”
One step at a time. The ever-present mantra I kept repeating to myself. First step—head back to the air-ship platform and see if we could catch a flight back to my colony.
Chapter 24
“While our colonies employ cutting-edge machinery to best service our people, there are floors and areas that may not be using Machine-based technology. Fortunately, those areas are limited to transportation of commodities and merchandise within colonies, and you need never worry yourself about it.” ~ The Book of the Machine
“You came down this?” Hanson asked, staring in awe up the dark shaft of the lift. “It’s so dark. Were you scared?”
“A little. But I counted the rungs so I knew where I was going,” I said to him. “I know you’re tired, but we’re going to have to do this together, okay?”
Walking here, I’d been mapping out in my head the best way to get us both up the lift without me worrying about him slipping and falling. I’d decided he should stay a rung or two above me, with my body sheltering him.
I drew in several deep, slow breaths. My arms and legs were tired. But I had Hanson, and I was so close to getting us back to the air-ship. We’d relax on there, at which time I could get much-needed rest. So could he.
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